Why the primal fear of sight and smell of human dead
By Brother Jonah
NOT MY TRIBE - 3/06/2017 8:36AM MDT
This I sniped from several psychology and related disciplines articles years ago. And yes I’m going to hit it up with a bit of politics. The first time you smell a deceased human, you’ll know, instinctively know. It’s not like dead other mammals. Well, it is to a point. or if you see a corpse including skeletal remains. In the olden time, when humanity was more thinly dispersed, if you encountered a human body, your first instinct was to look around. Sharpens all your senses. Why? Because somebody or something killed this member of your own species. Something or somebody which or who might still be hanging around, and maybe it’s hungry, you don’t know, just that this is a hostile action. And humans are definitely a herd or pack animal. So much that we have a primal language all of our babies start experimentation when they’re like 9 months old. mama, papa pupu pipi wawa. The phenomenon is called onomotopaeia and it means “something that sounds exactly like what it describes”. I had a French teacher in High School who said she thought the word “murmuring” was about the most elegant word in any language. Anyway, if the deceased was not of your family band, that’s double. Strangers are rare in nomadic culture. By the time you can walk you’ve probably met everybody in a two hundred mile diameter. Probably a case of many cousins too… and who travels alone in tribal lands where he’s a stranger? Where are the rest of his band? These questions hit you all at one whiff. So how does Jonah make this political? All the times the U.S. Military have announced “final victory”.
They never had an absolute victory so maybe they can explain (if they move to another state, instead of the State of Denial) that ludicrous thought. Especially in our times. The VietNam non-war was called the Prime Time War because you would see people getting blown to heaven or hell on the TV news.
So, who else was watching? Humans are more hardwired to not surrender, especially to a carnivore. If they’ve seen their family member(s) slaughtered by a lion they’re not bloody likely to go up to that lion and sue for peace. Standing Rock, for instance.
Standing Rock was where Sitting Bull was murdered by Reservation Police on the orders of their White Masters. The people there have the oral tradition, like in my family discussing my grandathers.
It’s not far from Wounded Knee. It’s not far from the Greasy Grass, aka the Little Bighorn.
Now, the Army is trying to slow the imagines of The People being beaten up. Violence on that level, your instinct is to see that as Being Killed. And that does happen enough to keep the instincts fresh.
The people on both sides might be unknown to you. But the Lakota you’ll see clearly as Human. They didn’t disguise their human faces and forms with helmets, darkened visors on those helmets, body armor, uniforms, all of their weapons, all of it ugly and painted black. So, pigs, what are you going to do with the next resistance move? Beat everybody down, maybe blow off a few more limbs like you punks did at Standing Rock? Maybe kill somebody, would that make you feel safe and powerful?
Remember that thought when you start cheering and saying “we won!” and “Mission Accomplished”.
Remember too that you’ve spent 15 years trying to conquer two sparsely populated countries whose total number of native inhabitants is about a tenth of the U.S. population. Remember that the Americans on whom your Masters declared war, the immigrants, Natives, Blacks, Anybody who doesn’t enthusiastically join into your massive terrorist attack… we outnumber you. This past weekend the Pigs assaulted “rioters” meaning people had signs and loudspeakers so the coward-ass Militarized PIGS could hear them tell the PIGS and especially Trump that he and they don’t have a right or a duty to Command Us to “cooperate” with your vicious and evil deeds. He’s not My President and I don’t have any duty of obedience to him or to his Fellow Fascist Corporate comrades. If you don’t like it, y’all can just line up and take turns helping yourself to a Texas Size All-You-Can-Eat buffet of Kiss My Liberal Ass.