The road and the packed car. The sky is low, grey, prengant and due. Where’s the heatwave when you need it. Plans are odd things, atttepts to structure the future. Cats can’t make plans.
It was filthy, sweaty hot yesterday and a thousand winged ants came up out of the cracked path pursued by tiny, scurrying males. What’s that called when the male and the female are different, like walruses?
Sexual diamorphism. I had to look it up. Poor leaky memory, like a perforated dog-shit-bag. Where sexual diamormphism has occurred we can infer environmental pressures imapcting on the evolutionary process of a species in different ways, in particular sexual selection. This pre-supposes, obviously, that a super-being didn’t make everything one day in work.
Just to note. I’m not suggesting that a supreme being didn’t create everything over the course of one working week, (six days which would wear you out to be fare), I’m just saying that an alternative fact, (hang on sec facts are facts right no such thing then as an alternative to a fact unless you mean bullshit) is that life formed slowly over millions and millions of years diverging slowly, changing, adapting to ever changing environmental pressures. Obviously, this does not explaination does not exclude the possibility of holy Jesus’ da making everything. He may have set the train in motion.
Let’s move on shall we. Sexual diamormphism is apparent in many bird species. We’ll take one of the more famous as an example. The peacock. The male and the female are different, (this will lead us nicely onto outgrowth characteristics, which is the whole point of this blog). The boys have big beautiful tails, the only function, achieving sexaul success, in fact an inpediment to movement, to escape from predation, but attractive to mates. An outgrowth characteristic, grown out from species specific demands. The tail is problematic, limiting, but without it see your poor old genetic material come to the end of the tracks.
What’s our outgrowth? Love, maybe. Limiting, problematic, but unfurled, spectacular, beautiful, dazzling.
We went away, driving halway across Ireland, Wicklow to Blarney. L- organised everything. I drove, put up the tent, hammered pegs like a dumb animal. The sky last night scattered the last of the light like bird seed. Red stains bleed from the clouds like a rewinding slow motion video of blood soaking into a bandage. L- by the fire. She is a goddess, Freyja in the North, Aphrodite in the South, I watched her undress and she let me kiss every inch of her. A peacock tail.
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