On the problems of Domesticating Lemurs
Created | Updated May 28, 2003
For years, man has strove to domesticate the lemur.
Okay, that's a lie, but it's very nearly true. Humans often seem to try to change things. "Oh look," says man, "there's a stone there, if I chip it away, it might make a different shape," or "oh look, a stick, if I pull at it, I might be able to make it sharp and then use it to change the shape of other things!"
No doubt, this desire to change things will eventually continue on to lemurs.
But what is the advantage of domesticating lemurs? Is it really worth all the effort? Scientist once tied 18 monkeys to keyboards and left them there for a month, just to see if they typed out any of Hamlet.
They didn't.
What was the point of that? Did they actually think they would get any of Hamlet? They had a copy of Hamlet in their office, so what did they need another copy for? Moreover, even if the monkeys did type out a copy, they wouldn't truly understand the beauty of the iambic hexameter or the epic simile. Even then, so what? The "monkeys typing out Hamlet" is just another cliché. You're not actually meant to try to get some monkeys to type out Hamlet – it’s a statement about probability, not to do with the narrative abilities of monkeys.
If scientists could teach a lemur to speak, they would. But then where would they be? It wouldn't actually understand, it would just be able to make some noises that sounded like voices. A lemur's voice box can make around 30 sounds. A human's voice box can make 47. So, that means that a lemur could in theory say most words that a human can. There will be a few words lemur's can't say, like "washing line" for example, but I'm sure they'll be able to find alternatives.
Anyway, let us assume that a scientist did eventually manage to domesticate a lemur. So, this lemur is sitting in a classroom, studying history with some very embarrassed 3rd formers, and suddenly, for no discernable reason, the lemur goes crazy and eats the teacher. Or a part of the teacher. Whatever, it eats something.
Some primeval instinct in the lemur has been triggered. Lemurs are nasty things - they've got a nasty scratch on them, and teaching them to talk or housetrain them isn't going to get rid of this.
So, the moral behind this story is:
Next time you see a lemur, leave it in the tree where it belongs and go and read a book or something.
Okay, that's a lie, but it's very nearly true. Humans often seem to try to change things. "Oh look," says man, "there's a stone there, if I chip it away, it might make a different shape," or "oh look, a stick, if I pull at it, I might be able to make it sharp and then use it to change the shape of other things!"
No doubt, this desire to change things will eventually continue on to lemurs.
But what is the advantage of domesticating lemurs? Is it really worth all the effort? Scientist once tied 18 monkeys to keyboards and left them there for a month, just to see if they typed out any of Hamlet.
They didn't.
What was the point of that? Did they actually think they would get any of Hamlet? They had a copy of Hamlet in their office, so what did they need another copy for? Moreover, even if the monkeys did type out a copy, they wouldn't truly understand the beauty of the iambic hexameter or the epic simile. Even then, so what? The "monkeys typing out Hamlet" is just another cliché. You're not actually meant to try to get some monkeys to type out Hamlet – it’s a statement about probability, not to do with the narrative abilities of monkeys.
If scientists could teach a lemur to speak, they would. But then where would they be? It wouldn't actually understand, it would just be able to make some noises that sounded like voices. A lemur's voice box can make around 30 sounds. A human's voice box can make 47. So, that means that a lemur could in theory say most words that a human can. There will be a few words lemur's can't say, like "washing line" for example, but I'm sure they'll be able to find alternatives.
Anyway, let us assume that a scientist did eventually manage to domesticate a lemur. So, this lemur is sitting in a classroom, studying history with some very embarrassed 3rd formers, and suddenly, for no discernable reason, the lemur goes crazy and eats the teacher. Or a part of the teacher. Whatever, it eats something.
Some primeval instinct in the lemur has been triggered. Lemurs are nasty things - they've got a nasty scratch on them, and teaching them to talk or housetrain them isn't going to get rid of this.
So, the moral behind this story is:
Next time you see a lemur, leave it in the tree where it belongs and go and read a book or something.
