h2g2 The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy: Earth Edition

Don't. Insult. Neanderthals.

They are among my ancestors.

have to say the music guys, epp, it was one of things I could never get over

thanks though for the shower scene Dmitri

No insult intended.

I get my brow ridges and occiput from my own Neanderthal ancestors, along with the integral sign like recurves in my long bones, though I suppose my chin and forehead go back to the Damanisi hybrids.

Recent findings, the Melanesian type apparently originated in central Asia, a third population distinct from the Neanderthals and Cro-Magnons,




Observations on Neanderthals and Cro-Magnons.

With Cro-Magnons, the shins tend to be longer than the thighs, an articulation one finds commonly with athletes scoring well in running events. (Without going in to the bio-physics.)

On the other hand, with the Neanderthals, the reverse obtained, thighs often longer than shins, an articulation one finds these days with about half of ballet and other dance professionals, implication, far from being awkward and clumsy, Neanderthals were probably very graceful and sure footed.

The Neanderthals and the Cro-Magnons coexisted in Europe for tens of thousands of years before both disappeared, supplanted by the Magdalenian culture, which shares traits of both.

The Sunni people of northern Scandinavia are probably not very far removed from the Magdalenian type.

Okay, I'm mollified.

And I'm glad you liked that shower scene, Peanut - it always makes me laugh.

Awwwww, Porthos is the most adorable beagle I ever saw.

And I love it that he boldly watered trees on planets where .. Great line. A Mister D line. .

And what a great story.

Now I have two favourite screen doggies. Columbo's basset hound, and Porthos.

What other famous screen doggies do I love? hmm. Toto? Well, not quite the same. Lassie? 101 Dalmations? I don't know them so well. Eddie, from Frasier, I love Eddie. There must be others, I'm going to think about it. Nothing can separate me from Porthos now though.



Hullo ITI! Wait a minute, changing postings here.

And Peanut luvvy!!

Yes, I like that, Mister D my friend, about it being never too late to get it.

Especially as ..... I just got Elvis yesterday. What??

I've never been much of an Elvis fan, but yesterday I bought this Christmas CD, well, it's three CDs in fact, with all the cheesy Christmas hits on it, it's great! I've been playing it incessantly in the car, will my spouse survive Christmas?

Anyway, there's Elvis singing Blue Christmas on it, which is so incredible, with his backing group The Jordanaires.

And so we just ordered the legendary 1957 Elvis Christmas Album.



Now to consider ITI's legendary observations on Neanderthals and Cro-magnons. This could give me strange dreams. . I just put 'neanderthal woman' into Google images to give me an idea of my ancestry.

I need brandy.

Historically, anthropological artists have had a tendency to accentuate the bestial in the appearance of early human types, since they wanted to produce a sense that modern humans were descended from more primitive types.

The turnaround on that, accentuating the human aspect, is comparatively recent.

There are evidences that 'Homo Heidelbergensis', an important precursor to the Neanderthals survived in the British Isles almost to the advent of the iron age, the characteristic upturned nose of Heidelbergensis is often depicted as a bestial trait, though as a matter of fact its something considered cute and attractive with people the present day who've got the trait.

http://blog.joemcnally.com/wp-content/uploads/2009/12/mm75890804271827.jpg

This particular comparison of modern and Neanderthal facial profiles is a good one, I think.

Hullo ITI! Yes, this is very interesting.

I always did feel that if I met one of these lady ancestors, there's a chance we could relate on a human level, like have a chat about emotions, shoes and underwear. Actually that's quite stupid, what I just said, the bit about shoes and underwear, even though I do talk about shoes and underwear, in my deeper moments.

Seriously though, I think there'd be an emotional human link. Very interesting.



Of course, if I was transported to that time, and if I had a choice, I would seek out the shamans, healers, cave painters and visionaries, so I could communicate with the secret mysterious ancestors.

I honour my ancestors of course, but at family weddings, funerals, gatherings, I tend to want to seek out of the shamans, healers, cave painters and visionaries, who aren't usually at the gatherings because they have gone recently mad, and are taking time out to communicate with their secret mysterious ancestors.



I do have a sense of secret mysterious ancestors. Seriously I do. Where do I come from? I might not go as far as, say, Terence McKenna, with his mushroom spores that come from outer space. And I'm not sayng I come from outer space. I think I come from inner space, and my ancestors are peculiar ethereal poet-angels playing pianos in bars.



(looks in mirror. And I have my mother's antennae).

I am being quite stupid today, sorry. Give me a coffee, and I will leave.

Very interesting though.

A couple of typos in there, sorreee.

I think it's because I am considering ancestors. I enter the galaxy of chocolate flake , and get quite hyper. . I am quite serious about mysterious ancestors, though. Perhaps there's an entire race made of dream essence.

OK OK gone.

I reckon the best people are mongrels. My son is a quarter Austrian, a quarter Hungarian and an eighth Irish!

Hullo mvp! That's an interesting mix. . I love the mix of our human stories. Ask anyone about their mix and it does become very fascinating indeed! Thanks for reminding me.



Add spice, pepper, question marks, cryptic maps and a twist of lemon, and lo! a new character story appears. I wish. heheh. Be good for my writing group homework. Damn. I just can't do characterisation. I'm going to have to break out in abstract absurdity, and turn my page into paper wings.

Just been to the Christmas market beside the Cathedral. Bought a tiny bottle of honey mead, mmmm I love honey mead, and a kaleidoscope.

It is one of those kaleidoscopes that makes mandala patterns out of what you see around you, rather than from coloured glass fragments. I used to have one, haven't seen one for years. The Cathedral looks awesome through it. Very happy.

'Spice, pepper, cryptic maps and a twist of lemon and a new character appears.'

OK, let's have a go. 'Nisha's mind was wandering as she mixed the ingredients for the pethis. She flicked her dark hair out of her face and tried again. Coriander,salt and pepper and a twist of lemon to mix into the grated coconut. But, although she was a dutiful daughter and worked hard in her father's restaurant, she couldn't stop thinking about the sheet of paper that had slipped out of the box of coconuts. It looked like a map, showing a bay with islands, but the place was strange, with too many flourishes to be real. And the writing was in a language she couldn't read. Although she'd grown up sepaking English, she could manage some Gujarati. Perhaps it was sanskrit.'

That's it! See? Characterisation! A marvel. heheh. Damn.

(paces around room)

(well, I would pace around the room, if I wasn't still in bed drinking coffee and eating some weird tasting turkish delight that I bought in the market yesterday.)

(Peers at turkish delight in the half light)

(I think I'll ask Nisha about it later, when we have coffee in town. She knows about these things.)

So mvp, see, you make a character real, just like that. Za zoom, you wave your magic biro and lo! Nisha exists. I'm already meeting her for coffee later, and asking her about dodgy turkish delight, because I know she knows about culinary matters.




And in one paragraph we have a hint at her appearance, ethnic background, plus mystery that makes me want to know about the piece of paper. Please. Depicting the bay. With islands. That seems strange. With too many flourishes to be real.

You'd better continue the story. Please. Writerlady. Now. Now. Now. Otherwise I won't share my turkish delight with you. heheh.



I love it.

Of course, I know you work hard at your writing craft, and I love to read it, I really do.



Funny thing, like many people, I make up stories, and characters, all the time. I'm always rabbiting on, spontaneous flights of fancy. Oh, you know that already?

It's the internal pressure to make it a worthwhile or entertaining journey for others, that's what I can't get over, that's the flaw, the missing link, which is why I block on characterisation.

The pressure kills the drive, the vocation. It makes me go all twisty and gives me a headache, and I can't be spontaneous any more.

I feel like a paranoid Tour Operator. How can I give these readers a worthwhile journey? They have paid for their tickets, they have expectations. They need this journey.

What if their hotel has roaches or green running water, or if their coach breaks down on a mountain pass and they spend three days talking to yak hallucinatons?

Character One. The Paranoid Tour Operator.



hmm. . It's OK. I already talk about it in my writing group, but I still like rabbiting on anyway, and the least I can do is have a bit of a laugh about in on the way.



And enjoy the fruits of the hard work of others.

Don't forget to finish the story.

Please.

I know what you mean about the Paranoid Tour Operator. He tells me all the time my writing's not much good, and I ought to be doing something more useful, like cooking, or cleaning.

It doesn't stop me writing but it does alter what I might do with my bits of writing. I suppose I have three classes of writing - scribbles which are private and I don't allow out, bits of writing that I'm prepared to share with friends (which includes sticking them here) and writing that I might send out to a wider audience. I've tried sending poems to magazines and even entering a few competitions, but I don't usually get anywhere. So it's at that point I think of giving up.

Oh you do? You know what I mean? That's useful, mvp, thanks. And very interesting. So, if one whom I uphold as a writer knows what I mean, hmm, now I have to think about things.

Of course, I now must first bash your Paranoid Tour Operator on the head with a frying pan, for telling you that your writing's not much good. S'cuse me, just looking for a frying pan, before you use it to create your next dish. Your writing is most useful, writers cannot live on bread alone. Or even really creative dishes alone. I have spoken.



You're right about those categories. Thanks. I'm good on the first two, that's why hootoo is so special, it's the wider audience that spooks me.

See..

Oh, have to go have lunch. I had an inspired realisation on the escalator in the department store this morning, somewhere between the green plastic christmas trees, (with added perching birdies) and the bargain bin selling wreaths with gold sparkly pine cones and unidentified berries.

Laters,

Ah yes, now where was I.

The Realisation.

Erm.. what was it?

Acceptance of my level, dance with the Paranoid Tour Operator and write peculiar sentences about The Flaw,

..rather than fear that I'm going to be outcast because I haven't fulfilled my role of artist in society. Now there's the pressure.

What is the role of the artist in society?

I would love to offer beautiful or inspiring works, that light up peoples' lives in some way.

However, I think my role is just to be myself, flaws and all.

This is why I had the realisation on the escalator. . What floor do I really want to get off at? Sort of thing.

I feel quite inspired in fact.

Laters.

Yay!