A survey indicates that an increasing number of women are marrying beneath them. Not beneath them in stature, which would be rather comical, but beneath them in education and income. As a gorilla, I see this as a healthy development. I don’t like the idea of clever women breeding with clever men to produce a hyper-intelligent race of humans who think the sun shines out of their bottoms. The whole point of sexual reproduction is to mix up the genes, so that strengths offset weaknesses and vice versa. That’s why it’s better to choose a mate who complements rather than duplicates.
I can see the lifestyle advantages for the woman as well. A hot-shot lawyer needs a husband who’s happy to paint the shed and mow the lawn while she’s making the big bucks. The last thing she wants is a spouse with joint control of the purse-strings who will query every item on her charge card. There’s also the question of sexual attraction. I can well imagine that many educated women are bored of geeky guys and secretly pine for a farm boy who will carry them upstairs and ravish them with his boots on.
Even we silverbacks are not immune from such strange hankerings. I remember being approached by an intellectual lady back in my circus days – I think she was a reader in feminist studies.
“Carry me off to your tree-house, you big hairy beast!” she panted huskily.
“Madam,” I replied, “what you propose is unnatural, uncomfortable and anatomically dangerous. Kindly address your demands to the big hairy beasts of your own species.”
Yet in spite of such fetishes, humans have been remarkably successful at reproducing. That’s why it annoys me when they complain about other species multiplying fruitfully, often calling them “pests”.
A good example of such is the German raccoon, brought into the country in 1934 by Hermann Goering. It must be emphasized that these raccoons had no affiliation with the Nazi Party or sympathy for the tenets of National Socialism. Quite to the contrary, in fact. Once they realised they had been settled in Germany as a quarry species, they joined the resistance and carried out daring raids on hen houses and granaries. This did not stop the post-war German State unjustly describing them as “Nazi raccoons”, and subjecting them to repeated culls in an attempt (thankfully futile) to eradicate them.
The good news is that the German authorities have finally renounced their persecution of these brave and resourceful creatures:
"The raccoon is firmly established in Germany, this has to be accepted,” said Daniel Hoffman of the German Hunting Federation.
The next step is to rehabilitate them politically, so they are recognised as victims of the Nazi regime rather than collaborators. Perhaps then selfish German householders will stop complaining when the raccoons shelter in their homes during a cold snap and borrow a few provisions. Given that most Germans are fat-asses who eat too much, the raccoons are doing them a favour.
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