ORIGIN OF SPECIES: Part I

(This is the true story of the origin and development of the human species Homo Sapiens, revealed to me in a dream. Modern medicine has not yet discovered the use of or purpose for the intestinal organ known to us as the Appendix. It’s really quite simple, and explains much else about our modern life…)

The central room of The Cave, with its high vaulted ceiling soaring above, higher than any of Our People had ever dared climb, was the assembly-point for every member of the tribe that night, the night of the Full Moon, the night of The Ceremony. All were there, from the youngest to the oldest, the healthy and the sick, and even one who was in his last moments, and with his last strength insisted on being carried to the place, and had been laid on a shelf of rock where he could see the Ceremony. He had quietly died there without anyone noticing.

The Shaman Ugurk stood where he belonged on this night of the Full Moon, this night of The Ceremony – at the foot of the natural rock table called by Our People, Al-Tar, in the center of the floor of The Cave, on which had been placed the body of the Chieftain’s youngest son, Azak. The young hunter’s fine-muscled body was grotesquely swollen at the abdomen, as it should be. All had gone well with The Process, all the Signs were favorable. Ugurk’s ancient back straightened, and he stood tall, and straight, and strong, and calm, before all of Our People, including the current chieftain Ozyk, the father of Azak.

Our People stood on paths and ledges all around and above the bare, cleared floor of The Cave, which was inhabited only by the Shaman Ugurk, his disciple, pupil, and assistant Asram, and the hunter Azak. The Cave was dimly lit by the wavering flicker of several blazing torches, which made mysterious dancing figures appear on the walls of The Cave, and by the low fire which Asram tended in the fire-pit near Al-Tar. The scent of the smouldering herbs in the fire-pit was heavy, and sweet.

Ugurk raised the Knife, the ceremonial tool more ancient than Our People could count, made of sharpest, blackest obsidian, and focused his mind on the Knife, its blackness rendering it barely visible against the darkness of The Cave’s unknown height. Holding it with both hands, as he had been taught by his predecessor as Shaman, Omri, and as he had done so many times before on this occasion, Ugurk invoked the Spirits that ruled this world, and asked them to Draw Down The Power, and guide his hand straight and true, that Our People might grow and prosper.

As always before, Ugurk’s call was answered. It seemed to him that he looked out with his own eyes that were no longer solely his, to his own two hands holding the Knife, but the hands were no longer solely his either, nor was any part of him – all was consumed by and within The Power, and yet – he remained, within himself, alone and aware. And, at the proper moment, The Power seized his hands and drove the Knife deep into the Azak’s abdomen, just below the swelling.

The hunter Azak did not scream in pain – Ugurk’s own powders, dissolved in pure water and infused with the properly chosen leaves, had of course seen to it that Azak would feel no unseemly pain. However, Azak