260 million years ago, even before Madonna lost her virginity, dinosaurs roamed the region of South Africa we now call the Karoo. (Then called the GRRHMMPHGROINK! I think. My Palaeozoic is rusty.) They hung around the edges of an inland sea, now known as the Randburg Waterfront, feeding, fighting and presumably fucking although we can't be sure of that last one. All reconstructions of these babes I've seen have been monumentally ugly and the real reason for their extinction could have been a failure to breed, because Hovasaurus females looked like a hatful of burst arseholes.
Although scientists have known of the fossils there since the 1840's, some farmers in the area have just woken up the financial potential of having Jurassic Park anoraks traipsing across their land looking for dinosaur footprints. The result is cultural meltdown. Paleo-tourism will bring in money and be a viable alternative to "darkie-ou" tourism which might bring back the Rinderpest. On the other hand, the local brand of fundamentalist Christianity believes, quite literally, that God made the world in six days, rested for one and then thoughtfully provided black people so that fat arsed settlers wouldn't have to lift a finger from then on. Dinosaurs didn't exist. Period. Not in any period. Period.
Early humans in the area are easier to accept as long as they're too early to want their land back. Their traces can be found in the area too, although I recommend that, instead of searching for primitive humanoids in the hot, dusty veldt, palaeontologists should go to any bar in De Aar. They're all still there. A word of caution though, the 1970's retro-fashions aren't cool, ironic statements. The only design house is that of Jannie Visagie and Liz Hurley isn't a customer.
I wonder what life was like for your average Ug trundling through the pre-historic savannah. He's just come down from the trees, so he's a moer of a lot slower than the average antelope that he's chasing. He's carrying a club, which is supposed to help him kill his prey, but actually slows him down even more and he's nowhere near the top of the food chain. To a sabre toothed tiger he's just takeout. Anyway, Ug's scared, hungry and exhausted, but getting closer to home. Suddenly, out of the bush right in front of him, pops Ugette, giving him a hell of a fright.
This is the point where traditional and feminist anthropologists diverge. The traditional (male) theory is that Ug says: "Look, Dear, I, your patrician and provider, have been down to the plain to fetch food for you and the little Uglets and at the same time, using my superior brain power and opposing thumbs, I have discovered fire and the wheel to make your life easier. How about a quick pomp as a reward?"
Women know better. He actually says: "Bitch! I, your parasite scum cohabiter have been out all day picking unnecessary fights with our wimpy, vegetarian neighbours and squandering our scarce joint resources on marula juice. Come over here and give me a quick blowjob or I'll beat you up again and snatch the last remaining food from the Uglets' mouths before farting and falling asleep as usual."
I think that if he hit her with the club and dragged her to the cave, he was more likely to eat her than have sex. The Lord's injunction may be to be fruitful and multiply, but it's damned difficult to carry out when you're scared, paranoid and all you can think of is a braai. Anyone who has ever tried shagging while on a coffee and Bio-Slim diet will know what I mean. Crying out, "Mash Potatoes!" when you come is not going to get you laid or fed in most houses. Eventually humans must have done something right, because we out-nastied the big lizards and the tigers and now tourists are flocking to the Karoo to see things that they can't pronounce. Asking directions to the Permian therapsids' footprints is a bugger. Especially in Afrikaans.
Australian palaeontologists solved the publicity problem when they discovered two new fossils. In scientific circles, the people who discover the beasties get to name them, so odds on favourites in the naming stakes were "Unintelligiblelatinosaurus" and "Boringoldfartosaurus". Australian academia however knows a bit about marketing and the creatures were called "Thingodonta" and "Weirdodonta". I suppose all the good names like Bruce and Sheila were already taken. They also found the fossil of a giant prehistoric python and actually restrained themselves from calling it the common Aussie one-eyed-trouser-snake. They went one better and gave it the official name of "Montypythonoides".
We gotta find sexier names for our critters. Any suggestions?
Al
A special word of thanks this week goes to The Book of Life, Editor, S.J. Gould for providing the facts and for featuring the most amazing illustrations that REALLY come to life when you're tweaked off your guava on over the counter flu medication.
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