‘Proud Paleo Perfect People’ by Mark Blickley

A sudden sound of blasting wind makes the tiki torches flicker. In struts Basil, the outlaw tribal shaman, wearing a large furry buffalo hat with protruding horns, a fancy fringed vest that reveals his chiseled chest, and a colorful speedo that houses an abnormally large scrotum. He flexes his amazing triceps and biceps in an exaggerated pose of greeting as he raises his arms above his head, strutting up to the outdoor stage.

‘Tribal Members! Proud Paleo Perfect People! You sacred PPPPs! Praise be to the Lard, and all other natural byproducts,’ shouts Basil.

His audience cheers.

‘A blessing on all your heads, from your family of physically and morally undefiled Paleolithic ancestors.’

‘Homeostasis in the highest!’ chants the crowd.

‘Sagging and shapeless mainstream mankind doesn’t want me to venerate and expose the powerful purity of our superior genes. Using work swallowing machines and flabby factory farming they want to strip us of our true Paleo heritage! The attempted molestation of we Proud Paleo Perfect People began on this very night at the very first D.O.A., Dawn of Agriculture’s sneak attack on humanity!’

‘Outrageous abomination! Homeostasis in the Highest! Praise be to the Lard and all other natural byproducts!’ screams the crowd.

Basil does repetitive, exaggerated sweeping bows to his followers, but in doing so, two huge peaches are dislodged from his speedo and fall to the ground. The crowd gasps in surprise and disillusionment.

An embarrassed Basil stutters, ‘They….they….those are naturally found and picked fruit. Not harvested from evil orchards!’ He raises up his flexed his arms to distract his followers as he quickly kicks the large peaches off to the side of the stage. He hides behind the lectern at the front of the stage in order to recover his dominance and dignity.

Basil lowers his arms and grips the sides of the lectern. ‘Quinoa, why is this evening, this night, different from all other evenings?’

‘Because it is the joyful commiseration of D.O.A. Eve, the Dawn Of Agriculture, Basil.’
‘And what is commiserated on this day, Herb?’ asks Basil.

Herb screams, ‘We commemorate on this sacred D.O.A. Eve, the 15,714th annual remembrance of a terror avoided by our beloved Paleo ancestors, Basil.’

‘Correct. And what constitutes this terror, Myrtle?’

Myrtle shouts, ‘It’s when humanity rejected their natural Paleolithic pureness of hunter/gather for the evil of the Dawn of Agriculture who raped the precious few inches of life-giving topsoil, Basil.’

‘Norman, why is this D.O.A. evil?’ asks Basil.

‘It marks Man’s fall from our true nature as self-sufficient food providers and into the perversion of farming and mechanized processed foods!’ replies Norman.

Basil glares at the crowd. ‘Myrtle, and what are the two greatest sins created at this Dawn of Agriculture?’

‘The sins of grain growing and animal husbandry, Basil. Modern humans castrate their ranched alpha beasts to more easily herd them into automated slaughterhouse pens.’

‘You speak truth, Myrtle. Are we animals, Herb? Do we marry fellow beasts?’

‘We are not animals, Basil. And we do not marry to destroy sensuality! We are PPPPs, Basil. Proud Paleo Perfect People! Untainted, loving human beings, not beasts who refuse to be slapped into a sexual shame of polygamy.

The crowd cheers and chants, ‘PPPP! PPPP! PPPP!’

Basil smiles and motions to them to lower their voices. ‘And the evils of cultivated grain? Tell me of this wickedness, Norman. This curse against human nature.’

Norman recites from memory, ‘Cultivated grain gave birth to the unnatural, wicked food of bread, Basil. The Dawn Of Agriculture began a…a….a degenerative…..and additive addictive invasion against humanity by seducing mankind with factory farmed processed foods. It attempts to contaminate and weaken our glorious Paleo primal genes with empty calories and enforced famines.’

Basil withdraws an extremely large red book from beneath the lectern and holds it above his head. ‘A reading from the sacred book of Holy Homeostasis!’

‘Praise be to the Lard and other natural byproducts,’ shouts the audience.

Basil lowers the book and opens it, flexing his muscles as he searches for the proper page. ‘As the revered Paleo Charles Atlas sayeth, ‘Evolution is a conscious process.’

The crowd cheers and when the noise dies down Basil resumes his reading. ‘And the man broke the bread, held it out to them, and sayeth, ‘Take, eat this bread. This is my body which is given to you.’ And what sayeth you, my precious Proud Perfect Paleo People?’

‘Hell, no! We are not animals or cannibals!’ screams the crowd.

Basil smiles and nods in approval. ‘Yes, we are not animals or cannibals my children. ‘Tis better dead than bread?’

‘Tis better dead than bread!’ the crowd echoes. ‘Better dead than bread! Better dead than bread!’

Basil drinks in the crowd hysterics before pausing and softly saying, ‘Yet there is one amongst you that shall betray us with a kibble and a nibble.’

‘Not on our watch, dear Basil! Not on our watch!’ screams the crowd.

Basil silences the crowd. ‘We shall wait and watch for evil. Ever vigilant. Wait and watch for evil.

‘Wait and Watch! Wait and Watch. Wait Watch! Wait Watch! Wait Watch!’ roars the audience.

Basil outstretches his arm in a symbolic communal hug. ‘Proud Paleo Perfect People, thou are indeed the beloved PPPP Wait Watchers!’

‘Wait Watchers! Wait Watchers! We are determined Wait Watchers! Better dead than bread! Homeostasis in the Highest! Blessed be the Lard and all natural byproducts!!’

Image by Mark Blickley


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