5 monkeys (does anyone else think it’s weird that we don’t change the “y” to an “ie” like everything else in our language? Anyways…) are placed in a cage and in the middle of the cage is a ladder. Once a day, a banana is hung right at the top of the ladder. One monkey climbed the ladder to get the banana, and when he reached it, all the other monkeys were sprayed with cold water. The next day, one of the monkeys climbs the ladder again, and the rest of the monkeys get sprayed. The third day, one monkey tries to climb the ladder, but all of the other monkeys pull him off and beat him up. After a while, it is understood that no monkey climbs the ladder. After 10 days, one of the original monkeys is removed and replaced by a monkey. One the first day, the new monkey tries to climb the ladder, and gets beaten up by all the other monkeys. The new monkey now knows not to climb the ladder or else he will get beat up. 10 days later, an original monkey is replaced by a new monkey, and the new monkey tries to go for the banana. All the other monkeys stop the new one from climbing and beat him up; even the second newest member who had never actually seen the consequence of reaching the banana joins in. The same process happens until all original monkeys are replaced one at a time with new monkeys. Soon, no monkey has ever seen what happens when they climb the ladder and reach the banana, but they all know they are not supposed to climb the ladder.
Weird how some cultures treat newcomers.
Three travelers are lost in the jungle, and they are suddenly surrounded by a tribe who binds them and takes them hostage. The tribe takes the three captives to their chief, who then walks up to the first traveler and asks in a deep, booming voice, “Death…or Bunga” The first traveler asks what Bunga is, and the chief points to an illustration of one man being sodomized by the other men from the tribe. The first man says, “I’d rather die with my dignity, so I choose death.” He’s taken away to be killed, and the chief moves to the second traveler and asks in a deep, booming voice, “Death…or Bunga” The guy thinks about it for a little while, and says, “I just can’t bring myself to do it. I choose death!” The second prisoner is taken away, and the chief moves to the final traveler, and once again, in a deep, booming voice, asks “Death…or Bunga” The last guy says, “Well, I certainly don’t want to die, so I choose Bunga.” The chief looks at the man, then looks to the tribe, and in a deep, booming voice says, “Death by Bunga.”
Weird how some cultures treat newcomers.
Weird how none of this makes sense. They’re just two stories I heard this week…
Thanks for reading, you little monkeys.
-Banana Hands
