A Story Named John

Let me tell you a story — a story about a particularly peculiar ape named... John. 
You may also call him — or her — Bill, Larry, Lucy, or even Miss Peregrine.

The name doesn't matter, but it adds a nice touch — don't you think?

John lived long ago, although I'm sure he would have wished to be here right now.
Firstly, he would be alive, and secondly, because he would have much preferred to live in a "modern world" — a definition that changes with every passing century. Funny how one is always living in a "modern world," yet history is full of ancient times. But I digress.

You see, John wasn't very keen on this whole hunt-and-gather thing.
In fact, he disliked it a lot.

Not only was hunting extremely dangerous, but it also made him sweat. Remember, there were no showers — only cold rivers. While some like to dip their toes (and more) in icy water, John did not.

Gathering was little better, but it made his back hurt. Ouch.

You might ask, "what was John fond of then?"
And while I do agree that the question is just, let's keep this story fit for all.

Then one day, it hit.
No, not lightning, but something even worse — a thought.

Because while John may not have been the greatest hunter of the herd, he was a thinker — mostly because he was the only one who had time for such nonsense.

Thinking — what a stupid thought.

So one day, when John was sitting on a rock, tending his sore back, he looked around and, with a little pout on his mouth, said, "why must I, John of the Great Apes, go where the food is? Why doesn't the food come to where I am instead?"

And so it began — a long list of bad ideas.

"Bad? That's a brilliant idea!" — you may now notice your bread hole whisper.

But let me explain to you, while obviously sitting in a very comfortable chair in a warm house, coffee in hand, staring this rather odd bright thing that connects us together. Even if we've never actually met.

You see, while John's idea was great indeed, he also started a chain full of wars, disease, greed, hunger and inequality.

Poor John just didn't know that.

So he took a stick and started drawing a circle-ish shape around his rock and a few good-looking bushes. He then proceeded to tell everyone else that this was his rock and those were his bushes. At this point, most fellow members just exchanged a meaningful look and said, "okay, John, as you wish."

But some started to think the same way you did.

And slowly, one by one, everyone started to draw circles and claim that this was their fruit tree, their cave, and their mammoth herd. Soon the whole area and all its animals, fruits, and berries were claimed by someone.

Now that John's days didn’t go to finding food — as the food had come to him — he had time to... ask a Pleistocene ("modern world") stork to bring him lots of little Johns. And Lucys, Bills, and even Miss Peregrines. I am sure there was also a Karen. There is always a Karen.

Sadly, the Earth didn't expand at the same rapid rate as John's (and many others’) family.

Starting to see the problem?

Slowly, the lands grew smaller, and everyone was forced to live even closer to each other. Neighbors. Do I need to say more?

First, there was a lot of arguing. Then came the fistfights, followed by real fights.

After someone was hit a little too hard on the head and kicked a very old bucket, they decided to name one member of the clan as a leader who would solve all their disputes. In exchange for all this trouble, they wouldn’t have to work at all — not even on their own piece of land.

(No, it wasn’t John. But he would have loved to.)

This was also the time when flu was invented. You may thank John the next time you lay on the couch, wishing for either quick healing or even faster demise, while trying to find the remote control in a pile of rather yucky tissues.

Meanwhile, other clans had their own Johns. And Karens. Don’t forget the Karens.
(They also had their own flus.)

Acre by acre, the Johns of the West Side got closer to the Johns of the East Side. And South. And North. They also had their leaders, who had already gotten used to this very convenient life.

"Me, going back to picking my own berries? Never!"

Clans that once were friendly — if they ever passed each other — were now in full war mode. Wars never end well.

And with each passing year, decade, century, and millennium, there was always another John. And a next. And a next, until they ran out of John Junior Juniors.

Fast forward to the current "modern world": we have managed not only to claim the whole Earth (that still hasn’t expanded to fit our needs) but to destroy most of it. Each passing year, we demand more resources than it can provide, while managing to create not one but two utterly new concepts: world hunger and obesity.

We have spilled our own blood. Killed our own kind for the sake of greed and a will to own something that cannot be owned.

And all because a certain John had a thought.