The Origin of Language
No one knows the origin of language.No one knows, though theories abound, how it works.We assume snarls and screams and flailing hands(Given the way we behave, this may not be wrong),But we can’t say when we began to lie.
Experts will tell you the risk of languageIs the lack of trust when so-and-so says “is”And knows perfectly well that it “is not”But wants to hurt you, steal your property,Poison your well, enslave your family.
How could humans have ever wanted to speak?The laws of the jungle are merely violent;The laws of men are also malicious:Boundless hatred, slavering greed, and lustInsatiable to deprave the innocent.
To answer this question you must confessYou’re no better than other men, maybe worse,And if, just so, you’re all alike, then and now,What could have possessed you as you faced each otherTo make these sounds in the first place?
Killing everyone’s a lot of work(Not today, of course, for us—we have H-bombs),And it limits the number of slaves you get.Betrayal and seduction and extortionAre perhaps slower but a lot less messy.
Besides a liar can always strut and crow,When he’s stying with his own, how he milkedThe suckers he seduced bleeding them dryAnd the boys can laugh—that’s what language is for—Though they’d prefer to be popping maidenheads.
In the dark where the victims shiver and cry,One holds another and they pray together,Not to any god—they both know better—But for the solace their language brings themThough death will open the door any minute now.
No one knows the origin of language.No one knows, though theories abound, how it works.We assume snarls and screams and flailing hands(Given the way we behave, this may not be wrong),But we can’t say when we began to lie.
Experts will tell you the risk of languageIs the lack of trust when so-and-so says “is”And knows perfectly well that it “is not”But wants to hurt you, steal your property,Poison your well, enslave your family.
How could humans have ever wanted to speak?The laws of the jungle are merely violent;The laws of men are also malicious:Boundless hatred, slavering greed, and lustInsatiable to deprave the innocent.
To answer this question you must confessYou’re no better than other men, maybe worse,And if, just so, you’re all alike, then and now,What could have possessed you as you faced each otherTo make these sounds in the first place?
Killing everyone’s a lot of work(Not today, of course, for us—we have H-bombs),And it limits the number of slaves you get.Betrayal and seduction and extortionAre perhaps slower but a lot less messy.
Besides a liar can always strut and crow,When he’s stying with his own, how he milkedThe suckers he seduced bleeding them dryAnd the boys can laugh—that’s what language is for—Though they’d prefer to be popping maidenheads.
In the dark where the victims shiver and cry,One holds another and they pray together,Not to any god—they both know better—But for the solace their language brings themThough death will open the door any minute now.