Riverrun, vol. 2

MANILA, Philippines - I tell my literature classes, whenever an excuse presents itself, that the most marvelous physical thing known in the universe is the human brain, and that therefore there is after all a basis for us feeling central in the cosmos as we walk down the road – or as we come down the astronaut’s plank, say, with an anthropocentric step if not swagger. So that size does matter – the human brain is the largest on the planet (for our size, in proportion to). First runner-up appears to be the dolphin’s/porpoise’s, and second, the chimpanzee’s.                                               

The essayist Joseph Wood Krutch, ‘a public thinker,’ wrote a naturalist’s or environmentalist’s essay (but I can’t forget the literary one where he demonstrates the extinction of tragedy as a literary form and the diminution of man – man has shrunk, diminished, dwindled!) the whole of which was devoted to a comparison between man and dolphin, not with regard to brain size, though very much with regard to which animal has lived more intelligently – which of these two most intelligent animals on the planet has shown more intelligence in its, shall we say with a smile, lifestyle.

Following the comparison, we find ourselves looking upon a striking, standout difference.

The world of the dolphin is the sea; water is its universe – as a consequence, fin and tail are the items in its anatomy that most connect, bind it metaphysically to that universe. The dolphin is, as we put it, born to swim. Water is the perfect medium of its being. No need to make any changes. The dolphin has no hands; it won’t touch creation (oops) – it’s more than content to swim, play, dolphin ludens. The ocean is safe in its hands, er, fins.

In contrast, we know what man has done to ocean, land, river and air – to the planet. In a clear-cut way, man seems born to stand up to the elements, to nature, to be homo faber, with his tools, with his hands.

‘Hands’ like ‘eyes’ and ‘lips’ and ‘hair’ are lyrical anatomy. Easily turned to song. I only have eyes for you. Your hair streaked with sunlight, your lips red as flame. And hands? Listen to the Sex Pistols: You need hands to hold someone you care for. You need hands to show that you’re sincere. When you fear nobody wants to know you, You need hands to brush away the tears. Or Sir Tom Jones: With these hands, I will bring to you a tender love as warm as May.

So far, so thanks Heaven for human hands.

Should there be a stormy sea, I’ll turn the tide for you.

Whoa! That’s something else if you peer closer. Albeit only a figure of speech, hyperbole, that’s a glimmer of man’s monster baby – technology, that awesome thing in his hands so powerful it can turn dreams to reality and, shiver, reality into a dream! Blow you to, in other words, kingdom come.

Enola Gay was a crew of eleven and its commander was Colonel Paul Tibbets, etcetera. But I wanted to know if there was one crewman who could be called the triggerman, somebody whose hand was closest to being the one that dropped the merchandise. It seems Major Thomas Ferebee, being the ‘bombardier,’ would be it but not quite. In the group picture, he appears to be the handsomest and the most virile-looking, the one that the word ‘bombardier’ fits.

The bomb, anyway, was codenamed Little Boy. Serendipity! I’m full circle back to hands, albeit it’s no romantic lyric from Tin Pan Alley or Broadway or the British Invasion. It’s a nursery rhyme from Grade School:

I have two hands, the left and the right. Hold them up high, so clean and bright. Clap them softly – one two three, clean little hands are good to see!

Fortunately, the technology-hand fusion is Joseph Wood Krutch’s and one may opt to be optimistic and trust the Hand that created everything including our brain and our hands that of course evolved through the aeons. Surely the mudras, those benign hand gestures of the Buddha, are a sufficient reason to hope all will be well, we are the guard, especially the Abhaya Mudra that says Fear not.