As an anthropologist of some standing, I have quietly observed the behaviour of this particular tribe of Homoscribeans (Homo-scribe-ee-ans) for many years, by pretending to be one.
I regard myself as Cheshire’s answer to Dian Fossey. But rather than studying mountain gorillas in Rwanda, I have chosen this group of primates in their own habitat (Blue Cap).
This log relates to the tribe’s monthly gathering on Monday, 7th March 2016:
A good number of the Scribes arrived at the gathering place, including a new one (Trevor) who ventured into the fold for the first time. The dominant male of the group (Bob) welcomed him.
This intelligent, social species likes to keep its assemblies well structured – and each gathering usually begins with a writing exercise. This month’s topic was the blog, and the lack of members offering to write it. The task was to think of ways of making it a more appealing prospect, so that more of the tribe got involved.
I realised that to keep my cover intact, I ought to engage more with the group’s activities, and so I put my hand up when the dominant male (Bob) asked for a volunteer to write this month’s post. Of course I now realise that in doing so, my cover (eminent Primatologist masquerading as a Scribe) has been completely blown. I hope this does not mean rejection from the herd.
Every monthly conclave of the Homoscribeans is a lively affair, comprising members’ news, group news, readings, feedback from readings, dates for the diary and so on. Rather than document every interaction (due to the fact that my note taking is rubbish and my memory is even worse) I shall relate some of the highlights from the March meeting.
A ripple of excitement was sparked when the youngest member of the colony (Natalie) announced that her novel, Clockwork Evangeline, had won first prize in a competition, and she had also had success with placing some of her short stories. The news prompted the group to slap their hands together in the manner of sea-lions.
There was more joy to come, when the alpha male (Bob) held up a paperback copy of his book, Last Gasp. I understand having a paperback book with your name written on the front is somewhat of a big dream and a goal for many, if not all, of the Homoscribeans.
The readings were, as per, of a very high standard. The leading poetess of the tribe (Tonia) recited something beautiful and romantic which spoke of the sea. A piece of work which, without question, should have won that competition in Liverpool. The tallest member of the group (Bill) also read out a poem about love, but this one contained the word snot – which means it probably would have won that competition in Liverpool.
(NB/ please do not read this as a slight against Liverpool. It is a reference to that particular competition).
Possibly the most interesting observation of the evening came when food was introduced into the pack. The nurturing female (Steph) had produced a magnificent cookies and cream cake to celebrate the Big Birthday of the (most?) senior member (Tom).
It was at this point that the well-ordered gathering broke down into noisy chaos as each member shoved their faces into the trough and devoured slices of the foodstuff. Although there were dainty forks and napkins, anarchy reigned in the gathering place (Blue Cap) for the time it took for the members to sate themselves. I truly have never witnessed anything like it. It was a feeding frenzy. It made Serengeti lions laying into a baby springbok look like a Downton Abbey tea party. That poor poor cake. It never stood a chance.
Once appetites had been satisfied, the rest of the evening progressed without incident. I think. My rubbish note taking and even worse memory means I can’t remember.
And so, I hope this gives some insight into the extant primate group known as Homoscribeans.
Intelligent, social – and very hungry.