One day we go to the bathroom and fifty years later we tell horror stories of how the tank malfunctioned and flooded the entire house. Today, "God restoreth my soul," while on countless earlier days children of the steppes and plains were run over by marauders. Our stampeding and pillaging is more subtle now: a morning paper and the news that capture tales of destruction and woe. We pour the blood of our neighbor out like water, drinking other's pain to satisfy our need for delight in the present moment. I grimace when someone calls for humans to evolve into being more human. Do they not know we would no longer be human?