Society's burning questions

[thalassamania]

Many years ago, in Africa, I had a day off. I decided to go into town to the market. My driver went with me. I don't know why I had a driver, his driving scared the crap out of me. I never actually let him drive, but he was useful as a translator. I called him "Jones" for Parnelli Jones, or Casey Jones or someone like that since his true name was rather difficult to pronounce.

We explored the market. We found ourselves in a group of stalls where various kinds of meat were displayed. There was meat everywhere. Much if it was bush-meat, that is to say meat from animals that you would not normally think of eating such as monkeys and apes; as well as parts of animals that you'd never really consider eating either such as lungs, and brains and other organs. Some of it was illegal at the time.

I rounded a corner stall there; in front of me, was a small, wizened, old woman. She had a series of smallish, maybe 20 liter wooden barrels in front of her. Each barrel was filled with intact, whole brains. A numerical price was displayed on a cardboard sign affixed to the barrel, as was what appeared to be a description of the animal.

I whistled and motioned Jones over. I pointed at the first barrel. "Monkey brains, boss" he said, "'bout two pounds a kilo." I gestured toward another, "Zebra brains, pound, six a kilo." A third, "Gorilla, five and ten." And so on, we went through the crone's inventory. Toward the end we found, "People brains, forty-five pounds a kilo," and "genius people brains, boss, one hundred, twenty-five pounds a kilo."

I was rather shocked. It is never a good idea to make a scene in a place where you are the only non-native. That can be dangerous. I blurted out to my companion, trying hard to make it seem like an everyday thing, "Um ... one hundred, twenty-five pounds a kilo? Must be really fine brains." He grinned and spoke to the old lady in the lingua fraca, as she replied his grin widened. I asked him what she'd said. He told me, "Lady say no, boss. No good brains." So I asked, "Then why are they so expensive?" He translated, she answered, and he said to me, "No good brains boss, ya know how many geniuses gotta kill for a kilo of brains?"

Needless to say this story may, in fact, only be apocryphal.