Apes and evolution

Something is happening which is not happening.
Something is happening that is not happening at all.

Exams are coming up next week and of course it's one of the most beautiful weeks we've had here in a while. Thanks, Justice-delivering Weather Gods. (Dicks.) He kicks himself in the now fairly-well-dented-from-kicking region for not using some of that long-gone "free time" to do a better job of preparing for exams gradually. When will he learn? "Probably never," he whispers to himself under his breath and laughs a mocking laugh thinking, "How could such a self-destructive personality be the result of thousands of years of evolution?" He proceeds to wonder how he might have been as an ancient ape and falls into a deep reverie, failing to make any progress on the mountain of 17th and 18th century Spanish poetry books he has yet to scale. Coming back to himself a long while later, he thinks "If the above were more than a just a bad metaphor for “a lot of work,” it would probably be quite helpful to have an ape-like physique to climb said mountain of books. Climbing books might even be fun. You could build some really cool obstacles with books. Suddenly receiving a neural message from his more others-focused side (that is to say, his less egocentric side), he mulls “Maybe there is some way to blend the activities of climbing and reading books that could be designed into a low-cost, after-school activity and implemented in underfunded school districts to encourage kids to read. Leaving that puzzle for another time the ape scratches his head and tries to understand this habit he's developed of going on epic mental journeys of late. He remembers the mountain of books and proceeds to ask himself (rhetorically) why he is so averse to sitting down and doing as much of the work in front of him that he can in the time he has left, like any reasonable ape would do. But before he can move forward with that train of thought, he finds himself overwhelmed by a craving for potassium, so he leaves his room, pulling himself along on his knuckles and starts on his way to the nearest banana grove, which is somewhere in Africa. He was never very good at thinking things through before acting. Upon arriving at the spot where his landmass meets the indifferent and bananaless ocean, he sighs deeply, sits on a rock, and wonders why he can’t ever seem to get to where he’s going.