Gorillus Americanus Obesus

A couple of years ago my daughter and I were at the zoo, looking at the primate exhibit. All we could see was the male alpha, a heavy, grizzled gorilla who had installed himself in the best patch of shade, and was picking away with little interest at a pile of green bananas.

As we watched, a lady gorilla emerged from the scrub, took a spot immediately in front of the male, and in plain sight of the crowd assumed a very expressive body position. You can see the human equivalent in the nightclubs in Newport. I think the correct zoological term for it is 'presenting'.

Instantly there was a gasp from the crowd, and most of the parents clapped their hands over eyes of the smaller children, and steered them away towards the reptiles or the insects - animals that were less likely to require candid, on-the-spot explanations of the basic transactions of reproductive commerce. (Thankfully my daughter had already ran ahead to the next exhibit.)

But the male gorilla didn't even move. He was mashing the bananas between his big leathery hands, and seemed to be on the verge of almost falling asleep. Why bother? Why emerge from that zone of comfort? Eventually he disappeared into a door in the rock wall.

A parable maybe, for congressional Republicans, for Americans in a global market, or for anyone who is complacent with the status quo. Rivals in the wild might have made him stronger. But in his cage he was the uncontested king.

Apoligies to Mike Meckler for what is probably more botched Latin.