Lore of the Jungle

By Mark Kenneth

Life in the jungle and life in the city have a lot in common. Self-preservation in the jungle evolved into self-importance in the city. The herd of a family unit evolved into pluralistic herd instincts for a family, then to a team, then to a class and then it toned up to a national identity.

Mark Kenneth tells a story of gaining wisdom from a new university student, Aaron Aardvark, whose grand adventure along the footpath of life is to discover how the world works, or doesn’t.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Austin Macauley Publishers
• Release date: Jan 4, 2022
• ISBN: 9781528942522

Mark Kenneth

Old age and a cranky disposition are essential ingredients for the polishing of a cynical world view. Mark Kenneth satisfies both of these criteria. He used to work as a scientist but now freely airs his subjective opinions on society with scant, qualitative evidence. Mark enjoys walks and jogs in the scrub and generally finds his way home.

Book preview

The Adventure Takes Shape

Aaron Aardvark was always first in his class, though he never had the wherewithal to work out why. Still, his wherewithal didn’t stop him matriculating to university during the user-pay philosophy of his era. And why should it matter? After all, technological advances such as elastic sided boots and Velcro had made the need to be able to tie shoelaces as redundant as times tables.

There were many universities in the jungle. There was even one in his hometown. It would be cheaper to study there but…an inner restlessness was calling the young male to explore the world. Sure, Odette was pretty and he enjoyed her company, but there were lots of pretty young aardvarks out there, and lots to learn, lots to do, lots to explore. He could get a part time job to pay his way, surely? Uni courses were only part-time these days anyway, so he could make ends meet. Aaron wanted the freedom to explore the great mysteries of life that his own family and friends never talked about: why are we here, in this town? Why did celery become a ‘food’? Who ate the first oyster? Aaron needed this intellectual freedom.

One Friday night at the local, Aaron looked around at his classmates. Zechariah Zebra was as depressed as ever, always seemingly at the bottom of the heap. His place in the world was as passive an accident as Aaron’s; the pair was a new dimension in nominative determinism. Theresa Greene was as assertive as ever, even when sober, trying to convince everyone that her way was the only way, that all great prophets were vegan, that capitalism was the work of the devil, and that her piercings were all symbols of suffering in this world. The Ness twins, Alan and Peter, were popular with everyone yet Aaron had never fathomed the humour that their names evoked at roll call. Life at home was getting stale.

It was every student’s goal to get into a university at the capital of the jungle, Circleton. The biggest and best was East Metropolitan University, headed by none other than the great Professor Basil Busbottom. He had a reputation for having a great reputation. Those who didn’t make it to EMU, or even to Circleton, had either to attend the local university, Hometown University, or to leave town and find a university of possibly even lower status. However, these weren’t in short supply, unlike students with ability like Aaron’s, so it shouldn’t have been hard to get into a ‘uni’ somewhere.

So it was; in Aaron’s mind, he was off to explore the world, make his fame and fortune, and to chase girls. And if anyone had suggested it to him, he would have also admitted that he was profoundly puzzled by his place in the universe and the meaning of his life. But, as yet, no one had suggested it.

Jewny Jail

It was a long waddle from home to Circleton. Aaron conceived of the notion of buying a pushbike, but for now, he was uncertain of his meagre budget. Waddling it was. And caravan parks and hostels; no motel rooms. Time was on his side as he allowed a whole month for the epic waddle.

Aaron waddled for two days, finally arriving in the town of Jewny. It seemed a nice town, more of a village really, with well-kept houses and parks. The main industries were the jail and the lolly factory, the latter owned and run by the mayor, Les Miseryballs. Aaron started to think that this could be a good place to settle in, being so much closer a waddle from home, that is, Odette, than from Circleton. And who needed an education and a big debt when you could find a nice place to live one’s life? But that night a riot broke out at the jail, the guards were overwhelmed and all of the prisoners escaped into town. However, the town was a long way from anywhere, the pubs were open, and the prisoners all had their government allowances for the fortnight. And counter meals are always good value. The prisoners ate and drank happily till late that night. But then, as the pubs started to close, they found that there was not a lot to do in Jewny at night. Slowly but almost contentedly, the inmates meandered back to the jail.

The mayor was not impressed by this latter event. Next morning, he stormed into the jail office and demanded to meet with the prison manager (PM).

Well, Mr Mayor, apologised the PM, we had to ration the prawn cutlets because of the price hike, the Malaysian prawn virus you know. The men just got upset and rioted.

I am not concerned about that! retorted the mayor. The prisoners were a boon to business in town. Why did you let them back in? The motels and B&Bs could have benefited from their business too, there’s a lot of federal dollars in those allowances.

Ah, well, Mr Mayor, what are you suggesting? Another riot?

Well, perhaps not a riot, perhaps just a security leak like the military has, due to federal policies, of course. And then keep the prisoners out overnight.

A radical plan, Mr Mayor. But don’t you think that this could damage our contract with the federal government?

I am the mayor of this town, asserted Les, I will stand by your controlled security leak and the release of funds into the local economy.

And so it was that on Tuesdays at lunchtime, the prisoners were outraged by the skimpy servings of seafood in their seafood baskets, rioted, went into town, ate and drank till late, and then slept in the comfort of motel and hotel beds. Former-politician prisoners of course stayed in B&Bs because of their higher sponsored allowances. But as the weeks went by some prisoners started to realise that this night per week in town was costing them a lot of their allowance. And the price of lollies seemed to be increasing. Perhaps they should just eat and drink and then go back to jail to sleep. After a meeting in the Jewny mall, the prisoners decided to return to jail after dinner.

The mayor was outraged. He stormed into the jail office and demanded to meet with the PM.

But what do we do, Les? asked the PM as they shared a red. The relationship was not so chilly now, after all they were going through together.

Lock them out of course, Malcolm.

What?

Lock them out. Force them to stay in town overnight.

A radical plan, Les, but don’t you think that this will get us into strife with our federal government contract?

I am the mayor of this town. I will…ah, who is the contract manager, Malcolm? I might have a chat with him. Got to look after the local economy, you know.

And so it was that the next Tuesday night, the prisoners could not get back into the jail. It was locked.