He Was In His Zone

Clinton, Maryland

Mom murders son.

Reading and viewing material here, here and here.

Easy caper.  She interrupted him at a point when he was mentally intensely involved in his game, he retorted with some choice words, which offended her, and she took offense through hot lead.

I think it’s time for Uncle Blogmeister to sit the world down on his lap and explain a thing or three.

The evolutionary imperative of crucial sex differences in modern humans is a function of the fact that our ancestors of many hundreds of generations ago had a neat division of labor.  Women stayed behind at the camps and caves, tended to the children, gathered plants and berries, and kept an eye on things.  Men went out to hunt big game and fought other men from other tribes.  Because of the reproductive and population bottleneck of fertile women, it made a lot of sense to source the high danger high risk hunting and warfare duties to men.  The created evolutionary pressure on the brains of men and women in different ways — Women to multitasking, men to mission-obsessive single focus.  A woman who couldn’t juggle multiple balls and keep them in the air wouldn’t be a good woman, women who could were more sexually attractive to men, women who couldn’t weren’t, so the mental propensity to multitasking got passed on and enhanced in women.  Men needed to zone in on catching the big game or beating back the enemy, otherwise disaster.  Men whose brains zoned in were better at hunting and warfare, those whose brains didn’t weren’t any good at it, and project to the primitive sex and dating market of our distant ancestors.

Fast forward to the present day.

We have found out, through the miracle of modern science and medicine, that the brains of women fire synapses between hemispheres, while the brains of men fire synapses rapidly but mainly within one hemisphere or the other, owning to the multitask versus mission evolutionary pressure.  The difference is that we have our brains built on the evolutionary imperative of our hunter-gatherer days, but we’re far from that world.  So, what do we do?  We build modern edifices and institutions so that we can act out our sex-stereotypical brains to simulate our purposes of the distant past.  For women, we build shopping malls where she can do her modern day plant and berry gathering.  (Realize that every mall always has a plentiful selection of women’s shoes.)  For men, we build golf courses, sports complexes and video games, so we can simulate hunting and warfare.  The golfing foursome is the modern hunting expedition for middle aged men; note that hole scores refer to either birds in general (“birdie”) or specific bird species (eagle, condor, albatross).  Sports, both individual and team, are sublimated warfare.  Clausewitz once wrote that war is politics by any other means, and the converse is also true, that politics is bloodless warfare.  Which explains why capitals and halls of government are full of men.  Video games, depending on the game, can either be simulated hunting (Super Mario Brothers), simulated warfare (Call of Duty), or simulated sublimated warfare (sports games).  Don’t think SMB was a hunting simulator?  What do you think the King Koopa at the end of Level 8 was, other than the really big animal that you kill to feed the women and children back at the caves for a few days?

Furthermore, this relates to the psychological concept of flow, sometimes called “being in the zone.”  You can probably figure out by now that it’s almost entirely a man’s thing, and why it is.

Let’s circle this back around to our Clinton, Maryland murder victim.  The young late Mr. Perry was zoned out on his simulated hunting and/or warfare mission, and his mother barged in and busted his flow.  Of course he was going to react in anger, because she just cost him his mission success, meaning that the women and children either starve or become enslaved or worse, and she, being a coddled over-entitled strong black woman, a black queen, wasn’t going to take kindly to it.  Not “Annie get your gun,” but “L’Booshondraniqua get your gun.”

Ladies, here’s a wooden nickel’s worth of free advice — Even if what your son is locked in on doing seems trivial or childish, let him go.  All he’s doing is trying to make his great-great-great-……-great-great-great-……-great-great-grandfather proud.