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The New Zealand Railways Magazine, Volume 5, Issue 9 (April 1, 1931)

Ego and Echo

Ego and Echo.

Man's ego has hypnotised him into the belief that he has got the nips on Nature and the “scissors” on Science. Science, however, is an invisible elephant in a phantom zoo, or a mass of matter that Man doesn't know he doesn't know until he knows that he doesn't know; Nature made Man, after all, although some claim to be self-made, in defiance of Nature's laws, so that it is not fair to blame Nature for them.

Still, if Man has the will to believe that he is greater than he is, he might in time become nearly as great as he isn't—which is about twice as great as he is ever likely to be. Nevertheless, he considers that he is never the less, and moreover, he probably is more over than under.

But it is unfair to beat up Man's ego, for it is his chief means of self-defiance; without ego he is a mere echo. In fact, he echos his own echo with such ecstasy that his noise annoys him. Compared with a chameleon Man is a marvel—but he can't catch flies with his tongue, although he can change colour almost at will. He can go to the dogs, but he can't scratch his ribs with his foot. He gets hoarse with nagging, but he can't gallop fore and aft simultaneously. He gets the hump, but he can't live without water unless he books his beer or owns an uncle in a brewery. In fact the animal kingdom has got it on him in more neighs than one. For instance:—

The armour-plated crocodile,
Who warms his warts beside the Nile,
Although deficient in the pan,
In many matters loses Man;
For though he's slightly brusque in style,
He's just an honest crocodile.
The mobile-muscled chimpanzee,
Who pays no rent or other fee,
Is undisposed to groan and grump,

page 53
“No man is what he thinks he is.”

“No man is what he thinks he is.”

Because he knows a chimp's a chump,
Although the gnu is somewhat old,
And lives in regions bleak and cold,
He never pines for deeds to do,
He's quite content to be a gnu.
The pig wastes little time in tears,
And doesn't wash behind the ears,
He doesn't waste his time in talk,
Or fret about the price of pork.
The tough but simple-souled baboon,
Who eats his soup without a spoon,
And picks his teeth with trunks of trees,
Compared with Man is steeped in ease.
The walrus and the pelican,
Who each gives proof how well he can
Subsist on fish—it's all they eat—
For happiness are hard to beat.
The kangaroo and Irish reel,
The green elastic-sided eel,
The worm, the wasp, the tittlebat,
The flying-fish and pink-eyed sprat,
The coot, the cow, the sandy blight,
The zither and theodolite,
The barnacle and bandicoot,
The whiskered wop and green cheroot,
The bathroom plug and saveloy,
The soulful sax and breeches-buoy,
The billycan and billy-goat,
The fly, the flea, the ten-bob-note,
In fact, although they never boast,
They've each and all got man on toast,
For every feathered fowl or beast,
Is happy in the fact at least,
That even if it's short on wit,
Its Ego doesn't worry it,
For Nature has a better cloak
For camouflaging forest folk,
And unlike Man they haven't got
To pose as something that they're not.