Is it genetics, part of our evolution as the human species, that we have the horrible
tendency to live in places that any logic would tell us are unacceptable? We build our cities and towns, thriving ports of human activity, in locations that routinely kick our asses. And we keep building and rebuilding after every kick. Why is that?
I've wonder this for years. We build on top of caves, fault lines, mountain sides, tornado prone plains and hurricane prone coasts. I know that to not build in these places would be to turn our backs on places that are highly habitable in most times. It is the times that are not so favorable that put me in this pensive mode. I am not in the safest place, being as near to the New Madrid fault as I am, but I don't worry as much as I probably should about an earthquake. Not as much as I would if were west of the Rockies at least. I am far enough from the Mississippi that flooding from it is not a serious threat, though local springs, streams and creeks do present the occasional over the banks problem.
What continues to draw us to places that are so obviously not the safest port in a storm? Why are we drawn to the coasts when we KNOW that hurricanes haunt them annually? Why are we drawn to the plains when we know that tornadoes can and will rip through at any given time? Why build massive cities on top of a cave system that is so vastly unexplored and stretches from Tennessee to Canada?
Is it a primordial instinct that we possess somewhere deep in our largely unused brains that demands, even in these times of plenty (compared to our cave-dwelling ancestors), that we settle ourselves somewhere that we will be able to scavenge food stuffs should we return to the not so plentiful times (ie major time TEOTWAWKI)?
I told you I was feeling pensive tonight.
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