A Prologue

The following is taken from the prologue of Alexander Heath Yeamen's "Discovering Discovery for the First Time: A Journey through the Pallawanee Rain Forest"....



186 days. 10 degrees fahrenheit below at night. 108 degrees fahrenheit at day. You do the math.

The contents of this book are the contents of my lack of contentment. Contentmentless, I ventured away from the city to the forest, away from the chaos of the sirens, gunshots, and advertisements to the chaos of animals devouring each other and no working toilets. I abandoned my post at Lunar Jack's Snack Shop to take up the post of picking berries, trapping and bar-b-que'ing squirrels, and not shaving. I didn't shave for 186 days straight. I didn't bathe once. I didn't brush my teeth. Not so much as a mint, an altoid, a mentos, or an altoidos. And I didn't even watch television once. It was rugged. raw. real. ridiculous.

In the city, I was anonymous. In the forest, I was king. In the city, I was a robot - churning the cranks and rods and spurnets of the Machine. In the forest, I was free. In the city, I had air-conditioning. In the forest, I didn't. Just the clothes on my back. And a canteen. And some toilet paper. And a few altoids (ok, so I lied up there).

The Rain Forest served as a Metaphor for me. It provided the insight (and the outsight, mind you) that the city obscured. I was removed from the clutter of traffic, schedules, and rent payments. I entered the jungle of mosquitos, large growling things at night, and sunburns. (I didn't shave once.) The Metaphor of the Forest was that I had abandoned my former life to discover my inner life - that at my core, deep down in my soul, beneath the hair, skin, fingernails, and hair, I was destined and designed for refrigeration. And air-conditioning. And microwaves. And clean, hygienic razors for my facial stubble. That is what I discovered. I realized that I am Man, not savage. I am Man, not walrus. I am Man, not tree bark. And as Man - I have needs. Needs that the Forest could not meet. Needs like Hot Pockets. And hamburgers. And chimichangas. And clean, hygienic razors for my stubble (I didn't even shave once.)

This is my journey. My song. My discovery of discovery.