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I was hardly aware of the dizzying heights at which my tiny body was being looped and dipped roughly through the Sumatran treetops, just in the season of the monsoons. I was wrapped in red fur, totally protected by huge ape muscles, while moments earlier I had been poised at the tiny village podium preparing to give my Why I should be the Baby Palm Oil King speech when an orangutan with a savage demeanor rocketed out of nowhere and snatched me into the blowing and dark jungle. I was already three months old but had never had an experience such as this. I was particularly annoyed that the banana leaves on which my speech had been written now littered the ground of the parade route and this meant I surely would not be paid. I needed those Rupiahs because cloth diapers were not cheap in any of the regencies of the realm. It becomes had to imagine that since that early time I have been swimming with box jellyfish, flying with vampire bats, educated in seventeen countries, married fifteen times without a single divorce, and knighted by the Queen of Lashta. My experiences throughout the world have been the stuff of legends and most of my twelve months on Mars were enriching - within a there-is-nothing-but-dirt-everywhere frame of reference. I was summoned by the Ruler of the Undersea Kingdom to write a book that would explain people to themselves so after literally MINUTES of research, STUPID PEOPLE was born. It is my most pelagic hope that many of you will begin to finally perceive the abyss of emptiness that is your body of thought and that you will smilingly nod and blink your way to the very end of the final sentence and somehow realize that it is perhaps about you I am writing. Please do not buy products containing unsustainable palm oil. Orangutans need a place to live just like you do. And at least they have the decency to poop outdoors.
