In the Solomon Islands in the South Pacific, some locals practiced a unique form of logging. If a tree is too large to cut down with an ax, the natives do fall loudly. Lumberjacks with special powers to climb a tree exactly at dawn and suddenly shout with all the strength of his lungs. They do this for thirty days. The tree dies and collapses. The theory is that the shouting kill the spirit of the tree. According to locals, it gives always the result.
– Oh, those poor naive innocents! What strange and charming habits of the jungle! yell at trees, go thing. How primitive! Too bad they do not have the advantages of modern technology and the scientific mind.
– And me? I yell at my wife. And I shout to your phone and a lawn mower. And I scream at the TV and the newspaper and my children. Even it said to have shaken his fist and I shouted to the sky sometimes.
– The man next door yells at his car a lot. And this summer I heard him yell at a stepladder for most of an A late. We, the educated, urban and modern people, we shouted to traffic and umpires and bills and banks … and machines, especially machines. Machines and relatives most of the screaming lead.
– I do not know what’s good about it. Machines and things are still in place. Even kicking them sometimes served at all. As for people, well, the Solomon Islanders may score a point. Shout at living things can die the spirit in them. Sticks and stones may break our bones, but words will break our hearts.
