Reading Journal, The Well-Dressed Ape, Chapter 1 Quotes

A fit male is about 15 percent fat, while a female, on whom offspring depend for nourishment, is 23 percent. I carry even more that that because . . . because cookies are too damned easy to capture.
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Although humans have proven to be prodigious feasters, the fasting part we just can’t master.
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This pains me, but I’ll just come out and say it: The energy-storage tissue on my leg is dimpled. Probably for most of human history, and definitely in Renaissance Europe, this was considered a great asset. That was then.
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And primates seem driven to damage one other appendage, as well. Time and again, biologists have noticed that scrapping males, if they get a chance, will slash at an enemy’s testicles. I suppose it’s a sound evolutionary strategy. If you can’t kill a rival, you might at least eliminate him from the pool of males competing with you for breeding opportunities.
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In skeletal form, it appears horribly uncomfortable, as though the knee would be pounded to paste in a couple of miles. But the entire human body has been remodeled to make the most of this joint. From head to toe, I’m built to run, with the knee forming a hinge that allows my leg to swing forward for the next stride. . . .

Only a few animals enjoy membership in the distance-runners’ club. They are the horse, wolves (and domestic dogs), African hunting dogs, the hyena, the migrating wildebeest, and we Homo sapiens. . . . And when biologists compare humans to other distance runners, we travel at the front of the pack. . . .

The Bushmen of the Kalahari still hunt antelope that way. For hours they’ll chase the animal, preventing it from resting or cooling off. Antelope, and most other animals, will tire before we will.
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Humans so frequently alter their bodies that a physical description of one must incorporate decoration. You would be hard-pressed to spot a human in the field who is unadorned by toe paint, earlobe stretchers, metal hoops at the finger, neck, arm, or leg, a bone through the nose, a gourd on the penis, bleach in the hair, dung in the hair, studs in the tongue, henna on the fingers, feathers on the ankles, or “Mom” on the biceps.
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And as they do the world around, my cosmetics also advertise my tribal affiliation.
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Fur style is serious business for a human.