Man is, indisputably and irrevocably, an animal, and no matter how much money he spends on college degrees, Brooks Brothers madras shorts and Michael Bolton CDs, he can never erase the traces of his primal, prehistoric, primordial past; within the heart of every "civilized" man resides a brute beast that grunts, snorts and farts into sofa cushions when the female leaves the room.
Beneath the thin veneer of civilization that coats every modern man there thus lies a vestigial being that can be understood only by exacting study of our--I'm out of words beginning with "pr"--ancestors. Hence these tales, which take a look that at primitives, both those who walk the earth today, slowing down the line at Starbucks as they try to grasp the concept of a "frappucino"--and those long extinct.
So read what has been writ here as do those who stand in awe before the cave paintings in Lascaux and ask yourself as they do--where are the restrooms and the gift shop?