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People who live in caves aren't crazy, but they can become insular, then there is every chance of insanity.
The beauty of living in caves is that your home is millions of years old, its warm in winter, and cool in summer.
Location is everything, if you're on the high tide mark, bad location. But it could be in sight of the sea; it should get all day sun and be sheltered from the wind.
Its always handy if you don't need to go far for a drink of water. Having a regular source of food available or being able to trade with others nearby is in the plus category also.
But if there are other caves nearby with more people living in them then all is rosy.
Family and friends no doubt, a cute stranger comes to visit. Premium location.
And if ten sleeps up the track is another group of caves with a whole heap of cute strangers, and ten sleeps more, well you almost have a country.
The down side to all of this troglodyte bliss is when the track between all the groups of caves wears out and decisions need to be made about who pays to fix it and where abouts on the track you start.
Everyone sits around a big campfire and discusses the pros and cons, but quickly groups form, opinion here, opinion there.
Now we can't all sit around the campfire everyday, because someone has to catch the food for all the rest, so speakers are elected for each group and the rest get on with cave life.
Because there are now so many caves being dug, the food has to be collected from further a field, the track is getting worse and the food draggers are in grave danger every time they go dragging food.
The speakers of the different groups are still talking about fixing it, but costs are rising and every one wants their bit of track fixed first. The bullies who speak loudest get their own way and so a tax is placed on the food draggers, after all they destroy the track in the first place. Why shouldn't they pay?
The speakers are now so important they feel they should receive more, and so they further increase the tax to cover other short falls.
The food draggers now drag food day and night to pay the tax; little food draggers never see the food dragger because they are always away dragging. With no one to guide them in the ways of the cave, the little ones get bored, stop listening to the few guiders left behind to guide them and get into trouble. Anarchy rains and so the speakers employ some catchers and holders to detain the little ones and pay them wages from the tax. One day the food draggers have had enough and rise up and throw the speakers out of the speaking cave to go and drag their own food.
So the moral of this story is, if you are a speaker and don't like that idea, don't become insular in your speaking cave and fix the damn track.
But then that's just an "old food draggers point of view"
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