Why I hate monkeys

It’s snowing! Summer is my favourite season, but snow is my favourite type of weather. So I’m very excited to look out of my window and see this!

Anyway. This is a totally random thing to blog about but I kind of want to know if anyone else has the same bizarre phobia/ intense dislike of monkeys that I do!

I’ve hated monkeys for as long as I can remember. I remember visiting the zoo at a young age, and when everyone else was fascinated by the vast amount of monkeys, I was more interested in the zebras, penguins and giraffes. I’m kind of against zoos nowadays – I believe if we want to see animals we should go to them, not keep them caged their entire lives against their will. I do appreciate the conservation work many zoos do though, and I know if it weren’t for zoos, there would be a lot more species becoming extinct.

I digress. Monkeys. Horrible shrieking, almost-human but not, hairy, swinging monsters.

I don’t just dislike monkeys, I am afraid of them. I’m afraid of how human they seem at times, but then they are disgusting and do horrible things that no human would do. I’m even more afraid since my other half made me watch Planet of the Apes. I enjoyed it but still the terror that one day the monkeys will take over haunts me. They are stronger than humans, faster and just scarier…

Also, what exactly is their point? We all know that the human race evolved from monkeys. Well why are the monkeys still here? Why haven’t they died out as the species developed? If a new version of something evolves, isn’t the old version meant to adapt through the generations until it’s changed? Survival of the fittest? Natural selection? I’m no scientist but it’s suspicious that humans are here but so are their weird hairy ancestors.

Only once has a monkey (or group of monkeys) done anything to offend or upset me. When I spent some time in Sri Lanka as part of a school partnership a couple of years ago, I tried mangos for the first time. My Sri Lankan counterpart in the partner school grew them at his house, and on the last day of my stay, he promised that the next morning we would pick some mangoes for me to take home with me. I didn’t sleep a wink that night, because the monkeys were making such a terrifying noise outside the house. When we woke up the next morning, all of the mangoes were gone. I think they knew about my fear and decided that they would punish me by stealing the delicious mangoes… but then again the more logical part of me suggests that the mangoes belong just as much to the monkeys as to my friends in Sri Lanka!

I’m not really sure where this rambling blog is going, so I think I’ll cut it short there. Just watch out if you go anywhere near a monkey. They know what you’re thinking. Probably.


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