It's contagious - Unplugged

Loki, the new neighborhood coffee shop, is packed, and buzzing, so I’m against a wall out front sitting on the ground. The sun shines warm on this December morning and although I’m happy to be in a t-shirt, the winter warmth is concerning.

Ten minutes ago a woman offered to buy me an Americano. I’m not sure why but it makes me feel like the sun’s rays. And a guy just propped his bike next to me, against the wall and complimented mine. He has half of a sandwich he’s not going to eat. ‘You want it man?’

I tamper my exuberance and tell him ‘sure.’

I finished the sandwich and am sipping Americano. Robert Sapolsky, author of Behave, is writing about the innate goodness of humanity. He tells me about the origins of homo sapiens and just fed me this fire-ass line:

There were no freezers or preservatives so for 185,000 of our 200,000-year history ‘our best investment against future hunger was to put meat in other people’s stomachs, now.’

He says it’s called indirect reciprocity and was ubiquitous amongst all successful hunter-gatherer tribes. It’s integral for group cohesion, trust, and collaboration he continues. Absolutely necessary for survival, it goes like this:

If Hunter-John has the good fortune of harvesting meat one season and decides to share with Hunter-Jane, then Jane helps Monica who helps Javier, ad infinitum until the loop is closed next season when Hunter-John and his family aren’t as fortunate.

In modern terms, we might call this kindness. And for evolutionary reasons, I guess, it’s contagious.

***

In case you’ve been under a rock, the human below is one of the kindest out there. And her food is fucked-up good. Thank you, Dani. We’re not sure what we’d do without you.

Much love.

Loki, the new neighborhood coffee shop, is packed, and buzzing, so I’m against a wall out front sitting on the ground. The sun shines warm on this December morning and although I’m happy to be in a t-shirt, the winter warmth is concerning.

Ten minutes ago a woman offered to buy me an Americano. I’m not sure why but it makes me feel like the sun’s rays. And a guy just propped his bike next to me, against the wall and complimented mine. He has half of a sandwich he’s not going to eat. ‘You want it man?’

I tamper my exuberance and tell him ‘sure.’

I finished the sandwich and am sipping Americano. Robert Sapolsky, author of Behave, is writing about the innate goodness of humanity. He tells me about the origins of homo sapiens and just fed me this fire-ass line:

There were no freezers or preservatives so for 185,000 of our 200,000-year history ‘our best investment against future hunger was to put meat in other people’s stomachs, now.’

He says it’s called indirect reciprocity and was ubiquitous amongst all successful hunter-gatherer tribes. It’s integral for group cohesion, trust, and collaboration he continues. Absolutely necessary for survival, it goes like this:

If Hunter-John has the good fortune of harvesting meat one season and decides to share with Hunter-Jane, then Jane helps Monica who helps Javier, ad infinitum until the loop is closed next season when Hunter-John and his family aren’t as fortunate.

In modern terms, we might call this kindness. And for evolutionary reasons, I guess, it’s contagious.

***

In case you’ve been under a rock, the human below is one of the kindest out there. And her food is fucked-up good. Thank you, Dani. We’re not sure what we’d do without you.

Much love.

Loki, the new neighborhood coffee shop, is packed, and buzzing, so I’m against a wall out front sitting on the ground. The sun shines warm on this December morning and although I’m happy to be in a t-shirt, the winter warmth is concerning.

Ten minutes ago a woman offered to buy me an Americano. I’m not sure why but it makes me feel like the sun’s rays. And a guy just propped his bike next to me, against the wall and complimented mine. He has half of a sandwich he’s not going to eat. ‘You want it man?’

I tamper my exuberance and tell him ‘sure.’

I finished the sandwich and am sipping Americano. Robert Sapolsky, author of Behave, is writing about the innate goodness of humanity. He tells me about the origins of homo sapiens and just fed me this fire-ass line:

There were no freezers or preservatives so for 185,000 of our 200,000-year history ‘our best investment against future hunger was to put meat in other people’s stomachs, now.’

He says it’s called indirect reciprocity and was ubiquitous amongst all successful hunter-gatherer tribes. It’s integral for group cohesion, trust, and collaboration he continues. Absolutely necessary for survival, it goes like this:

If Hunter-John has the good fortune of harvesting meat one season and decides to share with Hunter-Jane, then Jane helps Monica who helps Javier, ad infinitum until the loop is closed next season when Hunter-John and his family aren’t as fortunate.

In modern terms, we might call this kindness. And for evolutionary reasons, I guess, it’s contagious.

***

In case you’ve been under a rock, the human below is one of the kindest out there. And her food is fucked-up good. Thank you, Dani. We’re not sure what we’d do without you.

Much love.

Loki, the new neighborhood coffee shop, is packed, and buzzing, so I’m against a wall out front sitting on the ground. The sun shines warm on this December morning and although I’m happy to be in a t-shirt, the winter warmth is concerning.

Ten minutes ago a woman offered to buy me an Americano. I’m not sure why but it makes me feel like the sun’s rays. And a guy just propped his bike next to me, against the wall and complimented mine. He has half of a sandwich he’s not going to eat. ‘You want it man?’

I tamper my exuberance and tell him ‘sure.’

I finished the sandwich and am sipping Americano. Robert Sapolsky, author of Behave, is writing about the innate goodness of humanity. He tells me about the origins of homo sapiens and just fed me this fire-ass line:

There were no freezers or preservatives so for 185,000 of our 200,000-year history ‘our best investment against future hunger was to put meat in other people’s stomachs, now.’

He says it’s called indirect reciprocity and was ubiquitous amongst all successful hunter-gatherer tribes. It’s integral for group cohesion, trust, and collaboration he continues. Absolutely necessary for survival, it goes like this:

If Hunter-John has the good fortune of harvesting meat one season and decides to share with Hunter-Jane, then Jane helps Monica who helps Javier, ad infinitum until the loop is closed next season when Hunter-John and his family aren’t as fortunate.

In modern terms, we might call this kindness. And for evolutionary reasons, I guess, it’s contagious.

***

In case you’ve been under a rock, the human below is one of the kindest out there. And her food is fucked-up good. Thank you, Dani. We’re not sure what we’d do without you.

Much love.