am I really the crab?

there’s a thing in evolutionary biology called carcinisation, which is this phenomenon where a bunch of species have, over time, evolved into crabs.

for these species, that’s the end of the evolution. there’s no… next.

no matter how great or how powerful or how pathetic that species was, it eventually became a crab.

according to carcinisation, everything—in the end—becomes a crab.

I am at this point in my life where a lot of my friends are having kids or have kids or are planning to have kids. my wife and I don’t have kids, we don’t want kids, and we don’t plan on wanting kids.

but there is this moment, usually after hanging out with my cousin’s kids or my friend’s kid, when I’ll think about fatherhood.

a few weeks ago, one of my best friends and I went backpacking in the Holy Cross Wilderness up in Colorado. during the trip, my buddy would show me photos of his kid all the time and say stuff like “he’s a great kid” a lot. my friend looked so tired—but damn. he looked happy.

nature is my son.

I am drawn to the idea of fatherhood, but… it’s a long life to get right.

I’m convinced that there’s a progression that happens in fatherhood, all part of this convergent, ancestral evolution from father to son to father to son (and so on and so forth).

except, at some point, that evolution stops. at some point, a son doesn’t become a father and thus ends the evolution.

and it is at these moments when I wonder—

am I really the crab?