After watching the new "King Kong" last night, I thought I might have Giant Bug dreams or something equal to that, but I didn't. I'm sort of glad.

There are some MEMORABLE moments with Big Bugs, Big Fish, Big Reptiles, Big Slugs, Big THINGS. They would've BLOWN MY LITTLE MIND when I was a kid. Even for as crude as most special effects were a half century ago, some spooked me. I would've loved-hated to see THIS stuff at age 6! YIKES!!! Aside from great visuals, this latest Kong has Heart. It's why I revisit the 1933 version. Heart. A Story is and will remain a Story, and nothing less. It either offers a connection to its audience, or it doesn't.

The main reason "Modern" art was or is so difficult for the uninitiated is that, for the most part, it stopped creating The Story. You can see it coming as much as 150 years ago. Each step shocked and dismayed traditional art lovers and the status quo. THIS new "art" (WAS it art??) sat there and refused to tell you a story.

Picture this: You are all gathered around the tribe campfire. This is the night each week that the Great Story Teller comes to join you all... He sits down, and you await the next Tale. It's a tradition you have never even considered doing without... these Stories. You have never noticed much about the Story Teller personally. It's dark out, and you're there for the STORY, not the Teller. It's TRA-DI-TION!!

Then, instead of a story, the Great Story Teller sits down, remains silent, and, without a warning, looks off into the distance as though you weren't there, and does not utter a word all night long. You look around, wondering what it is you're supposed to see off in the darkness, but no one has prepared you for this. Some of you stay all night, watching the Teller... most leave before sunrise, but all leave out of confusion, frustration, and disappointment.

The next week, The Teller arrives, remains silent, and everyone harasses him, trying to get an answer for this great insult to the tribe. He does not respond. Most people get up and walk away sooner than that last "debacle".

The next week, The Teller arrives, sits, stares, says nothing, but this time the tribe discusses what he might be doing. "He's mad." "No, he has a Plan. We must wait." "He's insulting us." "Was he wearing that head dress last time?"

The next week he arrives, sits, and stares in silence. Since he won't respond, some people begin redefining why they've come: To chat with the others, try their hand at telling stories, and generally not give a long look to the Teller. The Teller is becoming Vague for the tribe. They used to think they knew him, but now... now he's not just different... he pulled out of the tradition altogether... right? I mean, what's the POINT anymore? There IS NONE, right? Someone said "I think he changed his head dress a little from last week."

Over the weeks, the camp fire is lit, and Saturday nights are still the center of intellectual and social exchange. The Teller still shows up, some people are getting better at telling stories in their own way, and have adopted some of the old Teller's style to add continuity & comfort to their new attempts. Others are bored with these new Story Teller attempts. Instead, they pass the time in a more private way - looking at the fire, thinking, listening closer to the sounds of the group and the Growlers out there in the Darkness, and a few - a few - have begun looking forward to the Teller's subtle changes in his head dress. He seems to be exploring, or, well, it's no longer a story, but he's experimenting with himself or materials back at the hut which are added, moved, altered, or removed from his outfit for the following week. Maybe. "He changed the color of his shoelaces," said someone. "I noticed that too," said someone else, "but... I liked the green ones best." "Huh?" someone else asked. The other two moved nearer one another other.

The next week, those two arrive with shoe laces made out of snake skin. The entire group noticed and spent time debating the innovation's value and beauty.

Months pass. Just about everyone is showing up in clothing alterations they've created over the week. Some people dyed their shoe laces green and left it at that, but most have become fascinated with what each of the tribe does to his/her appearance. The camp fire burns twice as long since everyone wants to give and get opinions in this new, vital phase of the tribe's Saturday Night. The Stories are becoming a Thing of Our Past. They want more exchange, not just delivery.

Years pass. A group of Anthropologists arrive on a Saturday night. They find a tribe seated around the fire, dressed in the most elaborate, intense, colorful, textural, and least functional garb they've ever witnessed...and, no one is speaking a word. They're simply looking at each other with a studious joy and deep curiosity that has never been witnessed in the history of Tribes.

Now back to stories.

Stories either offer a connection, or they don't. I DO NOT mean pandering, tear-jerk soapers which have no other goal. But let's face it - we, as Humans, can only understand the world from a human position, and we respond to those things that offer value to humans:

Stimulation.

Information.

Advice.

Membership.

Relief.

Exploration.

Survival.

Are some things more difficult to understand than others? Of course. Does that mean they are more valuable? No. Does it mean humans require a lot? Yes. We are the creatures of Thought, Dream, Senses, and Emotions. We have goals, lusts, preferences, and fears. One form of the world is not enough.

Now back to the Anthropologists:

They stayed to study the tribe until the following Saturday morning. They saw what they saw, they left before the upcoming Saturday night gathering, and began writing their research papers on the boat home. What they didn't see was that THIS Saturday was "Every Other Saturday Story Teller Night".