It's December 1834 and here's Charles Darwin being tremendously politically incorrect: These poor wretches were stunted in their growth, their hideous faces bedaubed with white paint, their skins filthy and greasy, their hair entangled, their voices discordant, and their gestures violent. Viewing such men, one can hardly make one self believe that they are fellow-creatures, and inhabitants of the same world. It is a common subject of conjecture what pleasure in life some of the lower animals can enjoy: how much more reasonably the same question may be asked with respect to these barbarians! And Darwin was one of the most enlightened men of his time.
Which makes me wonder what those a century or so hence (assuming our species survives that long) will make of us and our blind spots - possibly our complete blindness.
It would be interesting to re-write the above encounter - Darwin and his companions heading to the shore of Wollaston Island, pulling alongside a canoe filled with six Fuegians - from the perspective of those from the Land of Fires.
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