A History of Ancient Britain

by Neil Oliver

A person might be forgiven for thinking that if we were a plant we would be some sort of smothering ivy, crawling across the face of the planet until our tendrils threatened to throttle the very life out of the place.

Just as the fingers of an old man’s hands at rest still curl inwards in memory of the time they spent balled into fists inside his mother’s womb, so our hands receive handaxes from half a million years ago as though those tools were made to fill the space left empty by all the years.

The notion of communion with a loved one, by eating of his body and drinking of his blood, may be much, much older than 2,000 years.

See also "Alive", about the Andes plane crash