Chimps - They're Just Like Us

The other night I watched an episode of a show called Explorer that airs on the National Geographic Channel. Well, calling it a show isn't very accurate. It's more like a random collection of sensationalistic documentaries with no relationship to each other whatsoever, unified under the Explorer umbrella for reasons that shall forever elude me. Episode titles range from "Mystery of the Disembodied Feet" to "Child Mummy Sacrifice."

The episode I happened to watch was called "Chimps on the Edge."

The first reason I am writing this post is to implore you all to watch this particular episode. In the age of snark and irony, we all grow weary of laughing at unintentional comedy. I understand. But trust me when I tell you that the opening sequence -- a dramatic recreation of the 911 call placed by Sandra Herold after her Xanax-taking, alcoholic chimp ripped off her friend's face -- is quite possibly the crown jewel of the unintentional comedy cannon. 100 years from now people will be talking about this opening sequence the same way they talk about the first 10 minutes of 2001: A Space Odyssey. It's that brilliant.

The second reason I am writing this post is to let you know that you should be cautious while watching Chimps on the Edge. If you don't want to learn new and frightening things about yourself, you should probably skip this one.

For instance, I found myself insanely jealous of the captive chimps that were set free in a wildlife reserve. As I watched frightened primates tentatively touch grass for the first time in their lives, all I could think about was how I wished that a higher being would round me up and throw me into a human paradise, exposing me to a world so perfect that I could scarcely imagine it.

So please, by all means, watch Chimps on the Edge, but make sure you're in a good head space when you do.