As a matter of fact, and to be more precise, it is incorrect to call ourselves "human". We are the intermediate form, neither bird nor fish, blindly seeking to unfold a vision into reality.
To put it a different way: through our actions, or lack of same we define our common humanity. This has been going on for some decades of millennia. But now we rapidly approach a cusp where we will win the prize -- or not... "
[That was Ichabod Rain's comment to his song "What a Monkey Can Do!", the final verse of which is given below. Even with my access to the 21st Edition of the Absolute Truth, it is is hard to understand how he was able to avoid incarceration, or worse]
A monkey with fleas will scratch where it itch!
The Prince of this World is a son of a bitch,
Who's taking this Earth and destroying it!
All verses will rhyme when he's thrown in the ditch!
Walking down the avenue, two by two,
If you think of me, I'll be thinking of you!
But Lord only knows what a monkey can do!