Peeling around the room, already late for work but requiring sustenance all the same, I grabbed a banana. To my horror I realized that the pull tab didn’t work. 
   I began to curse. #*@&^! It’s defective! Then I stopped. Defective? That sounds strange when applied to something that simply grows at random. The pull tab, something that people have nearly perfected on cans of sardines, oysters and Coke, comes quite naturally to the banana 
   It was then that I began to lament the absence of the banana in metaphysical discussions. Evolution, Buddha, God, Creation, the Big Bang, Chaos Theory; we label ourselves, we argue, we war. Meanwhile the banana sits modestly, holding the answer in its brilliant yellow skin.
   Bananus perfectus simply appears, complete with a handle, a a pull tab and a protective yet cheerful coating. Inside is tasty nutrient-rich mush—100% gorilla friendly and Jane Goodall approved. 
   Many have commented on the importance of the banana. Hell, it has even received credit for toppling governments, (with a little help from the CIA) and no one can deny its place in the gag hall of fame. But I’m going out on a limb here to suggest that the banana has yet to receive the attention it deserves. 
   Could such a perfect specimen have emerged from chaos. There has got to be some force, some pattern out there and the banana is our little yellow messiah. Somewhere in our psyches we know this and we worship. 
   In doubt? Hand a bunch of bananas to a group of kids or adults. They will undoubtedly peel off the Chiquita sticker and place it squarely in the middle of their foreheads.