Who is us?
Us is the critter who hopes. As well as I can tell, a frog doesn't hope, a lion doesn't. I can't hold my breath long enough, but I think a whale doesn't hope. As well as I can tell, a redwood doesn't care. A rock doesn't, at least not until it's carved into the image of a man or a woman and declared holy. Then, apparently, the rock cares and may hope. So in my world, us has hope to ourselves exclusively. And us uses it well. Us do things we know are stupid, wicked, or evil, and us hopes for good consequences. Us hopes for good weather. Especially if us has sacrificed to a rock. Us hopes for a marriage without strife of bad times. Us hopes the rich won't ride too roughshod over us, and sometimes they don't. Us hopes for wars without casualties. Some of us even hope we'll give up wars. No wonder us designates ourselves homo sapiens.
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