In addition to what used to be called the "baser" instincts that we share with animals (food, sex, security, etc.), humans want and create two things so badly and so pervasively that we generally forget about them—except when they’re missing—just as fish don’t spend much time thinking about water:
    1. Herds.
    2. Stories.

1. Herds.
Thinking Is Such a Burdensome Activity
Sure, anthropologists and sociologists have long talked about "the herd instinct" in humans but who pays attention to anthropologists and sociologists?

Any extraterrestrial visitor would surely be amazed at how widespread, deep, and unthinking (read: animal-like) our herd behavior is.

Even humans, such as for example Americans, who pride themselves on what they (and their advertisers) think of as "rugged individualism" are at bottom pretty much as prone to herd behavior as humans who pride themselves on their "communal" or "family" spirit, such as East Asians.

Example:
I step outside and, no matter how temperate the climate, I’m fully clothed. Even at the beach I herd-like cover certain parts of my body that we’ve all agreed, without ever really talking about it, need covering.

Example:
I delight in being part of large crowds who believe what I believe (no thinking allowed!) or enjoy what I enjoy (not thinking necessary!), hence political rallies and conventions, mega-churches, papal blessings, football games.

Example:
How I love to be among those who share my skin color, my language, my accent. And often, how I love to disparage those who don’t.

Example:
How I love to march lockstep and in large uniformed formations, especially if I’m a man, with those who share my goals.

Example:
If I’m an American man, you may be sure that I remove my facial hair every morning. If I’m an American woman, you may be sure I removed my leg hair as frequently as necessary.

Example:
If I’m a member of certain religions or an inhabitant of certain countries, how I love to mutilate my body or that of my offspring in the way of my group.

Example:
How I love to multiply my strength by joining with large majorities, and when necessary to punish those who are "different" and "weaker."

Ah. How sweet it is to BELONG and not to have to THINK!

2. Stories.
Thinking Is Such a Burdensome Activity, Part II
"Once upon a time…"

What surcease, what respite from care, what delight can follow those words!

When I’m not busy doing herd-stuff, when I’m just sitting, whether in large meetings of my herd or alone, stories help so much.

They keep my mind occupied (no thinking required), entertained, refreshed, and above all re-assured about the rightness of my beliefs and behaviors: the herd-instinct of the shared fantasy. These shared fantasies were originally oral, then with technological progress they became printed, and with further progress they became moving images.

Example:
"In the beginning…" Well, yes, all good stories start at the beginning (though some pretty good ones rather artfully start in the middle ("The wrath of Achilles is my theme…"). Of course, the best ones pretend to explain EVERYTHING ("For God so loved the world…").

Example:
"To boldly go where no man has gone before…" (Star Trek.)

Example:
"Call me Ishmael." (Moby-Dick.)

Example:
"Midway in our life's journey, I went astray from the straight road and woke to find myself alone in a dark wood." (The Divine Comedy.)

Example:
"It was the best of times, it was the worst of times…" (A Tale of Two Cities.)

Example:
"Last night I dreamt I went to Manderley again." (Rebecca.)

Example:
"As Gregor Samsa awoke one morning from uneasy dreams he found himself transformed in his bed into a gigantic insect." ("The Metamorphosis".)

Example:
"Once upon a time there were four little Rabbits, and their names were - Flopsy, Mopsy, Cotton-tail, and Peter." (The Tale of Peter Rabbit.)

Example:
"Mr. and Mrs. Dursley, of number four, Privet Drive, were proud to say that they were perfectly normal, thank you very much." (Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone.)

Example:
"When shall we three meet again
In thunder, lightning, or in rain?" (Macbeth.)

Amazing, isn’t it? If any of those famous opening narrative hooks have ever caught you, just quoting the line again can put you back into their world instantly and completely.

In herds we move, in stories we pause. Collectively, happily. Or should that be: "happily"?

3. Beyond Herds and Stories
Of course, herds can provide security, even, sometimes, when it’s needed ("Circle them wagons!"). And stories can not only distract but stimulate powerfully, dangerously even ("Remember the Alamo!").

Some clever herd members spin clever stories even while amid the herd, stories designed to stampede ("Workers of the world, unite!"). Other clever herd-members, at usually considerable risk, step away from the herd and spin really unusual clever stories (sometimes their very life away from the herd is the story ["I am the way, the truth, the light"]).

Mostly most of us, intent on food, shelter, sex, and survival, graze from day one to day zero, ambling along with the herd, pausing only now and then to chew either our private cud (memory!) or a public cud (once upon a time).

Is that enough?

Flocks of birds, schools of fish, forests of trees, armies of humans seem to say yes, that’s quite enough. Such herd behavior has got us this far, more or less intact.

Is that all?

If not, the barely-awake herd-member asks, then what more is there? What exists outside the herd except danger (alas, poor Yossarian, I knew him well), and what outside the stories except madness (alas, poor Hamlet, I knew him well)?

The question naturally contains its answer. It is a tautology. The story-addicted herd-member knows only story-addicted herd-behavior.

Herd is all. Let us all make the Sign of the T (Brave New World).

But.

The frightening, maddening, infinitely hopeful fact is that as long as there have been people, some have stepped outside the herd, and thrived.

Herd may be all, but life in it does tend to dull one’s wits. If anyone comes along ands says, "Try thinking THIS non-herd way," or "Try seeing THIS non-herd way," or (worst of all) "Try BEING this non-herd way," dulled wits respond, well, dully, and the herd pretty much continues on its slow, lowing, thunderous way to the precipice.

Because everybody knows herd is all, herd-way is all, and that’s that.

Adding to the problem is that the heretics either speak in seedly paradox (Lao-Tse) or in the cleverest of seedly ambiguities (Caravaggio), or both ("Nothing is what it seems, and what nothing seems is false"—Myra Breckinridge).

You can put sheeply messages on billboards beside the freeway, and lo, thousands, tens of thousands of sheep will respond, hoping by buying to become better sheep.

You can put non-sheeply messages (the Tao Te Ching, say) on billboards beside the freeway, and how many of the sheep will respond?

What to do, what to do?

Only connect (E.M. Forster)?

That’s pretty good, but applies really only to the sheep that’s already gone well astray.

Only cultivate your garden (Voltaire)?

That’s fine for sheep resigned to their herdly lot.

I’d say rather, here at the end:

Only seed.