Due to human manipulation over the last 10,000 years, bananas are losing their ability to both reproduce and defend themselves from disease. This fruit - a staple of the human diet for millennia - is expected to become extinct within the next 10 years. And, what a hole it will leave in human experience and culture!
Will future generations look at old movies and cartoons and have to ask themselves, "What are those yellow things people keep slipping on?" Will it be necessary to tell them that, no, there wasn't really a time when every major street was littered with the fruit's peels, or that they weren't really as slippery as depicted? Will we have to explain that banana peels weren't the health hazard they might seem to be from such images, that banana peels were just...funny?
Let us not underestimate the blow to classical comedy the coming extinction of bananas will have. What other fruit's peel could possibly take its place? The pared rind of an apple? Approach one on the street and you're more likely to see lowering standards of civic pride than the potential for a harmless jape. Watermelon? You'd have to be blind not to see its rind on the street, and it's not nice to make fun of the visually impaired. Pineapple? That's just cruel.
That's not all. Who among us hasn't giggled at the phallic implications of a banana and two apples? Without the banana, well, let's just say that what we have here is a disturbing case of comical castration.
What will future generations make of the phrase "second banana?" One might as well talk about a "second horse and buggy" or a "second honest politician." True, we still have the phrase "second fiddle," but, given the increasing popularity of electronic musical instruments, this phrase may not last much longer. Then, how will we refer to ass kissing underlings without resorting to vulgarity?
Nor is this the only threat the disappearance of bananas poses to the English language. For decades, the term "banana republic" has been used to glorify developing countries that valiantly sacrificed their local economies (and many of their citizens) so that corporations based in developing countries could maximize their profits. The main exports of the original banana republics were, indeed, bananas, but the term has come to be applied much more broadly (at one point becoming a synonym for "Latin America," for example).
When bananas are extinct, what will replace the term banana republic? Apple republic doesn't cut it. Pear republic? I don't think so. Cherry republic? Now you're just being silly. I suppose that if the term loses its meaning because of the disappearance of bananas, we could always stop exploiting developing nations.
Whoa. Let's not get crazy about this.
Another effect on popular culture: who will be able to make sense of the song "Day-o," which refers to life on banana plantations? On the other hand, the death of this fruit will give new meaning to the song, "Yes, We Have No Bananas," so, musically, we have something of a wash.
The impending doom for bananas need not be all bad. Those who are addicted to banana liqueur will have to wean themselves off their habit, a boon for temperance groups everywhere. Similarly, banana daiquiris will no longer be able to tempt the unwary into a life of debauchery.
We can also expect an easing of the North American obesity problem. Why? No more banana splits! While it may be too much to expect former banana split junkies to take up tofu and greens, many may substitute sherbet or other iced desserts for their once shameful habit. This would certainly be a step in the right direction.
Will the banana go the way of the dinosaur? Literally - will it become a metaphor for absence? Thousands of years from now, will historians debate the possibility that the disappearance of bananas was caused by a huge meteor crashing into the southern hemisphere, throwing up a plume of dust that changed the planet's atmosphere, making it uninhabitable for bananas? (You have to admit, it makes a more interesting story than the obvious one that involves human greed, stupidity, ignorance and short-sightedness.)
Perhaps there will be a sequel to Jurassic Park, in which the DNA of a long extinct fruit will be extracted from amber and cause a resurgence of it. Not much opportunity for drama, I'm afraid - even now, beating people senseless with bananas doesn't constitute much of a threat. Still, in the hands of Steven Spielberg, it couldn't be any worse than Minority Report.
Whether for good or ill, the extinction of bananas is coming. Get on the banana boat while you still can...