Brain-deadish

Various derivatives of the poetic expression “men think with their penises” have been around for – well – probably about as long as we’ve had language in some form or another. And men with penises, of course+. Although it may be true most of the time under certain very specific circumstances++, it hardly qualifies as a universal constant.

It is, however, simply the most obvious example of a physiological peculiarity that goes largely unnoticed: our brains seem to be content to let our bodies do most of our thinking for us. Need more proof? Consider how even the most unrepentant of ball-breakers turns into mass of maternal marshmallow in the presence of a newborn. And what about peanuts? Who is capable of eating just one?

But by far the most damning evidence of the brain’s inherent reluctance to step up to the plate, is the average person’s complete inability to concentrate on anything else when they need to go to the toilet.

Now I certainly don’t begrudge my brain a bit of down time, but I’m none too pleased with the idea of it heading off to the pool deck for a banana daiquiri when it should be involved in the serious business of making executive decisions. Left to its own devices, my body is capable of getting up to all kinds of mischief. What really pisses me off is that my brain is obviously too damned lazy to defend itself against these allegations. Hence, this entry.

+ My hit counter is probably going to burn out now

++ Such as the period between puberty and death

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25 thoughts on “Brain-deadish

  1. So…what are you saying? You needed to go to the bathroom so you wrote a blog post?

    Or you needed to go to the bathroom so you couldn’t write a blog post? Then where did the blog post come from?

    What?

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  2. mjw: We’re sorry, but all our higher brain functions are occupied at present, but your question will be answered as soon as a higher brain function becomes available.

    tripeak: Unfortunately not. If I had been, I wouldn’t have been able to resist the temptation to title the entry as “Captain’s Log”

    andrea: If you must know, it was one of my colleagues doing the “I need to take a dump” dance while we were discussing revisions to a contract document.

    luke: The human race? Who’s winning?

    anne: Yes. No. Maybe. I don’t know – could you repeat the question?

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  3. one of my colleagues doing the “I need to take a dump” dance

    *snort*

    I have seen so many variations of this form of dance, and yet, the meaning is alway so clear.

    I love faintly scatalogical blogs.

    Like

  4. I’ve noticed that the body always dominates at the worst possible time. Like when you are in a court house and you discover you need to visit the throne. And there is only one throne in the ladies. And it is occupied by someone releasing an unholy stench. And you decide you would rather endure the pressure than assault your nasal passages…

    I really didn’t want to relive that.

    Like

  5. peas: True. Now for a bonus point: Name them.

    dolce: And there I was worried that my message wasn’t reaching anyone.

    katt: And yet…

    other-duke: Was? I hope you didn’t give into the urge while you typed that.

    champagne heathen: Definitely – except maybe for the “thinking” part 🙂

    alan: Poetry in motion?

    spookieTW: Could be. I’ll give it some thought if I can get my slack brain to cooperate.

    Like

  6. I’ve been sitting here, fingers poised over my keyboard, for close on five minutes and haven’t been able to come up with a single original thought on this subject.
    Fact: I do need the loo though.
    So there you have it. Living proof. OK I reallyhavetogonow…

    Like

  7. I’d say your colleague has shit for brains, but then I realised that perhaps he had it on the brain.
    It is not that the brain is reluctant to step up to the plate, it never learnt how to say NO. Mind you, if it did say NO in some instances, the consequences would be disastrous.

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  8. terri: [Noises off: sound of running feet, followed by distant thunder]

    other-duke: You can get medication for that, you know.

    chitty: That makes no sense whatsoever. It looks like I’ll have to wait for my brain to get back from Ibiza before I can think about it properly.

    katt: Don’t try and shunt the blame onto me. The other side of the mountain accepts no responsibility for how entries are interpreted.

    Like

  9. I once read a book by Orson Scott-Card where the society in the book kept the heads of their ancestors alive in jars to milk them for their experience later. And if the recalcitrant head (wouldn’t you be??) wouldn’t give up the info the living questioner would tweak all the little nerves it once used to have, like the one that says you’ve got a really full bladder, but having no bladder at all the head could not of course relieve it. I thought that to be a particularly warped form of torture.

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  10. donncoppens: Thanks for your input, Zaphod.

    bast: I read that one too – it was called ‘Wyrms’, if memory serves. Excellent, it looks like the brain is back on the team again (at least for now).

    Like

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