Squire Tuck and i have been talking about brains lately. this is because he drew a probe that he would like to design that would help him to access and understand the brains of others. half of this probe is very grid-like, the other half is all squiggledy. i imagine that you will be, as i was, interested to learn that the grid portion of the probe is for decoding the emotions of others, and the squiggle part is for thoughts. because thoughts come in different sizes and shapes, you see, whereas emotions have a limited number of causes and expressions and always make sense.
the number of times that i can say "ah" in a day continues to amaze me. i'm clocking "ah" at the speed formerly observed for the expressionless "yeah" on the west wing.
so i asked Squire Tuck to draw me the inside of his brain, which he did, and it was really interesting because my picture of the inside of my brain is radically different. whole people can get in and out of my brain, they can poke about and learn things, tell me about themselves all day long, settle into the armchair that's just behind my forehead and see things from my point of view, should they choose to do so. people can wander in unannounced and set up their own little cozy area, decide to stay for a while, and i play really loud music and ask them to leave but they're like, gripping tightly to a dendrite and they shall not be moved. my skull is basically like a bucky fuller house, it's my house and it's where i live and all my thoughts have their own rooms, and that's how it is.
it is consistently strange to me to realize that i have a completely different concept of something than someone else has; that my concept is based on absolutely nothing other than my imagination and possibly some vaguely remembered sci-fi films; that this concept is no more or less valid than anyone else's. that there may be nobody wandering around inside my brain except me, or that in fact wandering does not take place at all.
Squire Tuck has a high and impenetrable wall at the edge of his brain, by the way. i should have gotten one of those, but i seem to have these rather permeable walls and they're right at the property line. so. come on in. i will make you some coffee and i have these delicious dark-chocolate-covered gingerbread things, they're taking up an awful lot of space in here right now and i'm happy to share.
*edited to add a requested link to a picture of the probe. the brain pictures are private, but Squire Tuck okay'ed the picture of the probe.
Ah. My brain is a house with a really nice verandah, shady and draped in ivy and filled with comfortable sofas and chairs. I like to hang out there with visitors, maybe watch the rain for a while, maybe watch strangers pass by on the sidewalk. But sometimes I prefer to go inside the house and turn all the locks. I always hope that, by keeping the porch hospitable, there'll still be people out there when I come back out.
Posted by: Doppelganger | January 18, 2007 at 08:33 AM
are your beans from java city?
Posted by: munky | January 18, 2007 at 08:48 AM
In college we tried to invent some Nietzschean/Schopenhauer-type aphorisms. They are not so easy--unless you are going for the absurd and then they are.
You've reminded me of the only one of these I can recall: "The furniture of the mind is not for sitting on."
Posted by: ozma | January 21, 2007 at 06:30 AM