Random thought. Maple syrup is essentially made from tree blood. We are, at least in part, tree vampires.
Tag: Random
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I have a theory, and I’ve had this theory for years. Some may disagree, some may say, “holy shit, that’s gotta be it!”. Anyway, here it is.
All dogs, and I’m talking domesticated dogs, not wolves or anything like that in the wild, but dogs that you find in shelters, on the street, at a breeder’s, whatever. Dogs. They all have the same sized brain. Bear with me.
A chihuahua – the demon spawn of the canine world, who would rip you apart limb from limb (if it were capable). A pit bull or a lab – a great friend, gentle, intelligent (for the most part), stable. A saint bernard or a mastiff – a giant, loafing, doofy, drooling lump of lovable fur. All of these dogs have the same size brain, and their characteristics are a direct result of this simple fact.
Think about it. You put a ton of brainpower, or anything really, in a container that is too small for it, what happens? You get spillage. How does that spillage manifest in an animal? Aggression, bulgy eyes, twitchy movements, high pitched voice. You put that same amount of stuff in a container that is just the right size? It closes, everything fits, everyone is happy. The animal is relatively smart, well balanced, etc. You take the same amount of stuff and put it in a giant container, what do you have? Empty space. Enough said.
Now that is not to say that you can’t have well balanced rat dogs, or intelligent canine horses. There are exceptions to every rule. But, in general, this is the dog brain theory. Please let me know your thoughts.
Thank you for your time.
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This song has been so fitting for the past week or so for me. Especially the line that says, “Got a really short fuse today, everyone around me’s fucking crazy”. I just wanted to share.
https://music.apple.com/us/album/a-little-bit-off/1487244856?i=1487244862
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I was laying on the couch this afternoon, resting after a very long day yesterday. Afternoon sun, muted by cloud cover and blinds gave the room a nice, warm light. I notice that there’s this moment right as I was dozing off that my brain kinda takes off and goes to really random places, even for me.
I have noticed this before, but it has piqued my interest this time around. It’s this strange, half aware, half dreaming state.
I wonder if this happens to everyone. I also wonder what it would be like to extend the length of time spent in that state from a few seconds to a few minutes, and what doing that would entail. What is the electrochemical activity in the brain like at that point, and what purpose does this state serve?
I’ve been at that point and suddenly remembered something I had wanted to remember but couldn’t or got some grand inspiration for a problem I have been working on. What is it about this moment that allows those things to happen? Some research is in order….
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So, 10:37pm on day four of high dose steroids for an MS relapse. If recent history repeats itself, I will be wired all night and up until at least 3am, get two to three hours of sleep, and then get up to start my day all over again. Oh, the joys of stimulants.
Anyway, I got tired of cleaning up, reorganizing dressers and drawers and cabinets, so I decided to veg out and watch a show I found on Netflix that’s kinda interesting. It’s called Supernatural. I know this is probably old news to most people, but I don’t do the TV thing very often, so it’s new to me. In the episode i just watched, one of the Winchester brothers encountered a Djinn, also known as Jinn, Djinni, and more recently, thanks mostly to Disney, Genie. These are mythical creatures of Arabic origin who grant wishes. But what Disney doesn’t tell you is that in some of the myths and legends, the Djinn actually feed off the souls or energy or even blood of the human victims. That’s where this episode went.
So, one quick note. Steroids are a stimulant, as I mentioned. They increase blood glucose, appetite, blood pressure, metabolism, heart rate, and they make it so you can’t sleep. I’ve gotten about 8.5 hours of sleep since I woke up Friday of last week. Sleep deprivation is a funny thing too, because it does things to you. Aside from the tiredness, sandpaper eyelids, and slight detachment from reality, it does funny things to your mind. You think of things that normally you would dismiss because they’re nonsense. But, you’re so tired, it doesn’t really matter; your mind just goes there, unrestricted. And that’s what brings me to this moment.
As I was watching this episode, Dean Winchester was shown the life that he would have lived had his wish been granted, and it was beautiful. Everything he ever wanted. His mother was alive, he had a beautiful wife, his brother was in law school and recently engaged. Everyone was happy. But, he then found that all the people that he helped in his old life suffered and died because he didn’t save them. It got me thinking.
For the longest time, I wished more than anything that I could have my dad back, that he never got sick, never died, we stayed a family. I would have finished premed, gone on to med school, and probably become a surgeon. I would likely not be living where I am, nor met any of the people that I’ve known over the years. I would have helped lots of people in big ways – I would have honestly saved lives in the realest, most literal sense possible.
But what price would that have if that wish were to come true? What people in my current life would be negatively affected? How have I helped people in my current life, just by being the weird, wacked out, intellectual, fucked up train wreck that I am? I mean – my life isn’t a fucking TV show, I don’t get all the answers at the end of a 40-minute episode, but what if the life I’ve led is actually more significant as far as helping people than it would have been if I was a doctor? It’s possible – saving and helping people isn’t just about life or death in an immediate situation, right? You can have a significant impact on people in other ways. I mean, I will never know for sure, but I’m seriously wondering now.
And aside from the whole helping people thing, which is huge to me, because I love to help people, what about the passions that I’ve discovered in my travels? Had I gone to med school, would I have ever discovered the wonders of physics and quantum mechanics and calculus? That stuff is absolutely fascinating, and I could read or talk about it for hours on end! And philosophy? Don’t even get me started on that. Had my dad never died and I never went through everything that happened after that, I never would have delved into philosophy and a lifelong search for meaning and purpose. Oh, and tattoos and piercings as emotional and individual expression? Never would have happened. My first tattoo was a memorial piece for my dad. Enough said. I never would have set foot into that world otherwise. Or would I…?
So many questions. My mind is reeling. I know, rationally, that past the existence of and access to alternate universes, I will never know what could or would have been. And some interpretations of quantum mechanics do posit the existence of alternate realities, but not necessarily access to them. So there’s that.
And where does this leave me, other than exhausted and fucking wired? I guess it means that I have to hope that I’ve made a positive impact on the lives I’ve come across, and at the very least, continue to make an effort to do so as my life goes on. To what end, I have no idea. But I do know that I do not have the mental capacity for such contemplation at this point, so I’m going to go back to the couch, grab some decaf coffee and try to relax to the point that I can actually drift off for a little bit maybe. And if not, I may be back.
Good night for now!
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Have you ever noticed that fits of uncontrollable laughter become less common as we age? I was thinking about that recently, and it kinda doesn’t make sense. Laughing is fun, it’s good for you mentally and physically, and it makes people around you smile. So, what gives?
I suppose that when we’re kids, we are less inhibited, less stressed, and basically don’t have the capacity to actually give a shit that we are spending time lost in a hilarious moment. Laughing for five minutes straight so that your sides and belly hurt and you can barely speak or even breathe is just a thing that happens. And, the younger we are, the better! Babies just laugh for no reason, and they can’t even communicate why they’re laughing. That is absolutely fabulous.
But, as we get older, we care more about what other people think, we wonder if we’re doing the “right” thing or the socially acceptable thing. And I think that’s a load of horse shit. We should all strive, within reason, to be as uninhibited as children when it comes to laughter. We should embrace those moments of silly humor and child-like innocence. We should allow ourselves to let go of the shit storm that is being an adult. It’s five minutes, a single moment of our lives, yet we willingly surrender all of our time and energy to our stress and worry and anxiety.
We claim that we don’t have a choice, because we have all these responsibilities and “important” things to attend to. But, what is more important than taking care of yourself – your mind, your body – and actually living your life? What if we all made a conscious decision to be more open to silly things, even just once in a while, and allowed ourselves to actually laugh like that again?
I’ve had two laughing fits in the past couple of months, and just writing about them now makes me smile and giggle to myself. It was because of this ridiculous idea that a guy at work had, and then something that came up in conversation with Tom that reminded me of it. Both times, it was – liberating. And the fact that it brings a pure, unabashed grin to my face now even though I’m dealing with some really retarded shit makes me believe more than ever that laughing fits are actually important to wellbeing.
Something to think about.
Have a good night. And – laugh a little.😊
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Alcohol – like beer, wine or vodka – is really just the excrement of microorganisms.
Just a thought for when you go to take your next sip… 😉
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It’s 7:10 on a random Thursday in May, and as usual, I find myself thinking. I’ve been doing a lot of that lately, moreso than usual. I came across some things recently, stuff related to frequencies, Nikola Tesla, human consciousness and the like, and my mind has been kinda going and going since.
We all – every single one of us – vibrate with a particular energy. We have to, because our bodies are electrochemical machines. You can’t have such a thing exist and it not emit some sort of energy, regardless of how imperceptible it is. And our moods, controlled by chemicals and electrical impulses, do impact that energy.
That’s enough on that topic for now, I think. I’m not quite ready to delve further into that discussion.
Anyway, due to some thinking I’ve been doing lately, I want to get back to writing. It is something I enjoy, I think I’m pretty good at, and something that may inspire discussion, which I also enjoy. And life is too short not to do things you enjoy, right?
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It’s a random snowy Saturday in March and I’ve tried to write something at least three times so far (each with a series of restarts and edits) and I just can’t settle on a topic. I spent some time examining the electric bill to see what could be done to lower it, but the options out there for energy supply are on par, or even a little above Central Hudson per unit supplied. Not to mention the fact that delivery is just as expensive, and there are no options for that part of it…. And so, back to writing.
The problem is not that I don’t have any ideas. Quite the opposite, actually. There are so many things I could write about running through my mind, and I can’t seem to focus on one in particular to write about. Topics range from day to day crap like bills and cost of living, to the war in Ukraine, to a historical examination of my own socio political views, to the current state of politics and the world, to work, to random silly shit like the fact that we have to buy socks on a far more than regular basis because Frik loves to sneak them out of the laundry and chew holes in them… Or how about the fact that all the things I could write about are somehow connected, so if I were to write comprehensively, it would be a dissertation, not a blog post. For the record, though, Frik chewing on socks is probly not related to the current geopolitical climate, if I’m going to be honest. If Frik was a person, he’d be the dreamy football star that all the high school girls swoon over, but certainly not an honor student. I doubt his affinity for chewing on socks is related to anxiety over the state of the human world. Ha!
Speaking about dogs for a moment, though, they really are awesome, and their capacity for love is unrivaled in my opinion. I had a stomach bug or something earlier this week, and I spent a good portion of the morning hugging the toilet. And ya know what? Frik was there, in the bathroom, standing right beside me the entire time. The other dogs were observing from the hallway, but I have to say, if I had long hair, Frik would have held it out of my face for me if he could have. I can’t think of any other pet that would show that kind of concern. Hell, a cat would give you some condescending look and just go somewhere to sleep or clean themselves. Lol
I have to say, I don’t like the feeling of having so much in my mind and not being able to express it. It’s frustrating. It’s also difficult because there are a lot of things I don’t know about some of these topics, so I feel I have to research before talking about them, and that in and of itself is daunting. Tom and I were talking the other day and he made a comment that he wished he could just be ignorant. I told him at the time that he can’t just cancel out being an intelligent, observant human being with common sense. The more I think about it though, it would be kinda nice to be able to do that. To just turn off your mind when it comes to national and world events, and not worry about all the what ifs and what are we gonna dos and other such questions. That, in turn, makes me think about The Giver, and then I realize that ignorance is not really bliss, and that being informed really is the better way to go about things, for so many reasons.
So Tom found two documentaries about the same subject that apparently tell two very different stories. Considering my mood, this interests me, so I’m gonna go watch them. More later probably.
A Peculiar Cerebral Tangle 