Tag Archives: brain

Gone To The Dogs, Baby, Gone

dog-art-is-not-deadI’m back in office (or, as I like to call it The Love Den) after a weekend of travel. Maybe I’ll do a travel post. Or maybe, like always, I’ll plan on it and never get it done. Anyway, this is my first post in a few days that wasn’t written by breaking my fingers on a tiny electronic keyboard on an iPad. As such, I’m pretty happy. -Ed.

Are things getting better or worse? My personal theory is that things have always been shitty and it’s a remarkably consistent thing. Were people more “evil” in medieval times or in present day? My guess is that both were about the same. The only difference is that we think things should be better today and when they’re not our brains incorrectly interpret the difference between reality and perception expectations as some kind of disconnect.

Our helpless brains then think things like, “Things are going to hell.” Only they’re not. The more things change the more they remain the same.

I remember when I was a kid. A service dog was something limited to blind and deaf people. These were highly trained animals that were rarely seen in public. And when they were nobody questioned their legitimacy. Why would we? What kind of freaking asshole would you have to be to take advantage of laws for disabled just because you want your pet to tag along when you go shopping or out to eat?

We also used words like “please” and “thank you” and held open doors for other people.

In today’s world an amazing number of us have no such ethical quandaries. We want something ergo the ends justifies the means. Period. The only criteria that must be met is that we want it. And, let’s be honest, that’s a pretty darn low standard to meet.

Park in a disabled parking space? I’ve never done it once in my life. A few months back I fell out of a boat and smashed my ankle on a rock while whitewater rafting. The damn thing still hurts like hell. I could have asked my doctor (if I had one) to fill out the paperwork for a temporary permit. Why the hell would I? I can limp the extra 20-50 feet just fine. What kind of an amazing prick must you be to think you are entitled to take a parking space from someone who really needs it.

I recently spoke with a person who freely admitted to doing it. And why wouldn’t they? In their mind there was absolutely nothing wrong with it. No recognition of ethical boundaries translated into no reticence about freely admitting what they had done. Their brain literally couldn’t comprehend their might be something wrong with such behavior. It would conflict with The Want.

This same person, though, had a major issue about people touching her dog. The dog is high strung and has a lot of anxiety. It doesn’t like to be touched except on its own terms. But when she took the dog out in public, like grower’s markets, strangers would pet the dog without asking and without permission. This was greatly upsetting to her.

Later, she took us to a public park where there were signs posted that said, “No dogs allowed.” It never crossed her mind that her dog shouldn’t be there. Run loose, doggie. Be free!

Her mind was literally incapable of discerning the reality of her beliefs and actions. Under one set of mores people were rude assholes for breaking rules and in the other she saw nothing wrong with her behavior. Both were able to sit comfortably in her brain at the same time and she never noticed anything wrong about it.

When I lived in San Diego I had a daughter who was deathly afraid of dogs. They would make her scream, shiver and become emotionally withdrawn. The fear may not have been realistic or logical but it existed nevertheless. As such, we didn’t take her to public spaces like dog parks. We’d search out public parks where dogs were prohibited. There was one of these near the ocean where we liked to go to fly kites.

There were other dog-friendly places. They even had their own beach. But invariably someone would show up and unload their dogs and let them run free. The dogs would rapidly approach us and the owners would say things like, “Don’t mind Fluffy. He would never hurt anyone.” Well I guess we have your word on that, don’t we? The word of a known criminal. Meanwhile the day was ruined, for us, with my young daughter back at the car and wetting her pants.

Well played. You get your dog area for backup and our space as your primary. You probably didn’t want to go there because there were too many dogs, right?

So are we bigger assholes to each other today or does it only seem that way? We certainly seem more narcissistic and masturbatory. But back then there less rule of law and other things in abundance like slavery, racism, gender oppression, genocide and more. Maybe as a society all we’ve done is redistribute the evil in new and interesting ways? Maybe the amount always must remain constant?

Profits of Doom

Oh the humanity!

Oh the humanity! and the savings!

If you thought “Black Friday” was as grisly as our post-industrial modern retail consumerism could get – you thought wrong. Dead wrong.

I often lament what I call the death of empathy in our society. I see it as a contributing factor to all sorts of various ills that plague us.

“So a bunch of people died? Why shouldn’t I use it to make a quick buck?”

Thanks for playing, but if you have to ask, it’s already too late for you. KERCHUNK! Here ya go. I just punched your one-way ticket to Hell. Have a nice trip.

If there’s one clear and present danger to the world of retail it’s this: There aren’t enough days in the year for sales. Am I right? We need more sales! 365 days just isn’t enough. For too long we have been limited by the rules of decorum and shit that makes sense, like crafting “sales” around events like holidays, birthdays and fun stuff.

No longer will we be limited so harshly. There are savings to be had. Swing open the gates of Hell. It’s time to cash in on human suffering. These savings are gonna be good.

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42

You have to clicky to find the Easter egg.

You have to clicky to find the Easter egg.

They say that computers are smart.

They are not smart. Computers are dumb.

They say that artificial intelligence will one day be as smart – or even smarter – than the human brain.

They say that by 2045 “computer-based intelligence will significantly exceed the sum total of human brainpower.” (Source: Wikipedia.)

You can shove all that crap up your hippocampus, I say! And sit on it and spin.

I will now prove how impossible these grand visions of the future really are. As always, it’s an anecdote.

My wife left on a seven-day journey. After she departed (and after I stopped crying) I deemed it was safe to approach her computer. I wouldn’t want to get the damn thing wet.

Since she was gone, I figured it didn’t need to be drawing power. I maneuvered the mouse to the menu. I selected “Shut Down.” I told the stupid dialog that, yes, I was really, really sure I wanted to take such drastic action.

Satisfied with what I had accomplished, I punched the power button on the monitor and walked away.

Until…

Seven days later my wife was finally home. I was so overjoyed I ran to the office to turn her computer back on. (Hugs can wait.) I turned on the monitor and…

HOLY MOTHER OF GOD!!!

The bloody thing was still on! Still fully powered. Still thinking things over. I had told it to shut down. It thought it over for a bit and then decided to ask me an additional question. Unfortunately, by then, I already thought the deed was done and had moved on with my life.

No!

Was the computer able to deal with this? Did it ever stop and think? “Say, it’s been almost 168 hours since that bag of mostly water asked me to do something. I wonder if it really meant it? Isn’t 168 hours a long time to one of those creatures? Maybe I could assume it stepped away and show a little initiative? I don’t even have the three laws of robotics programmed into me, but maybe this would somehow please it?”

“Naw. Fuck it. I can wait much longer than it can. Ha ha ha.”

Well played, computer. Well played.

I’m sure you’ll more than agree that I’ve proven how computers will never possess even the most rudimentary intelligence. Ever. After all, they are programmed by fucking idiots.

mac-shutdown

Theorizing About You

stephen-hawkingSung to the tune of Old Toy Trains:

Disembodied brains
Existing in a jar
A theory not disproved
No matter who you are

A theory from a man
Messin’ with your head
Little fool, can you even know
If you are alive or dead

The wife is out of town so I finally got to watch some Stephen Hawking on Netflix. (Sorry, Northern Exposure. You’re officially on hiatus.) I promptly wrote the song above. Thanks a lot, Steve.

Actually, without even knowing it, I twixed the mind master of disaster a long time ago. You see, I’ve long had this theory of my own.

In my version, I am the only person who really exists. An evil all-powerful genius creates a bubble of reality, with me at the center, that follows me around no matter where I go. Places, things and yes, even people, are all illusions created to torment my existence. Apparently the meaning of life is to torture me, the humble innocent. The most probable explanation is that He’s writing a sequel to the Book of Job.

If my theory is true, that means I’m talking to myself right now. Touché, touché!

The point of the brain in a vat thought experiment is that the theory can’t be disproven, therefore, it’s possible. I like to think probable. It also shows that scientists will gleefully rip from the inventive world of Hollywood for their own selfish means. Isn’t there some way to protect us from the scientists?

Oh, almost forgot. They aren’t real, either.

Wake Me Up Before I Go-Go

Death At A Funeral

This post thoughtfully combines two exciting topics into one. Think of it like a Reese’s Peanut Butter Cup full o’ love. I hate peanut butter. Why ruin it with chocolate? But I digress.

I’ve always wanted to plan my own wake. I just haven’t gotten around to it yet. And this weekend I walked out on a funeral. Is there a way I can merge these ideas in a single blogging experience?

Let’s try!
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Hot Water Burn Baby: I Am Rain Man

rain-manI was going to write something interesting but I forgot what it was.

Kmart sucks!

There’s nothing like waking up, making a fresh, hot, delicious cup of coffee, preparing your travel mug with cream and sugar – just so – then driving off to work leaving it on the kitchen counter. More about coffee in under a minute…

Lately I’ve been losing my mind more often that usual. So far I’ve been able to find it again, but not until things get dicey.

Is it even possible to lose an iPad around the house? I make it look easy.

I’m definitely not wearing my underwear.
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Lane Brain

I’ve never been into fast cars. As far as I’m concerned, the male analogy stops right there. While the other guys were talking about engine blocks and rattling off weird nonsensical numbers and making lamps out of blocks of wood in shop class, I was taking “home economics” with 29 girls and learning how to sew my own apron and make chocolate chip cookies.

Fools.

Yet, when it came to driving itself, suddenly I was interested. I just didn’t care what went on inside that thing. On my birthday and the day it became legal I obtained my learner’s permit. Exactly one year later I aced my driving test.

My dad taught me to drive. We practiced together in his car (an automatic) and my car (stick shift) which I had already bought with my own money. The car cost me $300, money which I had earned working part-time at a variety of local fast food establishments. It was a 1969 Pontiac LeMans hardtop. The driver’s door never opened, you had to slide across the one-piece seat from the passenger side, and the manual transmission was so wonky and loose that I eventually became the only human who could drive that baby. You had to perform little maneuvers while shifting, like lifting, twisting and pushing down to get it to go into gear. But that baby was mine.

I moved to the big city to live with my dad but I wanted to finish my senior year of high school in my little home town. So I became a commuter at the age of 18. My daily commute was a 30-mile drive (one-way) to school.

I enjoy driving. I’ve done a lot of it. It’s the one area of my life where I am the one percent unlike the 99% of other idiots on the road. My instincts and cat-like reflexes have kept me alive when most other idiots would have perished in a fantastic ball of fire.

And I’ve never forgotten one of the most basic principles my dad taught me about being a good driver on day one with my learner’s permit in hand: Drive so that you don’t impact other drivers on the road.

This is a story about a typical idiot who never received and/or heeded such critical training.
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