Found Ramblings

I wrote this in 1994...

ONE DAY, WHILE PONDERING A DILEMMA

What is tofu? Where is East Jahunga? Is it safe to have sex with ANYONE nowadays? Is flame broiling really better than frying? Whatever happened to Spuds Mackenzie? Should I move to South Carolina in spite of its high pollen count? As you can probably ascertain, my meager mental processes have been inundated with trivial concerns for sometime, and I might add, through no fault of my own. I've come to the conclusion, or at least I think that it was me who came to this conclusion, that my brain is truly a separate entity from the rest of my vital organs. It lives in the vacant space above my sinuses, just below the inevitable future home of low-budget hair plugs: my scalp. I'm quite convinced that this brain is its own being and that my body is just leasing a tiny fraction of it in order to sustain life support systems. It doesn't even appear to be the type of lease that offers an option to buy at the end of the term. I find this especially troubling, or at least I think that it is me who finds this especially troubling. Of course, it is possible that every thought that I muster is simply an extension of an idea that the brain has, and not really an original thought of my own at all. The greatest source of anxiety that I feel (at least I think that it's me who feels this) is not knowing what thoughts come from where. When I make an inquiry as to the whereabouts of East Jahunga, for example, I have no way of knowing if I really care, or if the brain actually does.

As complicated as this scenario seems, my dilemma is quite simple. Should I continue living the way that I've been, or should I tell the brain that it is no longer welcome to reside in the neighborhood, sponging off of my system. What seems simple is, in truth, extremely complex. You see, I have no valid function for weighing my options because I can't be sure if it is me or the brain doing it. I've tried asking the brain what it would do if it were in a similar situation, but it always says the same thing: "Why don't you stop worrying about this shit and start worrying about important stuff like SEX?!" That's another reason why I would like to get rid of the brain. It rates the act of sex number two on the official list of things that a body can't live without; second only to Kellogg's Pop Tarts for breakfast. I don't need that kind of pressure. I have quite enough to worry about, or at least I think that it's me that has enough to worry about. I'm going completely nuts thinking about this!

If I tell the brain that it can't stay anymore, will my life drastically change for the worse? Will it change for the better? Might I become an articulate linguist as a result? Or will my speech patterns deteriorate into random groupings of nonsensical babble? Perhaps I'll be able to watch Peter Greenaway's "Prospero's Books" and actually understand it. I just may acquire an ear for country music, but that may be asking too much. You see my conflict, don't you? You can fathom my misery, can't you? You can understand that if I do not resolve something soon I may have resort to drastic measures!

What drastic measures, you ask? Well, to be honest, I haven't had a chance to think of any yet. I'm sure, though, that whatever I decide will prove to be quite drastic. If I'm capable of anything on my own, it's devising drastic measures. Ask the brain, it'll tell you. What it won't say is what it actually does for me, and whether my life would dramatically change if I instructed it to leave. Would I become a vegetable? If I became a vegetable, would I then enjoy country music? Is there anyone who can help me here?!

That's it. I'm fed up with pondering the possibilities! OUT, I say! Vamoose, you neurological vermin that breeds thoughts that I cannot be sure of. Leave my skull and leech off someone else for a change! I've grown tired of it all! (Is this dramatic enough for everyone?) Exit at once or I'll :::DOINK::: mmpht icg hbryt mas dif bubbalibabiba... le oof! Mum de podlin tines fromo cat di dee dee duh... Me make poo poos...

"Are there any other questions that I can answer for you?" — BRAIN.

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