The Folly of Color

The Folly of Color

 

Listen, every last one of us comes from the Serengeti, if you go back far enough. Somewhere between Tanzania and Kenya, near lake Victoria in East Africa is where mankind originated. That’s where the source of humanity is. That’s where we all have a single set of ancestors. How about that? A gazillion years ago our (ad infinitum) grandparents lolled around the beach on lake Victoria an, produced a whole slew o’ kids, who lolled around the beaches of lake Victoria an’ produced another slew o’ kids an’ so on an’ so forth until the whole gol dang beach was filled with human type critters. An’ there ain’t a single one o’ us that didn’t come from there.

Well, what color was we way back then? Nobody knows. One thing for sure though, we was all the same color – could’a been purple for all anybody knows. It wasn’t until we started movin’ round the globe that our color started to change. It had to do with climate. It wasn’t climate change like we got now, but human change because o’ climate. Them that went to Europe turned white for example an’ them in Asia turned a variety of anywhere from yellow to taupe, dependin’ where they landed.

So the first thing they all noticed was that each group is different than the other – which led to an “us an’ them” mentality. Hunh, wouldn’t ya know it? The “us’s” are all thinkin’ they’re superior to the “thems” – an’ the debates an’ justifications keep on comin’. The Iranians say Aryans come from there. They’ve been there forever – even longer’n forever in fact. The Germans, since Hitler an’ Himmler don’t buy the argument. Naw, they must be German(ic) accordin’ to them. Well they got the blue eyes an’ fair skin so they must be Aryan. The only thing they don’t seem to notice is how red their necks get when you point out their stupidity.

Me an’ the missus was walkin’ down by Bunn’s Creek a couple o’ years ago when we encountered one o’ them failed Aryans. He was complainin’ about the damage caused by young people on public property without consequences. Well, we agreed an’ first thing you know he’s railin’ about how such perpetrators would disappear in WWII Germany. He figured they was doin’ things right over there, but somehow the rest o’ the world didn’t agree. Sad really, he said.

We couldn’t get away from this crestfallen supremacist fast enough. I didn’t think such people still existed, but they do, and right here in Canada too.  I guess they’re everywhere. The one thing to remember is that we was all the same color once an’ any dilution had to do with climate differences an’ nothin’ to do with the politics o’ civilization. At least that’s how it seems to me from up here on the top shelf.

Just sayin’.

Neuroplasticity

Neuroplasicity

 

Whew! That’s a big mouthful. But it’s an interestin’ subject. It’s a brand new science of the (human) brain. Norman Doidge wrote a book on it, in fact several books. I ain’t read either one o’ them but I saw an interview on the TV with him. He claims that it’s possible to retrain the brain to override pain triggers in it so as to eliminate say, migraine headaches for example, or even arthritis pain an’ so on. In fact, he can even overcome seizures experienced in Parkinson’s disease. Who knows what all else you can fix by retrainin’ the brain.
Well I got a PhD too. It’s from the university of hard knocks. It’s got nothin’ to do with neuroplasticity but ya do larn a thing or two in that institution, mostly to be observant. So ya might say I got my PhD in Observation. So this is what I observed:

The way Doctor Doidge explains retrainin’ the brain used to be called patternin’ forty odd years ago. I alluded to it in my book “Michael” where a number o’ people retrained Michael’s brain to be able to walk an’ run an’ do other basic motor skills. It was a mammoth job that needed eighty people for two years all day long every day. Well it worked – for forty years. One o’ the reasons it worked was that the walkin’ an’ runnin’ were goin’ on all day long, so that just reinforced the lessons taught to the brain.

Then of course there was the seizures. There wasn’t a gol durn thing you could do about them except be close by so as you could catch him before he kissed the floor. Well the adjustments they made for that was to have him sittin’ or lyin’ down as much as possible, cause the seizures would only last a minute or so. But that leads to another situation I was able to observe, talkin’ about seizures. My late brother-in-law suffered from Parkinson’s for some time. He would have momentary seizures where he’d suddenly hit the deck. It was like shuttin’ the engine off in his brain where everythin’ would let go an’ stop dead. But he learned a little trick. Pickin’ hisself up off the hardwood, he’d focus on marchin’ – left, right, left right, - an’ sure enough his legs would start movin’ as long as he concentrated on that. Course, that was fine so long as nobody interrupted his focus.

Well, just another word about eliminatin’ pain by way of the brain. I thought this was a good idea for arthritis sufferers until my sister pointed out that it wouldn’t be so good if you accidentally leaned on a hot stove an’ felt no pain as yer hand caught on fire, or you walked out in the snow barefoot. Murphy’s law applies here too; i.e. “when things seem to be goin’ well, you’ve probably overlooked somethin’”. They got a lot more work to do, at least that’s how it seems to me from up here on the top shelf.

Just sayin’.

 

 

 

GMO Humans

GMO Humans

 

Them gol danged Brits! Ain’t they got better things to do? Wasn’t they the ones to clone Dolly the sheep a while back? Now the scientific community is gonna make a new an’ improved human for crimeny sakes! Outa’ three parents they’re gonna do it, an’ I don’t know how that’s gonna work. There’s only two kinds o’ parents in the human species that I know of (an’ every other one to boot). Where in the world did they get the third kind?

Genetically modified they say. That sounds a little far fetched. Somethin’ like what Sir Harry Pilkington might do in his laboritory in St. Helens. Well after all, he took ordinary plate glass an’ figured out a way to make it absolutely perfect by a process called floating. This genetic modification would be somewhat similar although less transparent. You’d take an existing egg, remove all it’s defective  parts an’ add in the good parts from each o’ the parents an’ voila, you got yerself a super egg! Imagine what that’s gonna produce when it’s cooked an’ comes out in the form of a super baby. Holy crackers!

Just think o’ the possibilities. You’d have this super smart brat, probably a red head cause they got a higher tolerance for pain, an’ not prone to diseases or allergies. It’d probably be a handsome devil too. Well if you’re gonna design somethin’ ya might as well make a good job of it hadn’t you? But then there’s Murphy’s law. Well he says that if everythin’ seems to be goin’ well, you must’a overlooked somethin’. Good ol’ Murphy. He’s always got a spare fly to throw into the ointment.

Well just think. Them folks is so focused on makin’ a new an’ improved human bein’, they ain’t even thinking about all the possible outcomes. For starters, what’s the pharmaceutical companies gonna do when everybody’s healthy for as long as they live? An’ speakin’ o’ that, how long are they gonna live anyways? Did anybody ever stop to think about when the ol’ ticker quits?

This is gonna be a game changer far as I’m concerned. Who needs doctors an’ nurses for perfectly healthy people? Who needs robots to do the work for perfectly healthy people? No, no, no. This is definitely not a good idea. Tremendous industries are built around sick, ugly people an’ they’re doin’ just fine as it is, thank you very much. We don’t need no George Orwell type creatures roamin’ the earth upsettin’ the applecart. At least that’s how it seems to me from up here on the top shelf.

Just sayin’. 

 

One Slice o' Pizza Will End the World

One Slice o’ Pizza Will End the World

 

Bet ya never figured on that one, did ya? The world’l go hurtlin’ into some black hole in space ‘cause we’re gettin’ way too fat. Well go figure. Say three hunnert pounds per person times seven or so billion people – that’s a whole lotta pounds to be stompin’ around on the ground at one time. Is it any wonder that there’s so many sink holes showin’ up from frackin’ for natural gas? Or all them earthquakes suddenly showin’ up?

There’s two possible scenarios goin’ on here, the way I got it figured out. The first is them refugee camps. People are pourin’ into ‘em like there’s no tomorrow, fillin’ up spaces by the thousands. Right now they’re landin’ up in Turkey, Egypt an’ Jordan. An’ in fact, there’s a lot o’ them comin’ from parts o’ Africa, tryin’ to get into Italy. Fortunately, none o’ them are too fat so it can’t make that much of a difference. Still, twenty thousand people at say a hunnert an’ fifty pounds each adds up to fifteen hunnert tons o’ humanity all concentrated in one particular area. Well, just think about sailin’ a boat full o’ people along the river an’ everybody decides to run to one side. What do you think will happen? Of course, the dang thing’ll tip over an’ sink! Well the same thing will happen to the world with all that lop-sided weight distribution. We’ll get all wobbly an first thing you know the polar axis will shift an’ the world’ll go flippin’ out into one o’ them black holes Stephen Hawking’s always goin’ on about an we’ll disappear, never to be seen again.

Well the other possibility is that last slice o’ pizza to put us over the top, weight wise. Just how many pounds do you think the earth can take fer cryin’ out loud? Remember that guy who was addin’ a straw to the camel’s back every day until finally the critter collapsed under the weight of it all? Well again, what do you think? How many more slices o’ pizza can we jam down our throats before our world collapses?

Everybody’s so worried about global warming and carbon emission spellin’ disaster to our world, that nobody ever figured on the epic consequences of one last slice o’ pizza. At least that’s how it seems to me from up here on the top shelf.

Just sayin’.