The Mind of Man

Men move mice with minds!

It seems that scientists have discovered a way to allow man to play computer games with his mind alone. "No more need of calloused finger tips and clumsy thumbs" scream supporters.


Now I know that the conclusion-jumpers and luddites amongst you, thinking that you can see with my manful eyes, are already envisioning a Matrixian scenario wherein computers take over and we meet our doom at their hands.

I doubt that very highly! My eschatological visions are far more original than that!

I have no fear that the world might fall into the 'hands' of computers. Indeed I would prefer ten-to-one that the world were in the hands of a windows-based, virus-ridden P100 that had never been defragmented than in the hands of George W. and Vice-admiral Cheney.

No, no, the evil that lies herein is far more insidious than that.

Today's person is, to use a perhaps unfamiliar technical term, totally screwed up. Using a methodical and scientific system I have dilineated this 'screwed-uped-ness' into two main forms: frenetic, undisciplined, mental pandemonium and good-old-fashioned sloth. The proof of God lies in the fact that these two defficiencies effectively negate each other when push comes to shove.

Mental Pandemonion:
I would not go so far as to say that men are more evil than they once were. There are many upstanding and admirable men alive today. Myself for example. However, I would, and will, say that the average man's mind harbours more twisted and violent thoughts than they did one hundred years ago. Indeed who can say that they have never laughed at something that might make their grandmother cry? We are a generation that can download video of a civilian being executed by extremists hours after it occurs. We are a generation who barely blink an eye when a "humorous" pal forwards us an innocuously titled jpeg which turns out to be a photo of a nubile blank man having relations with an 800 pound white women. We are the generation of Littleton. We are the generation of goatse.cx

We are also a generation of MTV and infinitely rapid information processing. Our minds are a high-speed freak show of images and ideas censored only by what meager filaments of ethical fabric remain in our post-modern world. Again, by no means am I arguing that we are evil. I would simply assert that our minds are a pandemonium of unspeakable ideas floating in a sea of moral relativity. One can see how it would be easy for smalltown folks of previous decades and centuries to be polite and kind. It could happen simply out of habit and because nothing else had occured to them. It is easy to love thine neighbor when you only have two of them and they are exactly the same as you. People today on the other hand must micro-manage a startlingly quick barrage of unholy temptations and gruesome impulses.

Luckily, the shady figures darting about the rushhour blur of our mental landscape are held at bay by more than mere morality. Our impulses and ideas are kept in check by our laziness. We are the laziest of generations. Look at our heroes: Vince Carter? Good old Half-man, half-a-season? Even though he is blessed with the greatest physical gifts in the world and he's still too lazy to play a game for money. Puff Daddy? We idolize a musician and lyricist who said "So what if I don't write rhymes? I write checks." Why labour away at art when you can pay someone else to? Homer J. Simpson. Need I say more?

The fact that it still takes a great effort (which we are generally unwilling to make) for thoughts to become action is our generation's only saving grace.

I, for one, am as pious as they come. I am currently practicing Kaballah, Zen and Sufism. Yet, despite all my contemplative training and my natural strength of mind, I find it impossible to resist imagining myself clotheslining every person who goes by on a bike. What a delightful (albeit painful) assortment of pavement-grinding collisions could ensue were I to act on these impulses! Luckily for the grannies of the world I am as lazy as the next man (when not motivated by the impending doom of our fair planet or the delightful come-hither glances of the fairer sex).


How long would we last if we could effortlessly convert our thoughts into action?

By consulting the film "ghostbusters" -- which although quite popular is underappreciated for its value as an arcane and subtle commentary on various eschatological matters -- it becomes clear that we are likely to meet our doom instantly at the hands of our most spontaneous and trivial imaginings.

The full horror of what this means need not even be spelled out explicitly.

Who amongst could not complete the simple formula:
"Stay-puffed marshmallow man" is to "thought-controlled computers," as "crossing the beams" is to...

I tremble in fear.


Anonymous Anonymous said...

as crossing beams is to correct chopstick manipulation?


9:48 a.m.  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

Not so scary as the fact that I actually saw "Day After Tomorrow," but here is a link for you!


12:06 a.m.  

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