Compulsory? said Pliny the Elder. Didn't you mean compelling?
No, I meant compulsory. People stopped in their tracks on the pavement. There were people pointing excitedly on seats. A man stopped in front of us and told us that dolphins were amazing creatures. I remember thinking, What am I doing here?
Very existential, remarked Pliny. Do I take it you are not really fond of dolphins?
Not overly, I replied. No more than of tuna. I remember reading once that dolphins were
capable of being rather nasty. Or was it whales?
No, said Pliny, dolphins do sometimes behave badly. I have heard that they kill porpoises and even sometimes kill their own young.
Chacun a son gout, I said philosophically, but the thing is, I wasn't pleased to realise that I felt under a compulsion to stop and watch it play, or try to catch its dinner, or whatever it was doing.
Free will is an illusion, said Pliny, wisely. I have been reading your library book, 13 Things That Don't Make Sense, and one of the Things is free will. They've discovered that our brain gives out readiness signals a good half second before we make a conscious decision to act.
Yes, it makes sense, I said. Otherwise how would we ever get out of bed in the morning? But on the other hand, I wasn't totally convinced that this wipes out free will. It may just be a combination of habit and our brain's efficiency. I'd like to see them test it on a baby.
Good point, said Pliny. By the way, where is that book? I was looking for it this morning.
Oh sorry, I had to take it back to the library, it was overdue.
Couldn't you get an extension?
No, they wouldn't let me, it had already been reserved by someone else.
Showing posts with label brain. Show all posts
Showing posts with label brain. Show all posts
Monday, June 22, 2009
Monday, May 25, 2009
Zoroaster's Cheese
Here it is, I said, taking the cheese out of the fridge.
It is certainly small, said Pliny. What sort of cheese is it? Was it costly?
Quite costly, I replied. It's Callington Vintage cheese. Hand made, I think. Would you like some?
I cut him a small crumb of the cheese. He tasted it, and sighed.
Ah, he said, this is the sort of cheese that is never the worse for age. I imagine it was cheese like this that Zoroaster ate while living in the wilderness for twenty years.
Zoroaster liked cheese? I asked, surprised.
I don't know that he liked it. He is reputed to have lived on it for all that time. But of course, he was thinking of other things. Humata, Hukhta, Huvarashta. Good Thoughts, Good Words, Good Deeds.
In any case, I said, he must have had very strong bones.
Not only that, said Pliny. His brain was so active that if you were to place your hand upon his head, it would instantly be shaken off.
Is that to be attributed to his thoughts or the cheese, I asked.
You may be sure it was attributable to his thoughts. He invented magic, you know. And his works amount to two million lines.
But couldn't his thoughts have been engendered by the cheese? I persisted. I know that cheese is meant to give you nightmares if you eat too much at bedtime. Perhaps that was where all his magical thoughts came from?
Nonsense! said Pliny. He was only eating cheese for twenty years. When he came back from the wilderness, I daresay he never touched the stuff again.
It is certainly small, said Pliny. What sort of cheese is it? Was it costly?
Quite costly, I replied. It's Callington Vintage cheese. Hand made, I think. Would you like some?
I cut him a small crumb of the cheese. He tasted it, and sighed.
Ah, he said, this is the sort of cheese that is never the worse for age. I imagine it was cheese like this that Zoroaster ate while living in the wilderness for twenty years.
Zoroaster liked cheese? I asked, surprised.
I don't know that he liked it. He is reputed to have lived on it for all that time. But of course, he was thinking of other things. Humata, Hukhta, Huvarashta. Good Thoughts, Good Words, Good Deeds.
In any case, I said, he must have had very strong bones.
Not only that, said Pliny. His brain was so active that if you were to place your hand upon his head, it would instantly be shaken off.
Is that to be attributed to his thoughts or the cheese, I asked.
You may be sure it was attributable to his thoughts. He invented magic, you know. And his works amount to two million lines.
But couldn't his thoughts have been engendered by the cheese? I persisted. I know that cheese is meant to give you nightmares if you eat too much at bedtime. Perhaps that was where all his magical thoughts came from?
Nonsense! said Pliny. He was only eating cheese for twenty years. When he came back from the wilderness, I daresay he never touched the stuff again.
Wednesday, February 25, 2009
Ishmael
One upmanship indeed, said Pliny the Elder. So your art film was merely a spy-cam. I hope you are proud of yourself.
It was just stab in the dark, I replied. I knew you would be tempted to read page 470 if I asked you not to. What did you think when you read it?
I was quite put out of countenance. But I decided nevertheless to read the book in its entirety. I have been reading it at night after you have gone to bed. I find that I am much of a mind with Ishmael on many topics relating to the whale.
I thought you might be, I said. In fact Ishmael reminds me of you. In Chapter 80, for example, called The Nut, where he claims that the whale's magnificently proportioned spinal cord ought properly to be considered as part of its brain, which would otherwise seem disproportionately small, and in support of this claim he cites the German conceit that the vertebrae are undeveloped skulls.
An interesting idea, said Pliny, and worth pursuing.
I also like his idea that Saint George may not have fought and killed a dragon, but a whale, as in many old chronicles whales and dragons are strangely jumbled together, and it would be a much grander exploit to have battled with a whale than a mere crawling reptile. Saint George, he claims, could well have been mounted on a seal, or a seahorse. Artists in those days were ignorant of the forms of aquatic creatures, which would explain why he was depicted slaying a dragon while mounted on a horse.
An intriguing conjecture, agreed Pliny. I also find the story most exciting. Do you think Captain Ahab will eventally do battle with Moby Dick?
Everything points to it, I said.
It was just stab in the dark, I replied. I knew you would be tempted to read page 470 if I asked you not to. What did you think when you read it?
I was quite put out of countenance. But I decided nevertheless to read the book in its entirety. I have been reading it at night after you have gone to bed. I find that I am much of a mind with Ishmael on many topics relating to the whale.
I thought you might be, I said. In fact Ishmael reminds me of you. In Chapter 80, for example, called The Nut, where he claims that the whale's magnificently proportioned spinal cord ought properly to be considered as part of its brain, which would otherwise seem disproportionately small, and in support of this claim he cites the German conceit that the vertebrae are undeveloped skulls.
An interesting idea, said Pliny, and worth pursuing.
I also like his idea that Saint George may not have fought and killed a dragon, but a whale, as in many old chronicles whales and dragons are strangely jumbled together, and it would be a much grander exploit to have battled with a whale than a mere crawling reptile. Saint George, he claims, could well have been mounted on a seal, or a seahorse. Artists in those days were ignorant of the forms of aquatic creatures, which would explain why he was depicted slaying a dragon while mounted on a horse.
An intriguing conjecture, agreed Pliny. I also find the story most exciting. Do you think Captain Ahab will eventally do battle with Moby Dick?
Everything points to it, I said.
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