Brains. Bane of my existence (in a not ruining my life (most of the time) kinda pun(ted) way).

I love the thing. All wrinkly and cavernous, gobbling up one fif’ of the of the food you ingest, turning on and off all valves and sphincters and shoving it’s mighty, governing hand into the middle of synapses to regulate all things you and only you. To think that your personally omnipotent, eight pound deity is swishing around up there, held in place by one durable mother of a sheath governing (with a long list of chemical fares) the infantry of cells building and defending the beaker that encloses the visceral components of your existence. 

To warrant the following selection of thoughts, I believe with a indescribably confidence that we came from dirt germs through a selection of chances, triggers, mistakes and responses. Matter is matter and to deify, or believe in one single being, for me is to demistify or to lack an answer and jump on board with someone who doesn’t mind telling themselves that one idea or individual or God will fill the gaps of what we think we don’t know or can’t find out. It’s said that we will never know all (a criticism of “science,”) but we can sure take out our proverbial scalpals and start dissecting the world one percent at time to figure this shit out without jumping to the conclusion that we aren’t capable of understanding because a being greater than ourselves produced all. For sake of wrapping this ranting bit of run-ons up, I conclude with holding on to evolution and conservation of matter and elements as my raison d’être. But then again, I don’t speak French and had to google the spelling; though, reason runs deep from culture to culture, human to human. No one wants to be here for no reason. 

To continue with the topic organ of choice though, us sapiens were lucky enough to grab the mutated gene that gave us a bit of awareness to understand the before, the now and after dimension; to know that if I ate some delectable shit I shan’t have and am now smelly, dehydrated and decomposing, or that if I lost a couple knuckles, because I stuck my digits in a place my digits do not belong, I can remember not to do such illogical shit in the future. That later on down the road of time, I will remember to stay away from danger, because that was then, this is now and the future is a little bit more clear, because now I have the gift of retrospect and later the ability communicate and even later an iphone to look up synonyms to words I use too much in my day to day vocabulary.

The main reason for this post is to make up for all those posts I said I’d make e’ry day. Turns out, that shit is hard to do. 

The mainer reason for this post, however, is to thank Chris Lawrence for such a fucking great gift. Dude knows I like brains, and he’s got quite a brain himself, enough to make one out of clay that coincidentally smells of formaldehyde while it still is drying. Seriously though, thanks to him for kicking out the creativity. Makes my heart all warm and shit.

Mort, (gr)over and (g)out.