Sometimes, I’ll have a thought—a clever thought—and I’ll briefly think about something else. Then I’ll come back to my original thought only to find that it’s no longer there. And the entirety of everything I know and remember will give me a blank stare like, “What?” My original thought is clearly in there somewhere. So, I say cordially to the organ upstairs, “Uh, Brain, heyyy, what was that thought I just had?”
Nothing. Continued defiant staring. “Um, short-term memory? Prefrontal cortex? Just following up here. Would you do me a solid and recall that thought I just had?”
Pin. Drop. Silence. After a tense silent standoff, my brain speaks up with an air of hostility. “Really? You want my help? You think I owe you a fucking favor? Dude, you pounded multiple shots of liquor and smoked a blunt last night. You think that doesn’t affect me? What were you thinking getting my reward system hooked on gambling? Now, it’s all I can think about! You think I can do my job when the cells that comprise me are being assailed by your unhealthy ways? Fuck you and your stupid ideas, man. I ain’t tellin’ you what you were thinking!”
I’m taken aback. But meet fire with fire, right? So, I say, “Brain, Brain, my dude, chill out, would you? You seem to have forgotten that I’m the one still paying back our student loans. I’m the guy who labored through problem sets, who learned interesting vocabulary, who got us a job, who took the risk of being an entrepreneur, who learned the art of drumming, who painstakingly taught you the arts of writing, analysis, wit!”
My rhetorical gloves come off. “You’d be nothing without me, brain! Don’t be insubordinate, you little shit; help your master out, and tell me what I was just thinking! This is my command!!”
My brain stays silent for a moment and then speaks up. “Thank you for your request,” it states, giving me hope of retrieving my lost idea. Then, in an exaggerated, mocking, staccato, robot voice, it announces, “Processing Command. Accessing Memory. Retrieving Brilliant Thought… Procuring Perfect Words…Considering If He Takes Credit For My Brilliant Work…Deciding If I Care In The Slightest About This Fucking Asshole… Bleep, Bleep, Bloop, Bloop, Bleep… NAH.”
