“You see yourself descending
From the building to the ground
And you watch the sky receding
And you spin to see the traffic
Rising up and it’s so quiet
Then you wake”–Adam Duritz
I went to an IMax theater in Boston last week and saw a docu-film in 3-D about South Pacific sea life. An enormous Sea Turtle crunched coral onscreen like rock candy. The narrator said this about the Turtle: “She lives her life as a nomad; a hungry nomad avoiding crowds.”
It was overall a forgettable but visually stunning film. Alas; vacations end, and Thursday the car pulled into my neighborhood with its terrified trees lining the roadside, (disfigured by the tree cutting crews because they dared grow near power lines.) I thought of the far away turtle, of course, upon returning to my neighborhood trees. The trees here are frightened apostrophes that shrink back from the wires, hungry for an adequate mix of light, water and space in which to REACH but yeah they’re encroached upon. Certainly, if they could avoid crowds, they would.
Meta-thinking. It’s what I do. Meta cognition. We’ll call it the “art of asking why and attempting to look beyond what you see on the surface.” Here’s an analogy: the techie term ‘meta tag’ is a code about data that describes data. Some people call “meta thinking:” thinking about thinking. I call meta thinking Brain Plumage. Well, deliver me in the belly of a black-winged bird.
My brain is a strange bird. But most people ARE strange birds. “Invisible” thought processes are in essence plumage (imagine the layer of feathers that cover a bird). The patterns, colors, and arrangements of these thoughts vary from person to person. I Think some people don’t think at all. These tendencies to forget to think, to think only within the reins of what you Have to think, and like me- to OVERthink, differ from person to person. Like feathers. And like the birds, brain plumage varies with age, sexes, and season. Within species there can be different color ‘morphs.’
I do think about everything. In fact, maybe it’s Aspergers, maybe it isn’t a part of my Aspergers, but my brain tells me everything I do before I do it. If I get lax I backfire. Here’s an example. Sometimes I sip a drink (coffee, water, etc.) and if the internal command isn’t saying SWALLOW, I simply forget. It’s true, because at least once a day I realize I’ve got liquid sloshing around in my mouth from a sip I took minutes ago. I had simply forgotten to think about swallowing. Ever happen to you? It’s happened to me my whole life. Told you I’m a strange bird…
What would my brain plumage look anyway, like if I were to paint it? I’d like to try. I’m going to attempt this, but the project is going to take me awhile. I’ll no doubt metathink it, you see.
. . . a little red-winged bird, shining like a burning bush, singing like a scripture verse, everything is holy now – Third Sunday in Advent
I’m not religious per se, I AM spiritual and I like the sing and ring of that little sentence. I mentioned earlier that thought processes are invisible; so how can I paint my very own brain plumage? Oh I can answer that easily. The painting would be in part Imagination, of course! But also I am aware on some intuitive level that brain plumage isn’t invisible if you really look.
I’m going to compare this to computers again because the brain really is some wacky Goldberg machine ride and pc analogies seem to fit. That said, even animals can’t see wireless networks; even though they do see infrared and humans do not. Luis Hernan has given us a vision of what it might be like to SEE wireless networks.
(SEE PHOTO GALLERY)
L. Hernan, a PhD student at the Newcastle University, UK, maps wireless signals in a room using what he calls the Kirlian Device. He translates the signals into color. The strongest signals are converted to red, the weakest to blue. “I call the images ‘specters’ because wireless networks remind me of ghosts,” Hernan said. “They are there but you can’t see them with the human eye.”
Interesting, isn’t it? Would brain “plumage” look similar? I THINK it would…
Does brain plumage moult, according to season? Would my brain feathers change into a dimorphism of albinism (lack of color) when I’m ill? Would my metathinking brain wear vibrant colors during a listen of my favorite music?
When I think of heaven
Deliver me in a black-winged bird
I think of dying
Lay me down in a field of flame and heather
Render up my body into the burning heart of God
In the belly of a black-winged bird—Adam Duritz
Supposedly, the pine tree holds the longest genome ever sequenced.
Loblolly Pine Trees are lovely.
Say that 15 times fast. For more on the beautiful invisibility of wireless networks, like this blog then click here: http://www.iflscience.com/technology/invisible-beauty-wireless-networks
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