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Musings from Moyieboy ... |
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Brain farts and where to find them |
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December 28, 2017 |
By Ken Carpenter
No human in the history of the world has ever
been immune to the most common affliction known
to man: Brain Farts.
“I don’t have Brain Farts … my brain just
completely poops its pants sometimes.”
Unknown
We all have them, even though many dishonest
people would deny it. Of course, some of us have
more than most. Notice I said us, which throws
me under the cloak of those whose brain oozes
toots like a bean-eating buffalo.
It’s really not fair. I don’t consider myself an
idiot, but if an invisible spy followed me
around he would run out of notebook space to
document my various gassy-headed maneuvers.
I think brains might just get bored, they can’t
stay productively active all the time. Sometimes
they need to take a break. Unfortunately those
breaks don’t always end up well and they often
end up getting stuck in a soupy mire of idiocy.
Neuroscientists, a refined bunch if ever a bunch
was refined, call these episodes “maladaptive
brain activity changes.” Even they can’t explain
why a sensible, intelligent person can turn a
straightforward task into an epic blunder.
The latest Brain Fart research indicates that
they are unlike errors caused by a lack of
information or experience, or even by
distractions. They are supposedly “inborn and
instinctive, and have a predictable neural
pattern that emerges up to 30 seconds before
they happen.”
They supposedly happen a lot when you are
daydreaming, one of my hobbies, by the way.
Half-assed scientific theories aside, many if
not most Brain Toots don’t even have a witness
to them.
That may make them a bit more bearable, but it
is easy to twist your neck out of shape peering
around to see if anyone saw or heard your
inexplicably stupid performance.
The brain represents about two percent of the
body’s total weight but consumes up to 20
percent of its energy. All of that firepower is
bound to have a mysterious flat tire
occasionally.
External stimuli acts like a bushwhacker,
spawning the imagination and creativity that
stimulates Brain Farts with distracting visions
that can turn off the brain long enough for it
to pass gas.
OK, I’m sick and tired of sounding like a dweeb
scientist.
Can you imagine being paid to chart and
categorize Brain Farts? I bet they have a blast
describing their job to a roomful of brainiacs,
all of whom are no stranger to Brain Farts but
would never admit it.
It is possible that everything to do with our
subject can be laid right at the door of a
simple definition: the brain is lazy. It might
get more downtime than the rest of the body, and
in trying to make up for it, it freezes, making
us prone to dumb goofs.
“A temporary mental lapse or failure to
reason correctly.” Definition of Brain Fart
in Oxford dictionary.
The origin of the phrase Brain Fart was said to
have started around 1870.
Medicine and home remedies were starting up like
gangbusters and opportunist quacks made a
killing with their potions, many of which were
dangerous. Self–destruction was sold as
self-help.
An odd fellow named Roger Plimpkin had the term
Brain Fart created in his honor, a dishonor if
ever there was one. The township where he lived
used it to describe his odd behavior.
On his trips for groceries, he avoided all other
humans and stuffed cotton in his ears as a
concoction to battle the rude remarks aimed his
way. Prominent among them was the name Brain
Fart.
It seems that when he was young, his father told
him a big windy about an extremely tiny
midget living in his brain that would confuse
him occasionally by passing gas.
Little Plimpkin never forgot it and never quit
believing in it, thus his warped personality and
lack of affection for others.
He became so totally reclusive that the only
human he ever talked to was the mail boy. The
curious town folk always asked the boy what
Plimpkin was up to locked up in his house. The
boy always gave the same answer.
“He’s working on a cure for Brain Farts.”
This answer always prompted long, loud laughter.
What an idiot, they all said.
In this case the idiot had the last laugh, for
he brewed up a Brain Fart remedy out of
caffeine, alcohol and poppyseed. It sold by the
hundreds, especially to husbands who thought
their wives suffered from bouts of erratic
hysteria and mental madness.
His magical sauce proved the same as all the
other blends sold by medicinal con-men, it was
extremely addictive and dangerous when used for
too long.
Anyway, when I came up with the idea for a Brain
Fart story I certainly didn’t expect it to be
filled with science and history foolishness. I
thought I’d just pass along some of the personal
brain gas episodes I’ve been guilty of.
Unfortunately my brain has just taken a huge
poop, brought on by too much idiotic
seriousness. I can barely remember my own name.
Rest assured though, my brain’s ability to fool
itself has few competitors. It seems to be my
specialty.
Sigh. And I have never wanted to be the king of
anything.
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