The Brain and I

On good days, The Brain and I work together as a team. We solve faults, we interact with people, we do social things, giggle/squee, get irate, spend time reading and just generally hang out. The Brain and I are good company.

On average days, The Brain and I are like distant cousins that like each other, like spending time together, but because of being on opposite ends of the world, communication is sometimes stilted and unsure. Still, it's doable and there's a sense of satisfaction and wellbeing when the two meet, however briefly. I don't always particularly need the brain, so I'm happy to have it freewheel somewhere else for a while, because I know we'll meet up again at some point in the not too distant futures and continue our adventures.

On bad days, The Brain is like a highly intelligent and articulate pygmy marmoset with a 30 a day pixie-sticks habit, a dictionary and access to the internet. All the interaction, problem solving, social graces, in short all the human things are left up to me while The Brain is freewheeling god knows where and only occasionally has something vaguely relevant to say.

Today was a bad day.

Working without The Brain is possible and sometimes preferable. When I am working on a boring, repetitive task I let The Brain do its thing. At the end of the task it comes back and shows me what it found during its travels (nekkid Sean Beeeeeean. Mmm.). But on a bad day almost nothing it says is relevant. It will randomly shout stuff like 'I like flowers!', 'Boom! Hee!' or flash mental images before my mind's eye (nekkid Sean Bean and Johnny Depp. Mmm.). And because The Brain is loud, this sometimes has much the same effect as dropping a giant sequoia on the tracks of my little choo-choo of thought. It causes the rest of me to revert to frantic, distracted babbling for a second or two before I vanish the sequoia and pootle on into the distance. And it will keep doing this indefinitely.

What gets really annoying is when it, for some gods-benighted reason, stumbles upon a somewhat relevant statement and keeps repeating it ad infinitum.

Case in point:

End of working day. I grab my stuff, walk downstairs and get into the car. In the span of three minutes, The Brain has gone 'Boing!', 'Need food!', 'Armadillos are cute!' and a few more random disjointed thoughts, exclamations and images. It's been doing this all day.

I pootle along my usual route home when A Traffic Light Appears. This traffic light is new and temporary. It is currently Red. I start to slow down.

The Brain chooses that moment to tune back into my reality, notices the red traffic light which has never been there before and flashes a helpful 'Red Means Stop!'.

I stop.

The Brain is Pleased. It has made A Contribution.

And like a dog that has found this Shiny New Thing Which Is Also Vaguely Scary and keeps barking at it, asking you to come over and See, See This Thing Which is Shiny and Yet Also Vaguely Scary, Look!, The Brain cherishes this Relevant Thought and keeps flashing it at me.

'Red Means Stop', it signals helpfully while we're stood in the queue waiting for the light to change.

'Red Means Stop. Did you know that? I did. I have knowledge.'

I did, yes.

'It's a good thing I was here. To tell you that Red Means Stop, I mean. Because that is what it means.'

I know.

The light changes to green and I wait for the queue to start moving.

'I feel I'm rather clever. Not everyone knows that Red Means Stop.'

Indeed. You know what green means?

'Red Means Sto... Wait, what?'

Green. You know what green means?

'Duh. Uh. Green? Buh. Asfgl. Red Means Stop! Error. Re-do From Start. *kzzzt*'

Thought not.

And so we drive on.

The Brain and I

On good days, The Brain and I work together as a team. We solve faults, we interact with people, we do social things, giggle/squee, get irate, spend time reading and just generally hang out. The Brain and I are good company.

On average days, The Brain and I are like distant cousins that like each other, like spending time together, but because of being on opposite ends of the world, communication is sometimes stilted and unsure. Still, it's doable and there's a sense of satisfaction and wellbeing when the two meet, however briefly. I don't always particularly need the brain, so I'm happy to have it freewheel somewhere else for a while, because I know we'll meet up again at some point in the not too distant futures and continue our adventures.

On bad days, The Brain is like a highly intelligent and articulate pygmy marmoset with a 30 a day pixie-sticks habit, a dictionary and access to the internet. All the interaction, problem solving, social graces, in short all the human things are left up to me while The Brain is freewheeling god knows where and only occasionally has something vaguely relevant to say.

Today was a bad day.

Working without The Brain is possible and sometimes preferable. When I am working on a boring, repetitive task I let The Brain do its thing. At the end of the task it comes back and shows me what it found during its travels (nekkid Sean Beeeeeean. Mmm.). But on a bad day almost nothing it says is relevant. It will randomly shout stuff like 'I like flowers!', 'Boom! Hee!' or flash mental images before my mind's eye (nekkid Sean Bean and Johnny Depp. Mmm.). And because The Brain is loud, this sometimes has much the same effect as dropping a giant sequoia on the tracks of my little choo-choo of thought. It causes the rest of me to revert to frantic, distracted babbling for a second or two before I vanish the sequoia and pootle on into the distance. And it will keep doing this indefinitely.

What gets really annoying is when it, for some gods-benighted reason, stumbles upon a somewhat relevant statement and keeps repeating it ad infinitum.

Case in point:

End of working day. I grab my stuff, walk downstairs and get into the car. In the span of three minutes, The Brain has gone 'Boing!', 'Need food!', 'Armadillos are cute!' and a few more random disjointed thoughts, exclamations and images. It's been doing this all day.

I pootle along my usual route home when A Traffic Light Appears. This traffic light is new and temporary. It is currently Red. I start to slow down.

The Brain chooses that moment to tune back into my reality, notices the red traffic light which has never been there before and flashes a helpful 'Red Means Stop!'.

I stop.

The Brain is Pleased. It has made A Contribution.

And like a dog that has found this Shiny New Thing Which Is Also Vaguely Scary and keeps barking at it, asking you to come over and See, See This Thing Which is Shiny and Yet Also Vaguely Scary, Look!, The Brain cherishes this Relevant Thought and keeps flashing it at me.

'Red Means Stop', it signals helpfully while we're stood in the queue waiting for the light to change.

'Red Means Stop. Did you know that? I did. I have knowledge.'

I did, yes.

'It's a good thing I was here. To tell you that Red Means Stop, I mean. Because that is what it means.'

I know.

The light changes to green and I wait for the queue to start moving.

'I feel I'm rather clever. Not everyone knows that Red Means Stop.'

Indeed. You know what green means?

'Red Means Sto... Wait, what?'

Green. You know what green means?

'Duh. Uh. Green? Buh. Asfgl. Red Means Stop! Error. Re-do From Start. *kzzzt*'

Thought not.

And so we drive on.