The things that I have in my head could be so practical to a fully functioning human. I know gobs of things: religion, music, art, literature, history, computers, linguistics, critical analysis of texts. Having this Jeopardy head could be so handy to someone out there living their life or slogging through a career or trying to have sparkling conversation.
When I was in sixth grade Miss Moccia first told us about the fertile crescent, where they thought human civilization began. Where is it now? Where are the children of the Mesopotamians? Can I go dig up their old stuff and learn their writing? Were Adam and Eve there? It was an amazing day, like many to come that blew my mind. I have some sort of audio-graphic memory with a propensity for curiosity: I remember everything I hear. That’s handy. Anybody want it?
The irony is that I fought for this brain. In junior high, we went to the FBI museum and I stared in wonder at the spy devices I had only read about in books. But in 1975, no one took a girl seriously as an agent, and my parents said, “Well, you can’t be a spy.” Or a writer. Or an actress. Or a lawyer. Or an archeologist. Or a minister. You’re a girl, and a not very bright one at that. How about a teacher or secretary? Fine. I did that. But eventually I fought hard against a mighty bullwork to be able to stretch this brain into Czechoslovakia and into my Ph.D. Now what good is it? They were right in a way. I can’t do anything. Except think deeply about flawed arguments on FaceBook.
All my facts, my lovely facts. I’ve built castles and parking garages and Gaudi buildings no one had ever seen before. Now I can’t tell what’s happening in reality and what’s paranoia. I fall into a rage, dive into a well. The voices in my head are so loud, those voices of my parents distorted by my crazy interpretations of what they mean. That audio-graphic memory has come home to roost.
Do you want my facts and audio-graphic memory? I would give it to someone who would use it for good (no Republicans). It could have contributed. A used brain is better than a new one.