Hypnogagia

Neuroscientists believe that our brains and our minds are separate. The brain is an organ, about three-or-so pounds of soft gray tissue. The mind, on the other hand, is less easily defined and resides somehow in the brain without actually having an identifiable location. Almost like a ghost haunting a house, the mind dwells in the brain.

But the mind isn’t a totally untethered spirit – how the brain works affects our minds. Certain brain conditions even can affect how we perceive reality. For instance, as we fall asleep – in the first few moments while we slip out of consciousness – a phenomenon named hypnagogia can create all sorts of wild distorted visions in our minds. Giant fish the size of trucks with wheels driven by your mom down a street lined with rhythmically dancing palm trees might be the sort of imagery you see during a hypnagogic episode.

My friend Alan once became very interested in paintings by Salvador Dali – the artist who painted pictures such as clocks bending on bare trees in desolate landscapes. Even though Alan wasn’t generally interested in art, Dali’s work appealed to him for some reason and he filled his apartment with Dali paintings. After reading Dali’s autobiography Alan even began behaving like Dali, growing a mustache and twisting the waxed ends upward, carrying a cane and proudly breaking wind at parties.

During one party in his apartment Alan met a guy who was an art authority. Alan was anxious to discuss Dali with this guy and they chatted at length until the discussion ended abruptly with Alan walking out of his own party. After looking around with uncertainty, eventually guests one-by-one and in couples left Alan’s apartment and I cleaned up and turned out the lights.

The next day I went to his place and Alan was there. I walked in and immediately noticed that his mustache was gone -- he had shaved his beloved Dali mustache. As I stood in the living room, I noticed also that across all of his Dali prints Alan had scrawled “Rip off!” and “Fake”. I said, “Alan, you knew these were only prints, right? You didn’t ask that art guy last night if these were worth anything, did you?” Dismissively Alan waved his hand and said, “Of course I knew they were prints.” But then he told me that the art guy told him a story about Dali.

Apparently, to find inspiration for his strange paintings Dali would purposefully drift off to sleep after big meals sitting upright in a chair holding a key between his thumb and index finger. As he fell asleep, the key would slip from his hand, land on tile floor with a clatter and wake Dali so that immediately he could paint the fantastic images he saw in his hypnagogic states.

“What a total rip-off,” Alan said, looking at the floor. “It’s just like all those baseball players using steroids to hit homers. Those aren’t real homers. And those pictures aren’t Dali’s ideas. They’re just tricks.”

I looked at the prints on Alan’s wall and tried to imagine seeing the images Dali did as he fell asleep. I could hear traffic passing on the street below. “Alan,” I asked quietly, “Do you ever see these kinds of images as you fall asleep?” He looked up at me with moistened eyes and nodded yes. “Is that why you think Dali is no longer special? Because you see these images, too?” Alan nodded again and said vaguely, “Uh-huh.” I put my hand on his shoulder and said, “Well Alan, I think you’re special.” “You do?” he asked. “No, not really,” I said.

Youth Part 2

Apparently, even though it’s really illegal to have your own particle accelerator in a regular American basement, no laws exist clearly stating this fact. So my friend Alan spent a few weeks at a military base while it was decided what would happen next. Of course, none of us knew what was happening at the time because Alan was not allowed to be in touch with anyone. I guess they thought Alan might be part of some larger conspiracy and they didn’t want him conspiring while they figured out what was going on.

After all the activity died down at Alan’s house , I began to worry about him. Would we ever see Alan again? Finally, one day I got a call from someone who sounded like Alan, but not exactly. It was his voice I thought, but something was missing. Usually, in everything Alan said you could hear a constant sort of questioning – almost as if he wondered whether you believed him when he simply was telling you something normal, such as how much he liked a movie he just saw or the fact that he was planning to take up a new hobby such as model rocketry. But this familiar quality was missing in the Alan who called me several weeks after the particle accelerator incident. We made arrangements to meet at the TGI Fridays at the mall.

The guy I met looked like my friend Alan and sounded like my friend Alan, but he certainly didn’t act like my friend Alan. What first concerned me was that we always ordered the large beers at TGI Fridays. They have a couple of sizes and we always ordered the ones that are like almost two beers, but in one glass. But this time Alan ordered something called an Arnold Palmer. He just said to the bartender, “Arnold Palmer, please.” I said, “What?!” Alan said, “I just ordered an Arnold Palmer.” “You mean the golfer? You ordered the golfer?” I asked. “No, it’s a drink called Arnold Palmer. It’s got lemonade and iced tea in it,” Alan said and turned to look at me in way that made me shudder.

I turned and looked back at the bartender and he was mixing an Arnold Palmer with zero concern. It was as if people came into TGI Fridays and ordered Arnold Palmers everyday. I asked, “How do you know what’s in an Arnold Palmer?” The bartender looked up and said, “I’m sorry?” I asked again, “How do you know what’s in an Arnold Palmer? Do a lot of people order Arnold Palmers?” “Sure,” he said and shrugged. “It’s a popular drink.”

I looked at Alan who was looking straight ahead and then back to the bartender who had returned to his drink making. Suddenly I felt as if I was in a movie and that I had cotton in my ears and that I was weightless. How could I not know about a popular drink called Arnold Palmer? “Okay,” I said, “Are you guys putting me on?” Alan turned and said, “About what?” “About Arnold Palmer being a drink!" I said beseechingly, "How could I not know that there was a popular drink called Arnold Palmer?!” Alan and the bartender looked at each other and shrugged. Alan said, “Maybe you just missed it.”

Something had happened while Alan was away. Something had happened to Alan and to me and to the whole world and to everything. "Alan," I said. "What's happening?" "We're having a drink at TGI Fridays, just like always," he said. "Oh no. This isn't just like always. Don't try to tell me that this is just like always. Everything is different. You've never ordered a drink called Arnold Palmer. And you've never just sat there and looked straight ahead at a bar. Something is going on. Something has happened."

Youth

Aging is a hot topic lately with such a large portion of the American population entering the later phases of life. It seems that all media is filled with stories about retirement, investments and how getting old isn't so bad. Everyone I know talks about aging. Except my friend Alan. He’s one of those guys who seems unaffected by age; year after year he looks as he has since college.

Alan and I met for lunch downtown the other day and he was acting strangely. As he looked at his watch for the 50th time I began to wonder if he wanted to be elsewhere. We ate lunch silently and Alan left abruptly after paying the bill. It was curious for him not only to act so furtively, but also to pay the bill without calling attention to his generosity. What I didn’t know was that Alan had a date with destiny. Turns out that Alan has been conducting medical experiments on himself for years, and he never told me or any of our friends.

From what I now understand, when atoms are split one of the particles is sent backward in time. An electron flies away from the atom and actually travels backward in time for a millisecond. Alan figured out a way to inject massive amounts of these particles into his blood stream. He invented a particle accelerator with a syringe on one end. As atoms would split he'd funnel the backward time traveling particles into the syringe and into his system. This process counteracted the process of aging in his body. Alan had created his own fountain of youth.

This was all very incredible. It was also very illegal. Regular people are not supposed to have particle accelerators capable of splitting atoms. Especially not in their basements. That day I had lunch with Alan downtown he was on his way to tell his story to a newspaper. The story came out and Alan was famous in days. He also was arrested and apparently in big trouble.

I was shocked. Why would Alan put me in such danger by having a particle accelerator in his basement? Think about it – he probably was radioactive. And since we spent so much time together, probably I am radioactive, too. I mean, sure it's great that his experiment worked and that he looked great and everything but you just don't do that to friends.

Religion

Lots of people feel compelled to succeed in life. They are pushed ever forward by the desire to be the best they can. And why not? Religious people often say that the most pious thing a person can do is to use fully the gifts given to them by God. You show God appreciation for your gift by using it. After all, God went to a whole bunch of trouble picking out a talent that suits every person on the planet, and that's a huge effort.

On the other hand, if the talent is ours, if it truly is a gift from God, then it's ours to do with as we wish. Gifts with strings attached are not much fun to receive.

My friend Alan once gave me a croquet set. It was a really nice set including a durable storage rack with wheels. After I unwrapped it he stood there shifting his weight from one foot to the other -- that expectant posture communicating, "Okay, I'm ready for mine." But I didn't have a gift for Alan and he got all bent out of shape. For the rest of the party he just sulked by the fireplace and spoke only to guests who gave him a gift. I'd be really surprised if God acted like that.

Certainty

A mathematician once said that the greatest danger to humanity is certainty. Man is capable of committing terrible acts when a warped or paranoid point of view is backed by certainty, he argued. Funny that a mathematician would argue against certainty. But I suppose being certain that four plus four equals eight is not a dangerous point of view.

My friend Alan says that we can’t be certain about anything, too. Although I am pretty sure he argues against certainty not because of a deeply held philosophical position, but because it’s fun to challenge people expressing utter certainty. When someone states an opinion with total conviction in a conversation his eyes sparkle and then he’ll ask, “Are you sure? Are you really sure? Can any of us really be one-hundred sure about anything?” Inevitably, the person with the strongly held opinion will restate their certainty. That’s when it gets fun.

We were at the bar in a TGI Fridays once when Alan got into it with a guy about the war, or something. Alan did his “are you sure” routine and the guy reasserted his absolute certainty. So Alan asked, “What about giving right-of-way to wailing ambulances? Are you certain that’s the right thing to do?” The guy agreed. Then Alan asked, “But what if the ambulance rushing up behind you in traffic contained the bullet-ridden body of the Antichrist shot by international undercover monks? What then?!” The guy was confused. “Sure, let the ambulance by so that doctors have more time to save the Antichrist because you were certain that ambulances have the right of way!”

The guy looked at me and I shrugged. Alan sat there smiling and then pantomimed shooting a basketball and celebrating the successful shot just as I had a mouthful of beer. I hate it when he does that.

Friendship

The human race is distinct from all other mammals for a number of obvious reasons; speech, memory, reason. However, a trait that truly makes us most different from all other creatures is friendship. The ability and desire to form lasting bonds with humans other than a mate just to enjoy conviviality is conspicuously human.

Friendship did not start out as a social arrangement, however. Homo Sapien were gatherers to start. Food was whatever could be found and it was usually vegetables and fruits. At some point it was discovered that eating the flesh of animals helped Homo Sapien to gain more weight. With another ice age coming this was important. But it was difficult for one man to catch and kill animals large enough to produce much meat. So he was forced to become social and cultivate friendships with beings other than his mate to catch animals.

Often I dream of my friend Alan and I trying to catch a wild boar together in the scrub brush. We are both running and alive, collaborating to outwit a lesser mammal. The prehistoric air is flowing though our long hair and we are one. But then Alan falls in a hole breaking his leg. And I leave him there because, you know, survival of the fittest, baby.

Cloning

Biologists love cloning. I suppose it might be because it’s great fun creating new life in a nice clean lab rather than going about it the messy and old-fashioned way. The amazing part is that cloned life is absolutely identical to the original organism. And we’re not talking simple one-celled organisms; biologists created a completely new sheep in 1997 named “Dolly” by cloning, and it was genetically identical to the sheep from which it was cloned. Not sure why they chose a sheep to clone since sheep are all identical anyway. Apparently they are not identical to biologists. Probably shepherds have their favorites, too.

The real reason biologists love cloning, however, is because of the ethical issues surronding human cloning.

Most thinkers involved in the debate over whether humans ought to be cloned agree that cloning humans is unethical. However, biologists secretly want nothing more than to clone humans. They're like boys with matches; they know it’s dangerous and that terrible things might happen. But that’s exactly why they most want to clone humans anyhow. Biologists are dying to clone a human. Every biologist that you read about or see on television is trying to act all grave when talking about how serious an issue it is when considering cloning humans. But you can see in their eyes that they're just peeing in their pants because they want to clone a human so badly. They can't stand it.

Without a doubt, some day a human clone will be made. And as it crashes down the street creating havoc and taking over the world you can be sure that the biologists will be standing there sheepishly, hiding beakers behind their backs and pointing at the chemists as if they did it.