i didn't reach enlightenment but i know where it is located
A couple days ago I was organizing some old journals onto shelves in my office at work when I heard an explosion of surprise and recognition in the hallway. Someone whom I interpreted to be doctor, a neurologist of some kind, had come to see The Good Doctor (TGD) across the hall from me.
"What’s the lowest living thing you can get an EEG reading from?" the neurologist asked TGD. The neurologist was joviality itself, jest and congeniality, a short man with a radiant pink face and gray mustache.
My ears perked up. I could hear TGD was thinking, though I couldn't see him. I dimly don’t remember what he said, but he said something viable anyway, maybe a mouse.
"A spider?" the neurologist asked in a mix of profound learnedness and childlike curiosity.
TGD laughed like only a sage Indian curiosity can laugh, as if he knew the question was somewhat absurd but earnestly considered the possibility.
"You couldn’t attach tiny electrodes to its body?" The neurologist carried out "the joke".
Was it a joke? I wondered if the neurologist had an agenda or if he was just playing the role of running the conversation by asking a question that would interest TGD but which really meant nothing.
The neurologist’s tone shifted down from joviality into I-mean-it-now: "I’ve been researching consciousness…"
My ears perked up again and I turned off my music, subtly like a spy.
He continued, "I became interested because my daughter was studying consciousness. She was taking a class and reading someone—it was a philosopher. But I want to know what the lowest living thing you can get an EEG reading from, to be able to see the sleep-wake cycles…"
My ears perked more perkily at this. I saw where he was going. With sleep-wake cycles, you could detect consciousness and how it shifts or not between sleeping and waking and what sort of creatures have what sort of conscious capacity. My brain was a-flutter.
The door shut, the two having disappeared into TGD’s office.
A few minutes later, the door opened and TGD was stuttering a name out of his memory so the neurologist could look it up. The name was taken away by people shuffling past in the hallway.
They stepped out into the hallway and another man joined them.
"He wants to get an EEG reading from an insect," TGD said, laughing.
The three laughed.
Apparently enlightenment begins in the hallway of the neuroscience department of this hospital, and blossoms in the aptly disguised office of the sage doctor who is my boss. Apparently I missed out this time.
"What’s the lowest living thing you can get an EEG reading from?" the neurologist asked TGD. The neurologist was joviality itself, jest and congeniality, a short man with a radiant pink face and gray mustache.
My ears perked up. I could hear TGD was thinking, though I couldn't see him. I dimly don’t remember what he said, but he said something viable anyway, maybe a mouse.
"A spider?" the neurologist asked in a mix of profound learnedness and childlike curiosity.
TGD laughed like only a sage Indian curiosity can laugh, as if he knew the question was somewhat absurd but earnestly considered the possibility.
"You couldn’t attach tiny electrodes to its body?" The neurologist carried out "the joke".
Was it a joke? I wondered if the neurologist had an agenda or if he was just playing the role of running the conversation by asking a question that would interest TGD but which really meant nothing.
The neurologist’s tone shifted down from joviality into I-mean-it-now: "I’ve been researching consciousness…"
My ears perked up again and I turned off my music, subtly like a spy.
He continued, "I became interested because my daughter was studying consciousness. She was taking a class and reading someone—it was a philosopher. But I want to know what the lowest living thing you can get an EEG reading from, to be able to see the sleep-wake cycles…"
My ears perked more perkily at this. I saw where he was going. With sleep-wake cycles, you could detect consciousness and how it shifts or not between sleeping and waking and what sort of creatures have what sort of conscious capacity. My brain was a-flutter.
The door shut, the two having disappeared into TGD’s office.
A few minutes later, the door opened and TGD was stuttering a name out of his memory so the neurologist could look it up. The name was taken away by people shuffling past in the hallway.
They stepped out into the hallway and another man joined them.
"He wants to get an EEG reading from an insect," TGD said, laughing.
The three laughed.
Apparently enlightenment begins in the hallway of the neuroscience department of this hospital, and blossoms in the aptly disguised office of the sage doctor who is my boss. Apparently I missed out this time.
4 Comments:
Or it can be exciting to use the imagination to fill in the unheard.
that sounds like a rather pioneering experiment. cool
At least you have interesting conversation occurring in your place of work. Imagine the other end of the spectrum (Anigans' office?)
Right. American Idol? I'd rather maintain silence.
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