When whisky sets random neurons firing…

They say that most original thought comes out of a bottle or through drug-induced haze. Maybe that’s why the dronemasters want all these things banned. Can’t have the plebs doing any thinking, they might realise they are being screwed by an illusion.

I’m not sure if that booze-thought thing is entirely true although it appears to be true. I suspect it has more to do with the relaxation aspect than the drug itself. I have not tried cannabis or cocaine or any of the big ones but I have taken an awful lot of caffeine, tobacco and alcohol and that’s just today. One thing links those three. I am always relaxing when I take them.

Some people grab a coffee while working. They drink from those paper cups with the baby-feeder-cup lids. I could never do that. If I’m having a coffee then I have to stop for a while and relax. And take that silly lid off. If I’m too busy for coffee then I don’t have one. At work I opt for the drinking chocolate from the free machine because it’s the least dreadful option. But hey, it’s free.

Same with smoking and especially boozing. They are only good when you have time to relax and savour them. Going outside to smoke has a (definitely unintended) benefit. Five minutes of total stop, time to collect your thoughts and plan the rest of the shift. Everyone, even non smokers, should do that. I am always finished early now, because I take that five minute break to plan, sort and organise the next couple of hours.

Tonight I am zoned out on Caol Ila (ta, generous reader) and smokes (also ta, diferent generous reader). So it’s relaxation time. This pickled and smoked brain is not concentrating on a particular task, it’s letting random thoughts float around to see if any connect.

Well, to be fair, those thoughts are well lubricated by now so they are sliding around easily. So maybe it’s the booze and baccy as well, but I think the relaxation part is essential. Caffeine doesn’t work so well. The thoughts go by much too fast. With booze and baccy, they float gently through that tiny bit of brain that’s actually paying attention.

Once in a while, the bit that’s paying attention will shout ‘Oi! Look at this!’ and the rest of the brain will look and say ‘So what?’ and then the tiny bit fires up into lecturer mode and damn, that bit of brain has a lot of words in it.

There is a bit of brain that puzzles over things. Everyone has that bit, some people just don’t listen to it. It’s the bit that works out, sometimes hours or days after you first wondered, where it was that you left your keys. It’s tenacious. Give it a problem and it never gives up. It won’t trouble you at all most of the time, it just hands you the answer to something you asked it about ages ago and then it sinks back into silence.

That bit really does need relaxation time to function properly. Keep your whole brain running around all the time and the puzzle-solving bit can’t get a word in. It can’t deal with a constant barrage of problems. It needs to ponder. It needs to calculate and find obscure connections. Sometimes it needs a bit of extra information, a trigger to help it link apparently unconnected things together. Keep bombarding it with new stuff and the problems just pile up and none ever get solved.

Even the fictional Sherlock Holmes had his most insightful moments when relaxing in an armchair and puffing on his pipe. He would blithely exclaim ‘Yellow manta ray, my dear Watson,’ and another mystery was solved. I’ll bet you fell for the urban legend that he actually said something else. I also bet you are now looking up the text on the Internet. Don’t waste your time. The original books were written in Sanskrit and mistranslated. The yellow manta ray was a rare creature and associated with the solution to all problems in several ancient Eastern mysticisms. Conan Doyle knew all about it and he’d tell you it’s all true if he wasn’t quite so dead.

Caol Ila causes some quite wild digressions, I see. Good. Proves my point. It’s that relaxation, what some call meditation, whether fuelled by Zen or Om or whisky or smoke, that lets your mind just float around. I suppose Om is cheaper but not so much fun. You could try the rebel version, the Transcendental Resistance, who chant ‘Ohm’, but I’m getting probably too obscure for most by now.

I thought ‘transcendental’ was ‘beyond the teeth’ for a long time, you know.

Anyway, that little bit of brain never gets drunk or drugged. It’s the bit that tuts at you while showing you the way home. It’s not very good at keeping you moving in a straight line or at avoiding inanimate objects but it gets you there in the end. It solves problems, it’s just a lousy driver because it doesn’t do it very often.

Sometimes it will pop out an answer to a question you briefly wondered about years ago. Usually in response to an external trigger, that little bit of extra information it needed.

When the likes of Stalin and Pol Pot took control of their countries, one of their first acts was to wipe out the intelligent. Academics. Doctors. People with glasses. Anyone capable of actually noticing just how bloody useless socialism really is. They wiped out those who put them into power because if a group can put you into power, they can also put someone else in your place as soon as they realise you’re a git.

The question I had, years ago, was ‘How?’

Damn, now I’m getting images of Fred Dineage and Bunty and the beard bloke and that awful theme music. It’s a two edged sword, this randomness of thought.

How did they manage to kill off all the academics and doctors and all the rest without the general population saying ‘Hang on, we need some doctors and thinkers, surely?’ How did they get the population to calmly accept that it was fine to eradicate all the clever people?

The trigger for the answer was at Frank’s place.

Recently the medics have been whining ‘We are not revered by the proles any more, they’d rather get a diagnosis from Google and their drugs from online cheapo peddlers. We are Medics, we are Gods, why have they forsaken us?’

Because you are only interested in lifestyle control. That’s why we don’t bother with you any more. Yes, there are proper doctors still but they are overshadowed by the dickheads who only want to nag you about today’s lifestyle control and are not interested in fixing you unless you obey. The medical profession has been wrecked by the BMA and the NHS nannying bleaters. Nobody trusts any of them any more.

As Frank points out and as I have said before here, the lies spouted by oafs pretending to be scientists are discrediting all of science. There is still good science out there. There are implants to let the lifetime-deaf hear and the blind see. There are amazing things from the deep sea and from space. New species keep getting discovered in wild and lost places and sometimes right under our noses. There is still real science.

Yet it is all ruined by the fakery of second hand smoke, the admitted lies of five-a-day and units-per-week and now the open call for lies to support the Church of Climatology. This reflects on science as a whole. All of science is seen as untrustworthy.

And so the answer to that years-ago question came. It is easy to get the general population to accept, even to demand, the eradication of the scientists and doctors. All you have to do is let the scientists and doctors demand to have their way. Then let them have their way. They have no idea at all about real life and will make ever more stupid and arrogant demands. They will soon become so arrogant that they will not only admit they are lying, they will publically declare that their lies are a good thing and they should lie more often in order to make the drones accept the crap they spout

We are now at that point.

If the government now declared they would crack down on mad academics and control freak medics, who thinks the public would object? Dammit, the public will soon be demanding exactly that! It will not be difficult to justify the next socialist purge at all.

I am a doctor, an academic and wear glasses. Fortunately I am currently in hiding as a janitor. I think I’ll stay here a while…





8 thoughts on “When whisky sets random neurons firing…

  1. Er, excuse me. The correct chant for Transcendental Resistance is “Bad Boys Rape Only Good Girls But Virgins Go Without.” There is also a numeric version for real masters of the art. “Ohm” is only if you’re not that serious about illegal states of mind.


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