My ROFLcopter goes soisoisoisoi…Posted: April 2, 2008
With that non sequitur aside;
Allow me to sit here with a day-old Dr. Pepper that I bought yesterday, (which I will soon drink and attempt to throw into my trashcan… see “a current conundrum“) to divulge on the topic at hand for today, which isn’t really developed yet, to be almost-perfectly blunt and honest (because face it, being perfectly blunt and honest is just stupid.)
This one’s called, “Blackout” (Or, why we need to see.)
About half the readership that’s incoming within, say, the next few days, probably arrived here via a link on a social networking site found within a comment, or group, so let me be the first to say, “Hey, how is it going! Read the text boxes on the right because I really can’t give a nice-introductory-guy schpeil right now!“. Oh taboruu, you devilishly fiendish madman that uses too many synonyms and overuses italics, why are you mentioning something seemingly unimportant? Well, unassuming reader, non sequiturs are usually my forte, and since this one isn’t, it’s because the person that clicked wanted to appease their curiosity, or their “need” to see. Let me switch into pretentious-literary-asshole mode:
“Why we need to see”, or more specifically, “Why we have eyes”, is to expose the unknown. (No shit, batman.)
Earlier today I was caught up in a situation that involved myself, a pencil, paper, and mind-blowingly monotonous mathematics in a cold, auditorium-like room with about twenty-one other people. The other half of the building, of course, had no electricity, hence we had to move to take a discourse in what educators kindly call “diagnostic tests”. Electricity was spotty, if you wanted a Q.E.D. Forty-five, no, forty-two minutes into said “test”, the cold, auditorium-like room turned to pitch darkness. A cacophony of SHIT! GODDAMN! WHAT THE FUCK!? IS THAT A FUCKING GHOST!? HOLY SHIT!! entombed me as I sat, pretty much quiet, thinking about something intangible as a friend asked for his graphing calculator back. That’s right. Fucking quadratic equation.
For those few minutes, no, seconds of sensory deprivation, I came to a realization. Us “normal”, “sighted” people (not including the blind because they have already adapted to that haunting darkness) rely on our eyes for making both the tangible and intangible apparent and sending a signal to our brains to say, “Hey, you. THAT damn well should grab your attention. Maybe you should do something.” There’s a difference between feeling the worn pages of a hardcover book, smelling that pleasantly disgusting musty smell that all books have, et cetera and actually reading and internalizing what’s on the pages. To take this book idea further, our vision is used not only to read words, but also to “read” people and understand them. Let’s be blunt here. A blind person is probably damn awful at poker (First off, how are they going to know their hand?), since they can’t process the little tells that everyone has; the little tics that signal anything from a piece-of-shit hand to a royal flush. Onwards to the more “romantic”; how are we supposed to see the face of someone that you may be interested in? No, no. Not that superficial, semi-stupid, goddamn-what-a-fugly-beyotch shit, but the gestures, smiles, and faces that show, perhaps, that the other person may be interested as well?
We “need” to see so that we can appease the ridiculous amount of curiosity that whatever created us gave along with the ability to think, breathe, and not get gored by woolly mammoths. The ability to perceive our surroundings by actually processing what they are by shape apparent by the bouncing of light off of surfaces, is the only way that Homo sapiens would be able to make accurate decisions and understand, perhaps even “love”. The other senses must be taken into account, sure. And if we were never given the ability to see, whether through evolution or intelligent design, there would be a whole different story, sure. A story for another post.
(Also, I did manage to finish that Dr. Pepper as the post finished. The resulting toss into the trashcan, as prognosticated by “a current conundrum“, led to the bottle bouncing off the damn edge back to me. Fuck.)