My Brain Is Freaking Me Out Again

I have a cold. Actually, I'm at the end of the cold, the part where you have a ton of congestion. For all the creationists out there that assert something cannot come from nothing, my sinuses are disproving that right now. Seriously, where does all the mucus come from? And why can't I run out?

Anyway, I'm a little freaked out by my brain right now. Apparently, my brain, or at least the part that I don't control, is completely unaware I can breathe through my mouth. 35 years out of the womb and my brain still doesn't know this.

Which it made abundantly clear by switching me to nose breathing as soon as I fell asleep, depriving me of oxygen until I woke up gasping for air.

I am not kidding you, this is what happened last night:

My brain: So, the nose is all clogged up. Can't breathe out of that. Hmmm . . . is there some other way of getting oxygen to the lungs? Something else I can breathe through? Nope, guess we'll just have to suffocate.

Me: The mouth! I went to sleep breathing through my mouth! Just go with that!

My brain: I have no knowledge of this "mouth" of which you speak.

Me: Look! I'm breathing through it right now!

My brain: I can't heeeeaaaar you.

Me: Fuck you.

My brain: Try going to sleep again. I dare you.

So, yeah, that was my weekend.

Random Notes

war, iraq, afghanistan, soldiers, ptsd, brain, injuries, torquemada, gay, marriage, tradition, traditional, homosexual, homophobia, dalai lama
When I was very little, and my older sister was ignoring me (which she frequently was), I would play this game where I would poke her, gently, until she exploded. (You know how kids are.)

I mention this because if you do anything to someone often enough, poke them, call them names, lie about them, push to legislate them into permanent second class citizens, they will eventually explode. Everyone on earth will explode in this situation, no matter how calm and good natured they are. I imagine, if you did it long enough, you could poke the Dalai Lama* into exploding. (At least a month of poking 24 hours a day. That man is calm. And happy. I like the Dalai Lama.)

Angie seems not to have figured this out yet. Perhaps she is calmer than the Dalai Lama, which I doubt, or perhaps she judges the gay community just a touch more harshly than herself. You decide.

It can be daunting and intimidating to face such a virulent, violent rage that is at the core of the homosexual movement.

You know what, Angie? I'll be happy to explain this to you. Come over here where I can poke you.

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I truly hate the use of violent words and metaphors to describe what are, or should be, nonviolent events.

Volly brought up an excellent example of this in a comment:

Back in my Christian days, I took a course at church called "Becoming a Contagious Christian." The companion book had the same title. At least twice in the book and during the lectures, the author and the class leader used the expression "Hold their feet to the fire." I didn't finish the course because of that. All I could think of was Torquemada. He was pretty "contagious" too, from what I've heard.

How couldn't you think of Torquemada when hearing that? I also hate references to "war", "battle" and "revolution" that have been flying about the interwebz lately. The US is currently involved in two real life wars (or conflicts, or whatever we're calling them these days): Afghanistan and Iraq. Real life soldiers, brave men and women all, are dying. Real people are coming home without arms or legs, coming home with brain injuries and PTSD. Real people are suffering horribly, and that's not to mention the Afghanis and Iraqis that are suffering horribly.

To compare your attempts to deny same sex marriage, or your unhappiness that the GOP is no longer in charge, with what is going on in Afghanistan and Iraq right now is comtemptable. You're not in a war. You're at no risk of dying or losing a leg or not being able to write your name. Give it up.

*The Dalai Lama has his own website! Squeeee!!