We all have mental filters which means we only register certain things. The things we do register sink, sponge-like, into a consciousness bank, to be accessed at will. As a for instance, for me it's theme tunes, advert jingles, ghost stories. I can easily tell you that the ewoks theme tune from it's short lived cartoon spin off went 'we're the e-e-e-e-eeeewoks, one big happy happy family' or that no matter what you say-ay, the muskahounds are never far away. ay. (if I'm drawing on lots of childhood things here, which I am, it's because that was the last time I watched t.v with any degree of enthusiasm).
Other things simply skate off the surface of my brain like greased wheels on ice, leaving barely a trace.
I once asked an ex-boyfriend to explain to me how planes stayed in the air. Jason began describing, in great detail, the necessary schematics needed for flight - I heard turbines, velocity, something about jet propulsion, maybe ? Then I began to wonder whether or not bees could hear themselves buzz. After a minute or two, he paused and peered directly at me.
"You're not even listening, Daisy." He said, justifiably angry, "Why ask me if you're not going to listen when I tell you ?"
"Sorry." I'd said, turning my eyes into big round baby blues in an effort to avoid an argument, "It's just not sinking in."
Jason looked at me for a moment and sighed. "It's all pixies and fairy dust and magic." he said.
"That's what makes planes fly ?"
"No, Daisy. That's what's in your head."
It's not that I don't care. I can tell you that my friend Finch works with people with learning difficulties and that Odge is running a pub. But Lenny and Alex, who I regard with equal affection and a certain fondness, I haven't a clue about. I know Lenny is in his second year at university studying...uh...something to do with music, he has told me...um...sound production ? No, it's not quite right. I know that Alex works in the City, doing something very high-pressured and important with large amounts of money for an enormous salary. But even though he's told me, I still couldn't tell you his job title.
I have a filter for finances, something I've had all my life. Again, it's not that I don't care - left to my own devices I'd be bankrupt by now - I just don't hear it. Bank statements continue to go into the drawer unopened, balances unchecked, withdrawals unmonitored. Someone tried to go through it with me once and gave up in disgust when I asked he minded if I played the playstation while he carried on.
Like I said, it's not lack of caring, or ignorance, it's just the mental filters only process really useless knowledge and functionless trivia into the portals of my mind. It's why I've got no idea how music is transferred to a c.d but I could wang on to you endlessly about werewolf legends or futurama or goldfish.
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6 comments:
Is why HSBC closed your bank account and told you to get lost?
check out my grandad's face on his own money. he rules (well, ruled)
no.
hsbc closed my account becasue i was spending money like it was going out of style and extending my overdraft into infinity and beyond.
when the man from the bank sat me in his office and tried to explain this to me i was thinking about why jefferson airplane became starship.
why, damnit. why ?
I like the idea of spending money like it is going out of style. but what would replace it?
Surely your anti-capitalist posse HAVE got a plan for that after you reclaim everything.
Well...What's the plan?
we could replace it with the currency of cornwall, pebbles.
pebbles and shells.
the anti-capitalists are very busy taking babylon down brick by brick. once they've done that i'm sure they'll have lots of sensible ideas of what to do with all the stuff we've reclaimed, like the streets.
i didn't even WANT to reclaim the streets, i thought their first album was pony.
brahahahaha i made a 'joke'
Fucking hippies...
hey, 'anonymous'.
i've never figured out your job title either - unless behaving like an utter bell-end counts as a job these days.
meh heh heh.
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