My life-long obsession with the human brain began as far back as my Biology 101 class, Freshman year of high school. I don't even think I liked Science until the momentous day that Ms. Smith taught us about the brain through a rare hands-on opportunity of dissecting a pig brain. To me, Science seemed like a compilation of far away theories that I didn't quite "buy" without the ability to see, feel, and sense the fundamental truth that proved these scientific theories. But pig dissection day changed everything for me.
I remember my lab partner was morally opposed to the project. She refused to touch or look at the pig brain. The moment Ms. Smith put the brain specimen on our cold black granite lab table, I could smell the harsh, latex-mixed-with-vinegar scent of the preservative liquid surrounding a tiny pinkish grey, veiny brain floating in the petri dish. My lab partner, Mindy, sat next to me fuming with rage, furious that "the pig had no say" about whether or not a bunch of 9th graders sliced it's brain open after it died. "It's better than being made into bacon" I replied, in a pretty aloof manner, mostly due to the fact that I was deeply fixated on the petri dish and it's incredible contents. She scoffed at my comment, which didn't surprise me, but I didn't care. More brain for me.
From that day on, I've been obsessed with the study of the brain.
Thus began my adventure into a 20 year long love affair with what I affectionately named the Cognitive Arts. Now, as a 35 year old scientist at Cornell Medical, I've been furiously trying to contribute significant material to field of Cognitive Arts, to gain funding to continue my research. My "million dollar please fund me idea"/passion project focuses on the power of the mind to effect physical changes in the atmosphere. In partnership with a friend of mine, a true technological genius, I developed a small clip that attaches to the human ear. When wearing this clip, which triggers pressure points that engage the occipital lobe of the brain, one is able to control their immediate physical environment simply by using their thoughts. A person must only clip our device onto the right ear, use the brain to control the motion of a mouse pointer, and instruct it to "left click", which will then manipulate real objects in the physical world. The model that we have created is still in its testing phase, and there have been a FEW glitches. But overall, we are truly blown away by the effectiveness of our new gadget. We affectionately named our creation "Bacon", in honor of my old lab partner.
All seemed to be going according to plan, and we have been testing Bacon's effectiveness in all types of environments. We've tried using Bacon in our homes, and at our offices. We tested Bacon on the busy streets of the Upper East Side of Manhattan, which are rampant with radio waves from the many other technologies used by pedestrians and business men alike. We even used Bacon on the subway, wondering if the mind could shut out all distractions and focus on the object of intent, even when dealing with other stimuli in close quarters. Bacon kept sizzling.
But something happened today that truly terrified me.
I was in the process of cleaning out my grandmother's basement. She recently passed away, the last of what I call the "Golden" generation of my family. My grandmother's basement held real significance for my family and I, as it was the site of countless generations of holiday parties and family celebrations. It's walls were filled with wonderful family memories from a time that is now, unretrievable, that no longer belongs to the present. All of our older family members who used to laugh and drink inside these four walls have since passed away, and we were getting ready to sell the house. I had mixed feelings about this sale, but that's a story for another time.
As I was saying, I was furiously cleaning out my grandmother's basement, in an attempt to speed up my cleaning job so I could get back to the lab. I realized, this would be the PERFECT time to test Bacon - in a situation where I could use some assistance, give my body a break, and cut out the time it takes to physically clean and sort through memories. I clipped Bacon to my right ear and began to move and sort the objects in the basement with my mind. Using the mouse pointer to click and drag the items into organized boxes.
All was going well, until I came across a box of home videos of holidays past. I went through the motions of putting the VHS tapes into a cardboard box and labeling them, just as I did to all of the other materials in the basement. But all of a sudden, I saw the mouse pointer drag across my field of vision and click on the record player in the corner of the room. "I didn't do that" I thought.....but brushed the thought aside and continued about my task of moving the VHS tapes into the cardboard box. All of a sudden, I couldn't move the VHS tapes anywhere. No matter how hard I tried to lift even one tape into the air with my mind, the object would not budge. Bacon had malfunctioned before, but usually I could employ some mental work-around to release the block and accomplish a task. But none of the workarounds were working (for lack of a better word). Frustrated, I took Bacon off of my ear, placed it on the folding chair beside me, and decided to troubleshoot this malfunction later in the lab. "I guess I'll do this the old-fashioned way", I thought, as I physically walked over to the box to lift up a long line of VHS tapes and place them, as I had intended into their appropriate cardboard box.
After successfully moving almost all of the video tapes into the cardboard box, I reached for the very last tape. On the side of the VHS tape, was a long white rectangular label. "The First Christmas" was written in black sharpie in my Grandfather's handwriting. I paused for a moment, wondering if I was even alive when this tape was created. Looking fondly down at the VHS tape in my hands, I found myself lost in emotional memories of family stories past. I started daydreaming for no more than a few minutes when all of a sudden, the VHS flew away from my hand. It propelled forward into the blank wall ahead, and disappeared INTO the wall. WHAT had just happened!?
The lights in the basement suddenly turned off, and I was surrounded by darkness.
After some moments of terrifying silence, all of a sudden I started to hear old 1950s music playing from the record player in the corner of the room. I turned quickly around to see if someone (or someTHING) was standing there, playing a prank on me, but all I could see was the record player which was now glowing in a neon blue light. I started walking toward the record player, curious to see what prompted it to turn on, when I saw a flash of light surge behind me.
Jerking my body back around, I noticed that the wall that had previously absorbed the VHS seemed to now project a hologram of all of my old relatives, who were in 3D shapes, filling the basement. The room changed form, and began to look exactly as I assume it did in the 1950s, although the shapes inside the room were all outlined in this strange, holographic light.
What was HAPPENING!?
I looked over to see where Bacon was, and it was right there where I left it, sitting on the folding chair, but it, like the record player, was lit up in a neon blue light. Which is strange, because there are no lights in the device. I know this because I DESIGNED it.
I walked over to touch Bacon, to try to investigate why it was lighting up, but as I reached for the object, I felt a surge of powerful electric shock shoot up my right arm and cause my nerves to tingle painfully as though I had put my finger into an outlet. At that point, I saw the mouse pointer, the one I usually saw when wearing Bacon, enter my field of vision even though I did NOT have Bacon on my body. This mouse pointer was entering my natural, biological field of vision, completely unprovoked by my consciousness.
I saw the mouse pointer enter my field of vision, right-click on the hologram of my young Grandmother, who was dancing to the music of the record player with my then young Grandfather, and she disappeared. My Grandfather appeared to be dancing by himself, holding simply the air.
Where did she go?! I didn't do that!
And slowly, but surely, the mouse pointer right clicked on the holograms, one by one, deleting each hologram, causing it to disappear forever.
And once all of the holograms were gone, the music stopped.
The lights in the basement returned, but none of my grandmothers belongings were there any more. Including the cardboard box with all of the VHS tapes.
Noticing a new harsh-smelling scent, I searched around desperately around the room to find it's source, to no avail.
I looked over to see if Bacon was still glowing in that effervescent neon blue light, but our creation was no longer on the chair where I left it. In the place formally occupied by Bacon, remained only a petri dish containing a light pink liquid that surrounded a fiercely bright red, pulsating human heart.