Anyway, I've got your attention. It's a great album, and it's a great (but insanely difficult) book, but it's not all that much to do with what I'm going to write about. Earthy subjects are obviously very good at attracting a read, but we just have to face it. We live in a sensual world - one that appeals to our senses, and, be honest, that ultimately leads to the continued propagation of life on this planet. I meet plenty of poor souls who aren't willing to appreciate their sensuality. Fortunately, I'm not one of them. Don't worry, for those of you of a nervous disposition, I'll keep it 'clean'.
Sight. Pretty remarkable, when it comes down to it. If it was a TV, it'd be some ridiculous number P with a million to one dynamic contrast ratio, or whatever that latest techno-blub is. Your visual cortex delivers data to the brain at speeds that would make the internet cry. And, behind it all, an amazing piece of wetware processes it all and somehow manages to solve partial differential equations so you can catch a ball. Don't even try to break it down, just appreciate it. Color. Shape. The face of a child. A flower. Being lost in someone else's eyes. Sunsets. Moonlight. The world is full of beautiful things, beautiful people. Take the time to stop and look at them.
Sound. Compressions and rarefactions in the air all around us somehow, remarkably, have texture and timbre, envelopes and even emotions. String those sounds into words and perhaps humankind's most significant achievement - communication through language - appears; shape them into music, and our most potent form of entertainment emerges. I don't care much for TV. The computer, I can possibly live without (well, for a short period, anyway). Don't try to take away my music. A song has the ability to capture a moment in time and embed it forever in your memory. More physiological effects send you whistling, humming or even singing through the house as you push the vacuum cleaner. Sometimes, music inexplicably makes you gyrate other body parts. Anyone can dance. Everyone should.
Taste. Bit of an ewww-to-mechanical-and-biological one this. Evidently at some point it was determined that creatures would probably find it easier to remember to sustain themselves if it was a pleasant experience as well. (OK, it isn't always). Everything could taste like chicken, I suppose. This is one of those things though where you owe it to yourself to try as many different tastes as you can. I perish the thought that my kids could grow up thinking that "exotic" is putting a pickle on a hamburger, or a "treat" is soft-serve ice-cream. Flavors can take me to exotic places; they can also take me home. In a world where the rule is make the meat taste of nothing, and standardize the sauces, we can do much better. Although a hamburger can be blissful, too :)
Touch. I loved watching Robin Williams in Bicentennial Man. The android comes home, proudly tells his would-be human love that he is "now in proud possession of a central nervous system", and he asks her to slap him about a bit. (It's a brilliant movie, provided you have hankies at the ready). To have an entire body surface covered with millions of electrical receptors, in some places several thousand to the square inch, and not to make the most of it seems a bit of a waste, doesn't it? While my air conditioning has been down, I've been surrounding myself with oscillating fans. Having those run up and down me all night has been... exhilarating. Sometimes in sync, sometimes not. This is one I'd better cut short before I get into too much trouble.
Smell. This one is vastly underrated, associated with negatives, and, let's face it, the human olfactory system is pretty lousy compared to much of the animal kingdom's. A dog can identify every other dog in the neighborhood from within three feet of a fire hydrant. But scent is one of the most utterly evocative of all the senses, capable of triggering a stream of memories. A Yale University study found that the smell of Crayola crayons is one of the 20 most recognizable scents to American adults. Freshly-cut grass is another favorite. A sea breeze recalls a first love, from a vacation that's decades ago. Even in a crowded room I can tell if there's one person in it wearing Elizabeth Taylor's Passion. Rosemary grows outside my front door - a scent that means home. I bought me one of those little aromatherapy diffusers from Wal-Mart. Lavender heals. Peppermint cools. Tea tree invigorates... the list goes on.
And more? Perhaps, yes. Your brain is a significantly clever piece of hardware, capable of synthesizing minimal cues, comparing it with its previous database of knowledge, wisdom, and experience, and coming to some otherwise quite inexplicable conclusions. Entire societies have dedicated millennia to seek higher states of enlightenment. There's another post in itself.
Every once in a while, all of these come together, brilliantly, satisfyingly. Something as simple as a rainstorm, simple, perhaps, powerful, certainly, valuable, undoubtedly. I feel those "change in the weather" twinges in old wounds, my sixth sense I suppose, and rush out to see the clouds break, hear the rumble of the thunder, smell the rain, feel it trickle all over me, even taste it. This, quite simply, is what it means to be alive. Welcome to the human condition.
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