Samuel Scoville: A Whole New Mind

Monday, February 18, 2013

A Whole New Mind

A WHOLE NEW MIND

Title of a book by Dan Pink anyone can google and
listen to him talk about the schizo-phrenic split
between “left”& “right” brain values and the
linear/non-linear kind of talk that’s been popular
since the 60’s.

We are shifting from the Informational Age to an

emerging Conceptual Age —where an MFA degree

may eventually offer an environmental edge over

an MBA., says Pink, though state legislators and
test-based account-ability experts & SAT influence
and such will…

Yadda

You know where this is going.

On the one hand: you straight arrow, conscientious
critical thinking, spread-sheet artists, assessmental
geniuses, groundedGet R Done-ers, sequential &
consequential addicts, chrono-logicians, lucid rubric
schemers and good citizens .

On the other hand: not.

I had a friend who crawled though Pennsylvania fields
in the early 60’s, to prepare for his law boards.

A Dr. in Philadelphia named Delagado was having
success treating paralyzed auto-crash victims, re-
patterning their brains, activating new synapses by
starting all over with crawling —four people, each
working one paralyzed limb: going though the motions.

The Making a whole new mind.

My friend figured he might light-up new networks
re-learning to crawl.

I tried a variant —switching writing-hands left to right,

mixing the dominance convinced it would fire up my

corpus callosum, yin-yanger regulator negotiating

the hemispheres, & make me a smarter man.

It did, but now I can't get along with anyone.

No comments:

Post a Comment

Auto Bio

I choose, as a determining POINT in my life, to acknowledge a bullet fired into the armpit of my grandfather, Samuel Scoville, Jr. by a thief in the night sometime in the late 19^thc.

The thief escaped, my grandfather having pulled his own pistol from beneath the pillow, squeezing off a couple of rounds and sending the burglar scurrying into the Connecticut night...

For reasons of family notoriety, the incident was reported in both New York and Philadelphia papers. A former roommate in Philly called up Young Goodman Sam, inviting him down for a weekend gala: The Yale-Penn Football game. “You can take my sister Katherine, and chaperone me and my fiancé, he said.

In those days couples were not advised to be alone. Unaccompanied.

Sam took a steam-driven locomotive train down to Philadelphia, escorted Katherine to the leather-helmet contest, fell in love, asked her to marry him. She did & they lived more or less HAP-ily ever after, generating a tribe of offspring who like wise generated in kind so that if it hadn’t of been for that bullet, well, it’s impossible to begin to consider how unimaginably different life-as-we-know-it would have been. No one can say.

For one thing: YOU, dear Reader, wouldn’t be reading THIS HERE right now, resurrecting these words to walk around in your skull-haus this very be-here-now moment. So even you are impacted forever by that bullet.

(I could drive up to Connecticut right now, retrieve the small bite of lead, drop it in your hand and remind you how co-incidental our life is—how inexplicable, how arbitrary & selective our accounts, how much we omit which is also absolutely necessary, how inadequate our because & affects.)

The bullet is a NECESSARY but INSUFFICIENT cause of who-I-am, without which any explanation would be incomplete. Sam Scoville

Samuel Scoville