#bizarre experiments

[toptenznet]

10 Must-Know Mad Scientists Who Went Too Far

Our newest Top 10 List can be found here: http://www.toptenz.net/10-must-know-mad-scientists-went-far.php - written by Christopher Stephens

#toptenz

[stochasticlife]

Writing a novel in 48 Hours: or How I learn to stop lying and love the process.

I haven't been very active with this blog for a long time, and for good reason: I haven't been writing.

As a writer, I tend to be highly ritualistic. I frequently claim this is due to an underlying sense of perfectionism, but in all honesty it is simply a justification for not writing. Assuming I am dependent on these nebulous factors or circumstances feels like it absolves me of fault.

This is obviously a lie.

At times I absolutely love the process of writing, but often it feels like a relentless, infuriating chore. I have discovered that the trait most strongly correlated to enjoyment is freedom; a freedom from distraction, tasks, chores, timetables, etc.

Starting tomorrow, at noon, I'll be hermiting myself in a rural cabin for 48 hours. My ideal goal would be 50,000 words, but I'll consider anything over 30,000 a success. The project I've elected to work on during this time (I'me notworking on several) is at about 20,000 words currently.

I use to take small, intense, 'writing retreats' all the time, but this was years ago. My life has become much more complicated, which is an undeniable part of modern adulthood. My emphasis on ritualizing writing developed, in part, because simply dropping everything to go write in the woods by myself for several days didn't seem like a convenient option.

But for me, it's what works.

I may, in fact, be a lunatic. I am the one that recommends burning your first novel[1] . Failure, as I have defined above by expected word counts, is in fact a very real possibility- but only by that definition. The truth is, I'm shaking myself from my inertia and getting my head back in the game, so in that sense, I can't really fail.

I do not recommend that everyone, or even anyone, seal themselves away in a remote cabin to engage in a writing frenzy. My point instead is: Find out what, specifically, 'works' for you; and I don't mean what gets you word counts- I mean what gets you enthusiastic about the process. If you don't love the process, then you are probably more interested in being a writer than actually writing.

As for my hermitage, I had considered live-streaming1 my experiment on Twitch but I figured that watching someone write for 48 hours is quite possibly the most boring thing you could possibly stream; it really isn't much of a spectacle. I will be tweeting[2] updates, on occasion, as to my progress in my experiment, and one can reasonably expect a follow up post later this week regarding any lessons learned. I may even post some of the material composed, if there is any interest in seeing what 48 hour rough draft looks like.

Suggestions, comments (constructive or otherwise), advice, recommendations, amusing anecdotes?

1 While I won't have cellular signal at the cabin in question, I will have WIFI access, which I find both irritating and oddly comforting at the same time.

[tea-and-skeletons]

Bizarre experiments - Peter

Location of Damage: Corpus Callosum

Peter began to suffer from complex partial seizures at the age of 8. His seizures were severe, despite taking antiepileptic medication; so, at the age of 20, after struggling with his condition for over 12 years, he and his doctors agreed to have him undergo a commissurotomy.

The commissurotomy involved a surgical incision of Peter’s corpus callosum. The corpus callosum is the major cerebral nerve tract that connects the brain’s right and left cerebral hemispheres together; and therefore, serves as the major communication pathway for intrahemispheric signals. Removal or damage to one’s corpus callosum would result in impaired communication between the two sides of the brain.

On one hand, Peter’s surgery was a success, as it did end up attenuating the magnitude of his seizures. On the other hand, however, Peter was left much different than before. For example, he was not able to respond with the left side of his body to verbal input. If asked to “Stand like a Boxer,” his left side would sag and appear lackluster, while his right side would behave appropriately. Because his brain had, literally, been split into two separate pieces, his left and right sides were often behaving like two separate people.

He complained that his left hand would turn off television shows that he was enjoying, that his left leg would not always walk in the intended direction, and that his left arm would occasionally begin to fight with the right side of his body. It is clear from Peter’s case that the brain works best when it is capable of functioning as a single, cohesive unit, as opposed to multiple ones.