Brain Soup

We had a hailstorm on Monday. There were pellets of ice 2cm in diameter pounding against my window. It took some of the paint off the window frame. It took some of the window frame too (I have old crumbling apart window frames).

In town, huge gusts of winds were knocking pedestrians on their ass and construction workers off rooftops. Three elderly German tourists had to be fished out of the Vlatava. A baby pig at the Bohnice animal farm caught a strong gust and went airborne. Flew 15 meters before whacking a medical student on the back of her head. Knocked her out cold. Twenty minutes later, all was calm. People went back outside to clean up and enjoy the sunshine.

Amy was telling me about the flying pig. She used to work at Bohnice doing clinical research in Behavioral Neurobiology, or “Poking About in the Brain,” as it’s sometimes called. I was at Amy’s place in Prague 8, near the new Kobylisy Metro Station. Her and her boyfriend Pavel were having a Memorial Day cookout in their backyard. Skewered meats and vegetables, as well as pineapple, which Amy insisted was really good grilled.

Some of Amy’s vegetable garden had taken a pummeling from the ice storm. A few trays of baby lettuce, tomatoes and carrots were smashed apart, dirt and sprouts splattered on the cement patio. Some of them were badly injured, but would be eventually recover. Some would remain in a permanent vegetative state. She was still cleaning up the carnage when I arrived for the cookout.

I helped Amy gather up the wounded and repot them. Those left for dead were unceremoniously hurled onto the open grass.

“I spoke to my parents last night,” Amy said. “They hadn’t heard anything about the Downing Street Memo. Can you believe that? It’s been—what now?—three weeks since the news came out?”

Amy’s parents live in Ohio. Perhaps they don’t have news in Ohio. Listening to the BBC and European news networks we sometimes fear that stories like the Downing Street Memo, Guantanamo Bay and the discovery of Cenozoic Era cloning projects are either downplayed or never covered by the American media.

“It’s the smoking gun,” I said. “But it’s not going to make any difference. With a Republican controlled congress there’s no way he’s going to be impeached. And, really, Americans don’t care.”

Of course, all expat Americans speak about “Americans” as if we’re not ones ourselves. Talking about Americans is like looking into a mirror and not being able to recognize yourself. We like to think we’re a different sort of American, but it’s not always clear just how true that is.

Some expats believe that leaving America and choosing to live in another country is about as strong a political statement as you can make. But does that mean that by living in France, Italy, Czech Republic—wherever—we approve of their politics? Americans are great at making grand ideological justification for their actions, but what it usually comes down to, as with most people, is convenience. Like George W. Bush believing that war, fear mongering and capital punishment are Christian actions, we believe what is convenient for us to believe.

There have been interesting “split brain” experiments done in which the left and right hemispheres of the brain are divided and can’t communicate with each other. Researchers will tell one hemisphere of the brain something, like “Pick up this spoon.” Then they’ll ask the right hemisphere a question like, “Why did you pick up that spoon.” The right hemisphere doesn’t know it was given a command and it searches for a justification for the spoon in its hand.

“Ah…well…I guess I’m expecting some soup.”

Bush’s belief that his war on terrorism will make the world a better place, is a bit like saying he’s preparing for soup.