I’m not coordinated enough yet to eat soup and read simultaneously.
Like the guy above, I can’t even manage to remember things fresh out the nuker are magma level hot.
Which is ironic, I suppose, considering that my too-stupid-to-multitask non-quality drives me to hunt for something brainy on T.V. if I’m outta good documentaries to watch. Thus, lately, my go-to’s been “Brain Games”. The commercials give me just enough time to ruminate on what the answer might be to a teaser before launching into yet another Walter Mitty-esque adventure with anthropomorphized farm animals rowing down the river with me.
For example, consider the “Fox, Chicken, Grain” brain teaser:
You’re a farmer who’s got a chicken, a fox, and some grain all on one side of the river. Each must make it to the other side in your rowboat. You can make as many trips as you like – but if you leave the chicken with the grain, he’ll munch it up. If you leave the fox with the chicken, he’ll nom him up. So… how do you get everyone to the other side? Alive?
Natch, they went to commercial immediately, and my brain automatically decided that, duh…
I’d just do the same thing I do with my groceries:
“Yes, this IS all for me, thank you.”
I mean, why can’t we all just go over in one trip? If my presence with them on this side’a the river is keeping everyone from eating eachother, then why wouldn’t that work in my rowboat? I mean, worst case scenario, is that we start to traverse the river and all drown Oregon Trail style ‘cause the fox has been copying my dog’s diet for too long and his fat ass sank us, the bastard. Or they start arguing.
“Are we there yet? Can I eat the chicken? I’m gonna eat the chicken…”
“CHIRRRUN! I swear fo’ GOD if you don’t stop, I’ll turn this boat around!”
Then, I’d have to do what all parents do to shut up their kids these days – give them food to entertain them. So the chicken would eat the grain I gave him to STFU, then fox would complain “Why don’t I get anything! It’s not fair!” So I’d have to feed him the bird, obviously. Then, I’d be hungry from all the hard work of parenting and need to eat the fox – which would mean relapsing from quitting meat, which would then lead to total relapse of all the chemicals I’ve sworn off too. I’d have to give up farming and move into a halfway house.
But why did my brain think that – instead of the actual answer? I think whenever someone says “as many trips as you want”, I assume they’re trying to trick me by making it sound like I have a ton of trips as an option, so I should use that. Thusly, my mind wants to go in the opposite direction and think – what if, ya know, ain’t nobody got time for a buncha trips? Despite knowing that my singular trip would ultimately lead me into toothless homelessness somewhere in the backwoods without a farm animal or sack of grain to my name, I tweeted my answer the host himself, Jason Silva. I wasn’t really expecting a reply.
But by then, the commercial was over.
The answer, the show said, was:
Take the chicken first, then the fox, then the chicken back, bring the grain, then go get the chicken again.
It just seems illogical. Like a waste of energy if you’re a farmer. Gotta reserve that energy to tend the land later! Or keep everyone from eating each other whenever you get to where you’re going next. At the very least, you could just keep the damned chicken in the boat when you go back to get the grain. Also: who’s going to watch them on the other side of the river? Is your farm there? Do they have leashes? I’d officially morphed into a two year old when Jason Silva did indeed reply.
Kinda:
I’m taking that as a “yes”.