Brain Power

A thought:

The body is a machine. Complicated, organic and fragile, yes; but a machine.

Every bone is a piece of a frame which gives the body shape. Every muscle is a plaster which defines that shape. Every inch of skin provides protection, like the wax on an expensive car.

The body has mechanical systems, tendons pulling at muscles pulling at fingers, providing motion in every limb and digit. The body has chemical systems, veins and arteries pulling oxygen from the lungs, the heart pumping it around to each cell. The body has plumbing systems, separating waste from fuel and disposing of it efficiently.

And the body has electrical systems, each nerve sending and receiving pulses of energy to and from the brain. Every spec of light we see, every grain of sand we touch, each sound and taste and smell are translations of electrical impulses provided by our bodies' sensory equipment.

And the brain, like the motherboard of a supercomputer, analyzes these impulses, computes an appropriate response, and gives the order. We flinch away when we feel the heat of the stove top on our hands; we salivate when we smell the brownies baking within. We react because we are programmed to react. Those with bad programming do not survive.

What, then, is music? Why do we feel overwhelming calm when we hear DeBussy's "Claire de Lune", feel sadness at a Chopin nocturne, or feel alive with Carl Orff's "O Fortuna"? Normally, the sound of cannon fire would make one alert or fearful; why, then, do we feel powerful during the "1812 Overture"?

But more importantly: from where, then, does music come? Where, among each electrical impulse telling him that the light was dim, the room cold, or the wine deep and rich, did Beethoven find his "Moonlight Sonata"? From where did Liszt or Bach create their many works? From what experience did the child Mozart, age 8, find the inspiration for his first symphony?

Where, for that matter, do we find poetry? Where do we find cartoons, or flower arrangements, or knock-knock jokes, or philosophy, or fine Italian cuisine? These are not reactions, but creations, works of conscious thought generated spontaneously by a piece of electronic hardware.

In all the complex precision of our brains, in all the meticulous engineering that controls each system with perfection, where do we find the mind? Where does it come from? Why is it so unique to every individual?

And why can't it be controlled?