The sense of being.

Kinda makes one wonder doesn’t it.  This thing called sentient.  Hearing it used makes me think of Science Fiction…but it really isn’t Sci Fi.  It’s real.  They just like to banter it around.  Seeing the chimps around the stone in the movie 2001 a Space Odyssey, kinda brings it to mind.   Years ago, one of my referring men, Dr. Lem Griffin would bring 16 mm movies to the house for us to watch.  I remember them so well.  One was a for real trephining (making a hole in the skull) to let out the “bad”.  The movie was made for a drug company but the situation was real.  I don’t remember where it was, but it showed aboriginal people actually performing the surgery.  Choosing and then sharpening the brass blade on a stone and spitting on it to help hone it to a sharp edge.  Then the witch doctor washed his hands in a basin of water, that he also spit into while washing.  Then they brought the patient, a woman looking like in her 20-30 range and sat her down propped on one side by a stone.  They cut and scrapped and packed the bleeding away with green leaves.  The woman did not cry out..there was no anesthesia.  After a while she was allowed to get up and walk around and drink something, then she sat down to continue with the procedure.  It was real.  Since then, I have tried many times to get that movie and been told I could not get it.  (I assume it had to do with being politically (or otherwise) correct.))  It was certainly a far cry from the trephining of today.  Odd that I just happen to have two instruments that were used to make burr holes in the skull.  I never had a chance to use them…and hopefully I’ll put a photo of one in here.

I REally wish I could remember the name of another he brought. They were at the Tampa Public Library and I’ve even called there but they no longer have them.  This one, in black and white with sound…starts out almost pitch black with murmurs of men seeming to come around in early morning.  In a woods as the light increases and now we understand they are in our Civil War and one of the men is chosen to be a scout.  The woods are damp and foggy and he makes his way to a small gully where there is a partly demolished stone building on one side and perhaps less than 100 yards away on the opposite side of the gully is a group of men with a cannon.  He crawls to the stone building and makes his way to where he can see unobscured and still hidden.  The men on the other side could be heard in the crisp morning air and he just watched them for a while, but then he discovered why the stone building was in the condition.  They were using it for target practice with their cannon.  There was a loud cannon shot and all went black.  Then…as things start to come in to focus,  we hear the buzzing of a fly.  We realize that the shot has hit the building and it has fallen down on our soldier who is now positioned with his body totally trapped except for his hold on his long rifle with the end of the barrel at his head and as the focus travels down the rifle, we see his hand barely able to reach the trigger.  A day passes and in the next morning the fly is louder and the poor soldier is realizing he is totally trapped.  He pulls the trigger and all goes black…but then the fly is on his ear with a trickle of blood coming out of his ear.

We are sentient people indeed.  How the hell did that happen?  God.  Likely but there are logically other answers.  I’ll let you decide for yourself.  A series on TV called Ancient Aliens is an intriguing series for you to ponder.  Some of it is just stupid, but when we absolutely know there are such fantastic things on our planet that are without question man made…but we know absolutely nothing about them.  One does wonder.  My whole life has been knowledge and science based.  I’m easily intrigued. 🙂

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One Response to The sense of being.

  1. Dr. Rodney L. Griffin ( Lem) says:

    Dr, Bob… Your memory is still sharp, and my boys and I still speak fondly of our memories of events and escapades wrapped around your ever changing ideas. Keep up the Tardis tales! Lem Griffin

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