001: On the Coordination of External Stimuli

It strikes me that the explanation for my rather profound uncoordination is that my hands and feet are simply too far away. It is just not possible to adequately monitor all of their activities. I do not fault the necessary time delay which must occur during a neurological signal transfer between my brain and my limbs. Rather, I blame perception.

On the whole I am either so transfixed or troubled by the external world that my conscious mind has chosen to cede the control of my hands and feet to the unconscious. The plan, and obviously I'm guessing here, is that while the conscious mind is fixated on important, cartesian dilemma type matters, the unconscious is supposed to monitor all incoming data and react accordingly. The breakdown in this system would seem related to the observation that my unconscious mind is apparently too enthralled with perception to be bothered with a dull task like mere limb monitoring.

Requiring greater resources in order to do god knows what with all the colorful incoming raw materials my unconscious in turn subcontracts the hapless regulatory functions of my body, trusting such critical acts as motor-control and object-avoidance to the lowly lizard brain. Ill prepared to do much more than track small isolated gnat-like items and occasionally slither or dart in response, the reptilian lobe does its best to maintain some sort of corporeal decorum for the whole of the body but in the end we are left with a kind of odd, fast elegance that while mesmerizing to onlookers is not ultimately optimized for a theoretically evolved existence.