Today started out with a question: Why does my brain keep and store apparent useless pieces of information? I was asking this question because over breakfast I suddenly recalled two words: Nurgle, and Nongo. These were words that I had come across many years ago as a child whilst reading a copy of the Beano - specifically, the Bash Street Kids. I can't remember the plot line of that particular weeks humorous adventures, but I believe that the "kids" had written to various countries asking if they could visit, and they were reading the responses all of which were negative. Amongst the better known international words for "no" - "Non" (France), "Nein" (Germany) etc. there were these two words, Nurgle and Nongo. At no point did I wonder if they were actually the word "no" in some foreign tongue, I knew that they were made up. Incidentally, I have Googled both these words, and found that Nurgle is in fact the God of Decay, and one of the four major Chaos Powers in the (apparently) popular game Warhammer. Nongo, on the other hand is actually an Acronym for Non-governmental Organisations.
But why had I subconsciously retained these two words? Their appearance in this post has been their only useful contribution to my life thus far, and I can not foresee any possible scenario where recalling them would be an advantage. This thought process ultimately led to the main question; why do we store these random snippets of information, rather than discard them once their usefulness has expired? Everybody has knowledge of such things rattling around in their heads, but why?
I remember my dad having jars and jars full of screws, nails, bolts, and nuts alongside bits of wood and old carpet stored in a shed. He said that he kept these items 'just in case' they were needed - is that what I am doing with these tit-bits of info? Will I one day be grateful that I knew that the first time we see Rocky Balboa fighting in "Rocky", in that dingy old hall, he is fighting a guy called "Spider Rico"? Will the fact that Goats do not eat everything, and in particular do not like peppermints (as witnessed on the School Trip to Germany in 1982) be just the information I need to save my life?
Of course, there is the Quiz Night response - yes, a wide spectrum of knowledge is useful when entering a quiz night - but the knowledge required for that is not randomly collected, it is obtained more through structured learning I think.
There's nothing we can about it - when fishing boats trawl the ocean for cod, or mackerel, or tuna invariably when the net is emptied, you always find a crab or two in there. It is the same in life: as we trawl the ocean of knowledge, we sometimes drag up a shopping trolley.
I had a busy day at work today - I was the only one in the office, and had a list of jobs I wanted to achieve. So of course, right from the word off I was interrupted. First it was the office phones - the world and his wife rang to ask about deliveries, if a parcel had arrived, ask me for information. I swear that on a normal working day, when everyone is in the office, the phones don't ring as much. I was conscious of the time, as I had booked a collection of 14 pallets which I had to load, wrap, and do the paperwork for - so I didn't want to stay chatting on the phone. After about an hour or so, I managed to get out into the warehouse and crack on. I had booked the collection for 3pm, knowing that this would give me enough time being on my own to prepare the order and paperwork. I was very specific - I told the haulier 'the goods will not be ready for collection until 3pm'.
Imagine how pleasantly surprised I was when the hauliers lorry arrived at 11:30. In spite of of the fact that they were early, I now felt like I was keeping them waiting, and proceeded to rush about like a mad fool. the more I rushed, the more bad tempered I got. Colourful language was used - only to myself I hasten to add. So there I was, running about, cursing and muttering under my breath like Gollum with Tourettes, and then just to improve things, I had a couple of deliveries. And of course, because the sun was out, everyone wanted to stop and chat. I wanted to scream at these people "go away, and leave me alone! I don't care if your lorry got hit by a Tractor, and your wing mirrors got pushed through the door window of your cab - can't you see I'm busy!?" - but having been brought up to be polite, I simply smiled and ground my teeth.
Eventually, everyone got sorted. I haven't got to do everything I wanted to do today, but I'll get it done tomorrow - providing the rest of the world stays in bed.
Days like the one I've had today, often invoke my "sod it" reflex, and I buy myself a large quantity of Chocolate. I must admit however, that the "sod it" reflex is not just brought on by stress - it can be triggered by a number of factors including: boredom, proximity to the retailer, a day of the week that ends in the letter Y - all sorts of things. In fact only last night I had a 400g bar of Cadbury's Dairy Milk. Usually, a bar of this size will take me approximately 6 minutes to eat, but last night I really struggled, and it took me a good hour to polish it off. In addition to this, I didn't really enjoy it. Now it could be that the fact that prior to eating that chocolate, I had already consumed a large bag of crisps, and my dinner (roast chicken breast with vegetables), which had affected my capacity eat such confectionary - but I also wonder if it is something else....
Up until quite recently, I have munched my way though chocolate at any time of the day or night with no problem. However, I am wondering if with the passage my time my metabolism is struggling to keep up with my sweet tooth. Basically, I'm wondering if one day I'm going to start piling on the pounds at a horrendous rate, and will turn into one of these 600lbs behemoths, that you see on the Jeremy Kyle show, talking to the host via satellite from their bed, which they have been a prisoner in for the past four years. Will I end up being hoisted out through a window by a crane and buried in a skip? That will never ever happen - because I live at the end of a narrow alley way off a main road, and you'll never get a crane down there.
If end up dying monstrously obese in my bed, a huge mass of flab and bed sores, just fill the whole place with earth, board up the windows and doors, and that will be my tomb.