Door Jams

"What'd I come out here for?"

A friend sent me an email with the tongue-in-cheek observation that "now I can sleep at night!".

That she has a single sarcastic bone in her body; there're dozens of 'em.

Anyway...the moro....er....profs of the Psych Dept at Notre Dame seem to think they've figured out why, when you walk from one room to another, you forget why you did.

And if you thought it's cuz you're getting older, ixnay on the agenay.


Here's the original email as I got it:


Subject: : It's the door

Phew ... I thought it was me.

It's the door!

Whew! What a relief to learn this...

Ever walk into a room with some purpose in mind, only to completely forget what that purpose was?

Turns out, doors themselves are to blame for these strange memory lapses.

Psychologists at the University of Notre Dame have discovered that passing through a doorway triggers what's known as an

event boundary in the mind, separating one set of thoughts and memories from the next.

Your brain files away the thoughts you had in the previous room and prepares a blank slate for

the new locale.

So it's not aging, it's the damn door!

Thank goodness for scientific studies like this!

　
I guess upon reading this, I should have thanked goodness. It’s always been the door’s fault.
According to libtards, I thought it was Dubya’s.


Anyway, having had this ‘splained to me by the good time/money-wasting folks at Notre Dame’s Psy ward, I found this strange, irresistible itch to not let a sleeping door jam lie.


Thus, the study took on a more "me" appearance and thrice-concussed philosophy:

　
Subject: : Your Door Is a Jar

Phew ... I thought it was a door!

It's a jar!

Whew! What a relief to learn this...

Ever walk into a room with some purpose in mind, only to find yourself inside a jar of pickles?

　

Turns out, auto manufacturers from the 1970s are to blame for these strange door/a jar metaphysical clusterf**ks.

Psychologists at the University of Dotre Name have discovered that (1) the government will award grant money to study about ANYTHING (2) a flushed toilet tends to smell better than a filled one (3) telling a man who needs to pee to go into a round room and pee in the corner always results in frustration and wet pants (4) and when auto manufacturers installed the audio warning "*ding*..your door is ajar", drivers who argued vociferously with their cars -- only to find the audio warning was adamant, unrelenting and persistent -- found that they were subconsciously worn down and had this bookmarked in the same part of the brain that tells men that the answer to a woman's question "is my butt getting fat?" must always be "no, dear". Researchers say that this is the "oh, what the f**k ever" trigger -- also knowd as a mind f**k -- that the brain experiences after just such an argument occurs.

Whereas a jackwaogned event boundary in the brain is crossed when event questions and answers are cross-circuited resulting in situations like:

She: is my butt getting fat?

He: no dear, it's a jar...

..and he spends the next week in the dawg house, cursing the car.

Your brain files away the thoughts you had in the previous experience and prepares a blank slate for the next experience. Unless you're a man, then sometimes certain primal programming -- sex, food, football -- creates what is called a "mind f**k conjugation" or "mental misfiling", leading to a verbal faux pas.

That's "stepping on your crank" for you low information voters out there.

So while you might be tempted to blame a mind f**k on things like aging or excess gas from burritos, it's not aging...it's the damn "*ding*...your door is a jar.." effect from 1970s GM!

　

We return you now to your regular email.

　
If this post makes no sense to you, and you were born after the annoying "*Ding*...your door is ajar.." thingee had been dispensed with by auto manufacturers, you’ll probably have to wait for nobama’s Brain research nonsense to find out why you walk through a door and forget why or where you left the keys you just forgot you were looking for, which you’ll remember when you walk back through the door.


Unless you’re a guy and were thinking about food, sex or football.