Thursday, June 18, 2015

I am Joe's other Eye

You must have heard about Joe from old Reader's Digests and old English textbooks. You know, the series of articles where the human (Joe's) organs describe and speak about themselves. But truth be told, it's seldom the whole truth over there. Let's just say, Joe isn't your average Joe, he does stuff. Secret Stuff.

No other organ in Joe's body can equal me. No larger than a Beer-Pong ball, I have millions of electrical connections and can handle 1.5 million simultaneous messages. I gather 80 percent of all the knowledge Joe absorbs, 80% of THAT knowledge makes me sleepless at night. He thinks of me as a miniature Tv camera. I consider the comparison insulting. I am much more sensitive than the biggest, costliest TV camera ever made, but Joe gives more importance to his tiny bathroom-spy camera. I am responsible for one of the greatest of all miracles - Sight. 
But who'll explain to Joe that Sight doesn't always have to be XXX Sites!!

Today's world is giving me a hard time. I was not built for it. For Joe's prehistoric ancestors, the eye's main job was to see things at a distance, danger to be avoided, game to be killed. Today Joe has a 6 inch phone at 17 inches, a 17 inch netbook at 10 inches and a 10 inch Tab at 6 inches from my face. All this just for his stupid 5 inches.

When Joe looks at a girl, the light passes through my lens, which brings her babylons in correct focus on my retina, which covers the rear two thirds of my interior. While Joe sees with me, he sees in his brain. A crushing blow at the back of his head, severe enough to destroy the optical center of his brain, would produce permanent blindness. A lesser blow (You know) and he sees “stars” - a chaotic electrical disturbance. Joe gets clinching evidence of the brain's role when he dreams. He "sees" the horrid stuff, even with my lids closed in total darkness, not to mention that he 'feels' too . Had he been born blind, he would dream in terms of other sensory stimuli: touch, sound, even smell, and at least have had a chance to go to heaven.

When he was young, Joe used to read magazines in dim light. His mother warned that he was "ruining" his eyes. Nonsense. The young see better in dim light than adults; and viewing under even the most adverse circumstances does no harm. That's what I thought, in reality, this gave him a heads up on life, magazines and uncensored pages. Now Joe's ruining everything except his eyes.

I try to ward off fatigue by resting as much as possible. I get time oh when Joe blinks. And my partner and I spell each other. For a while I may carry 90 percent of the work load, while Joe's other eye loafs; then it goes to work and I rest. Some days are more restful, when Joe uses his pocket telescope to spy on the motel rooms down the street. It could go on for hours, or minutes, depending on the viewing angles. Other days are hell, why when Joe gets stoned, for example. I get a bit tipsy, but I'm used to it now.

Nature gave me superb protection, placing me in a bony cavern with protruding cheekbones and forehead to act as shock absorbers for direct blows from, well, almost everyone Joe knows. She also gave me hypersensitive nerves to activate the alarm if there should be a potentially damaging intruder such as the smoke from his hashish and...wait a second, strike all that, hypersensitive when high? Who am I kidding! Period.

Both my cornea and my lens-normally totally transparent tissue--can cloud and lead to blindness. If it is the cornea, Joe can regain sight with a corneal transplant. If it is the lens, he will need a cataract operation, and either thick eyeglasses or contact lenses afterward. Fortunately, Joe has so far escaped all these diseases, but his disorder of winking at girls at bus stops is really gonna get him one day. Just the same, I am growing old--like Joe's other organs. The transparency of my lens is lower, accommodation muscles are weaker, hardened arteries are diminishing his already black blood supply to my retina. These processes will continue, but Joe should not worry unduly. The odds are heavily in favor of my providing him with serviceable vision as long as he lives. And hey, with the levels of impurities in his blood and his sizzling Lungs and liver, I think I'll be having a very early retirement.