I will focus on work now. No, wait: NOW.

But first I have to get the little people in the raincoats out of my brain.

It’s all in my head: Why bleeps and blurs don’t work for my f***ing brain.

Isn’t that amazing? I’m 36 years old and have seen one or two life-size ***s over the past 15 years, and I’m still shocked when I watch a movie where a guy holds his *** into the camera or ***s another guy’s *** with a ***. The movie was Brüno, and yes, I completely understand why some people left the theater after 15 minutes. It was offensive.
Thinking about the movie and why I felt so uncomfortable I noticed a couple of interesting things. First thing: when it comes to movies, I’m almost completely Americanized. I just didn’t expect somebody to say the f-word on screen. I have heard so many bleeps on tv recently, that I was really shocked. It’s funny because in Germany we don’t bleep. If you feel like it, you can say Scheiße and Arschloch and ficken all you want – even at prime time.
Second thing: Bleeps or blurred pictures or black rectangles don’t work. At least not for my brain. It’s like the blind spot in your eye: although you know there are parts missing, you still see the whole picture, because your brain blends in all the surrounding colors and covers it up. To me it doesn’t make a difference if somebody says the actual word or I hear a bleep, the content is still the same. To me „bleep“ is as clear an acoustical sign as the acoustical sign „fuck“. The same with blurred images: I don’t need to see every detail of a big *** slowly ***ing somebody’s ***. My brain fills in the missing parts automatically. Thank you, brain! Well, I think I’ll get over it. But – third thing - it got me thinking. If we want to keep kids from seeing or hearing explicit or violent content, is it sufficient to bleep and blur? Or does the offensive message get across, no matter which acoustical or visual alteration is used? Sometimes I feel we overestimate our mind’s capacity for dealing with irritating images. Once they are inside our head they are hard to get rid of.

Could I grant Google access to my brain?

Recently I have noticed a change in my dreams. As a child my worst nightmares were about falling off the railroad bridge in front of my kindergarten, the whirling witch who lived in the hall, and the unability to warn people of evil because I had lost my voice (analyze this!). The funny thing about the latter is that I still have dreams with the same content (no communication possible), but that instead of my silent screaming I find myself desperately texting on my cell phone, but I get all the letters and numbers wrong, there are no numbers at all, or the connection fails. To make a long dream short: I lose my digital voice. Interestingly enough those mashups also happen to me in the daytime. Where did I put the pressure cooker? My first thought is to give it a call and locate it by its ringtone. I subconsciously recognize a vibration - my cell phone? No, just a thunderstorm. Where is the book I just finished reading? My brain suggests searching the shelf with google. Is this scary? I don't think so. Actually I really, really need a strong search engine for my brain. Too many things are sitting in its dark and damp corners (like Latin, knitting or the recipe for lemon pie), inaccessible for the computing powers of my own mind. Unfortunately the buzz words "highly available", "on demand" or "scalability" don't apply to the cloud computing network that is my brain. I would love to get some support from Google here.