Sander Vanocur, and Neuronal Half-Life

Living in the Information Overload, even a social nihilist can wonder at the fired together, wired together neurons that reside, meaninglessly in the liminal individual subconscious. There must have been a trigger in some half-read piece of flotsam, but there is not much good reason for the absurd name “Sander Vanocur” to arrive at the forefront of waking consciousness.

San-Van was a second-rate NBC reporter, a business/news type, during the Golden Age of white male television news, its avuncular, high culture times of Collingwood, Severeid, Mudd that commanded the cultural pinnacle. Now, in these corporatized non-present where the evening news is much better to be avoided, there is no reason for me to retain a neuronal imprint of the poetic microphone holder, but my info’d brain, our info’d brain, will retain these incoherent packlets of name, image, insufficiently remembered, but doggedly retrieved by the assaulted neofrontal cortex.  Free association, as done by the unfunny un-comic Robin Williams, is a pathetic  imitation of the pinging, discarding, wildly percolating jarring phantasmorgic boomer mind, suffused with the fun, but bizarre cultural totems of the past: George Goebel, Walter Hickel, Yvette Mimiuex, Pablo Cruise, Bill Cartwright.


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