The Banzai Chronicles

OMFG How sad! Ultrasound scans can affect the baby's brain developement. Someone should outlaw this; it shouldn't even be legal to begin with!

I'm curious why you say this. Could you link me to some research somewhere? That'd help me understand. Thanks!

Oh, and this scan is the fMRI (the article mentions that in the second sentence)—it's magnetism, not ultrasound. So you may be responding to something very different from what I've posted here. Did you get a chance to look at the article yet?

OK, I Googled the ultrasound thing, so no need to link unless you like (I hate when people don't just look things up, so I didn't want to be lazy!). Interesting, but completely different from what I've written about here—it'd be like being opposed to eye doctors because you don't like dentists.

For anyone whose curiosity has likewise been aroused, here's an article on the ultrasound thing. Sounds like "30 minutes or longer" is an important part of the study (as is the fact that the research was conducted on mice, which have very different brains), since "a typical pregnancy ultrasound tests lasts 15 to 20 minutes."

Your mileage may vary.

God help us.

Thanks for posting this, Lee. The science is fascinating. And, it reminds me to pray a little more.

Glad to share—seeing some of the tangents in reply to your entry yesterday, I was a little self-conscious to post about this, but there's no sense digging my head in the sand. This is happening, and I can't always steer around the fact that people might have their virtual skins on inside-out about something other than life itself in relation to the unborn.

It all probably comes back to the Banzai Theorem: "When the response doesn't equal the stimulus, there must be another stimulus." I can't own other people's stuff. Sorry so much of it (bizarrely) came your way.

And I wasn't even posting about abortion!

It was bizarre, but you are correct - there must have been another stimulus.

I thought you were very kind without being drawn into…whatever that was about. Clearly, each of us is fighting a hard battle—that one just kind of bled over out of nowhere onto your journal.

One of the things I enjoy about writing online is that invites people to relate my observations and experiences to their own, but it's weird how often others can pop by with something utterly unrelated (not to mention how, in yesterday's case, you were somehow made responsible for responding to that unrelated thing). I'm often left wondering, "Did you read what I wrote, or did you just make my journal a place for your stuff? I'd be glad to point you back to your own journal or blog if you like—that's the place that's all about you. This one is mine."

Relating with one another is cool. This other thing, notsomuch.

I think it's the nature of the medium. A friend of mine recently quoted someone else: "No two people read the same book". Or something. We read and color everything with our own imaginations, biases, stresses, education and accents. (Reading Melanie with her own accent is surprisingly different from reading her with mine.)

We're bad enough at misinterpreting each other when we're face to face.

I think you're right, and I'm also starting to think it's much more weird than face to face—sometimes even the pretense of actually listening to/reading the other party is completely abandoned. When people do this in face-to-face life, the rest of us usually just back away slowly and hope they don't have access to anything sharp.

I still like the medium. I just may need to get more comfortable with responding to comments with some version of "Please read this entry" and/or "This isn't your journal," because it still feels weird to have to say those things—they seem self-evident, but they clearly aren't.

I've been spared a lot of drama because I keep my friends list down to (mostly) people I already know and I lock everything up, but even with that, every now and then things get said that have nothing to do with the words actually on the screen. Sometimes it's me taking things badly, and I've realized that there are some people with whom I just relate better in real life.

I don't know that I maintained my cool or kindness when I replied this morning. I literally woke up, rolled over and grabbed the laptop, read and replied. I may have done better to actually wake up first. Oh well!

Oh, it's still going? I'm so, so sorry—that just seems way off to me.

I just read. Whoa. Take all of my statements of "I'm sorry" and multiply them by about a thousand. That is so strange and unsettling.

I'm glad it's not just me. I thought it was weird, but when it kept happening, I worried that maybe I was the weird one.

I don't know her and already was aware of our wildly differing views, so I don't take any of this personally. Which is good, because I'd be a wreck otherwise!

Your icon cracked me up. Perfect!

I realize the "risk" I take with LJ and writing on the internet in general is the relatively open door to comments, responses, and interactions. I think of my journal as more analogous to my living room than a town hall meeting, so I'm taken aback when others respond in ways that aren't quite appropriate to that image. If someone comes in to sit down and have a chat, I'm comfortable. If they come in and start telling me where I should put the furniture (especially if it's their first visit), that's rude and a little weird, but it happens. If they decide they need to confront me as to why I've put the furniture where I have and will not stop, that's bizarre. Especially when neither I nor anyone else in the room has been talking about furniture at all.

This kind of nuttiness wouldn't work in a town hall or a living room—they'd get booted from either. Only on the internet could this behavior be considered "OK." But not by me.

I'm laughing so hard. You're being serious, I get that. And yet, it's totally hysterical.

The Tyra image shows what I'm taking close to a thousand words to say. But Tyra isn't angry. Don't judge.

We made nice. At the same time in separate comments.

How cute are we.