Thursday, 9 August 2012

It's not what it looks like!

After being mightily cheesed off for the first few hours of today having been awoken by the milkman and his stupid electric hairdryer on wheels at 4.30am, and then kept awake by the cock down the road, I have mostly been spending my day relaxing in the sunshine and thinking about Pareidolia. As you do. Pareidolia is, according to the wisdom of Wiki, a "psychological phenomenon involving a vague and random stimulus (often an image or sound) being perceived as significant.". The Daughter does it all the time - "That cloud looks like boobies!" or "My half eaten sandwich looks like a bum!". A perfect example is the backdrop to my blog - a photo of the spud I found that looks like a  heart. 'Why have you been thinking about this Bobs?' I hear you ask. And I shall tell you. For the past 5 years, my daily hair/face wash has been dominated by a knot in the pine on our bathroom door. At first it proper freaked me out and I could see how all of those people who've seen Jesus' face on a slice of toast and Elvis in a damp patch in the bathroom must have felt. To see it from my perspective, you need to tip your head upside down as though you're washing your hair. Well, go on then!

See! A face! To me it looks a bit like Morph - that plasticene character, or at night time when the light isn't so good it looks like Pete Postlethwaite. Cognitive psychologists will tell us that humans are pre-programmed to see human faces in things even when we're babies, which makes sense. And by a further stretch of the imagination you can see why people with religious faith - especially in the good ol' USofA - so often see the Virgin Mary in taco shells. I can't say I've ever seen the face of Our Lord in a crumpet, or Mother Theresa in one of the Boychild's dirty nappies. But I have seen a romantic potato, and this - what do you think this says about me?

If any of you tells me you don't see a carrot with a willy, I'll show you a liar! You perverts. If anyone can top that, I would love to know. Until then, I'm off to raid the salad drawer for radishes that look like nipples..

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