As bowling bipedal monkeys we have evolutionary fantasticness sitting on top of us at absolutely all times, a veritable crown inside our cranium: our radical brain. But that shit gets heavy after a while and not because it’s all that big. No, the weight comes from the babbling brook called consciousness and the competition it causes between our cerebral cortex divides. Sure it’s easy enough for the occipital lobe to deal with visions of Jersey Shore and for the temporal lobe to pick out a ringtone. But things get complicated when the frontal lobe and it’s dopamine-rich landscape gets overloaded by the glint of oily flesh and longs for Cosmic Tones for Mental Therapy or when the parietal lobe gets demanding and wants to nap instead of making your thumbs work while texting. So this week members, it’s your sworn monkey duty to become something of an airhead and alleviate the nattering on the lobal front. Tune out, turn off, and drop in on the drogulus that’s obsessed philosophers for centuries: thinking and therefore aming.