Lizard Brain Quotes

To put it simply, the lizard brain is purely concerned with survival.

I’ve come to think of my lizard brain as basically a version of Felix. It’s totally random and makes no sense and you can’t let it run your life. If we let Felix run our lives, we’d all wear superhero costumes all day long and eat nothing but ice-cream. But if you try to fight Felix, all you get is wails and screams and tantrums, and it all gets more and more stressy. So the thing is to listen to him with half an ear and nod your head and then ignore him and do what you want to do. Same with the lizard brain.

The lizard brain is hungry, scared, angry, and horny. The lizard brain only wants to eat and be safe. The lizard brain will fight (to the death) if it has to, but would rather run away. It likes a vendetta and has no trouble getting angry. The lizard brain cares what everyone else thinks, because status in the tribe is essential to its survival. A squirrel runs around looking for nuts, hiding from foxes, listening for predators, and watching for other squirrels. The squirrel does this because that's all it can do. All the squirrel has is a lizard brain. The only correct answer to 'Why did the chicken cross the road?' is 'Because it's lizard brain told it to.' Wild animals are wild because the only brain they posses is a lizard brain. The lizard brain is not merely a concept. It's real, and it's living on the top of your spine, fighting for your survival. But, of course, survival and success are not the same thing. The lizard brain is the reason you're afraid, the reason you don't do all the art you can, the reason you don't ship when you can. The lizard brain is the source of the resistance.

Tell your lizard (brain) to shut up.

And I’ve been scared, scared like never before, that I’d hurt you.” He lifts his hand. Curves it around my cheek. “That I’d left you in some—any kind of pain. That I couldn’t make amends. Which, let me tell you, is no fun when you know in your lizard brain that you’re about five minutes from falling in love with someone.” He closes his eyes. “Maybe past. Can’t really tell.

Do as she says, you wormfaced, crawling, sand-brained piece of lizard turd!

Your brain is not more evolved than a rat or lizard brain, just differently evolved.

The brain does much more than recollect. It compares, synthesizes, analyzes, generates abstractions. We must figure out much more than our genes can know. That is why the brain library is some ten thousand times larger than the gene library. Our passion for learning, evident in the behaviour of every toddler, is the tool for our survival. Emotions and ritualized behaviour patterns are built deeply into us. They are part of our humanity. But they are not characteristically human. Many other animals have feelings. What distinguishes our species is thought. The cerebral cortex is a liberation. We need no longer be trapped in the genetically inherited behaviour patterns of lizards and baboons. We are, each of us, largerly responsible for what gets put into our brains, for what, as adults, we wind up caring for and knowing about. No longer at the mercy of the reptile brain, we can change ourselves.

When you’re doing hard work, getting rejected, failing, working it out—this is a dumb time to make a situational decision about whether it’s time for a nap or a day off or a coffee break. Zig Ziglar taught me this twenty years ago. Make your schedule before you start. Don’t allow setbacks or blocks or anxiety to push you to say, “hey, maybe I should check my e-mail for a while, or you know, I could use a nap.” If you do that, the lizard brain will soon be trained to use that escape hatch again and again.

But my subconscious mind--the part I've heard writers call the lizard brain--could and did: it told me to reach for Anne Lamott or Edith Wharton or Calvin Trillin instead. And if I've learned one thing in my decades on earth, it's this: Don't argue with your lizard brain; it knows you better than you know yourself.

The goal is to quit the tasks you’re doing because you’re hiding on behalf of the lizard brain and to push through the very tasks the lizard fears. Is

Unlike most other language — which is stored in cerebral cortex, the brain’s center for higher learning — curse words are stored in the limbic system, our most basic, lizard brain level.

Right now it's as if all of our technology is basically only asking our lizard brain what's the best way to impulsively get you to do the nest tiniest thing with your time, instead of asking: in your life, what would be time well spent for you?

...if I've learned one thing in my decades on earth, it's this: Don't argue with your lizard brain; it knows you better than you know yourself.

Typical is the murderer of thought, the defiler of ideas, the jailer of genius. Typical is the synapse you’ve already burned into that genius brain of yours, and typical leads right to the lizard brain. The lizard brain wants us all to be the same. A flock of geese. A herd of cattle. Middle management. The lizard brain tells us to avoid trouble. “Don’t rock the boat,” says the lizard brain. And we listen.

I personally believe mavericks are people who write their own rulebook. They are the ones who act first and talk later. They are fiercely independent thinkers who know how to fight the lizard brain (to use Seth Godin’s term). I don’t believe many are born, rather they are products of an environment, or their experiences. They are usually the people that find the accepted norm does not meet their requirements and have the self-confidence, appetite, independence, degree of self reliance and sufficient desire to carve out their own niche in life. I believe a maverick thinker can take a new idea, champion it, and push it beyond the ability of a normal person to do so. I also believe the best mavericks can build a team, can motivate with their vision, their passion, and can pull together others to accomplish great things. A wise maverick knows that they need others to give full form to their views and can gather these necessary contributors around them. Mavericks, in my experience, fall into various categories – a/ the totally off-the-wall, uncontrollable genius who won’t listen to anyone; b/ the person who thinks that they have the ONLY solution to a challenge but prepared to consider others’ views on how to conquer the world &, finally, the person who thinks laterally to overcome problems considered to be irresolvable. I like in particular the third category. The upside is that mavericks, because of their different outlook on life, often sees opportunities and solutions that others cannot. But the downside is that often, because in life there is always some degree of luck in success (i.e. being in the right place at the right time), mavericks that fail are often ridiculed for their unorthodox approach. However when they succeed they are acclaimed for their inspiration. It is indeed a fine line they walk in life.

The cerebral cortex is a liberation. We need no longer be trapped in the genetically inherited behavior patterns of lizards and baboons. We are, each of us, largely responsible for what gets put into our brains, for what, as adults, we wind up caring for and knowing about. No longer at the mercy of the reptile brain, we can change ourselves.

I guess my lizard brain has made its peace with the fact that gravity comes and goes.

crazy in my lizard brain.

I wanted to think this was just my lizard brain telling me to copulate with a male who was a genetic powerhouse.

That voice is the resistance your lizard brain and it wants you to be average (and safe)

Eye contact, all by itself, is enough to throw your lizard brain into a tizzy. Imagine how scary it must be to set out to do something that will get you noticed, or perhaps even criticized.

Devoid of all light, the room is saturated with the anguish of Kate’s despair – a deep well of stormy emotions that seems to snake its descent into the soundless black void of the dark mother.  Down here, only silence can be heard, the heartbeat of Medusa herself.  Kate’s tears have dried on her cheeks, and she lies on her back, eyes open but unfocused as her ever-inquisitive mind desperately searches for answers.  Like the tongue of some prehistoric lizard, her brain extends itself into missiles of unfolding light, emissaries embarking on a journey of epic proportions.

The connected economy of ideas demands that we contribute initiative. And yet we resist, because our lizard brain, the one that lives in fear, relentlessly exaggerates the cost of being wrong.

A lizard never thinks something is wrong with the world, even as it watches its young get eaten alive. It doesn't tell itself "something is wrong with the world," because it doesn't have enough neurons to imagine the world being other than what it is. It doesn't expect a world in which there is no predators, so it doesn't condemn the world for falling short of expectations. it doesn't condemn itself for failing to keep its offspring alive. Humans expect more, and we do something about it. That's why we end up focused on our disappointments instead of saluting our accomplishments.

So, what’s smart? Living life without regret. Now that you know what to call the fear that has held you back all these years, what are you going to choose to do about the resistance? Now that you understand that society rewards you for standing out, for giving gifts, for making connections and being remarkable, what are you going to choose to do with that information? You have a genius inside of you, a daemon with something to share with the world. Everyone does. Are you going to continue hiding it, holding it back, and settling for less than you deserve just because your lizard brain is afraid? There lies regret. Can

You know how in our brains, behind all the recent flashy developments that gave us stuff like emotions and aesthetics and cosmic awareness, there’s this lizard brain. It’s what makes the heart beat and what stays alert to odd noises and sudden movements in the dark while we sleep. Don’t wonder where the dinosaurs went, there’s a bit of one inside each of us.

wormfaced, crawling, sand-brained piece of lizard turd!

Do as she says, you wormfaced, crawling, sand-brained piece of lizard turd! Do it or I'll help her dismember you! Can't you see the worth of this woman?

The epidemic So many people are frozen in the face of uncertainty and paralyzed at the thought of shipping work that matters that one might think that the fear is hardwired into us. It is. Scientists can identify precisely where your lizard brain lives. This is your prehistoric early brain, the same brain that’s in the lizard or the deer. Filled with fear, intent on reproduction. Steven Pressfield gives the voice of the lizard brain a name: he calls it the resistance. And the resistance is talking to you as you read this, urging you to compromise, to not be an troublemaker, to avoid rash moves. For many of us, the resistance is always chattering away, frequently sabotaging our best opportunities and ruining our best chance to do great work. Naming it helps you befriend it, and befriending it helps you ignore it.

And what we didn’t ruin, we fought over incessantly, killing each other by the millions over the centuries as our technology far outpaced our ability to keep the vestigial lizard parts of our brains in check.

Since I am not actually a real human being, my emotional responses are generally limited to what I have learned to fake. So I did not feel shock, outrage, anger, or even bitter resolve. They're very difficult emotions to do convincingly, and there was no audience to do them for, so why bother? But I did feel a slow cold wind from the Dark Backseat sweep up my spine and blow dry leaves over the floor of my lizard brain.

Emotions aren’t a bug in the programming, something left over from your malfunctioning lizard brain or incomplete childhood. You do not have these weird, unwieldy emotions that happen mysteriously to you, and you simply need to tolerate them, like that crazy uncle you have to sit next to at Thanksgiving dinner. Your emotions aren’t a mistake; they are some of the best parts of you. Feelings aren’t a design flaw; they are divine in origin.

Already many of the surrounding buildings had disappeared beneath the proliferating vegetation. Huge club mosses and calamites blotted out the white rectangular faces, shading the lizards in their window lairs. Beyond the lagoon, the endless tides of silt had begun to accumulate into enormous glittering banks, here and there overtopping the shoreline like the immense tippings of some distant goldmine. The light drummed against his brain, bathing the submerged levels below his consciousness, carrying him downwards to warm pellucid depths, where the nominal realities of time and space ceased to exist. Guided by his dreams, he was moving back into his emergent past, through a succession of ever stranger landscapes centered on the lagoon, each of which seemed to represent one of his own spinal levels.

A lizard brain fired the gun that wounded you, but it was the combination of three brains that orchestrated the elaborate circumstances in which the trigger was pulled. Way back when, the Landlord believed a second brain would endow some of his lower life forms with the capacity for emotional connections. By adding the third brain, he probably planned on having his... higher forms empowered with the ability to not only think before acting, but to feel regret afterwards when their actions were wrong. But that’s not what happened, is it?

From inside his room Reacher heard the lawn chair scrape across the blacktop, but he paid no attention. Just a random nighttime sound, nothing dangerous, not a shotgun jacking a round, not the hiss of a blade on a sheath, nothing for his lizard brain to worry about. And the only non-lizard possibilities were a lace-up footstep on the sidewalk outside, and a knock on the door, because the woman from the railroad seemed like a person with a lot of questions, and also some kind of expectation they should be answered. Who are you and why have you come here?

So my eyes spotted it and my brain processed it and rejected it instantly, on a purely preprogrammed basis. And then it hung up on it. Out of pure animal instinct. Because it looked like a snake. The lizard part of my brain whispered snake and I got that little primeval jolt of fright that had kept my ancestors alive and well way back in evolution. It was all over in a split second. It was smothered immediately. The modern educated part of my mind stepped in and said, No snakes here in January, bud. Way too cold. I breathed out and moved on a step and then paused to look back, purely out of curiosity.

The killer: our anxiety not only makes us miserable, but ruins the interaction. People smell it on you. They react to it. They’re less likely to hire you or buy from you or have fun at your party. The very thing you are afraid of occurs, precisely because you are afraid of it, which of course makes the shenpa cycle even worse. Shenpa is caused by a conflict between the lizard brain (which wants to strike out or to flee) and the rest of our brain, which desires achievement, connection, and grace. Oscillating between the two merely makes things worse. It seems that you have two choices for ending the cycle: you can flee or you can stay.

So you don’t have an inner lizard or an emotional beast-brain. There is no such thing as a limbic system dedicated to emotions. And your misnamed neocortex is not a new part; many other vertebrates grow the same neurons that, in some animals, organize into a cerebral cortex if key stages run for long enough. Anything you read or hear that proclaims the human neocortex, cerebral cortex, or prefrontal cortex to be the root of rationality, or says that the frontal lobe regulates so-called emotional brain areas to keep irrational behavior in check, is simply outdated or woefully incomplete. The triune brain idea and its epic battle between emotion, instinct, and rationality is a modern myth.

Not one word was said by Moses or Aaron as to the wickedness of depriving a human being of his liberty. Not a word was said in favor of liberty. Not the slightest intimation that a human being was justly entitled to the product of his own labor. Not a word about the cruelty of masters who would destroy even the babes of slave mothers. It seems to me wonderful that this God did not tell the king of Egypt that no nation could enslave another, without also enslaving itself; that it was impossible to put a chain around the limbs of a slave, without putting manacles upon the brain of the master. Why did he not tell him that a nation founded upon slavery could not stand? Instead of declaring these things, instead of appealing to justice, to mercy and to liberty, he resorted to feats of jugglery. Suppose we wished to make a treaty with a barbarous nation, and the president should employ a sleight-of-hand performer as envoy extraordinary, and instruct him, that when he came into the presence of the savage monarch, he should cast down an umbrella or a walking stick, which would change into a lizard or a turtle; what would we think? Would we not regard such a performance as beneath the dignity even of a president? And what would be our feelings if the savage king sent for his sorcerers and had them perform the same feat? If such things would appear puerile and foolish in the president of a great republic, what shall be said when they were resorted to by the creator of all worlds? How small, how contemptible such a God appears!

​In 2012, George Zimmerman left his home to follow and accost his neighbor, Trayvon Martin, who was walking through their gated community in Sanford, Florida. Zimmerman, who brought a gun to the encounter, shot and killed Martin because, as he said in his trial, he feared for his life. Zimmerman was found not guilty by a jury. In 2015, less than a mile from my home, four white men wearing ski masks appeared at a peaceful event protesting the recent killing of Jamar Clark by a white policeman. At least one of the four men, Allen Scarsella, carried a gun, which he allegedly described in a text message as “specially designed by Browning to kill brown people.” Protestors, most of whom were African American, noticed the four men in masks, surrounded them, and asked why they were there. They also demanded that the men remove their masks. Scarsella then drew his gun and shot five protestors. At his trial, Scarsella’s public defender explained that Scarsella fired the shots because he was “scared out of his mind.” These and other similar incidents raise some questions. First, under what circumstances is it legitimate to deliberately precipitate a conflict, shoot one or more people, and be considered guiltless because you were scared? Second, if “I feared for my life” or “I was scared out of my mind” becomes a legitimate defense, then can anyone who fears dark skin guiltlessly shoot any Black body that comes near? What about any Black body he or she seeks out, accosts, and shoots? Does your reflexive, lizard-brain fear of my dark body trump my right to exist? A Minnesota jury provided one answer to these questions in February of 2017: It found Scarsella guilty on all counts. He was given a fifteen-year prison sentence. A different Minnesota jury provided the opposite answer four months later: it found Jeronimo Yanez not guilty.

Most presidents would instantly draw a sharp, clean line between campaign operations and the use of military force. This is the proverbial “wag the dog” scenario where a president in trouble seeks to bomb his way out of it by hitting a target overseas. With no adult supervision in the Pentagon—just who is the acting, provisional, temporary, staffing-agency, drop-in SECDEF this week?—no one should put it past Trump to escalate conflicts with China, Iran, or elsewhere when some part of his lizard brain tells him that some boom-boom will goose his polling numbers. Some of my former GOP colleagues will whisper, “How dare you accuse the American president of ever using the military for…” and then drop the subject, because no matter how deep they are in the Trump hole, they know who this man is and what he’ll do. Trump proves time and again that morals, laws, norms, traditions, rules, guidelines, recommendations, and tearful pleading from his staff mean nothing when he gets a power boner and decides he’s going to do something stupid. President Hold My Beer comes from the Modern Unitary Executive Power theory, where there are no limits, no laws, and no right and wrong. I’m not saying it’s a matter of if Trump will wag the dog in 2020. I’m saying that anyone who thinks he wouldn’t is a damn fool.

The succession of financial bubbles, and the amassing of personal and public debt, Whybrow views as simply an expression of the lizard-brained way of life. A color-coded map of American personal indebtedness could be laid on top of the Centers for Disease Control’s color-coded map that illustrates the fantastic rise in rates of obesity across the United States since 1985 without disturbing the general pattern. The boom in trading activity in individual stock portfolios; the spread of legalized gambling; the rise of drug and alcohol addiction; it is all of a piece. Everywhere you turn you see Americans sacrifice their long-term interests for a short-term reward.

In most Semitic languages, ‘Eve’ means ‘snake’ or even ‘female snake’. The name of our ancestral biblical mother hides an archaic animist myth, according to which snakes are not our enemies, but our ancestors.9 Many animist cultures believe that humans descended from animals, including from snakes and other reptiles. Most Australian Aborigines believe that the Rainbow Serpent created the world. The Aranda and Dieri people maintain that their particular tribes originated from primordial lizards or snakes, which were transformed into humans.10 In fact, modern Westerners too think that they have evolved from reptiles. The brain of each and every one of us is built around a reptilian core, and the structure of our bodies is essentially that of modified reptiles.

Beatrix was right, of course." "About what?" "That you and Leo were like a pair of ferrets, a bit rough-and-tumble in courtship." Catherine smiled sheepishly. "Beatrix is very intuitive." Poppy directed a wry glance at Dodger, who was carefully licking the last residue of egg off the saucer. "I used to think Beatrix would outgrow her obsession with animals. Now I realize it's the way her brain works. She sees hardly any difference between the animal world and the human one. I only hope she can find a man who will tolerate her individuality." "What a tactful way to put it," Catherine said, laughing. "You mean a man who won't complain about finding rabbits in his shoes or a lizard in his cigar box?" "Exactly." "She will," Catherine assured her. "Beatrix is far too loving, and worthy of being loved, to go unmarried.

She looked at me with gentle indignation. She was what we have after sixty million years of the Cenozoic. There were a lot of random starts and dead ends. Those big plated pea-brain lizards didn’t make it. Sharks, scorpions and cockroaches, as living fossils, are lasting pretty well. Savagery, venom and guile are good survival quotients. This forked female mammal didn’t seem to have enough tools. One night in the swamps would kill her. Yet behind all that fragility was a marvelous toughness. A Junior Allen was less evolved. He was a skull-cracker, two steps away from the cave. They were at the two ends of our bell curve, with all the rest of us lumped in the middle. If the trend is still supposed to be up, she was of the kind we should breed, accepting sensitivity as a strength rather than a weakness. But there is too much Junior Allen seed around.

I'd laugh, only my stupid lizard brain has disabled the laugh button for now. I'm too frozen up with tension. I am owed so much laughter. Sometimes I hope I'm building up a stockpile of missing laughs, and when I've recovered, they'll all come exploding out in one gigantic fit that last twenty-four hours.

But I refused to let him go. It was not that catching the other car might give me some answers, although that was probably true. And I was not thinking of justice or any other abstract concept. No, this was pure indignant anger, rising from some unused interior corner and flowing straight out of my lizard brain and down to my knuckles. What I really wanted to do was pull this guy out of his rotten little car and smack him in the face. It was an entirely new sensation, this idea of inflicting bodily harm in the heat of anger, and it was intoxicating, strong enough to shut down any logical impulses that might be left in me and it sent me across the median in pursuit.

I want to believe that we can all agree that no human being deserves to die abandoned and alone. I want to believe that but in a world where people use drugs rather than go to a hospital where they've already been treated poorly, choose to die alone at home or next to a riverbank, I'm not so sure. America remains the only country on the planet where it's easier to get high than it is to get help. When crises pile on top of each other, humans tend to dissociate. It's hard to think about the climate crisis when you're worried about paying your electric bill. The more emotionally depleted we are, the more we revert to our lizard brains and the more inured we become to the suffering of others. 'I got traps that will hurt you and I will hunt you down.' Lizard brain warps our sense of self, it undercuts our health, and it literally turns us into victims of our own toxic individualism. 'Americans are drowning in the lack of grace, the lack of humility, the complete inability to assume well about others', my friend, the trauma expert, Laura van Dernoot Lipsky, said.

I stammer as I gawk at his sculpted chest. And his shoulders. And his arms. And his abs. My lizard brain counts the muscles. One, two, three, four, five, six, s---holy shit, you can have eight ab muscles? What the hell, I never knew... And oh damn, those V-lines along the sides of his stomach that I'm sure have a name, but I can't think of it right now. Because my brain is too busy taking in the flawless visual.

What do you call that feeling when you're certain that the world is doomed? It's one of those feelings that's physical, like low blood sugar or too much caffeine, a message from the lizard brain. But for a moment you know that it's not just you. Not just Cleveland. It's everything. We, the creatures of the earth, are really and truly fucked.

Devlin shifts, sliding a hand beneath his t-shirt to scratch an itch, showing off his abs as the shirt lifts. God. Damn. It. Fuck my lizard brain. Fuck it right to hell.

As you go through your day, there’s a kind of lizard-squirrel-monkey brain in your head shaping your reactions from the bottom up.

It’s a funny thing. When you’re tired, general cognitive ability drops. There’s scientific evidence to back that up, no question. Because you’re slacking off, some other part of your brain—the base, the lizard, the id, whatever you want to call it—tries to compensate. Eighty-five percent brain-dead, fifteen-percent instinctive genius.

The Martian Marine was like one of those cute little beach bunnies that someone had used editing software on and blown up to 150 percent normal size. The proportions, the black hair, the dark eyes, everything was the same. Only, giant. It short-circuited his neural wiring. The lizard living at the back of his brain kept jumping back and forth between Mate with it! and Flee from it! What was worse, she knew it. She seemed to have sized him up and decided he was only worth a tired smirk within moments of their meeting.

Solutions to life-or-death problems faced by our ancient ancestors while swimming in dark oceans, hiding from dinosaurs, or fighting with other Stone Age bands are built into the brain today. While the parts of the brain work together to meet our needs, they do have specialized functions shaped by our evolutionary history. To push the metaphor, it’s as if we each have an inner lizard freezing or fleeing from danger, a mouse sniffing about for cheese, and a monkey looking for its tribe.

Where are you, you worthless lizard brain?!...

Our knowledge is held not in a computer chip but in the living, thinking organism of the planet, in the bodies of plants and animals and stones and roots and rain. When “Man,” colonizer and castle-dweller, enters the swamp, he dies. But the swamp teems with life. A watery world, navigable only by boat, the shores of the swamp are constantly shifting with the tides. Our swamp represents the unconscious, the lizard brain, the root system that expands infinitely beneath the surface of the water. It’s the undifferentiated place from which all forms emerge.

Our knowledge is held not in a computer chip but in the living, thinking organism of the planet, in the bodies of plants and animals and stones and roots and rain. When “Man,” colonizer and castle-dweller, enters the swamp, he dies. But the swamp teems with life. A watery world, navigable only by boat, the shores of the swamp are constantly shifting with the tides. Our swamp represents the unconscious, the lizard brain, the root system that expands infinitely beneath the surface of the water. It’s the undifferentiated place from which all forms emerge.

The push-pull of jouissance around signs of self-destruction represented a significant advance over Freud’s thinking about why traumatized people behave the way they do. Whereas Freud understood the traumatized person’s “compulsion to repeat” as a way of metabolizing or exorcising the pain of traumatic events and thoughts, Lacan saw that repetitive symptoms are really an adaptation to a new regime of enjoyment, how a person reorganizes his or her life in such a way as to continue to derive enjoyment from something that, on a conscious level, may be despised and even (in its most extreme and pathological forms) possibly does harm. Lacan was no more interested in literal precognition or prophecy than Freud was, but his revision of the Freudian theory of symptoms and their relation to trauma is highly suggestive for an understanding of precognitive phenomena, and the ways trauma may sometimes become “displaced in time.” For instance, in many cases where disasters and deaths are precognized, even including deaths of loved ones or near-fatal perils in one’s own future, there is an implicit reward, if only in the very primitive—and hard-to-acknowledge—sense of “but I survived.” This can be a very repellant kind of reward, something appealing to a very base, “lizard-brain,” survival-oriented part of us that may be at odds with our conscious, moral, social desires and sense of self. The paradoxical connection between survival and death, which sparked Freud’s thinking but which he could never resolve successfully, in some sense boils down to a matter of semiotics: the fact that the one value (survival) takes on its meaning or value as a signal only contrastively, when paired with its opposite (death/destruction). According to structural linguistics, which was hugely influential on Lacan, all signifiers ultimately derive their meaning from their opposition to other signifiers. In life’s semiotic (or “sign language”), death or disaster befalling others is the foremost signifier of our own being-there, our da-sein. If you find yourself “traumatized” by witnessing something terrible, you have by definition survived. Dreams seem to give people dramatic and often distorted previews of those situations lurking in the foggy waters ahead.

A Bloodshot Mind's Eye by Stewart Stafford Hyperventilating loudly, Feverish visions crash in, Flinching ever so strongly, A farrago of the brain's bin. Home is sadly unsweetened, Not like old Lynyrd Skynyrd's, Fell into mashed-up bananas, Looking like a lizard's innards. On a plane crashing down fast, Door closed on a switch to cars, A parachute instantly appeared, And I woke from sleep a superstar. © Stewart Stafford, 2022. All rights reserved.

She smiles at me, revealing a missing incisor. "I know it's crazy, but it's true--ha-ha, c'mon, lovely. Sing with me. I know you know it. Don't lie." And it's true. I know the lyrics and I love Arthur as much as the next looney tune, and there is some deep lizard-brain part of me that wants to blast it all to hell and start singing along with this insane lady graveyard-shift cabbie and just sob the remainder of my mascara off and get whatever hackneyed life Advice she desperately wants to give me about being tough or soft or how to live my life as woman-hear-me-roar crap and all that shit from the Seventies.

The knowledge that he alone was making her come went straight to some primitive, lizard part of his brain and lit it up like a Christmas tree. Mine, the lizard thought smugly.

When on the last night of his lizard existence he laid his bulging brain case again in that hollow of mosses where there was the most dimness, he knew in his blood that on the morrow, when he awoke into his doom as a thinking creature, he would be old with that age which curses those who have never even for an instant been young. Tomorrow he would be a thinking creature, but the weariness was on him tonight....

The lizard part of your brain is where the fight or flight mechanism lives. It’s the part of your brain that is responsible for keeping you safe and alive. That’s its job. I so appreciate that effort. Safe? Check. Alive? Check. Happy? Totally and completely irrelevant to the lizard brain. The lizard brain is not responsible for helping you make decisions that will make you feel happy. To the contrary, it wants to keep you safe, which is many times the opposite of happy. Opening your heart and falling in love can get you hurt: Let’s not do that.

So you don’t have an inner lizard or an emotional beast-brain. There is no such thing as a limbic system dedicated to emotions.

You can see the difference between these two systems at any big pet store. Kittens, puppies, mice and gerbils constantly play around, and when they’re tired they huddle together, skin to skin, in a pile. In contrast, the snakes and lizards lie motionless in the corners of their cages, unresponsive to the environment.

No, no, no, my lizard brain screamed.

You’re smart, but you’re not smarter than dumbass lizard-brain feelings. You can still get hurt with your eyes wide open.

I am aware there is some risk to doing this. When we fail to soothe and protect white bodies, or fail to accept white fragility and white-body supremacy, some of us with dark skin get pulled over, tackled, searched, often arrested, and sometimes killed. This creates an ongoing dilemma. Many white Americans need to be confronted—firmly and compassionately—on their white fragility. Yet much of that fragility is a trauma-driven, lizard-brain defensiveness that quickly fights, flees from, or freezes out all such caring confrontation.

AI - The Whole Picture In medicine, we have a condition called oxygen toxicity, which means, even oxygen can do harm if inhaled excessively. Imagine that - we usually associate oxygen with life, yet that very oxygen can literally kill you if your lungs are overexposed to it. The same is going to happen with our brain from unrestrained use of AI. With the rise of AI, machines may or may not become sentient, but one thing is for certain - human mind will soon turn into vegetable. We became an intelligent species by solving problems, and now that we are entering a technological era where we no longer need to solve problems on our own, leaving the key physiological functions of running the body, eventually the brain itself will become a vestigial organ, like the appendix. As we no longer need to think and act on our own, the cortex will begin to shrink, quite like unused muscle, and eventually, once again after millions of years, the primeval lizard brain, i.e. the limbic brain will gain full control of the new human animal. The rise of AI will be the end of "I". But there is also another side to the picture. It's that, we cannot achieve much more, as a species, than what we already have, without the application of AI. So, the question is not whether AI is good for us - the real question is, are we mature enough to use AI for good. So how do we use AI without destroying ourselves? Here's how. Use AI to enhance capacity, not to avoid difficulty. Use AI to accomplish tasks that are otherwise impossible. Prioritize AI to solve real-life problems, not to make life more comfortable.

We became an intelligent species by solving problems, and now that we are entering a technological era where we no longer need to solve problems on our own, leaving the key physiological functions of running the body, eventually the brain itself will become a vestigial organ, like the appendix. As we no longer need to think and act on our own, the cortex will begin to shrink, quite like unused muscle, and eventually, once again after millions of years, the primeval lizard brain, i.e. the limbic brain will gain full control of the new human animal. The rise of AI will be the end of "I". But there is also another side to the picture. It's that, we cannot achieve much more, as a species, than what we already have, without the application of AI. So, the question is not whether AI is good for us - the real question is, are we mature enough to use AI for good.

Because it’s trying to keep you safe, your lizard brain would prefer that you don’t try to improve your marriage, that you don’t reach for more, that you don’t give life to the desires in your heart that have been whispering to you for a long, long time. After all, if you don’t try, then you won’t ever fail. And if you never fail, then you’ll never feel the shame or negative emotion associated with failing.

When our bodies are comfortable, well-fed, and safe, then our lower mind (aka our “lizard brain,” “reptilian complex,” or “limbic system”) would prefer to remain inactive. Though our conscious mind is well aware of next week’s looming deadline, our lower mind thinks that next week is a million years away. It lives in the here and now. The future is an abstract concept that doesn’t require immediate attention. Hence, it’s easy for our lower mind to ignore it.

Piscean consciousness,” “negative mind,” “lizard brain.

Night comes. Real night. Not just the chronological byproduct of Earth pirouetting around the sun, but a blackness that shoves the lizard brain nose first into the dirt and hisses for caution.

Neuroscientists say they can predict an action our mind has decided to take moments before our conscious mind has even decided what we think we’re going to do. The function of consciousness, they argue, isn’t to make decisions, but to rationalize them after the fact. It’s our brain’s way of explaining why we did things—a kind of public-relations office that turns our id into a rational actor and not some lizard monkey acting out of fear.

Maybe that was it—my lizard brain recognised a compatible female and forgot I had a child to look after.

The Greys are the most commonly reported alien species. They are the classic alien with large bug-like eyes, a slit for a mouth, small nose and long spindly arms and legs. They are usually around 3 to 4 feet tall. The Greys may be the “brains” of the alien races. People who claim to have been abducted usually say that the Greys don’t seem bothered by humans in pain. They are the most commonly observed aliens seen during UFO events. Nordic Aliens The Nordics or blondes are identified by those humans who say they have been contacted by them. They say they look like humans who are from Northern Europe such as Scandinavians. They are supposed to have long blond hair and blue eyes and are between six to seven feet tall. Those who have been contacted say the Nordics are friendly beings who want to observe and communicate with humans. They are concerned about the Earth’s environment and world peace. The Nordics are seen as leaders and the Greys their servants. Reptilians The Reptilians are also involved in abductions according to a few of those who claim to have been abducted by aliens. They are supposedly 5-7 feet tall, have red eyes and resemble a lizard. The Reptilians are very intelligent but also not nice. There are many frightening stories about these guys. There are many other races and species of aliens according to contactees. I’m not sure about any of these reports but I’m thinking that I’ll hope for contact with the Blondes. Reptilians please stay away!

I headed back to Shun Tak to catch the next ferry to Macau. I tried not to think too much about what I was about to do. Charging an ambush is counterinstinctive: when your lizard brain identifies the direction the threat is coming from, it wants you to run away. But your lizard brain doesn’t always know best. It tends to focus on short-term considerations, and doesn’t always adequately account for the value of unpredictability, of deception, of surprise. Of taking a short-term risk for a longer term gain.

No happiness but in virtue. No, that wasn't true. Each part of the triune brain has its own happiness. Lizard in the sun, mammal on the hunt, human doing something good. What's good is good for the land. So when you worked as if on the hunt, in light and warmth, at making a landscape--some place for people to live in for ages to come--then you were triunely happy. Surely that should be enough. But then you wanted to share it. Just so there would be someone to be pleased together with.

The tools here are most useful under pressure. First, because they stop us from only reacting. They bring focus. They help us resist the takeover of the lizard brain. They remind us what sets us apart: We think.

The Greys The Greys are the most commonly reported alien species. They are the classic alien with large bug-like eyes, a slit for a mouth, small nose and long spindly arms and legs. They are usually around 3 to 4 feet tall. The Greys may be the “brains” of the alien races. People who claim to have been abducted usually say that the Greys don’t seem bothered by humans in pain. They are the most commonly observed aliens seen during UFO events. Nordic Aliens The Nordics or blondes are identified by those humans who say they have been contacted by them. They say they look like humans who are from Northern Europe such as Scandinavians. They are supposed to have long blond hair and blue eyes and are between six to seven feet tall. Those who have been contacted say the Nordics are friendly beings who want to observe and communicate with humans. They are concerned about the Earth’s environment and world peace. The Nordics are seen as leaders and the Greys their servants. Reptilians The Reptilians are also involved in abductions according to a few of those who claim to have been abducted by aliens. They are supposedly 5-7 feet tall, have red eyes and resemble a lizard. The Reptilians are very intelligent but also not nice. There are many frightening stories about these guys. There are many other races and species of aliens according to contactees. I’m not sure about any of these reports but I’m thinking that I’ll hope for contact with the Blondes. Reptilians please stay away!

Smell and taste are processed in parts of our brains that are reactive and emotional rather than intellectual, which is one reason developing a good vocabulary of aromas is so difficult. It’s a long journey from our lizard brain way up to where language is processed.

Melon Shirt, on the other hand, has the walk and bearing and crackle of someone who is comfortable and dangerous. You can, if you are attuned to it, sense such things. You can feel it in your lizard brain, a primitive, inner warning trill that you cannot quite explain. Modern man, more afraid of embarrassment sometimes than safety, often ignores it at his own peril. Melon

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Snakes are the most widely dreamed about, most feared, most religiously significant creature in the world. A squiggle, they are believed to be the first animal ever drawn. As sea serpents they embodied terra incognita on ancient maps; they marked a “Don’t Tread on Me” barrier between the colonies and the rest of the world; they are the physical line between the Judeo-Christian notions of good and evil. No other creature figures so widely in folklore and myth. No other creature is so universally accused of hijacking the amygdala, the region of the brain responsible for flight. According to a recent hypothesis published in the Journal of Human Evolution, the shape of the human head—eyes front, large brain—stems from a desire by man’s ancestors to avoid snake predators.

In The Frog Prince, a beautiful princess drops her golden ball into a deep spring and must allow a frog into her bedroom to get it back, maturing thereby into a woman. Fairy tales and myth often place an odd creature on the path of the hero to signal an opportunity exists: turn right for good or left for evil. Of all the harbingers of change in fairy tales and myth—disfigured dwarfs, shriveled witches, even Yoda—it is reptiles (and amphibians) that are considered ugly enough without embellishment to awaken the part of the brain that listens to fairy tales. In real life, it is possible that reptiles have the power to switch off a person’s thinking brain and switch on the subconscious, opening the door to a person’s most deeply suppressed passions. Perhaps this is what makes reptiles so terrifying. Coiled at the center of the Oxford English Dictionary’s definition of the word fascinate is this: “of a serpent.” Evolved from lizards, deliverers of venom—snakes are the villains of the animal kingdom. And yet, throughout history, snakes have been recognized for their power to bewitch man, to deprive him of resistance, to draw him near.

The nursery reminded me uncomfortably of a pre-Rising thriller that Maggie had forced me to watch while we were staying at the Agora in Seattle: a dinosaur adventure called Jurassic Park, in which scientists with more brains than sense cloned enormous prehistoric predators just because they could. Maybe that’s an oversimplification of the movie’s premise, but really, who looks at a three-ton thunder lizard and thinks, “I should get one of those for the back garden”?

Other animals are not inferior to humans. They are uniquely and effectively adapted to their environments. Your brain is not more evolved than a rat or lizard brain, just differently evolved.

When we discipline with threats—whether explicitly through our words or implicitly through scary nonverbals like our tone, posture, and facial expressions—we activate the defensive circuits of our child’s reactive reptilian downstairs brain. We call this “poking the lizard,” and we don’t recommend it because it almost always leads to escalating emotions, for both parent and child. When your five-year-old throws a fit at the grocery store, and you tower over him and point your finger and insist through clenched teeth that he “calm down this instant,” you’re poking the lizard. You’re triggering a downstairs reaction, which is almost never going to lead anywhere productive for anyone involved. Your child’s sensory system takes in your body language and words and detects threat, which biologically sets off the neural circuitry that allows him to survive a threat from his environment—to fight, to flee, to freeze, or to faint. His downstairs brain springs into action, preparing to react quickly rather than fully considering alternatives in a more responsive, receptive state. His muscles might tense as he prepares to defend himself and, if necessary, attack with freeze and fight. Or he may run away in flight, or collapse in a fainting response. Each of these is a pathway of reactivity of the downstairs brain. And his thinking, rational self-control circuitry of the upstairs brain goes off-line, becoming unavailable in that moment. That’s the key—we can’t be in both a reactive downstairs state and a receptive upstairs state at the same time. The downstairs reactivity holds sway. In this situation, you can appeal to your child’s more sophisticated upstairs brain, and allow it to help rein in the more reactive downstairs brain.

…if I had assumed a beach it was because of that other shipwreck in my brain,[/] where early early[/] and from the start[/] I had figmented a sandbar the color of gold,[/] and a yellow shoal glowering with mist,[/] and rocking there a figure tugged[/] and secreted like a sculpture by tide,[/] or like the raised effigy on a coin of some overrun civilization,[/] the lineaments of its caesar’s profile swathed in undersea moss,[/] the eye of a rubbed freckle,[/] the noble nose worn to a snub,[/] conquest sea-dyed pale dead tan.[/] My father’s body lay in my brain,[/] and in the same sea-vessel[/] yet elsewhere on still another beach[/] the body of my governess spread itself flat on a flat rock,[/] sporting motionless;[/] and here is the lizard of my father’s tread, crouching;[/] and Palestine burning;[/] while beyond, in the water, as they join,[/] a book opens wings without lungs and drowns.

Worrying about offending people drags us back to the lowest common denominator Our enemies are not the digital bits that dance across our screens but the neural impulses that animate our lizard brains

This mish mash of three brains, called the lizard-squirrel-monkey brain, all trying to function at once is one reason why we’re nuts.

Oh! Curt Connors! He's my favorite." "Sorry, bombhead, are you crushing on a lizard man?" "Just his brain. His brain is dreamy. Also, the way you keep reminding me that there's a bomb in my head isn't helping my anxiety.

Love was a lizard brain instinct. A survival mechanism bred into the species that was totally separate from reason. Women were extremely vulnerable during pregnancy, and children were helpless for many years. If humans didn’t have a mechanism for cementing a pair bond, nothing would remain but selfishness and promiscuity. Certain animal species were wired in the same way. How

As you begin your own inside-out work in this area, your lizard brain will start to freak out. It’s afraid that you will have to talk about sensitive issues such as race, racism, classism, sexism, or any other kind of “-ism.” It is afraid that this conversation will make you vulnerable and open to some type of emotional or physical attack. But this fear is not real. It is just your amygdala’s ploy to get you to stay in your comfort zone.

This is Ugly,” said Geung. “He’s a different animal. He’s an animal called a dog. People call him a dumb animal because he can’t speak and because he licks his arse.” More laughter. “But he can rec . . . recognize hundreds of different scents and he can run fast. So in many ways, he’s better than us. People call me and Tukta dumb animals too. We speak and we don’t lick our arses, but most people think they’re better than us. They can be unkind. Our bodies are clumsy and we won’t live very long and our brains work more slowly than yours. We can’t be doctors and we can’t be prime ministers, but we work hard and we’re kind and funny and we say what we believe. So, my wish on this day, this happiest day of my life, is that we stop thinking we’re better than other animals and start to believe that we all con . . . contribute something different and wonderful to our planet. The tiger teaches us d-d-dignity and how to control our power. The pig gives us compost that grows our vegetables. The lizard eats mosquitoes that give us dengue fever. The fish cleans our rivers and gives up its life to feed our children. If I can have one one one . . . wish this day, it is that we all stop comparing the size of our brains and learn to see the size of each other’s hearts.” Even the evening cicadas had fallen silent.

The orientation video begins with fire and hurricane—familiar, comfortable disaster. Then, with a queer segue, the AWOOGA AWOOGA of commencing reactor meltdown. I sit in my summer suit from Nordstrom, the only new hire today, not dressed for fear in the shape of a mushroom cloud or the end of the human race. The clerk sorts through papers as though this is any work day. I believe in her eye shadow, the orange on her desk, but the siren sounds deep in my lizard brain, in my involuntary heart which has stopped and locked—the way security (explains a calm voice in the video) will lock down the gates and my chicken body

Keanu pauses for a second, his brain realizes that the lizard is talking serious again after feeding his giant shit that he pooped out of his mouth to a gathering of giggling children. Keanu crosses his arms. "I'm not killing angels.