Showing posts with label Robert deNiro. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Robert deNiro. Show all posts
Tuesday, May 13, 2014
Thursday, February 2, 2012
The brain fetishist
Oliver Sacks, Oliver
Sacks
Your books are
curious to the max.
Whenever I see one
on the shelf
I want to read HIM
and nobody else.
Why? you may ask. Why?
Why? Why? Why? Why?
‘Cause on the human
race he does spy.
He seems like an
android, he probes and he queries
As if he’s just some guy out picking strawberries.
When his stuff on
the brain gets really bizarre,
I just want to drive
far away in my car.
He writes about
migraines and tumors and things,
And music: that guy
with no memory who sings!
He writes about autism, he’s a big fan,
As if their weird
language he can understand.
It’s probably true,
he’s half-goofed himself,
But his IQ’s 300,
like nobody else.
And when someone has a great big stroke,
They go “bllbll,
blbd, bld gbllld,” and it ain’t no joke.
But Oliver Sacks
figures out what they say,
And writes a
best-seller and smiles all the day.
The man has some
habits, it can’t be denied,
For he doesn’t like
sex, and from partners he hides.
We don’t know if he
really likes spaghetti,
But for him, no
computer: just his old Olivetti.
In fact we have
heard that every day
He eats the same
meals, wears white coats all the way.
He has just one
outfit that’s not very jolly,
Oh, wait: that’s
Jeff Goldblum, The Fly! Sorry, Ollie.
When I saw Awakenings, I sat down and cried,
‘Cause its human
sincerity can’t be denied.
Robin Williams tried
hard to enact this tough part,
Where he had no real
friends and put love on a chart.
And Robert deNiro,
jeez what a guy,
His flailing around
made me just want to die.
And what’s most
especially skilled and nice is,
He acts out an
oculogyric crisis.
Oliver Sacks, Oliver
Sacks
I wish you’d give me
these humble facts.
I know there’s
something quite wrong with my brain,
In fact I find it a
royal pain.
I don’t have a
tumor, don’t have a disease,
When I try to play
Chopin my mind does not seize.
And yet there is
something that’s plain out of order,
It makes me just
pack up and run for the border.
So come and dissect
this pound of grey mush,
And I’m sure all my
angst and dismay you will hush.
I need this so
badly, there’s no way around it –
Just make sure you
put it back where you found it.
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