Your brain is all squishy: An anatomical demonstration

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That was interesting and now my brain feels so vulnerable. I wish she would have explained the significance of the blood that was seen prior to death. Also, as someone who hasn’t seen a lot brains, it would be nice to know the age of the person, since she mentioned the size and appearance was normal for a patient “of this age”.

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Pretty freaky that in that blog was someone’s entire set of memories, a personality - someone’s being. She’s carrying it around like it’s no big deal. I guess she has to - thinking about it deeply is deeply disturbing.

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You probably have to get used to it to be able to do that job. But yeah, I was wondering about whose brain it was, too.

Meh, tell me something that I am not acutely aware of…
Live webcam capture of crenquis as he “types” his comment:

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I remember doing a pig dissection way back in school and the brain, to me, seemed like the consistency of scrambled eggs once we cut into its surrounding membrane. So yeah, I’ve always thought of it as being really squishy.

Mythbusters did a segment on brain injuries and their stand in was jello. They put it in a clear plastic tub with some Cerebrospinal fluid stand in and were surprised just how much it sloshed around to even fairly minor impacts. It’s really no wonder that traumatic brain injuries are such a problem for football players and solders who survive bomb blasts.

I’ve cooked calves’ brain, so… yeah. VERY soft tissue. Not much taste either; it’s about as close as meat can come to tofu, and generally gets cooked in similar ways: scrambled or fried.

That gave a whole new meaning to “I’m absolutely brain-fried right now.”

(I set myself a rule some years ago that if I saw something in the supermarket that I had never eaten, I was obligated to get it and try a recipe. Beef kidneys and heart were definite successes; brain not so much.)

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Is there such a thing as a zombie foodie?

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Have you tried beef tongue? I don’t see much of it around now, but it’s pretty good in sandwiches. Kidneys and heart are great, and should be more popular really. I used to hate liver, but it’s pretty good if it’s not too old. One of the great things about eating offal (apart from the price) is that you get a lot of different flavours and textures that you don’t get with more common cuts. They can take some getting used to, but I’d say it’s worth it. A number of countries like Spain have some good recipes using offal if you’re short of ideas.

“Now here you can see the blah blah, and over here if we turn it this way is the blah blah blah, underneath the blah blah blah blah-blah.”

I should have paid more attention in Biology class.

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Very funny.

Paging Mr. Edgar Wright. Mr. Wright, please pick up the courtesy phone.

Beef tongue’s part of my cultural heritage, so I sorta took it for granted.

I thought I hated liver. Then I found out I hated the way my mother prepared liver. Then I found out what the liver does, and now I’m sorta undecided. I still like chicken livers, I sill like properly prepared beef liver with fried onions, but I don’t tend to get it as often as I once did.

I think what’s even more horribly fascinating is the vague sound of saws in the background. Egads.

(overall, I think she’s being very respectful of the brain and the deceased.)

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I can’t watch this. Given the infamous date and subject matter of this video, I’ve had quite enough brain shots for one day; all puns intended.

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My thoughts, exactly.

I grew up somewhere where offal was always on the menu, so I remember seeing a pile of sheeps’ heads in the back of the butcher’s station wagon on numerous occasions. I’ve always loved liver, and kidneys (preferably lambs’) and my mother was big on tripe and elder (I believe elder is cows’ udder, but I’ve never met anyone who could corroborate that). However, the brain was always right out. Ditto heart and tongue.

Yorkshire joke:
Lancashire man, walking in to a Yorkshire butcher’s: “I’d like a sheap’s 'ead.”
Butcher (to boy in back): “Ian! Ian! Bring us a sheap’s 'ead.”
Lancashire man: “Mek shooer it’s a Lancashire sheap!”
Butcher (to boy in back): “Ian! Ian! Tek t’brains owt!”

To be fair, that was first told to me by a Lancashire man, with the counties reversed.

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Yuck. I hate brains. They are so disgusting to me. I’d rather look at some horrible animal penis. I think the reason is because no matter how sterile and medical it looks, when you look at a human brain, you are basically looking at a corpse. To me, live brains (such as during surgery) are far less disturbing.

I knew brains were soft—get into a car accident with a sudden stop and the headache you have for days afterward lets you know how soft and vulnerable—but to see someone handling it, and to see how, well, floppy it is was absolutely transfixing.