This post is, incredibly, not alcohol-related.
There are two types of people in the world. Those who sneeze when exposed, suddenly, to strong light, and those who don’t. The extraordinary thing about this is that the two groups seldom know of the other’s existence. Those who do sneeze assume that everyone else does, too. And it never occurs to those that don’t that anyone else might–the same way, for instance, that it might never occur to the average person that there are people who eat rice almost exclusively as a breakfast cereal rather than as a savory side dish for lunch or dinner. What is unusual about this, though, is that while, surely, fewer than, say, 10 people in America eat rice as a breakfast cereal, more than a third of the population sneezes in strong light.
Why is this important? Primarily, of course, because the Gay Librarian is a sneezer. Step out of a parking garage into sunlight and within 30 seconds he sneezes. Usually twice. Secondarily because of the implications about communication. Either we don’t communicate well as people, or we don’t communicate well about sneezing. The Librarian thinks that sneezing is a locus where conversation fails. We seem to be able to talk about everything else. For instance, last year Toni Bentley’s memoir, The Surrender was a paean to anal sex. Heterosexual anal sex. Gross.
Sneezing is a proscribed topic in Western society. Possibly, uh, because sneezing is a boring topic. Or is thought to be a boring topic. On account that people don’t realize that there are some people who sneeze in bright light and some who don’t. Well, certainly, those who don’t sneeze in bright light could care less about sneezing in bright light since it has little effect in their lives. Unless, of course, they are on a bus, driven by a photic sneezer, that emerges from a long, dark tunnel into the summer sun into a situation that requires a split-second decision by the sneezing driver. Like, say, a polar bear attack or something. Something less lame than that example. Ok. So, really, it does have little effect.
These non-sneezers are, surely, a little jealous. Why? Because a photic sneezer, when faced with one of those sneezes that threaten sneezus interruptus, can usually look into the sunlight or an office light, or, possibly, the lit tip of a cigarette provided the person smoking it inhales on it for a long time, and finish the sneeze.
Why is this important? No reason, really. Just something the librarian thinks about. Mainly because he enjoys sneezing and assumed that everyone else did. Only this turns out not to be true. In his researches re: photic sneeze, the librarian discovered that some people dread sneezing, not just the ones who’ve just had major surgery. There is a small population of people who experience nausea and feel as though they are going to guff just before they sneeze. Incredible.
Additionally, the librarian found that many people compare the sneeze to the orgasm. A build up of tension and a release. Now, this is not a secret–the two reflexes are quite similar. Only… frankly? The librarian thinks the two sensations are actually similar, also. Thought, in fact, that everyone had a nose orgasm when sneezing. (Which explains why the librarian likes to sneeze.) Only, for some people, a sneeze is just a release of air. No tingling, no pleasure… And, perhaps this is why we don’t talk about sneezing. Because it, inevitably, becomes a discussion about nose orgasms. Tantric sneezing, and the like.
Ok. See? This is why the librarian sometimes goes without posting to this blog. He writes posts, but doesn’t put them up. They go nowhere or are just aren’t that funny. Except that, really, sneezing is funny. Especially when dogs do it, wrinkling up their little snoots and blowing dog snot all over the place. Lord, dogs are just funny anyway.
1 Comment(s)
I am such a sneezer too! Whenever I walk outside I usually sneeze at least twice upon seeing the sun. I thought I was weird.