Meta Value - 46

Maybe 200 years from now, we will be laughed at for embracing moronic concentration of power by not lack of knowledge in neuroscience but unwillingness to connect the obvious dots between knowledge,  action and inability to change. 

Yes, there are regular "columns" about the foolishness of multi-tasking but yet we elect officials, presidents to multitask. We celebrate CEOs and so-called corporate leaders who multi-task. Even worse, we expect the same from doctors, nurses, cops, and fire fighters. 

They just don't multi-task. Their role and responsibility is to tackle, understand, and solve the new problem, issue et al at a spur of the moment while still solving the issue at hand and yesterday's unsolved issue. Oh yeah, they also need to deal with family, celebrations, mundanity, issues and sickness. Watch news, tv, movies, and sports.

And they need to eat, poop, workout, and sleep.

All this in 24 hours of time. 

No living being can do this. Lions don't chase Zebra's 24 hours a day nor do crocodiles. No living organism does this. 

Humans cannot eat, read while doing pull ups. 

But yet, our entire civilization, economy, politics, is built around the fabric of few humans who are capable of doing pulls while popping, eating and reading. 

The real issue is the messed up dichotomy of mind and body. There is no dichotomy. The mind is not magic. It is an organic matter with limited capabilities. 

Plus we breed smaller humans to make life altering decisions at 18 with their underdeveloped prefrontal cortex.

It seems that the entire complexity of human civilization is built on Robert Trivers’ fragile ground of self-deception. 

The meta value here is - if one can not do any of the above, focus on few important things that matter in their limited time - one can not only thrive but have a wonderful and peaceful life. 

If by Rudyard Kipling:

If you can keep your head when all about you   

    Are losing theirs and blaming it on you,   

If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you,

    But make allowance for their doubting too;   

If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,

    Or being lied about, don’t deal in lies,

Or being hated, don’t give way to hating,

    And yet don’t look too good, nor talk too wise:

If you can dream—and not make dreams your master;   

    If you can think—and not make thoughts your aim;   

If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster

    And treat those two impostors just the same;   

If you can bear to hear the truth you’ve spoken

    Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,

Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken,

    And stoop and build ’em up with worn-out tools:

If you can make one heap of all your winnings

    And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss,

And lose, and start again at your beginnings

    And never breathe a word about your loss;

If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew

    To serve your turn long after they are gone,   

And so hold on when there is nothing in you

    Except the Will which says to them: ‘Hold on!’

If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,   

    Or walk with Kings—nor lose the common touch,

If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you,

    If all men count with you, but none too much;

If you can fill the unforgiving minute

    With sixty seconds’ worth of distance run,   

Yours is the Earth and everything that’s in it,   

    And—which is more—you’ll be a Man, my son!