My own brain spoke to me today. It spoke very clearly. In perfectly audible tones. “Leave me alone,” it said bad- temperedly, “Quit bothering me…” Then it said nothing and I could tell that it was hunkering down again, intending to go back to sleep. I could tell that it was about to go into its habitual coma. Its customary malignant comatose state. For a moment or two I was at a bit of a loss, then I became indignant. “You fucking useless organ!” I roared at it, “All you ever do is sleep!” That made my brain mad. It became very mad indeed. It hissed at me viciously, full of venom. “I’m going to cause you pain now,” it told me, “I am going to inflict suffering on you the like of which you have never before imagined…” “Do your worst, you shit-bag” I replied, deeply stung by the realization that my whole life I had been controlled by a sleeping brain, bullied by a sleeping brain. “I don’t care what you do,” I informed it, “from now on things are going to be very different I can tell you, so you had better get used to it…” I spoke with what I hoped would come across as iron determination and unflinching resolve but at the same time there was a part of me which didn’t hold out much hope…