Day 194 - Fish Story

Fish Story

Matthew Ryan Fischer

A good number of fiction writers have pointed to the idea that mankind only uses 10% of their brain, and that if evolution would allow just a small percentage more then super intelligence or superpowers like telepathy and telekinesis are just around the corner. This of course is basically just wishful thinking based on a myth that arose from people misunderstanding the results of neurological research in the late 19^th and early 20^th centuries. Fiction writers perpetuated the myth, knowingly or unknowingly, because it made for entertaining flights of fancy. It became a little bit urban legend and a little bit conventional wisdom and writers didn’t bother with research or fact checking to correct the confusion. Why eliminate such an easy plot point? Why remove a limitless well to be tapped? The story was more important. The truth? Not so much.

In similar fashion, there is a fair amount of false data floating around regarding how much water makes up the human body and just how much water a person needed to drink everyday in order to stay healthy. Aumann liked to believe that he was made up of more water than the average human. He liked to believe that his body percentage was closer to that of certain fish. Aumann believed that biologically speaking he was closer to his aquatic ancestors that first crawled out of the ocean, than to his more recent two-legged evolutionary family tree brethren.

Aumann had always felt more comfortable in the water than he did above the surface. When he was young he took swimming lessons and was a natural. He barely needed any training at all. He was fast and smooth and through the years, his swim coaches loved him for it. He won tournament after tournament. People used to joke that he was part fish. Aumann believed them.

There has always been a fascination with the water. It could be magic. In literature it represents healing and rebirth. Baptism washes sins away. The Pacific has no memory. The legends, the myths, and the realities always have life coming from the water. Aumann felt more in touch with life when he was in the water. The water was natural. Aumann loved it. It felt like home.

He tested himself. How long could he stay underwater? Did he need to breathe at all? How much water could he drink? Would his life-force flourish or would he suffer water intoxication? Aumann believed he was special and believed the water in turn would hold something special for him. He read about the sinking of Atlantis and the theories of mermaids and merpeople in general. He privately wished he could be one. He secretly believed that somewhere there was a mermaid for him, waiting. He knew enough to not talk about such ideas.

Aumann became convinced that he had to live a life at sea. He read about fantastical proposals to create floating and underwater cities. Since those hadn’t been built yet, he would settle for a nautical life of some sort. As a young man, Aumann set to sea to work on an Alaskan fishing boat. His entire outlook on life, the water and his connection to it, all changed very very quickly; the illusion had been shattered. Aumann never returned to the sea. He found he was quite happy with the ground beneath his feet.