The Random Walk of Evolution

My special friend Greer was born with four eyes.

The second set of these orbs is situated directly behind the first in her head, so that when you stare into the front pair (gray/blue), they seem twice as deep as normal. This lends Greer a quality, an aura, of ineffable wisdom. Her azure pools seem in fact of the bottomless type.

However, that second optical set of vision-givers inhabits the skull space typically allocated to a portion of the brain that reaches conclusions. Thus, the wise Greer, appearing to ever ruminate deeply, never delivers, can never deliver, a coherent response to any observer’s query.

Understanding this, Greer has learned to look back into, not out of, her skull, training those duplicate peepers on the incomplete circuits in her brain that try in futile fashion to close the loop on whatever conundrum she is dealing with, without success. These days, she can halt her ineffective reasoning process at will, creating a brain-state snapshot, and then issue a reasonable response to her current conversational correspondent’s questions.

No solutions to Delphic riddles ever emerge from this, and so her aura dissipates. Her extra eyes prove of no use. The genetic accident that gave rise to them represents just another of Nature’s prolixity of dead ends.

Meantime, her first son was born with five eyes, not four. The placement of that fifth instrument of vision, a veritable punchline in the joke of Life, proves without doubt that Nature is blind, with no specific goal in sight or mind, or behind.