My little brother recently came home from eight months in Australia with a new game. It’s called “What Am I Thinking of?” and it seems poised on the brink of bridging the tragic divide between human skulls. With this game you can finally penetrate the consciousness of your fellow man. It’s the most exhilarating science I’ve seen in years. The game goes like this:
Player 1: What am I thinking of?
Player 2: Seahorses.
Player 1: No, Roman columns.
Player 2: Shit.
Normally I hate games, but I had fun with this one because it was so easy to sabotage. “What Am I Thinking of?” is the sort of game that breaks down when you can’t trust your partner to tell you honestly what he’s thinking of. It also thrives on creativity and randomness, which is why the following exchanges were so enjoyable:
Me: What am I thinking of? (eating bacon)
Brother: Genghis Khan.
Me: No, bacon.
Me: What am I thinking of? (holding my brother’s face in my hands)
Brother: All Quiet on the Western Front.
Me: No, your face.
Brother: You suck at this game.
Keep in mind that we played “What am I thinking of?” en famille on Christmas morning, so what I was actually thinking was “I am so goddamn lonely” and “My entire life is an exercise in shame and futility.” But joke’s on them because I’m also a cheater!
My brother says the closest he’s ever come to winning this game is when he guessed “London” when his friend was thinking “Dublin.” Evidently some sort of Jungian collective unconscious was in play here. Or the boys were simultaneously reading a map of the United Kingdom. In any case I’m encouraged that two people can read each other’s minds even to this dyslexic degree. They were trying to know each other, and it’s the effort—not the science—that counts.
Me: What am I thinking of? (porn porn Roy Orbison porn dogs champagne)
You: How dark and inaccessible you are.
Me: Congratulations, you win. Game over.