Stream of Consciousness Saturday—earworm, 9.8.18

The SoCS prompts work several ways for me, depending upon where my consciousness is, I suppose, and how caffeinated I am. Today’s prompt had my consciousness do a web surf.

Your Friday prompt for Stream of Consciousness Saturday is “earworm.” Talk about your latest earworm, or one that habitually haunts you. Enjoy!

Earworm is a funny word. I understand the imagery it creates and how it relates to a song that gets stuck in your head, but where did the word come from? I’m off on a web surf, that other stream of consciousness thing we can do now in the Age of the Internet.

According to Wikipedia, an earworm is also called a brainworm, sticky music, stuck song syndrome, or Involuntary Musical Imagery (INMI). I’ve never heard it called anything other than earworm. I love the fancified INMI label and will have to investigate. Wikipedia also states that earworm may be a calque (a bilingual loan word, according to Dictionary.com, ’cause I hadn’t a clue) from the German Ohrwurm (ohrwurm=earwig, according to Google Translate).

Earwigs, which were worms before wigs, are gross. They plagued part of my garden in California. They may not burrow in human ears to lay eggs, as lore has it, but they sure look like they would. Ick.

Merriam-Webster’s site has a nice little article about earworm and its evolution, including how it became used in the 80s to mean what it means now, but Stephen King popularized it! Who knew?

Now what about that INMI stuff? A Google search brings up a lot of highfalutin articles, too dense for me to ponder this morning, me being too dense without more coffee. Earworms are types of hallucinations! Cool! And they are universal. So if you ever think the whole world has gone mad, you’re right. We’re all hallucinating. The Berkeley Science Review had a readable discussion of the clinical version of earworms, including whether severe forms are related to OCD and intrusive thoughts and if there is pharmaceutical treatment.

Bringing it back around to my earworms, I’ve had a few recently. They are cycling, depending on where I am in my depression. If I am feeling somewhat like I have a backbone, I’ve been hearing The Boxer by Simon and Garfunkel

In the clearing stands a boxer
And a fighter by his trade
And he carries the reminders
Of ev’ry glove that laid him down
Or cut him till he cried out
In his anger and his shame
“I am leaving, I am leaving”
But the fighter still remains, mmm mmm

or Don’t Give In by Snow Patrol

Don’t give in
Don’t you dare quit so easy
Give all that you got on the soul
Don’t say that you want it forever
I know, I know

In my more fragile moments, when I feel like I’m just not wired right for real life, I hear Starry Night by Don McClean. Not that I think I’m the beautiful genius of Van Gogh, just that I’m now too fragile for the world. Perhaps I’ve never been wired right for the world. People have said I’m too sensitive (whatever that means) since ever.

Now I understand what you tried to say to me
And how you suffered for your sanity
And how you tried to set them free
They would not listen, they did not know how
Perhaps they’ll listen now

For they could not love you
But still your love was true
And when no hope was left inside
On that starry, starry night
You took your life as lovers often do
But I could have told you, Vincent
This world was never meant
For one as beautiful as you

 

Not all earworms are horrible songs or commercial jingles.