The real power of booze

Correspondent | Wednesday January 8, 2014 15:48

Now that the festive season is over people are stone broke following the festive bust. For some, brain cells are on strike and are refusing to function. Some people are dodging work because they simply can't function, while others have what resembles a permanent hangover.

Some can't even remember anything of what happened during the festive season because they were always squiffy. Others lost their teeth to 'festive violence' after saying the wrong thing to the wrong guy while sozzled. My neighbour's friend's dog lost part of its tail due to such festive violence and then went missing for a day or two after that. When it came back, the remainder of the tail was missing after the canine probably gate-crashed on the wrong party. Some people ended up at loggerheads with traffic cops because of 'festive driving.'

 This is all because of the festive season that for many people often comes in the form of booze. For the majority of the people of the world, the festive season automatically means imbibing on the inebriant. This makes January the best time of the year to quit booze, or at the least abstain, not only because people are broke and in terrible debt, but also to give the brain cells a chance to recuperate. They need time to convalesce, at least for the sake of another productive year.

The mind is a very complex component of human life; an invincible 'entity' over which we have no control whatsoever, such that it could wander off without a fuss and we can't do anything about it. A combination of factors makes January the best time of the year for the mind to wander off and give people despicable ideas like suicide. Amongst others, such factors include being broke, being in debt, being in trouble, and having suddenly become alcohol-dependent and craving for more of the liquid stuff without money to purchase it.

For the latter reason, some people resort to glooming, which can drive a mob into a lynching mood. It's at times like these that the mind wanders off as people reflect over the past year and realise what a waste it was when the real meaning of all the debt incurred during a sweep of excitement hits at full throttle. It's at such times that those who cope poorly with stressful situations and the impulsive ones consider a tight rope around the neck as a possible solution to the 'burden' called life.

Now, everyone will agree that if you have a simple headache, for instance, you can take a painkiller and the pain should go away. But imagine if you had 'pain' in your mind, the 'pain' being a torrent of worries flooding your mind, no matter what you do to parry them off. There are several factors that may cause such 'pain' on your mind, the main and most common being alcohol through the very organ that regulates the mind: the brain.

The brain is a complex organ; one not to be messed up with, one so delicate and fastidious that any tampering with it could result in disaster. Unfortunately that's the organ humans tend to tamper with most through various mechanisms, the worst and most common of all being alcohol and its cousins drugs, especially during the recently departed festive season.

I will talk of alcohol in this instance since it currently seems to be the one dogging our nation more than drugs. I believe most of you would be aware by now that alcohol may cause physical ailments such as alcohol liver disease, gastritis (it does damage to the stomach), pancreatitis and seizures, as well as social problems such as relationship difficulties, financial problems and poor performance at work.

I believe some of you may be familiar with people who brag about having a potbelly, which sometimes may in fact be due to a swollen liver, which in itself may be a disease caused by alcohol, with such people's complexion having acquired a yellow tinge, not the least aware that they in fact require treatment for the potbelly?

Alcohol is a very potent substance that is absorbed instantly without having to go through the rigmarole of the whole digestive system. It simply takes the first convenient exit in the stomach and gives the nervous system a nasty and potentially rampageous visit. At this point, as the drinker continues to imbibe, the booze now exerts its effects, taking its time. It does so in at least three different ways, namely:

It depresses the behavioural inhibitory centres and makes its voluntary victim become more talkative and self-confident. This is the point when people say the wrong things and embark on an unnecessary gasconade, sometimes bragging about what doesn't even belong to them in the first place.

Some may even start thinking they are Superman and attempt to fly, with obvious results. Naturally quiet people become jerks.

It slows down the processing of information from the senses and makes its voluntary victim to have trouble seeing, hearing, smelling, touching and tasting. The threshold for pain is also raised. I have seen people getting bashed while sloshed and not feeling a thing until after the intoxicant has abandoned them. I believe you have heard of people who literally drive over a roundabout? There you are.

3. Alcohol inhibits thought processes such that the drinker loses the ability to use good judgment or think clearly. This is the point when the mind switches into the 'passion killing' mode. Also this is the time when people drive as if they are in Formula 1, with little thought for death. With some individuals, fists suddenly become readily available as well as other 'handy' instruments.

These are all due to Alcohol's government on parts of the brain that are vital for normal functioning.

I am not going to bore you with the intricacies of how this actually happens. Basically, the brain works in a complex way, such that every time information reaches it, there is a system which regulates whether the information should be put into practice or not. This is done through some chemicals, with some of  them supporting the information and others against it.

 Have you ever thought of doing something but suddenly decided against it? Say, you decide to walk into a convenience store to buy a bar of chocolate, then suddenly change your mind? Well, that's how our brains function at both a conscious and an unconscious level. Basically, the chemical that's against the idea of buying the chocolate won in this case. Now, alcohol rather hijacks some of the chemicals that belong to the 'opposition party' as a result of which the chemicals belonging to the 'ruling party' win and all the information reaching the brain is put into practice.

This is why, for instance, some people find it easy to insult someone or use their fists without thinking following a few steins of 'Laela-Mmago,' although they wouldn't normally do so when there is no alcohol in their system. You get the point, right?

Booze is actually a depressant. Unfortunately, a lot of people tend to have the misconception that alcohol is in fact some form of a quick-acting antidepressant simply because they feel more gay, talkative and self-confident after a few stiff ones.

You see, with prolonged alcohol drinking, nutritional intake becomes compromised, especially with individuals who tend to cure their hangover with more booze, and hence have alcohol for breakfast. As such the individual misses out on important nutrients, the most vital of which is thiamine, a vitamin vital in regulating our cognitive functioning. So imagine what would happen to someone who continually drinks on a daily basis for several years in a row, with little food intake. I guess you have seen the kind of people I am talking about. These are the people you see staggering all over even when they are cold sober, and can hardly remember what day or date it is. Every day is a new day to them. You could introduce yourself to them 10 times in a day, but still they will forget your name 15 times, a minute after you have re-introduced yourself.

These are chaps suffering from what's called Korsakoff's syndrome, a syndrome characterised by severe memory loss/inability to form new memories, confusion, unsteady/uncoordinated walking, disorientation, irregular eye movements and confabulation. Confabulation is a plausible but imagined memory that fills in gaps in what is remembered. For instance, if you met a man with this condition, say, at a bar and you asked him how he ended up at the bar, he may give you a luxuriant, sound account of how he got there.

He may tell you that he was in bed in the morning and a cousin walked in and asked him to accompany him to go check on an uncle at the bar, ended up in a meeting with the owner of the bar, and somehow a grandfather bought them beers. What the poor soul is not able to remember in this case is that he in fact walked to the bar by himself to imbibe, with neither the company of a cousin nor a grandfather, both of whom might not even exist in the first place. That's the real power of booze now.

Can you imagine how it would be like to come home to a relative who can't remember you, or confabulates and tells you that he remembers you from back in primary school? Saying you were in the same class back then when in actual fact he went to primary school 20 years before you were born. It's not so cool, is it? Or a relative or friend who, after years of a long, riotous marriage to alcohol, suddenly can't walk straight even when 100% sober, can't remember what day it is or where they are and insults everyone like never before, with no regard to the consequences of doing so. It's not so cool, is it?

I would like to warn those born on the pruno that even as you imbibe, remember that the battery acid added to the hooch by the staff at the 'Mokoko o nchebile' brewery may do its own additional damage, such as stiffening and tightening the throat, with the result that in the long run the poor throat wouldn't allow much food to pass through. This would be in addition to the brain damage done by the high alcohol content of the 'Mokoko on chebile.' That's a pretty bad combination, trust me. So go easy on the homebrew.

As you sit in the bar having a few stiff ones, just remember that things could get really stiff upstairs if you don't watch the 'traffic' of liquid going through your mouth. And as you look left and right to see if there are any cars coming before crossing the road with your six-pack of booze, just beware that in a number of years' time, you could be crossing the very same road carrying your six-pack of beer and looking left and right, but this time not looking for traffic but trying to figure out where exactly you are. A re bo nweng re bo tshela metsi bathing!