I am reading a book about parasites that turn their hosts into zombies, meaning that they control their hosts’ actions in some way. When I told a friend about that, they said, “ophiocordyceps unilateralis?” because they are familiar with “The Last of Us.” In fact, movies about zombies often do involve some sort of mind-controlling parasite. It’s a neat explanation for your friends and relatives turning on you.

It’s a good book. It keeps me from logging onto social media (peaking of parasitism).

I am reading the book while sitting in an armchair with my cat Uncle Louie in my lap. Of course, I am uneasily aware that Uncle Louie is controlling my actions.

He owns that chair. He likes to have me sit there for a while after he eats, so that he can get petted and brushed properly, and then he starts lashing his tail after a while, meaning I end up either tipping him off my lap (in which case he returns and does it again) or getting up and putting him back down in the warm place where I was sitting.

Therefore, I spend much of my reading time either in my desk chair or on the couch, because Uncle Louie has managed to train me into giving him the armchair.

I’m getting a recliner some time in the next couple of months, and I suspect I’m getting it for Louie. He doesn’t need toxoplasmosis or cordyceps to control my behavior. All he needs to do is be cute and furry and to purr lovingly when I scratch his head, and then start lashing his tail. Yes, Uncle Louie. Whatever you say, Uncle Louie. Lucky for both of us that he can no longer reproduce, or I would have kittens bursting out of my abdomen and he wouldn’t have the food all to himself the way he does now.

Maybe I should go do something else for a little bit.