YouTube: https://youtube.com/watch?v=WGl5SUB8IXM
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Duration:04:01
Uploaded:2010-11-03
Last sync:2019-06-14 01:30
In which Hank sings a song about a guy who had an iron rod shoot through his brain and survived for 12 years before eventually dying of severe seizures. His name was Phineas Gage, and his tale is fascinating, so I wanted to write a song about it.


HERE ARE A LOT OF LINKS TO NERDFIGHTASTIC THINGS:

Shirts and Stuff: http://dftba.com/artist/30/Vlogbrothers
Hank's Music: http://dftba.com/artist/15/Hank-Green
John's Books: http://amzn.to/j3LYqo

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Hank's Twitter: http://www.twitter.com/hankgreen
Hank's Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/hankimon
Hank's tumblr: http://edwardspoonhands.tumblr.com

John's Twitter: http://www.twitter.com/realjohngreen
John's Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/johngreenfans
John's tumblr: http://fishingboatproceeds.tumblr.com

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Other Channels
Crash Course: http://www.youtube.com/crashcourse
SciShow: http://www.youtube.com/scishow
Gaming: http://www.youtube.com/hankgames
VidCon: http://www.youtube.com/vidcon
Hank's Channel: http://www.youtube.com/hankschannel
Truth or Fail: http://www.youtube.com/truthorfail

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Nerdfighteria
http://effyeahnerdfighters.com/
http://effyeahnerdfighters.com/nftumblrs
http://reddit.com/r/nerdfighters
http://nerdfighteria.info/

A Bunny
((
( - -)
((') (')
Good morning John, it is Wednesday, November, 3rd, Song Wednesday. And this is a song that I wrote.

It's about Phineas Gage. (singing)

Oh, Phineas Gage was 25 years old in 1848.
And he liked his job, working at the railroad, but he had another fate.
He was blasting rock when something distracted him.
And he forgot to put the tamping sand in.
He shoved the tamping rod into that little hole onto the blasting powder.
And suddenly his entire left frontal lobe had been turned into clam chowder.

Oh, this is the story of Phineas Gage, who was stabbed in the brain.
And once your frontal lobe has been destroyed, you can never go home again.

A little while later Phineas Gage was sitting on his bed.
He told the doctor the tamping rod had shot straight through his head.
But the doctor could not believe what Phineas said.
For if that were the case he surely would be dead.
But then Phineas had a coughing fit, and a teacup full of brains
fell out of his head and that was more than the doctor could explain.

Oh, this is the story of Phineas Gage, who was stabbed in the brain.
And once your frontal lobe has been destroyed, you can never go home again.

Well the doctor told the family to prepare for Gage's death.
'Cause the one you take before your head gets stabbed is usually your last breath.
And Phineas spent the next few months in bed.
In and out of consciousness, with a swelling in his head.
But mere months after the accident, he walked right down his stairs,
as if having lost a quarter of his brain left him no worse for wear.

Oh, this is the story of Phineas Gage, who was stabbed in the brain.
And once your frontal lobe has been destroyed, you can never go home again.

But unfortunately for Phineas, our story won't end there.
The reason we still know his name is the strangest part of this affair.
After his brain was scrambled his friends and family said,
"Oh, this is no longer Phineas. There's a new man here instead."
And thus we know that operating on the brain needn't not cause death.
And that what makes a person who he is, is not the heart but the head.

Oh, this is the story of Phineas Gage, who was stabbed in the brain.
And once your frontal lobe has been destroyed, you can never go home again.

Oh Phineas Gage was 37 years old when he finally made his way.
Back to his home and family, for he could tell the day
of his death was fin'ly creeping up on him.
'Cause he forgot to put the tamping sand in.
And as common in these cases of severe head trauma,
seizures took their toll and put an end to this drama.

(music fades)

(speaking) Thanks to Katherine and Lemon for helping me film that video. Lemon didn't actually help at all.

I'm sorry we didn't think to clean the lens beforehand. Sorry that I have not addressed the somewhat pressing concern of whether or not you can be my sing-a-ma-jig player. That's simply because I do not how to write for sing-a-ma-jig.

Actually, I think it's because I thought you were kidding. But now that I know that you're serious I'm going to do some research and figure out whether or not I can write for sing-a-ma-jig. John, I'll see you on Friday.

This is what happens when you're cameramaning and... and the dog is tied to you. A tumbleweed just went over my MacBook. I love Montana!