What does it do to man? Time? To his brain? That he thinketh himself into a rock; a riveting of neurons. "Me? You CANNOT expect me to do it, not even my mother made me cook, not even my mother made me do it." How dare you bring her into this? You! Man born of woman! Was it not your mother who, 14 hours into labor, turned her body into nourishing garden, into kitchen, blending vitamins into drink for you? Your ancestors around bonfires, eating charred meat, would only laugh and throw you a bone... if you were lucky.