PAY attention.

Sorry to be so blunt. But we're two seconds in and, already, something else may be demanding your time.

To sum up: all life is a distraction. Every part of life is a distraction from every other part. It's a bit of a conundrum, yon.

To keep your interest, I change the subject swiftly to macaques. A study of the controversial simians identified the part of their brains that allowed them to ignore distractions.

Researchers at McGill University in yonder Canada examined the monkeys' brain activity as their eyes moved to look at objects on a computer screen. Unbeknownst to the simple-minded creatures, the cunning boffins were able to tell when the monkeys were focused or distracted and were even able to predict when this would happen.

You say: "What's that got to do with me? I wasn't a monkey last time I looked. And naebody gets near ma heid."

These are good points, well made. But they neglect the medical opportunities for developing neural prosthetics for people with autism, attention deficit disorder and even schizophrenia.

It was interesting - arguably - that the boffins conducted this experiment with computers. As the controversial human race wades ever deeper into the 21st century, it finds itself bombarded by distractions on all sides.

In the main, these emanate from computers of one sort or another, whether wee things in your pocket, middling-sized gadgets in your knapsack or, as in my case, a portable laptop that sits on my desk and never goes anywhere.

(Intermission: I kid you not, I am just returning to this article after being distracted by something on the news).

Where was I? Oh yes, distractions. There are so many: emails, news websites, tweets if you are so inclined, texts, creditors at the door. But the computer is the worst source of them.

In days gone by, writers retreated from the world and took to their typewriters or notebooks. Now, we (if I might include humble hacks) use machines that simultaneously plug us into the world. I am known for my stern, iron self-discipline, but even I spend much of my day frankly faffing about.

I have been trying to begin writing the Great Scottish Novel for 37 years now but, these days, there's always something more interesting on YouTube. Quite often, it's a panda on a slide.

Well, perhaps it's no bad thing. Everybody needs a sliding panda sometimes. And much of what we need to focus on is probably over-rated anyway: work, novels in progress, significant others.

If we were forever focused, life wouldn't be much fun. All right, you can go now. Oh, you have.