The only thing I can state with certainty - that is, the eye in me that states uncertainly - about the human condition, which might help to alleviate those terrible fits of nihilism that (im)mature contemplation is inclined to produce, is this: Just as one could reasonably regard consciousness as the inevitable and occasional product … Continue reading Might it be us?
I choose not to trust that visceral inner voice, that emotional and unevaluated clamour of conditioned reactions; that deceptive feeling of deep knowing, which is no more than hardened and entrenched schema reinforced by a bias towards confirmatory experiences; that overwhelming tribal instinct urging me not to abandon the familiar for the foreign; that unbridled … Continue reading The Inner Voice
I can’t know what is true, only what seems correct in that I can rely on it to re-occur, to replicate, but it also seems that there is something fundamental to the idea that reality is dynamical and, therefore, can only be described in terms of relations and processes over time, and any static presentation … Continue reading What I can know
A squirrel scrambles, tree to tree, frantically gathering winter’s hoard. No mind of its pursuits, it seems, but only that by some urgency such preoccupation overwhelms it. Should it stop to linger on its thoughts, to probe for reasons why, we might find a rodent adventuring to far off places, deviating from familiar habitats and … Continue reading Of Squirrels and Men
Ere the circuits of the brain cease to signal, and the heart keeps time no more, death descends upon cautious minds that rest along the shore. Whence the plasma of thought stems its flow, the raw ore of curiosity is cast into dogma, the heat of doubt is resisted - the death of mind descends. … Continue reading The Death of Mind