Wednesday, 19 January 2011

Ozness of Mind

A mind is the centre of gravity of concurrent cognitive forces (at least this is the explanation given by Dennett...) and the stream of subjective experience is narrativity (at least this is the misinterpretation given by me...).

So your experience of being an I, is stretched all along the narrative your life is. As you might have observed, your life looks like a continuum, with a strange plot that deploys itself while you live. Sometimes the thread seems repetitive, sometimes pointless. It's not uncommon to perceive of being in control of the events in your life, exactly as it's not uncommon to feel the opposite. And not matter how messed up you're, or how many fella do you hear in your head, it's incorrigible the sensation of seeing the world from the first person.

The thing is, your accelerated brain, (or the cognitive projection it gives to itself) in order to interact with others projections in a virtual semiotic cultural environment is forced to exercise the practice of being a mind. The effect is to produce narrativity. And quite logically, where there's a narration, there's a narrator.

And so, yes my little friends, probably you already gotcha: narrativity produces the side effect of authorship. It's just our misguided perspective that when it sees a generation, thinks to a generator. Quite the opposite: a generation casts the shadow of a generator.

Not that this distinction really matters: if there's no one who cares, what is exactly the point? Nonetheless, we are completely convinced of being there. We have the incorrigible belief to be a consciousness. It's like in kingdom of Oz: your action are giving significance to entity you could call courage, or intelligence, or love. Our narrative interaction with the world makes us thinking there's authorship and we are searching it in our lives. With our lives.

We are artists, believers, researcher, easy-goers, because we are forced by how our brain is shaped to see us as minded bodies. So what we can do know? I mean apparently if we are fictional, then our job is done? Rub your little red shoes and fly away to help other children-like metaphysical entity with problems....

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