IF YOU SEE A ROBOT ON THE ROAD–

KILL IT!  (Heading taken from Sheldon Kopp’s  If You See Buddha on the Road, Kill Him,)

I went to bed last night slightly depressed after reading much in Daniel Dennett’s book From Bacteria to Bach and Back–The Evolution of Minds.   

Last night I dreamed I had gotten a ride with two other women, and we spent the night in a hotel.  I was in a room by myself and they shared a room down the hall. The next day I had a lot of stuff to repack and fit into their vehicle.  The owner of the vehicle was driving and I feared she was going the wrong way. The landscape was unfamiliar and I learned she had not been following a map.  I wasn’t sure even what state we were in. I looked at the sun which was several degrees to the right  overhead, and was unsure myself if we were going in the right direction. There was a tie-in toward the end of the dream with a regular meeting at my house every Wednesday. I didn’t send out a notice about it, but motivated people showed up. I am unsure of the status of that arrangement  at the end. School was out and people were leaving for home. I didn’t know if anyone would come at all.  Perhaps a few came before I got home and settled themselves in.  I had not prepared wine or food for them, however.

Themes: Group communication    (recuring)

Lacking vittels (little to offer others)   (recuring)

Not in control of my destination.

Lost.

Before retiring last night I had been bothered by Dennett quoting

“Comprehension is so  passe, so vieux jeux, so old-fashioned!  Who needs understanding when we can all be the beneficiaries of artifacts that save us the ardurous effort?” (Feynman ?) …Dennett observes, however, that the supply of high tech repair persons  is dwindling or non-existent (p 407)

Dennett quotes Chomsky, “we accept the best  explanation science can give us…It doesn’t matter what we can conceive any more. We’ve given up on that.” (Dennett, 374).

How can we willingly turn over our reason to robots? Perhaps emergence has led us so, but as E.O. Wilson and even Dennett has observed, current humans are becoming more capable of impacting our evolution. It could be in a benevolent way, but is surrendering our comprehension benevolent?  Perhaps only if one wants to change the meaning of human.

___

I’ve recently realized how much of a 2-way street the connection between the  Conscious and Unconscious is.  I was about to write a treatise on how to connect with the Unconscious, when I realized the many ways the Unconscious tries to get in touch with us. Is that anthropormophizing?  They’re both human, not animals.  If not human, then what?

Freud spoke of dreams as the royal road to the unconscious.  Is it perhaps the other way round?

I’d better go find something to eat. Why have I recently turned vegetarian?

 

About Nan Mykel

I used to think I would be a child prodigy, but then I got old. Formerly I had fantasies of rubbing elbows with cultural and academic leaders but that did not come to pass because I did not become a cultural or academic leader or any other kind of leader, for that matter. I am not even an "Alpha Dog," a term learned from a friend who had to become "Alpha Dog" in order to influence her own pet. (When gazes lock, she never looks away.) For years I expected to become a published author, but in passing I could not avoid the fact that I had little to contribute to the world's bulging dumpsters. I'm embarrassed to report that I also considered my primary process artistic productions powerful, rather than mildly neurotic. Which is not to say that I disrespect myself, only that I am beginning to doubt my potential for making a mark on the world. If I focus on strict self discipline I may be able to keep my garbage removed on a weekly basis, to keep the kitty box changed, the clothes cleaned, the dog watered, fed and walked, but that just catches me up to the starting mark again. When writing I physically grapple with words, wrestling them from their indifference into attempted chunks of awareness. I sit heavily on my chair; I breathe in artificially cooled air; my ear drums note the tap tap of the keyboard and the steady uninterrupted sound of the air conditioner, What is that sound? The roar of the ocean from 30 yards away...Inside, my thoughts are are balls in an electronic game machine, bouncing hither and yon from lever to lever. I am a little grim and intent until I recall a dream related by a black man in the prison where I once worked. He said that when he was a small boy, back home, he dreamed he was standing on his front porch pissing, and that he suddenly found himself pissing stars...
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