The discussion last night was spirited.   A thought experiment involving observation of one’s hand was proposed.  A hand has objective status, a object existing in space along with other objects.  Concurrently there is no denying that my hand, with age blemished skin, and a partially healed nick from a sharp edge of a paring knife,  — is also part of the expression of the “I”, that self which observes, the “I am” which is the result of seventy years of accrued experience . The hand is an object in space, in time.  The same hand is continuous with the self that I have become.

The thought experiment offered by Raymond Tallis, observation of the back of my hand, is a clue that the totality of experience likewise entails ontological depth.

Ontological depth! 

In that cryptic term is a lifeline that will save you and I from being swept into the maelstrom, the heart of chaos that comes from the assumption that reality is ephemeral, fabricated, nothing but the shape-shifting of our minds machinations, spinning out infinite abstraction.  This untethered, conjuring of the real, makes reality subservient to politics, the party or the man with the ability to impose his or it’s notion of “world” upon everyone else.  Since all conceptions of reality are insubstantial, the only actor who really matters is the one who has the mojo to coerce all, far and wide into his horror house of mirrors.

Tomorrow is Halloween.  I suggest the prospect that we presently encounter is anything but a fun-walk, trick or treat romp, costume party, where our expectation of a bag full of treats will be rewarded .

We are faced with no less than a waking-nightmare.

We are lost, abysmally alone, and need to find our way back home.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Xf1S9U2ghrI

I Am…l Said

by Neil Diamond

L.A.’s fine, the sun shines most the time
And the feeling is “lay back”
Palm trees grow and rents are low
But you know I keep thinkin’ about
Making my way back

Well I’m New York City born and raised
But nowadays,
I’m lost between two shores
L.A.’s fine, but it ain’t home
New York’s home,
But it ain’t mine no more

“I am”… I said
To no one there
And no one heard at all
Not even the chair

“I am”… I cried “I am”… said I
And I am lost and I can’t
Even say why
Leavin’ me lonely still

Did you ever read about a frog
Who dreamed of bein’ a king
And then became one
Well except for the names
And a few other changes
If you talk about me
The story’s the same one

But I got an emptiness deep inside
And I’ve tried
But it won’t let me go
And I’m not a man who likes to swear
But I never cared
For the sound of being alone

“I am”… I said
To no one there
And no one heard at all
Not even the chair
“I am”… I cried
“I am”… said I
And I am lost and I can’t
Even say why
“I am”… I said
“I am”… I cried
“I am”… I said