Phenomenology, thought experiments and contemplation have in some instances provided valuable insights to physicalist forms of knowledge, i.e. physics or neuroscience. Not unlike Einstein’s successful attempt to access concepts in relativity through thought experiments, Giulio Tononi wants to create step-by-step definitions and images that allow theorization about the subject at hand: in this case, consciousness, subjectivity, selfhood, the feeling of what it’s like to be something.
Plot twist: he completely dodges a great question about unification of conscious experiences in the case of stroke patients. I’m not sure why he neglected to answer or even address that question directly.
Lake Monona in Madison, WI. Sat around nuzzling itself for over 30 minutes
Wow that last entry was weird. Sky is looking right this morning. It is close to 8am and my location is the living room of Selby. Beeps from a large truck cut thru the dewey air as the sink starts running with floppy droppy plops. A car goes by. Sounds are among the best experiences to document because one can write while listening. And to remember a sound is easier, like re-playing a tape. I cannot much remember the visual scene directly out of the window in front of me should I look away from it for a moment. The details will just disappear. The sights out the window I’ve seen thousands of times and as recently as a minute ago and I still couldn’t draw them for you as easily as I could describe the sounds. And, wait – while trying to write a thought about work intruded into my awareness. Off with that. Anyway it is easier to remember sounds. Outside the sun marks prominent territories: the lawn on the south end of the street split by sprinting rays (& sitting shadows) who run left-right and east-west right now. As the day continues and the sun rolls by the shadows will shrink and change their direction, until the same sitting shadows point northwards towards the house. And ongoing the street will eventually be split again, by the evening sun. Neat to think – the sun coming from east strikes out long lines, as it rises up the lines shift 90 degrees and shrink by some margin, and then shift another 90 degrees further and are drawn out again at dusk.
Lawn-mower sound or perhaps leaf-blower sound itching the earports. It seems to hear the gnashing metal engine sound – at least this morning – is more bearable than when also experiencing the sight of them. The bottom edge of the windowsill currently occludes the street beneath, and I feel like a periscope of flesh and frivolity. Yee yee haa haa. The morning clouds – which were really more of a dotted cottony haze – have been boiled off the top by the sun. A stunning scream trickles in from that screen, conjuring Alex’s voice: “As clear as an unmuddied lake, sir. As clear as an azure sky of deepest summer.”