Waves, In Fact

Waves are fun
Fun to flow about upon
Upon the same metaphor up and down
Down the rabbit hole of comparisons
Comparisons with everything, really
Really, the ride change matters
Matters of fact are in fact waves

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Re: Extended cognition and feminism

Interesting article on extended cognition and feminism here. I came to figure out why e-cog seems to come with so much ethical baggage for a theory about how to understand cognition. I’m satisfied.

The main point, that dualism and its descendants are really only plausible with a certain privileged position in the world. Elisabeth and Amo wrote at the same time as Descartes and couldn’t shake the importance of their bodies from their thought.

I take it the best move is to “grapple with the reality of a body made up of cells and nerves and tissues, but still look critically at how bodies absorb and are inscribed by culture.” All too often I see things like identity theory of body and mind dismissed because the effects of culture are so complex. As though the only possible way to identify mind with body (or mental with physical, rather, since I take the focus on individual bodies to also be a fundamental mistake) is to say “doing this general kind of action will have this result.” As though either an SSRI directly activates happy mode in every person regardless of culture, or else there must be a magical force that no physical system could realize.

Our social interactions affect our bodies, including the brain parts of our bodies. As do our cultures, media consumption patterns, positions in hierarchies, and so on. Scratching a piece of wood each day will eventually lead to its snapping, even if there’s no general fact about scratching wood causing breaking. Microaggressions, for example, may not cause almost anyone to do or be any way in every instance. But the small effects that we don’t see can add up over time. Small, independent changes can have all sorts of results in larger systems. The fact that we can’t figure out weather beyond some general patterns doesn’t mean there are immaterial cloud spirits. The fact that we can’t figure out human experience beyond some general patterns doesn’t mean there are immaterial human spirits.

I think a lot of those truths are apparent enough in a well-done idealism. (I’ve been asserting all of those things without thinking much about e-cog.) But the payoff, shifting futurism’s goal from disembodied minds to cyborgs, seems pretty compelling to me, at least at this point.

Three Way

Screams have at least three ways about them
This time we’re going to rock with joy
Goodness, goodness, badness, blueness,
I say “ahoy” and you say “lem”
“Lem?”
I ask.
You bask.
Bask in the awe.
Springtime summerfall.
Evenfalling sunshine leaves us speechless.
An intersection of rivers, roads, and lives.

This Summer Will Be the Best

I let the pressure build
Steam runs out
Battery runs dry
Turbine rusts up
Fuel gauge is on E and slipping

We don't need the fire
So let us dance in the sun
We'll stay warm all summer long

Cracks spread across the surface
The paint drys
Your voice cracks
We hear a boom from the engine
But we're two thousand miles left to go

We don't need the aloe
We don't need the rest

Infatuation

Self-laceration, ethanol intoxication, anaerobic metabolization
Hypertense salination, just anything will do for this fixation
Glucose, fructose, dextrose, sucrose, maltose, prompting salivation
Protein and oxygen, sustaining this incarnation
Glass of water, take a nap, fawn and fall from tantalization
Another bout of inhibition: aid via inebriation
A deeper form of auto-asphyxiation
followed by disappointing auto-defenstration
Abstraction escaping concretization
Chilling for preservation
No reverence for life’s station
Liberty enacted radically usurping destination
Broken intonation for a melancholy audiation
Visualization of nothing beyond imagination
Barred depression, anxiety, no coming to realization
Depths of disenchantment leave no space for persuasion
Cyclically revolving diurnal and nocturnal peregrination
Evisceration of fantastical illusory forthcoming salvation
Coming to idealize only inevitable nihilation

Composing

To compose a song
To sing a long
With a mental melody
And nebulous harmony
Go on to a solo
Then get all mellow
Start a round of jazz
–and all that jazz
Or write some smooth blues
Color the sound with blocks and hues
Force down a trill
Or scale the mill
Compose a song
While singing along
And just as I have said

Cherry Vodka

Sweet cherry vodka I cannot rid myself of thee
Everytime I get away I crawl back to you in agony
I just need one more drink, another sip tonight
And then I promise I can go make things right

From childhood I learned to love your sweet embrace
I thought one day I’d leave you but I fear that’s not the case
So pour me another glass, dear, you’ve always been so faithful
Everyone else deceived me, how could I have been so hateful?

Kiss me again, no, fuck me against the wall
Let me feel your sweet lips caress my body, doll
Honey, I want to feel you deep inside me
Yes, of course I will get on my knees