The Message

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Read your message 

Replied by text

Waiting for an answer

To what comes next

Sittin with my screen

What to expect 

Will you accept 

Or will you reject

 

Face appears 

What does it reflect?

Trying to dissect 

The image you erect

In this pixilated world

We're two small specks

How can we connect

How do we connect 

It’s in your head

It’s in your head

It's just a message

It's all a message

I'm like my folks

Marriage was a wreck

Didn't treat each other 

With any respect

I'll be direct

Your secret's been kept

But how would you feel

If I took the next step

In this pixilated world

We're two small specks

How can we connect

How do we connect 

It’s in your head

It’s in your head 

It's just a message

It's all a message

And Even More Random Thoughts: Consciousness and Meaning

What do we mean by meaning? It has to be the slipperiest question of all.  

Here's one online dictionary definition: (Noun) "What is meant by a word, text, concept, or action." In other words, meaning is what is meant. Or (Adjective) "Intended to communicate something that is not directly expressed." Miriam Webster puts it this way: "Conveying or intended to convey meaning." So meaning intends to convey meaning? Seems like an impossible question to answer without a tautology ie. an argument that circles back on itself, and ultimately conveys nothing (Tautology: "A phrase or expression in which the same thing is said twice in different words.")

In philosophy (and language sciences) the study of meaning is called Semantics. The focus of science is on how 'something' works, and in the case of semantics it's how language conveys meaning. So, without actually providing a definition of what 'meaning' is, Semantics tries to understand the mode of conveyance. Meaning is integral to language, which is why some people who study semantics never bother to ask if there is something behind it. They think that by studying semantics they are already studying 'meaning'. But in fact meaning exists without language. Meaning must precede the conveyance of it. Meaning is the raison d'etre of language. I want to tell you something because there is a meaning (in my thoughts, in my body, in my feeling, that I want to put into words). Semantics doesn't answer the main question: What is meaning and where does it come from? 

My readings on consciousness (most recently Nicholas Humphrey's "A History of the Mind", and neurologist Anil Seth's "Being You") seem to present an answer. In a previous post about the consciousness loop I wrote, "...our response to the external world (stimuli) is based as much on what we project as it is on what we take in - another word for that is 'meaning'." This merits further explanation. The 'loop of consciousness' describes how the brain processes perceptual stimulation. It's a loop because it's a two way process, in which stimuli is affecting the brain on the way in, but also simultaneously producing an affect on the way out. This interactive 'double-check' on perception provides evolutionary advantages. It's not simply a verification of the internal representation of the external world ie. the picture we see in our minds of the external world, which constitutes an inadequate and indeed incorrect characterization of what is actually happening in our brains. Rather, we are actively creating the world when we perceive it in what Seth calls a 'controlled hallucination'. He uses the word 'hallucination' because it describes a type of perception, one that is a projection, but it's a 'controlled' one because of the way we are actively shaping it, both in the way we perceive it, through layers of emotional and intellectual filters and lenses, and the way we are physically engaged in it, literally with our bodies, moving ourselves and objects around in time and space. It's in this interaction where 'meaning' comes into play. We can now understand that 'meaning' is the product of feedback. It's what meaning actually 'is', a layered processing of information associated with consciousness. Viktor Frankl, the well-known psychiatrist and author of Man's Search For Meaning, famously wrote that the primary purpose of life was to find meaning. By this reckoning it appears that meaning would be something to be searched for and 'found', by effort or volition, as if it were a product of freewill. In Frankl’s estimation, as a survivor of the Auschwitz death camp, the search for meaning is the ultimate act of freewill under conditions of almost total constraint, deprivation and suffering. But in reality it has nothing to do with freewill at all. Meaning is a description of the conscious brain's circular mechanism of processing information in the manner in which it generates a perception of the external world. And just as we 'see' the external in a certain way based on meanings, we are also physically altering it too, which in turn re-calibrates our 'meaning' of it. Most sentient creatures are limited in this regard while homosapiens have the most evolved capacity for this, which is the ultimate evolutionary advantage. Not just to be subject to the external environment in which we live but to shape it according to our meanings of it.  

Full of Hatred

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I hate that poets

think poetry 

is for studying

or to impress

other poets.

I hate the awards

they give to each other

so they feel okay

about not selling their books.

I hate readers who've given up

on poetry

because they mistake 

a good poem

for a test

of their intelligence. 

I hate publishers

who publish poetry

because they get government 

grants for it.

I hate writers 

too scared 

to call themselves

poets. 

I hate that I need 

to write this poem.

I hate this poem.

A Goddamn Mess

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Don't want no fancy house, 

Don't want no fancy car,

Don't want no fancy woman,

Don't want to be a star.

Never wanted money,

Just what I could earn,

Never asked to understand,

More than I can learn.

I'm a man so full of goodness,

Always done my best,

Can't say how I became,

Such a goddamn mess.

One time I had a woman,

Said her love was real,

I never could believe her,

Cause I don’t know how that feels.

Did my best to keep her,

But my woman didn't stay,

Said she couldn't be,

With a man who felt that way.

I told her

I'm a man so full of goodness,

Always done my best,

Can't say how I became, 

Such a goddamn mess.

One time I had a child,

Sweet as sweet can be,

My woman took my child,

So far away from me.

Can't cut a hole in water,

Tears are always wet,

One more thing you can rely on,

Is what you can't forget,

I'm a man so full of goodness,

Always done my best,

Can't say how I became,

Such a goddamn mess.

Mystery Solved

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I'm not much into

whether UFO's exist

stands for U Fuck Off

or whether machines

possess consciousness

only they would know

or what happens after we die

I'll find out eventually

but one mystery solved:

we care madly

about sports teams

because their successes 

are ours 

but their failures 

are all theirs.

Even More Random Thoughts: The Loop of Consciousness

"What we see, we see   

and seeing is changing"

- Adrienne Rich

A machine cannot be conscious because machines are unidirectional, they can only operate in one direction at a time. A fundamental aspect of consciousness is that it operates as a loop, inputs and outputs happening virtually simultaneously. A crude machine is essentially the transfer of energy to perform a task. For example, energy is applied to a lever (the simplest machine), the energy is transferred and the weight lifts. In a more advanced machine, say a chess playing computer, a task may be performed, which changes the environment (as in the weight lifted), and then the machine responds to the changed circumstance. The chess playing machine makes a move, registers a new situation, which changes the next response based on a predetermined program  of logic and algorithm. This sort of 'intelligence', the ability to process 'if-then' instructions and follow steps, is something that the human brain does of course, and computers can and will increasingly do more efficiently. But, as we all know, the human mind does so much more, and that 'more' is what we think of as the distinguishing elements of consciousness. 

The human mind is a 'machine' that not only responds to the environment it perceives, it 'reconceives' it as well. What do I mean by this? The chess playing machine will make each move based on every new situation that arises, but it will not begin to view the board, the pieces, the rules of the game, or the opponent any differently. In fact, there are basic elements of the game itself that must remain the same (call them 'parameters') for the machine to be able to operate competently. The conscious mind, on the other hand, takes in stimuli and responds to it, but it also changes the way it sees what it's seeing as well. This is colloquially talked about as the 'lenses' through which we view the world, which informs our response, which in turn changes what is being perceived, which in turn changes our response ad infinitem. In other words our response to the external world (stimuli) is based as much on what we project as it is on what we take in - another word for that is "meaning". This is a property unique to consciousness, and especially to human consciousness in terms of the layers of activity that constitute our consciousness compared to that of other sentient creatures. The implications are profound. While all sentient creatures chiefly adapt to externalities (in a Darwinian sense), we are the only creatures who influence externalities to conform to internalities, and this is a complex dynamic that has vast unforeseeable consequences. It's one of the aspects that makes the future so unpredictable. Some thinkers have described this unique aspect of human consciousness as 'noticing what you notice' (or noticing that you notice). And they say that this 'reflective capacity' developed in us because it offers formidable advantage in evolutionary terms. It creates a double and triple check on perception, which means that there is less chance that we can be fooled or tricked in the fight for survival. And this need to double-check our perception is critical, because perception is faulty, and many creatures have evolved the ability to take advantage of faulty perception eg. camouflage. And even better, it means that we can shape the environment to our advantage as opposed to continually having to adapt to our environment, which is ultimately why we are the apex predator. Our propensity and capacity to shape our environment to internal impulses (without regard to external facts and contingencies) also provides insight into our capacity to destroy it.

Quantum mechanics, which describes subatomic particles existing in two states simultaneously (spin up and spin down, until they are 'measured') appears to be analogous to the consciousness loop ie. the state of input and output happening simultaneously.

The Size of Love

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The car is full of gas, 

The monthly rent's been paid,

I seem to have the feeling,

I've almost got it made.

The fridge is full of food,

The shirt I wear is clean,

It's hard to know if life is good,

When you've always had it lean.

There's a hole inside

The size of love 

That nobody can feed,

I'm never sure 

If I can get 

Exactly what I need.

A sandwich has two slices,

A bird two wings to fly,

It feels like something's missing,

No matter what I try. 

Got friends who listen to me,

And a roof over my head,

Money in my pocket, 

And a gun next to my bed.

There's a hole inside

The size of love 

That nobody can feed,

I'm never sure

If I can get 

Exactly what I need.

Today I Heard AI Sing

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Today I heard AI sing.

It played all the instruments.

Wrote the song too.

It was like a Beatles song

and AI sang like Paul McCartney 

and John Lennon.

It wrote a Nirvana song

and sang it like Kurt Kobain.

It wrote a Bruce Springsteen song

and sang it like Bruce,

I couldn't tell the difference.

I'm happy AI can sing like Paul, John,

Kurt and Bruce. 

I'm happy AI can paint like DaVinci

and Van Gogh,

and write like Hemingway 

and Camus.

Soon there will be 

AI versions

of every artist, and then

AI artists 

better than the originals. 

It doesn't worry me.

Tonight, I'll strap on my guitar

and pick up my harmonica

and do my best rendition 

of The Time's They Are a-Changin'.

Doesn't matter 

AI can sing it 

more like Dylan did.

I can't wait to see what AI

does next,

maybe write a poem

like this one.

Caught Fish

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There is something in us 

that desires to live,

when we're young

it flip flops wildly 

wet and slippery  

like a caught fish 

in a bucket

twisting 

impatient

splashing about. 

By midlife

the desire

is more settled, 

it strives in us 

gasping visibly

pumping

sporadically

with strain and effort,

behind a strategy 

like sport,

an eye

that is game-plan 

focused.

Later

it settles down in us

and we learn how

to accept;

we understand 

that no misfortune 

endured 

is futile

and to take solace

in small victories,

love is tied

to meaning

like a stringer 

of the day's haul 

hooked to the gunnel

on the slow troll 

home.

Top 10 Gordon Lightfoot Lyrics

(in no particular order)

Lightfoot's lyrics have been described as narrative and hauntingly lyrical. My favourite lines of his tend toward the confessional, dark, sad and longing.

1. I can see her lying back in her satin dress/ In a room where you do what you don't confess.

- Sundown

2. The wind in the wires made a tattle-tale sound/ And a wave broke over the railing/

And every man knew, as the captain did too/ T'was the witch of November come stealin'.

- The Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald

3. But stories always end/ And if you read between the lines/

You'll know that I'm just trying to understand/ The feelings that you lack.

- If You Could Read My Mind 

4. And I must say it means so much to me/ To be the one who's telling you/

I'm telling you/ That you're beautiful.

- Beautiful 

5. Rainy day lovers don't lie when they tell you, they've been down there too/

Rainy day people don't mind if you're cryin' a tear or two.

- Rainy Day People

6. In the early morning rain with a dollar in my hand/ 

With an aching in my heart and my pockets full of sand/

I'm a long way from home, Lord, I miss my loved ones so/ 

In the early morning rain with no place to go.

- Early Morning Rain

7. Turning back the pages to the times I love best/ 

I wonder if she'll ever do the same?/ Now the thing that I call living/ 

Is just being satisfied/ With knowing I got no one left to blame.

- Carefree Highway

8. Oh, there was a time in this fair land when the railroad did not run/ 

When the wild majestic mountains stood alone against the sun/

Long before the white man and long before the wheel/ 

When the green dark forest was too silent to be real.

- Canadian Railroad Trilogy

9. And if you saw him now/ You'd wonder why he would cry/ The whole day long.

- The Summer Side of Life

10. See the jailor with his key/ Who locks away all trace of sin/

See the judge upon the bench/ Who tries the case as best he can/

See the wise and wicked ones/ Who feed upon life's sacred fire/ 

See the soldier with his gun/ Who must be dead to be admired.

- Don Quixote