Tuesday, November 15, 2011


 
      That thing which is me, is a property of matter.  Easy enough to say and bound to produce the glass eye, the suspicious nod and a polite excuse that puts attention in more practical places.
    
       I will say most believe the thing that is me has its presence on some other plain, and soon enough when the shades fall, when the experiment is over, this other plain will be revealed to me, and I will feel foolish.
  
       I could say the thing that is me has not yet been discovered.  It is if you like an alien. And when it is discovered there will be an anxiety in the social similar to that anxiety predicted to occur should Alpha Centaurians appear on the horizon in space ships. 

       Cynics might point out that fortunately in my species the social contains a political process, which no matter the circumstance has the sole function of constructing and maintaining illusions.  Which means we'll adapt.



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