Wednesday, December 31, 2014

Re: Mind's Eye 2015

Indeed, good luck all.  What are our resolutions?  My first is broken already - not to get up early (pouncing dog with Labrador breath pretending to be the New Year fairy).  Will Allan become the first man to conquer Everest on an electric Zimmer, can I beat him to the top with my hydrogen fuel cell driven model and will Gabby be waiting there on her muon-catalyst driven broomstick?  Read all about it here!

On Thursday, January 1, 2015 12:50:52 AM UTC, RP Singh wrote:
Happy New Year to you and all Allan.

On Thu, Jan 1, 2015 at 4:40 AM, <allanh1946@gmail.com> wrote:
May everyone have a good 2015
Success
Allan

~~
لا القتل، والاغتصاب أو استعباد الآخرين
Do not murder,  rape or enslave others

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Re: Mind's Eye 2015

Happy New Year to you and all Allan.

On Thu, Jan 1, 2015 at 4:40 AM, <allanh1946@gmail.com> wrote:
May everyone have a good 2015
Success
Allan

~~
لا القتل، والاغتصاب أو استعباد الآخرين
Do not murder,  rape or enslave others

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Mind's Eye 2015

May everyone have a good 2015
Success
Allan

~~
لا القتل، والاغتصاب أو استعباد الآخرين
Do not murder,  rape or enslave others

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Re: Mind's Eye Re: Voice in the head

My Sis played as a mean defender in hockey played on grass Pol.  I don't remember anyone getting past her alive.  Played a few games myself, but felt safer facing fast bowling in cricket.

The comics have something to say, though summary justice faces many problems, including revenge and the constant wars of some primitive societies.  I used to like Maigret and his ability to weigh justice in his own hands.  The dark Batman of the comics can be good and the camp television series was a must watch.  Killing bad guys and capital punishment would be OK by me if we weren't so prejudiced and incompetent.  The Keystone Cops was more accurate than most suppose.  I'd like to see a superhero called 'Bureaucratic Bungler' - I worked with enough and could put up a fair effort in the role myself.  Burner eventually put an end to himself in a mattress fire.

Killing is odd and contextual.  Genocide has been fairly routine in our history and we generally hide that.  Comics don't like to dwell on this kind of thing, other than in setting up some new savages or Nazis to mow down.  I'd be inclined to a story where the heroes discover they have been drugged into targeting the wrong bad guys and finally get after the bankers and politicians Untouchables-style.  But really we need more participation in policing and the military to ensure a democratic base and to stop politicians and lawyers dominating.  This said, I like Judge Dredd!

On Wednesday, December 31, 2014 4:32:11 PM UTC, pol.science kid wrote:
I hate jimmy the burner.. by the description of him... I recently got into comic books.. too late i know.. but well currently im just fascinated by them,In the latest version of 'Injustice'...they bring up the age old issue... do good guys have the right to 'kill' the criminals to prevent loss of human lives... well academically i disagree with this on ethics and what not.. but when i really think about it... i think i would like to put an end to someone who does this kind of nasty work even if 'God told them to' ha ha... In 'Injustice' they show Superman takes revenge when the Joker kills his pregnant girlfriend, so he kills the Joker and then slowly turns into this Protector of the innocent tyrant, while Batman and the others some think that he shouldnt be this Great Alien Ruler kind of the Earth... going around killing the 'evil'guys.. and try to get a forced Peace.. although i dislike Superman.. i secretly side with him.. When you say Hockey.. do you mean Ice hockey or the other one?The other one is very big in my country...   

On Wed, Dec 31, 2014 at 6:03 PM, archytas <nwterry@gmail.com> wrote:
Jimmy didn't have the wit to do Allan's rationalisation.  Dragged up through the Protestant thorn-bush myself, I always tried not to hate him - the shame for me, still residual, is I wasn't able to help.  I still have occasional replays in bad dreams.  There was a big cover-up over 'The Burner' - in regard of his known history and who knew what about him as a danger to himself and the public - in fact there was a long history of social workers and cops unable to do anything for him and a long report presented to a previous court.  The nickname arose on the estate he lived on, suggesting everyone knew.  There was an incident in his cell when I was getting him to sign his confession.  I got the charge office PC (Jailer) to slop some disinfectant under his cot, offered Jimmy a fag and lit my Zippo.  Jimmy's 'interpretation' of this was that I was about to consign him to the fires of hell.  It was honestly all about the smell.  The charge office PC, known only as 'Nobbo' in appreciation of his predilection for head butting prisoners, was highly impressed with my "interrogation technique" and regarded me with new respect thereafter.  I sometimes wish myself capable of such cunning, but surely, if I had meant to inspire Jimmy's reaction, I'd have got him to cough to the Corned Beef Robbery that was a royal pain in the nether regions of CID at the time.

In terms of Pol's 'words in the head', I fortunately don't have these words in conscious view, other than in trauma (blessedly occasional), unless my attention is attracted to recall.  We might wonder on their form in boxes of generally unopened memory.  In ethnomethodology there is always more to recall, though once we start there are issues concerning whether anyone else has the attention span to turn the page.

I have an image of me coming out of that cell 'clutching' Jimmy's confession.  In fact, I carried it between finger and thumb and at arm's length, leaving it near an open window as I typed up various proformas, before sticking it in the brown case-file and dumping that in the DI's in-tray.  Even this recall leaves out my hope never to hear another jot about Jimmy, later sight of the DI spraying the file with air freshener and whether Jimmy could ever commit a crime - unlike other scuzz bags like Ugli Ray Terret whose rape career must have been marginally curtailed when he was locked up for theft (and other hopes on like for like retribution in gaol) - and loads more before one brings in potential reactions, like slipping further into Gabby's approbation as a Big Brother minion.  Recall, it seems is endless even before one considers reception and such as why a serial paedophile rapist could be convicted 35 years on and not at the time when evidence was fresh.

Nobbo was so impressed with my supra-Gestapo methods he had two of his even bigger mates drag me to the pub at end of watch.  These guys were leftovers from the days when height and granite foreheads had been the main recruitment criteria.  It was a boiler-maker day, though there was none of that American nonsense of wasting good whiskey by tossing the spirit glass into the bottom of the beer, spoiling the taste and evading what made you a real man, namely a burning oesophagus and a personality driven by gastric ulcers.  There's probably a novel in Nobbo's reasoning on why he and his mates could be seen associating with a Jock dwarf who had passed the promotion exams.  I must be all right if I'd burned a confession out of an arsonist and there was that fight I'd had with a tiger that had come off second best.  I held the record for police brutality complaints (seven chummies in a row in one morning in Magistrates' Court).  What a guy!

Nobbo's stories had occasional threads of truth.  There had been a tiger, though it was stuffed, and the armed burglar I pushed it on top of had had the fight with it and lost.  The fire had all been in Jimmy's "mind".  The brutality complaints were all untrue and made by the same solicitor giving his clients, doomed on actual evidence, a run for their money.  He'd had the decency to take me out for dinner on his proceeds from Legal Aid.  We'd played in the same university rugby team and he was a little guilty that our private joke had added several months to his clients' sentences.

The Corned Beef lorry-hyjack-robbery robbery began to be cleared up in the pub.  Nobbo's particularly large mate, Geoff 'the badger' Betts, so called after an incident in which he had recovered a missing child alive by digging her out of a foul dungeon with his bare hands (truth more interesting - he used a JCB, was bald and far too big for anyone to risk calling him as bald as a badger) - question: what words do we focus out of mind into speech or text? - anyway Badger pulled me over to the bar during the after-hours lock in, telling me there was something I should see.  Vision wasn't on form, though I had noticed all the designated drivers were drunk.  I could see the landlord's Jack Russell eating greedily.  Badger separated the beast from its food dish, waving both in turn too close to my nose.  The dog was eating corned beef.  The landlord's wife had bought a ton of the stuff, the same brand as the blagg.  Ten grand's worth of corned beef might not seem much to worry about and Fray Bentos was about to cease being a brand in the UK, given Thatcher's coming and convenient war with Argentina over an obsolete sheep farm.  But the lorry driver had just died in hospital, conveniently not adding to murder statistics by lasting more than 385 days after the brutal assault.  Fray Bentos was manufacturing in Brazil by then, but most Brits favoured nuking Rio in retaliation for the occupation of South Georgia by Argentinian scrap merchants.  A book later and you'd know who nicked the corned beef and the story is a 'film noir'.

None of this is true, of course.  It can't be as we all told very different stories in court.  So what are words, even if exchanged between people not typing on broken Enigma machines?  Are the words in Pol's head or mine (anyone's) already focused on what we dare to say to others, or the context of a system of evidence or the frozen morality of mannered political correctness and entertainment?

Draw us a picture Tony.  I guess we could soon exceed the 1000-word limit imposed on one of them, quickly ensuring all but the brave focused their attention on the wine waiter before realising they have to buy a sculpture to get out of the gallery, past Nobbo and Badger at the entrance!  My favourite sculpture is by Steve Bell, a caricature of Thatcher, 'carved from the living guano' with the inscription 'she snatched a bloody war from the jaws of a peaceful settlement'.

I've not had Allan's warm experience.  At our age we might share a joke about what old men have just done when they get one.  My version concerns a 4 billion year old civilisation - the Nool on Boolis beyond the Bootes void - tired of the search for god and soul they built their own only to discover the technological life was neither, though made them all much happier.  Several chapters later, they are at Earth, one of the paradise planet-failures once assumed a part of their merely mythical past.  I kiss one.  They are arthropod of arachnid origin, so don't accuse me of getting too close to my ants Toe Knee (we say 'a-bumps-e-daisy' after that here).

What are words?  Allan's warm thingy I wish I'd had?  Why like someone who seems to feed on rejection?  Why did Tony get that representational skill I'm both jealous of and somewhat joyous is in the world he has shared some of with us?  How do I know the Nool when it would take our technology a million years to get to them?  What role do future memories have in evaluating the present - 'work ethic' looks particularly stupid once robots can do more or less anything - and when most of our efforts go to the one percent for that matter  ...

Brave New Year to all
Love to Gabbs for tolerating me treating her like the Big Sister I always miss - always my greatest critic and never absent from any rugby match I played in unless there was a hockey match she could display her county-level killing skills in.



On Tuesday, December 30, 2014 11:49:28 PM UTC, facilitator wrote:
There was a time when "Jimmy The Burner" had the blessing of the Church.

On Tuesday, December 30, 2014 3:44:15 PM UTC-5, archytas wrote:
You know I have no qualms on effects on you.  At about the same time, I was discovering something about what was going on in the brains of people no one would want to meet - my first involved listening to an arsonist who had just killed two children.  A smelly, grubby little man with a smell I still remember, he was racked with guilt and protesting he had been acting on god's instructions, including his not guilty plea.  I had him bang to rights, but the court bailed him.  He burned his wife to death a couple of days later, only managing to scorch his hands, having doused himself with disinfectant, mistaking it for petrol.  He didn't interest me much, though the system's failure to protect those who should have mattered did.  I haven't gone much on internally justified epistemology since  The system has probably gone further down the pan too.  My chief constable at the time was a prophet of god.  I went off religion.  How do you know its going to turn you into an admirable old silver-basher or Jimmy-the-Burner?

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Re: Mind's Eye Re: Voice in the head

I hate jimmy the burner.. by the description of him... I recently got into comic books.. too late i know.. but well currently im just fascinated by them,In the latest version of 'Injustice'...they bring up the age old issue... do good guys have the right to 'kill' the criminals to prevent loss of human lives... well academically i disagree with this on ethics and what not.. but when i really think about it... i think i would like to put an end to someone who does this kind of nasty work even if 'God told them to' ha ha... In 'Injustice' they show Superman takes revenge when the Joker kills his pregnant girlfriend, so he kills the Joker and then slowly turns into this Protector of the innocent tyrant, while Batman and the others some think that he shouldnt be this Great Alien Ruler kind of the Earth... going around killing the 'evil'guys.. and try to get a forced Peace.. although i dislike Superman.. i secretly side with him.. When you say Hockey.. do you mean Ice hockey or the other one?The other one is very big in my country...   

On Wed, Dec 31, 2014 at 6:03 PM, archytas <nwterry@gmail.com> wrote:
Jimmy didn't have the wit to do Allan's rationalisation.  Dragged up through the Protestant thorn-bush myself, I always tried not to hate him - the shame for me, still residual, is I wasn't able to help.  I still have occasional replays in bad dreams.  There was a big cover-up over 'The Burner' - in regard of his known history and who knew what about him as a danger to himself and the public - in fact there was a long history of social workers and cops unable to do anything for him and a long report presented to a previous court.  The nickname arose on the estate he lived on, suggesting everyone knew.  There was an incident in his cell when I was getting him to sign his confession.  I got the charge office PC (Jailer) to slop some disinfectant under his cot, offered Jimmy a fag and lit my Zippo.  Jimmy's 'interpretation' of this was that I was about to consign him to the fires of hell.  It was honestly all about the smell.  The charge office PC, known only as 'Nobbo' in appreciation of his predilection for head butting prisoners, was highly impressed with my "interrogation technique" and regarded me with new respect thereafter.  I sometimes wish myself capable of such cunning, but surely, if I had meant to inspire Jimmy's reaction, I'd have got him to cough to the Corned Beef Robbery that was a royal pain in the nether regions of CID at the time.

In terms of Pol's 'words in the head', I fortunately don't have these words in conscious view, other than in trauma (blessedly occasional), unless my attention is attracted to recall.  We might wonder on their form in boxes of generally unopened memory.  In ethnomethodology there is always more to recall, though once we start there are issues concerning whether anyone else has the attention span to turn the page.

I have an image of me coming out of that cell 'clutching' Jimmy's confession.  In fact, I carried it between finger and thumb and at arm's length, leaving it near an open window as I typed up various proformas, before sticking it in the brown case-file and dumping that in the DI's in-tray.  Even this recall leaves out my hope never to hear another jot about Jimmy, later sight of the DI spraying the file with air freshener and whether Jimmy could ever commit a crime - unlike other scuzz bags like Ugli Ray Terret whose rape career must have been marginally curtailed when he was locked up for theft (and other hopes on like for like retribution in gaol) - and loads more before one brings in potential reactions, like slipping further into Gabby's approbation as a Big Brother minion.  Recall, it seems is endless even before one considers reception and such as why a serial paedophile rapist could be convicted 35 years on and not at the time when evidence was fresh.

Nobbo was so impressed with my supra-Gestapo methods he had two of his even bigger mates drag me to the pub at end of watch.  These guys were leftovers from the days when height and granite foreheads had been the main recruitment criteria.  It was a boiler-maker day, though there was none of that American nonsense of wasting good whiskey by tossing the spirit glass into the bottom of the beer, spoiling the taste and evading what made you a real man, namely a burning oesophagus and a personality driven by gastric ulcers.  There's probably a novel in Nobbo's reasoning on why he and his mates could be seen associating with a Jock dwarf who had passed the promotion exams.  I must be all right if I'd burned a confession out of an arsonist and there was that fight I'd had with a tiger that had come off second best.  I held the record for police brutality complaints (seven chummies in a row in one morning in Magistrates' Court).  What a guy!

Nobbo's stories had occasional threads of truth.  There had been a tiger, though it was stuffed, and the armed burglar I pushed it on top of had had the fight with it and lost.  The fire had all been in Jimmy's "mind".  The brutality complaints were all untrue and made by the same solicitor giving his clients, doomed on actual evidence, a run for their money.  He'd had the decency to take me out for dinner on his proceeds from Legal Aid.  We'd played in the same university rugby team and he was a little guilty that our private joke had added several months to his clients' sentences.

The Corned Beef lorry-hyjack-robbery robbery began to be cleared up in the pub.  Nobbo's particularly large mate, Geoff 'the badger' Betts, so called after an incident in which he had recovered a missing child alive by digging her out of a foul dungeon with his bare hands (truth more interesting - he used a JCB, was bald and far too big for anyone to risk calling him as bald as a badger) - question: what words do we focus out of mind into speech or text? - anyway Badger pulled me over to the bar during the after-hours lock in, telling me there was something I should see.  Vision wasn't on form, though I had noticed all the designated drivers were drunk.  I could see the landlord's Jack Russell eating greedily.  Badger separated the beast from its food dish, waving both in turn too close to my nose.  The dog was eating corned beef.  The landlord's wife had bought a ton of the stuff, the same brand as the blagg.  Ten grand's worth of corned beef might not seem much to worry about and Fray Bentos was about to cease being a brand in the UK, given Thatcher's coming and convenient war with Argentina over an obsolete sheep farm.  But the lorry driver had just died in hospital, conveniently not adding to murder statistics by lasting more than 385 days after the brutal assault.  Fray Bentos was manufacturing in Brazil by then, but most Brits favoured nuking Rio in retaliation for the occupation of South Georgia by Argentinian scrap merchants.  A book later and you'd know who nicked the corned beef and the story is a 'film noir'.

None of this is true, of course.  It can't be as we all told very different stories in court.  So what are words, even if exchanged between people not typing on broken Enigma machines?  Are the words in Pol's head or mine (anyone's) already focused on what we dare to say to others, or the context of a system of evidence or the frozen morality of mannered political correctness and entertainment?

Draw us a picture Tony.  I guess we could soon exceed the 1000-word limit imposed on one of them, quickly ensuring all but the brave focused their attention on the wine waiter before realising they have to buy a sculpture to get out of the gallery, past Nobbo and Badger at the entrance!  My favourite sculpture is by Steve Bell, a caricature of Thatcher, 'carved from the living guano' with the inscription 'she snatched a bloody war from the jaws of a peaceful settlement'.

I've not had Allan's warm experience.  At our age we might share a joke about what old men have just done when they get one.  My version concerns a 4 billion year old civilisation - the Nool on Boolis beyond the Bootes void - tired of the search for god and soul they built their own only to discover the technological life was neither, though made them all much happier.  Several chapters later, they are at Earth, one of the paradise planet-failures once assumed a part of their merely mythical past.  I kiss one.  They are arthropod of arachnid origin, so don't accuse me of getting too close to my ants Toe Knee (we say 'a-bumps-e-daisy' after that here).

What are words?  Allan's warm thingy I wish I'd had?  Why like someone who seems to feed on rejection?  Why did Tony get that representational skill I'm both jealous of and somewhat joyous is in the world he has shared some of with us?  How do I know the Nool when it would take our technology a million years to get to them?  What role do future memories have in evaluating the present - 'work ethic' looks particularly stupid once robots can do more or less anything - and when most of our efforts go to the one percent for that matter  ...

Brave New Year to all
Love to Gabbs for tolerating me treating her like the Big Sister I always miss - always my greatest critic and never absent from any rugby match I played in unless there was a hockey match she could display her county-level killing skills in.



On Tuesday, December 30, 2014 11:49:28 PM UTC, facilitator wrote:
There was a time when "Jimmy The Burner" had the blessing of the Church.

On Tuesday, December 30, 2014 3:44:15 PM UTC-5, archytas wrote:
You know I have no qualms on effects on you.  At about the same time, I was discovering something about what was going on in the brains of people no one would want to meet - my first involved listening to an arsonist who had just killed two children.  A smelly, grubby little man with a smell I still remember, he was racked with guilt and protesting he had been acting on god's instructions, including his not guilty plea.  I had him bang to rights, but the court bailed him.  He burned his wife to death a couple of days later, only managing to scorch his hands, having doused himself with disinfectant, mistaking it for petrol.  He didn't interest me much, though the system's failure to protect those who should have mattered did.  I haven't gone much on internally justified epistemology since  The system has probably gone further down the pan too.  My chief constable at the time was a prophet of god.  I went off religion.  How do you know its going to turn you into an admirable old silver-basher or Jimmy-the-Burner?

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Re: Mind's Eye Re: Voice in the head

Jimmy didn't have the wit to do Allan's rationalisation.  Dragged up through the Protestant thorn-bush myself, I always tried not to hate him - the shame for me, still residual, is I wasn't able to help.  I still have occasional replays in bad dreams.  There was a big cover-up over 'The Burner' - in regard of his known history and who knew what about him as a danger to himself and the public - in fact there was a long history of social workers and cops unable to do anything for him and a long report presented to a previous court.  The nickname arose on the estate he lived on, suggesting everyone knew.  There was an incident in his cell when I was getting him to sign his confession.  I got the charge office PC (Jailer) to slop some disinfectant under his cot, offered Jimmy a fag and lit my Zippo.  Jimmy's 'interpretation' of this was that I was about to consign him to the fires of hell.  It was honestly all about the smell.  The charge office PC, known only as 'Nobbo' in appreciation of his predilection for head butting prisoners, was highly impressed with my "interrogation technique" and regarded me with new respect thereafter.  I sometimes wish myself capable of such cunning, but surely, if I had meant to inspire Jimmy's reaction, I'd have got him to cough to the Corned Beef Robbery that was a royal pain in the nether regions of CID at the time.

In terms of Pol's 'words in the head', I fortunately don't have these words in conscious view, other than in trauma (blessedly occasional), unless my attention is attracted to recall.  We might wonder on their form in boxes of generally unopened memory.  In ethnomethodology there is always more to recall, though once we start there are issues concerning whether anyone else has the attention span to turn the page.

I have an image of me coming out of that cell 'clutching' Jimmy's confession.  In fact, I carried it between finger and thumb and at arm's length, leaving it near an open window as I typed up various proformas, before sticking it in the brown case-file and dumping that in the DI's in-tray.  Even this recall leaves out my hope never to hear another jot about Jimmy, later sight of the DI spraying the file with air freshener and whether Jimmy could ever commit a crime - unlike other scuzz bags like Ugli Ray Terret whose rape career must have been marginally curtailed when he was locked up for theft (and other hopes on like for like retribution in gaol) - and loads more before one brings in potential reactions, like slipping further into Gabby's approbation as a Big Brother minion.  Recall, it seems is endless even before one considers reception and such as why a serial paedophile rapist could be convicted 35 years on and not at the time when evidence was fresh.

Nobbo was so impressed with my supra-Gestapo methods he had two of his even bigger mates drag me to the pub at end of watch.  These guys were leftovers from the days when height and granite foreheads had been the main recruitment criteria.  It was a boiler-maker day, though there was none of that American nonsense of wasting good whiskey by tossing the spirit glass into the bottom of the beer, spoiling the taste and evading what made you a real man, namely a burning oesophagus and a personality driven by gastric ulcers.  There's probably a novel in Nobbo's reasoning on why he and his mates could be seen associating with a Jock dwarf who had passed the promotion exams.  I must be all right if I'd burned a confession out of an arsonist and there was that fight I'd had with a tiger that had come off second best.  I held the record for police brutality complaints (seven chummies in a row in one morning in Magistrates' Court).  What a guy!

Nobbo's stories had occasional threads of truth.  There had been a tiger, though it was stuffed, and the armed burglar I pushed it on top of had had the fight with it and lost.  The fire had all been in Jimmy's "mind".  The brutality complaints were all untrue and made by the same solicitor giving his clients, doomed on actual evidence, a run for their money.  He'd had the decency to take me out for dinner on his proceeds from Legal Aid.  We'd played in the same university rugby team and he was a little guilty that our private joke had added several months to his clients' sentences.

The Corned Beef lorry-hyjack-robbery robbery began to be cleared up in the pub.  Nobbo's particularly large mate, Geoff 'the badger' Betts, so called after an incident in which he had recovered a missing child alive by digging her out of a foul dungeon with his bare hands (truth more interesting - he used a JCB, was bald and far too big for anyone to risk calling him as bald as a badger) - question: what words do we focus out of mind into speech or text? - anyway Badger pulled me over to the bar during the after-hours lock in, telling me there was something I should see.  Vision wasn't on form, though I had noticed all the designated drivers were drunk.  I could see the landlord's Jack Russell eating greedily.  Badger separated the beast from its food dish, waving both in turn too close to my nose.  The dog was eating corned beef.  The landlord's wife had bought a ton of the stuff, the same brand as the blagg.  Ten grand's worth of corned beef might not seem much to worry about and Fray Bentos was about to cease being a brand in the UK, given Thatcher's coming and convenient war with Argentina over an obsolete sheep farm.  But the lorry driver had just died in hospital, conveniently not adding to murder statistics by lasting more than 385 days after the brutal assault.  Fray Bentos was manufacturing in Brazil by then, but most Brits favoured nuking Rio in retaliation for the occupation of South Georgia by Argentinian scrap merchants.  A book later and you'd know who nicked the corned beef and the story is a 'film noir'.

None of this is true, of course.  It can't be as we all told very different stories in court.  So what are words, even if exchanged between people not typing on broken Enigma machines?  Are the words in Pol's head or mine (anyone's) already focused on what we dare to say to others, or the context of a system of evidence or the frozen morality of mannered political correctness and entertainment?

Draw us a picture Tony.  I guess we could soon exceed the 1000-word limit imposed on one of them, quickly ensuring all but the brave focused their attention on the wine waiter before realising they have to buy a sculpture to get out of the gallery, past Nobbo and Badger at the entrance!  My favourite sculpture is by Steve Bell, a caricature of Thatcher, 'carved from the living guano' with the inscription 'she snatched a bloody war from the jaws of a peaceful settlement'.

I've not had Allan's warm experience.  At our age we might share a joke about what old men have just done when they get one.  My version concerns a 4 billion year old civilisation - the Nool on Boolis beyond the Bootes void - tired of the search for god and soul they built their own only to discover the technological life was neither, though made them all much happier.  Several chapters later, they are at Earth, one of the paradise planet-failures once assumed a part of their merely mythical past.  I kiss one.  They are arthropod of arachnid origin, so don't accuse me of getting too close to my ants Toe Knee (we say 'a-bumps-e-daisy' after that here).

What are words?  Allan's warm thingy I wish I'd had?  Why like someone who seems to feed on rejection?  Why did Tony get that representational skill I'm both jealous of and somewhat joyous is in the world he has shared some of with us?  How do I know the Nool when it would take our technology a million years to get to them?  What role do future memories have in evaluating the present - 'work ethic' looks particularly stupid once robots can do more or less anything - and when most of our efforts go to the one percent for that matter  ...

Brave New Year to all
Love to Gabbs for tolerating me treating her like the Big Sister I always miss - always my greatest critic and never absent from any rugby match I played in unless there was a hockey match she could display her county-level killing skills in.



On Tuesday, December 30, 2014 11:49:28 PM UTC, facilitator wrote:
There was a time when "Jimmy The Burner" had the blessing of the Church.

On Tuesday, December 30, 2014 3:44:15 PM UTC-5, archytas wrote:
You know I have no qualms on effects on you.  At about the same time, I was discovering something about what was going on in the brains of people no one would want to meet - my first involved listening to an arsonist who had just killed two children.  A smelly, grubby little man with a smell I still remember, he was racked with guilt and protesting he had been acting on god's instructions, including his not guilty plea.  I had him bang to rights, but the court bailed him.  He burned his wife to death a couple of days later, only managing to scorch his hands, having doused himself with disinfectant, mistaking it for petrol.  He didn't interest me much, though the system's failure to protect those who should have mattered did.  I haven't gone much on internally justified epistemology since  The system has probably gone further down the pan too.  My chief constable at the time was a prophet of god.  I went off religion.  How do you know its going to turn you into an admirable old silver-basher or Jimmy-the-Burner?

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Tuesday, December 30, 2014

Re: Mind's Eye Re: Voice in the head

There was a time when "Jimmy The Burner" had the blessing of the Church.

On Tuesday, December 30, 2014 3:44:15 PM UTC-5, archytas wrote:
You know I have no qualms on effects on you.  At about the same time, I was discovering something about what was going on in the brains of people no one would want to meet - my first involved listening to an arsonist who had just killed two children.  A smelly, grubby little man with a smell I still remember, he was racked with guilt and protesting he had been acting on god's instructions, including his not guilty plea.  I had him bang to rights, but the court bailed him.  He burned his wife to death a couple of days later, only managing to scorch his hands, having doused himself with disinfectant, mistaking it for petrol.  He didn't interest me much, though the system's failure to protect those who should have mattered did.  I haven't gone much on internally justified epistemology since  The system has probably gone further down the pan too.  My chief constable at the time was a prophet of god.  I went off religion.  How do you know its going to turn you into an admirable old silver-basher or Jimmy-the-Burner?

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Re: Mind's Eye Re: Voice in the head

I'm not the only one its happened to. It is very strange when it does occur. People that claim God told them to do something are probably trying to justify their misbehavior. 

Those that i have met with similar experiences saw the same thing it was always short, sweet and to the point with not many words spent.

Perspective changes you see things differently. What else is there to say.


~~
لا القتل، والاغتصاب أو استعباد الآخرين
Do not murder,  rape or enslave others

-----Original Message-----
From: archytas <nwterry@gmail.com>
To: minds-eye@googlegroups.com
Sent: Tue, 30 Dec 2014 9:44 PM
Subject: Re: Mind's Eye Re: Voice in the head

You know I have no qualms on effects on you.  At about the same time, I was discovering something about what was going on in the brains of people no one would want to meet - my first involved listening to an arsonist who had just killed two children.  A smelly, grubby little man with a smell I still remember, he was racked with guilt and protesting he had been acting on god's instructions, including his not guilty plea.  I had him bang to rights, but the court bailed him.  He burned his wife to death a couple of days later, only managing to scorch his hands, having doused himself with disinfectant, mistaking it for petrol.  He didn't interest me much, though the system's failure to protect those who should have mattered did.  I haven't gone much on internally justified epistemology since  The system has probably gone further down the pan too.  My chief constable at the time was a prophet of god.  I went off religion.  How do you know its going to turn you into an admirable old silver-basher or Jimmy-the-Burner?

On Tuesday, December 30, 2014 6:30:12 PM UTC, Allan Heretic wrote:
Actually the incident happened some ¿40? years ago.  Sorry Neil no instructions for mass murder plots or any instructions for that matter.. quite boring on that type of ideas. On the other hand for me it is very real and exciting.  What I learned is God is very real. My perspective changed and it no longer matters what the opinion of others is  I simply know God is real a nice Ace in the hole.

~~
لا القتل، والاغتصاب أو استعباد الآخرين
Do not murder,  rape or enslave others

-----Original Message-----
From: archytas <nwterry@gmail.com>
To: minds-eye@googlegroups.com
Sent: Tue, 30 Dec 2014 6:41 PM
Subject: Re: Mind's Eye Re: Voice in the head

You're listening to the BBC's god-slot Allan.  Things will get better when 'The Archers' comes on and you can mainline on idiocy.  Evidence from the soul hearing god was introduced to me by serial killers.  I have to say it sounds very different coming from you.  I suspect the lack of bodies buried in your garden is the deciding factor for me.  Such is the curse of materialism.  You can't find god or the soul with a spade.

On Tuesday, December 30, 2014 3:52:01 PM UTC, Allan Heretic wrote:
When you actually hear the voice of God you will know it. What idiots say doesn't matter.  Your soul controls the brain the sound whether audio or mental to the soul they sound the same.

~~
لا القتل، والاغتصاب أو استعباد الآخرين
Do not murder,  rape or enslave others

-----Original Message-----
From: polly skid <r.freebird@gmail.com>
To: Minds Eye <minds-eye@googlegroups.com>
Sent: Tue, 30 Dec 2014 3:25 PM
Subject: Re: Mind's Eye Re: Voice in the head

On what Andrew said.. yeah we dont hear words.. but suppose someone was hallucinating.. they would actually hear it right(coming from outside)..Like when they say God talks to them.. i wonder with what voice ...but we know the silent words are in our heads.. and the source of both is sort of the same... And when we are conflicted about something... there are never two voices in our heads are there?

On Tue, Dec 30, 2014 at 7:39 PM, andrew vecsey <andrewvecsey@gmail.com> wrote:
It is not that I "hear" words in my head. I just articulate my thoughts with silent words.

On Tuesday, December 30, 2014 1:54:51 PM UTC+1, archytas wrote:
I probably enjoy being confused by you Gabby. Allan, don't worry too much about the voices inside your head - I left the radio on.

Andrew - I'm off walking the hounds to think about what you've said.  Back to gruffle-wuffle later.  In talking of voices in the head, one has to be careful lest one get a schizo-diagnosis from someone who has read the DMS and a certificate from the madness authority to lock you up.  In the park, people find my dog-talking perfectly reasonable and many join in.  7 Acres would make a great sculpture park - imagine the dogs as art critics and people, finally, with something to lean on ... just a voice in my head Tony - nothing to do with me, just a left-over from one of Allan's Wendanta's (Peter Pan version).

On Tuesday, December 30, 2014 10:14:45 AM UTC, Gabby wrote:

And let me add: listen to something and/or someone new. I don't want to further confuse Neil with the aimlessness of my conversation style.

Am 30.12.2014 10:04 schrieb "Gabby" <gabb...@gmail.com>:
That's how we learn how to read and fall back to when words and meanings are jumbled up. It is a technique to disrupt the others flow of automated response. It is oftentimes the only chance to get others to listen to something new to them. Otherwise you have to keep using the slow, indirect feeding of attractive or fearful imagery, but you cannot be sure that they really get there where you want them to get.

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Re: Mind's Eye Re: Voice in the head

You know I have no qualms on effects on you.  At about the same time, I was discovering something about what was going on in the brains of people no one would want to meet - my first involved listening to an arsonist who had just killed two children.  A smelly, grubby little man with a smell I still remember, he was racked with guilt and protesting he had been acting on god's instructions, including his not guilty plea.  I had him bang to rights, but the court bailed him.  He burned his wife to death a couple of days later, only managing to scorch his hands, having doused himself with disinfectant, mistaking it for petrol.  He didn't interest me much, though the system's failure to protect those who should have mattered did.  I haven't gone much on internally justified epistemology since  The system has probably gone further down the pan too.  My chief constable at the time was a prophet of god.  I went off religion.  How do you know its going to turn you into an admirable old silver-basher or Jimmy-the-Burner?

On Tuesday, December 30, 2014 6:30:12 PM UTC, Allan Heretic wrote:
Actually the incident happened some ¿40? years ago.  Sorry Neil no instructions for mass murder plots or any instructions for that matter.. quite boring on that type of ideas. On the other hand for me it is very real and exciting.  What I learned is God is very real. My perspective changed and it no longer matters what the opinion of others is  I simply know God is real a nice Ace in the hole.

~~
لا القتل، والاغتصاب أو استعباد الآخرين
Do not murder,  rape or enslave others

-----Original Message-----
From: archytas <nwterry@gmail.com>
To: minds-eye@googlegroups.com
Sent: Tue, 30 Dec 2014 6:41 PM
Subject: Re: Mind's Eye Re: Voice in the head

You're listening to the BBC's god-slot Allan.  Things will get better when 'The Archers' comes on and you can mainline on idiocy.  Evidence from the soul hearing god was introduced to me by serial killers.  I have to say it sounds very different coming from you.  I suspect the lack of bodies buried in your garden is the deciding factor for me.  Such is the curse of materialism.  You can't find god or the soul with a spade.

On Tuesday, December 30, 2014 3:52:01 PM UTC, Allan Heretic wrote:
When you actually hear the voice of God you will know it. What idiots say doesn't matter.  Your soul controls the brain the sound whether audio or mental to the soul they sound the same.

~~
لا القتل، والاغتصاب أو استعباد الآخرين
Do not murder,  rape or enslave others

-----Original Message-----
From: polly skid <r.freebird@gmail.com>
To: Minds Eye <minds-eye@googlegroups.com>
Sent: Tue, 30 Dec 2014 3:25 PM
Subject: Re: Mind's Eye Re: Voice in the head

On what Andrew said.. yeah we dont hear words.. but suppose someone was hallucinating.. they would actually hear it right(coming from outside)..Like when they say God talks to them.. i wonder with what voice ...but we know the silent words are in our heads.. and the source of both is sort of the same... And when we are conflicted about something... there are never two voices in our heads are there?

On Tue, Dec 30, 2014 at 7:39 PM, andrew vecsey <andrewvecsey@gmail.com> wrote:
It is not that I "hear" words in my head. I just articulate my thoughts with silent words.

On Tuesday, December 30, 2014 1:54:51 PM UTC+1, archytas wrote:
I probably enjoy being confused by you Gabby. Allan, don't worry too much about the voices inside your head - I left the radio on.

Andrew - I'm off walking the hounds to think about what you've said.  Back to gruffle-wuffle later.  In talking of voices in the head, one has to be careful lest one get a schizo-diagnosis from someone who has read the DMS and a certificate from the madness authority to lock you up.  In the park, people find my dog-talking perfectly reasonable and many join in.  7 Acres would make a great sculpture park - imagine the dogs as art critics and people, finally, with something to lean on ... just a voice in my head Tony - nothing to do with me, just a left-over from one of Allan's Wendanta's (Peter Pan version).

On Tuesday, December 30, 2014 10:14:45 AM UTC, Gabby wrote:

And let me add: listen to something and/or someone new. I don't want to further confuse Neil with the aimlessness of my conversation style.

Am 30.12.2014 10:04 schrieb "Gabby" <gabb...@gmail.com>:
That's how we learn how to read and fall back to when words and meanings are jumbled up. It is a technique to disrupt the others flow of automated response. It is oftentimes the only chance to get others to listen to something new to them. Otherwise you have to keep using the slow, indirect feeding of attractive or fearful imagery, but you cannot be sure that they really get there where you want them to get.

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Re: Mind's Eye Re: Voice in the head

Actually the incident happened some ¿40? years ago.  Sorry Neil no instructions for mass murder plots or any instructions for that matter.. quite boring on that type of ideas. On the other hand for me it is very real and exciting.  What I learned is God is very real. My perspective changed and it no longer matters what the opinion of others is  I simply know God is real a nice Ace in the hole.

~~
لا القتل، والاغتصاب أو استعباد الآخرين
Do not murder,  rape or enslave others

-----Original Message-----
From: archytas <nwterry@gmail.com>
To: minds-eye@googlegroups.com
Sent: Tue, 30 Dec 2014 6:41 PM
Subject: Re: Mind's Eye Re: Voice in the head

You're listening to the BBC's god-slot Allan.  Things will get better when 'The Archers' comes on and you can mainline on idiocy.  Evidence from the soul hearing god was introduced to me by serial killers.  I have to say it sounds very different coming from you.  I suspect the lack of bodies buried in your garden is the deciding factor for me.  Such is the curse of materialism.  You can't find god or the soul with a spade.

On Tuesday, December 30, 2014 3:52:01 PM UTC, Allan Heretic wrote:
When you actually hear the voice of God you will know it. What idiots say doesn't matter.  Your soul controls the brain the sound whether audio or mental to the soul they sound the same.

~~
لا القتل، والاغتصاب أو استعباد الآخرين
Do not murder,  rape or enslave others

-----Original Message-----
From: polly skid <r.freebird@gmail.com>
To: Minds Eye <minds-eye@googlegroups.com>
Sent: Tue, 30 Dec 2014 3:25 PM
Subject: Re: Mind's Eye Re: Voice in the head

On what Andrew said.. yeah we dont hear words.. but suppose someone was hallucinating.. they would actually hear it right(coming from outside)..Like when they say God talks to them.. i wonder with what voice ...but we know the silent words are in our heads.. and the source of both is sort of the same... And when we are conflicted about something... there are never two voices in our heads are there?

On Tue, Dec 30, 2014 at 7:39 PM, andrew vecsey <andrewvecsey@gmail.com> wrote:
It is not that I "hear" words in my head. I just articulate my thoughts with silent words.

On Tuesday, December 30, 2014 1:54:51 PM UTC+1, archytas wrote:
I probably enjoy being confused by you Gabby. Allan, don't worry too much about the voices inside your head - I left the radio on.

Andrew - I'm off walking the hounds to think about what you've said.  Back to gruffle-wuffle later.  In talking of voices in the head, one has to be careful lest one get a schizo-diagnosis from someone who has read the DMS and a certificate from the madness authority to lock you up.  In the park, people find my dog-talking perfectly reasonable and many join in.  7 Acres would make a great sculpture park - imagine the dogs as art critics and people, finally, with something to lean on ... just a voice in my head Tony - nothing to do with me, just a left-over from one of Allan's Wendanta's (Peter Pan version).

On Tuesday, December 30, 2014 10:14:45 AM UTC, Gabby wrote:

And let me add: listen to something and/or someone new. I don't want to further confuse Neil with the aimlessness of my conversation style.

Am 30.12.2014 10:04 schrieb "Gabby" <gabb...@gmail.com>:
That's how we learn how to read and fall back to when words and meanings are jumbled up. It is a technique to disrupt the others flow of automated response. It is oftentimes the only chance to get others to listen to something new to them. Otherwise you have to keep using the slow, indirect feeding of attractive or fearful imagery, but you cannot be sure that they really get there where you want them to get.

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Re: Mind's Eye Re: Voice in the head

Our friend has a collective effect.  So did Max Stirner.  The last known ensemble of his union of egoists died in a pub fire, collectively forgetting to put the oil lamp out. To the ego her own.

On Tuesday, December 30, 2014 3:32:23 PM UTC, facilitator wrote:


On Tuesday, December 30, 2014 7:54:51 AM UTC-5, archytas wrote:
"I probably enjoy being confused by you Gabby."


Thank God, I thought it was me. 

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Re: Mind's Eye Re: Voice in the head

You're listening to the BBC's god-slot Allan.  Things will get better when 'The Archers' comes on and you can mainline on idiocy.  Evidence from the soul hearing god was introduced to me by serial killers.  I have to say it sounds very different coming from you.  I suspect the lack of bodies buried in your garden is the deciding factor for me.  Such is the curse of materialism.  You can't find god or the soul with a spade.

On Tuesday, December 30, 2014 3:52:01 PM UTC, Allan Heretic wrote:
When you actually hear the voice of God you will know it. What idiots say doesn't matter.  Your soul controls the brain the sound whether audio or mental to the soul they sound the same.

~~
لا القتل، والاغتصاب أو استعباد الآخرين
Do not murder,  rape or enslave others

-----Original Message-----
From: polly skid <r.freebird@gmail.com>
To: Minds Eye <minds-eye@googlegroups.com>
Sent: Tue, 30 Dec 2014 3:25 PM
Subject: Re: Mind's Eye Re: Voice in the head

On what Andrew said.. yeah we dont hear words.. but suppose someone was hallucinating.. they would actually hear it right(coming from outside)..Like when they say God talks to them.. i wonder with what voice ...but we know the silent words are in our heads.. and the source of both is sort of the same... And when we are conflicted about something... there are never two voices in our heads are there?

On Tue, Dec 30, 2014 at 7:39 PM, andrew vecsey <andrewvecsey@gmail.com> wrote:
It is not that I "hear" words in my head. I just articulate my thoughts with silent words.

On Tuesday, December 30, 2014 1:54:51 PM UTC+1, archytas wrote:
I probably enjoy being confused by you Gabby. Allan, don't worry too much about the voices inside your head - I left the radio on.

Andrew - I'm off walking the hounds to think about what you've said.  Back to gruffle-wuffle later.  In talking of voices in the head, one has to be careful lest one get a schizo-diagnosis from someone who has read the DMS and a certificate from the madness authority to lock you up.  In the park, people find my dog-talking perfectly reasonable and many join in.  7 Acres would make a great sculpture park - imagine the dogs as art critics and people, finally, with something to lean on ... just a voice in my head Tony - nothing to do with me, just a left-over from one of Allan's Wendanta's (Peter Pan version).

On Tuesday, December 30, 2014 10:14:45 AM UTC, Gabby wrote:

And let me add: listen to something and/or someone new. I don't want to further confuse Neil with the aimlessness of my conversation style.

Am 30.12.2014 10:04 schrieb "Gabby" <gabb...@gmail.com>:
That's how we learn how to read and fall back to when words and meanings are jumbled up. It is a technique to disrupt the others flow of automated response. It is oftentimes the only chance to get others to listen to something new to them. Otherwise you have to keep using the slow, indirect feeding of attractive or fearful imagery, but you cannot be sure that they really get there where you want them to get.

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Mind's Eye Re: Big Brother

Always had you down as a sticky character Tony.  I really don't care what religion anyone is glued to.  One could take the view I hate them all equally, but human goodness actually seems to triumph in other ways that matter.  Ideas of reciprocity, tolerance and hospitality work rather well on me.  A few glimmers of them is usually enough.  When I get particularly holy as an atheist the exit strategy has to be humour.

Not much fantasy left in Hollywood in my view.  They never seem to pay much tax on the billions either.  Nasa will be dismissed as pure fantasy soon, just as its satellites confirm global warming ... 

On Tuesday, December 30, 2014 3:28:13 PM UTC, facilitator wrote:
Fantasy seems like a worthwhile valid pursuit, it has generated billions for hollywood while NASA goes broke.

The Romans had all of the statues in place so why not give them the names of saints.   I have no problem at all with x trianity. It's its adherents I find lacking.  I can say that since I am an adherent.

Toe Knee


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Re: Mind's Eye Re: Voice in the head

When you actually hear the voice of God you will know it. What idiots say doesn't matter.  Your soul controls the brain the sound whether audio or mental to the soul they sound the same.

~~
لا القتل، والاغتصاب أو استعباد الآخرين
Do not murder,  rape or enslave others

-----Original Message-----
From: polly skid <r.freebird@gmail.com>
To: Minds Eye <minds-eye@googlegroups.com>
Sent: Tue, 30 Dec 2014 3:25 PM
Subject: Re: Mind's Eye Re: Voice in the head

On what Andrew said.. yeah we dont hear words.. but suppose someone was hallucinating.. they would actually hear it right(coming from outside)..Like when they say God talks to them.. i wonder with what voice ...but we know the silent words are in our heads.. and the source of both is sort of the same... And when we are conflicted about something... there are never two voices in our heads are there?

On Tue, Dec 30, 2014 at 7:39 PM, andrew vecsey <andrewvecsey@gmail.com> wrote:
It is not that I "hear" words in my head. I just articulate my thoughts with silent words.

On Tuesday, December 30, 2014 1:54:51 PM UTC+1, archytas wrote:
I probably enjoy being confused by you Gabby. Allan, don't worry too much about the voices inside your head - I left the radio on.

Andrew - I'm off walking the hounds to think about what you've said.  Back to gruffle-wuffle later.  In talking of voices in the head, one has to be careful lest one get a schizo-diagnosis from someone who has read the DMS and a certificate from the madness authority to lock you up.  In the park, people find my dog-talking perfectly reasonable and many join in.  7 Acres would make a great sculpture park - imagine the dogs as art critics and people, finally, with something to lean on ... just a voice in my head Tony - nothing to do with me, just a left-over from one of Allan's Wendanta's (Peter Pan version).

On Tuesday, December 30, 2014 10:14:45 AM UTC, Gabby wrote:

And let me add: listen to something and/or someone new. I don't want to further confuse Neil with the aimlessness of my conversation style.

Am 30.12.2014 10:04 schrieb "Gabby" <gabb...@gmail.com>:
That's how we learn how to read and fall back to when words and meanings are jumbled up. It is a technique to disrupt the others flow of automated response. It is oftentimes the only chance to get others to listen to something new to them. Otherwise you have to keep using the slow, indirect feeding of attractive or fearful imagery, but you cannot be sure that they really get there where you want them to get.

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Re: Mind's Eye Re: Voice in the head



On Tuesday, December 30, 2014 7:54:51 AM UTC-5, archytas wrote:
"I probably enjoy being confused by you Gabby."


Thank God, I thought it was me. 

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Mind's Eye Re: Big Brother

Fantasy seems like a worthwhile valid pursuit, it has generated billions for hollywood while NASA goes broke.

The Romans had all of the statues in place so why not give them the names of saints.   I have no problem at all with x trianity. It's its adherents I find lacking.  I can say that since I am an adherent.

Toe Knee


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Re: Mind's Eye Re: Voice in the head

Good Lord, Allan is a Leper ... waiting for dyslexia correction ... ah ... epilepsy, that's all right then.  Distorted communication is interesting - my brother is colourblind so it can be skewed at the virtual end.  If we swallow the reality hypothesis, then the stimuli can be faked to lead to a false picture too - the brain does a lot of focusing and still sees the world upside down after inverting lenses are removed.  My brother speaks several languages and reckons he thinks in whichever he is immersed in.  My first language isn't English.  I have forgotten the mother tongue (those to share with died when I was young), think in English when I speak French and German (badly) and never see or think in numerals (I get shapes).

What gets into our minds to think with is clearly subject to massive control frauds like religion (now neo-liberalism and neo-classical economics).education and language via Bacon's classical Idols of family, tribe, marketplace and non-reflexive theory.  The word Christian more or less turns itself to Flavian in my head when I hear it.  Others get 'Crusader'.  Words might just be labels.  'Molly' does not spring the word Christian in my mind or 'Kid' child.

On Tuesday, 30 December 2014 14:35:25 UTC, Allan Heretic wrote:
My mother learned and only spoke high german in childhood.  Once she started school she quickly learn english. But changing between languages is not a problem.   My wife is the same way.  I seriously doubt you will ever  forget your mother tongue.
I have epilepsy in the language center of my brain it is my mother language.
You are lucky..
..

~~
لا القتل، والاغتصاب أو استعباد الآخرين
Do not murder,  rape or enslave others

-----Original Message-----
From: polly skid <r.freebird@gmail.com>
To: Minds Eye <minds-eye@googlegroups.com>
Sent: Tue, 30 Dec 2014 3:21 PM
Subject: Re: Mind's Eye Re: Voice in the head

So... when we learn a language.. or interlnalise it.. we do it with how the words are spoken.. How is it for someone who has never heard a sound form birth?.. their thoughts  i mean... Also its very strange though English is not the first language i learnt from childhood, i 'think' in 'English' now... Although i rarely use it with my friends and family.... 

On Tue, Dec 30, 2014 at 6:24 PM, archytas <nwterry@gmail.com> wrote:
I probably enjoy being confused by you Gabby. Allan, don't worry too much about the voices inside your head - I left the radio on.

Andrew - I'm off walking the hounds to think about what you've said.  Back to gruffle-wuffle later.  In talking of voices in the head, one has to be careful lest one get a schizo-diagnosis from someone who has read the DMS and a certificate from the madness authority to lock you up.  In the park, people find my dog-talking perfectly reasonable and many join in.  7 Acres would make a great sculpture park - imagine the dogs as art critics and people, finally, with something to lean on ... just a voice in my head Tony - nothing to do with me, just a left-over from one of Allan's Wendanta's (Peter Pan version).


On Tuesday, December 30, 2014 10:14:45 AM UTC, Gabby wrote:

And let me add: listen to something and/or someone new. I don't want to further confuse Neil with the aimlessness of my conversation style.

Am 30.12.2014 10:04 schrieb "Gabby" <gabbydott@gmail.com>:
That's how we learn how to read and fall back to when words and meanings are jumbled up. It is a technique to disrupt the others flow of automated response. It is oftentimes the only chance to get others to listen to something new to them. Otherwise you have to keep using the slow, indirect feeding of attractive or fearful imagery, but you cannot be sure that they really get there where you want them to get.

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