2 Insei: The Meterology of Smoke Filled Rooms

2 Insei: The Meterology of Smoke Filled Rooms

Today, after the Thanksgiving Holiday, I turn again to some minor points of linguistics and our view of the physical world and its laws.

In an agglutinating language we cling to the reality of what seems by language planners useless flexions. This of course can be a matter of cherished beliefs as to how we were first introduced to language. But it is also a matter of how we try by language to describe certain fundamental truths or trends in reality.

When the language is isolating we can have forms that vary in the tense and endings of words which describes really the order of our reading- say the temporal order. We know that even in such languages the rules of tense are not stable despite the formal setting down of the grammar. But beyond the abstraction of physical nouns, the substansives- that give a sense of reality to some metaphors as if they were concrete objects when in fact they may not have objective substance, we tend to label things as if the subject and object in some order which actually gives a sense of reality to an underlying idea that the object is the cause of action in the sentence.

This is like Aristotle assuming rays of like go out from us to see, when that which we see is the agent or cause, or flow of time or heat. For we then give some value to this philosophic idea over the reality of things emmiting light that takes time to reach us over some past steps of action. Yet, the philosophic view, if we see it as true or not, has its place as a symmetry with the more scientific reductionist view. It is a matter too of some sort of balanced and intelligible logic. Yet it amounts to the essential enigmas of todays physics as either the protagonist of action as consciousness or as dynamic physical law.

If we are in two rooms with separate temperature controls and one is warmer than the other- of course the thermostats can be controlled by a collection of movable forces with awareness- the demon in us decides if the context is too warm or cold. He may do this without direct reference to that outside the rooms, his monad of totality as no windows. Why do we assume the heat can flow from the warm room to the colder one if in the first place we are not clear on what is the perception of or reality of the arrow of entropy or time in the details and on the average?

The smoke in the room, as if from inscence or tobacco and not in a still place where it may organize itself into smoky cloudy layers, my seem to flow the opposite direction. In general different regions of things which collect together to not mix and merge if there is a barrier differnce of temperature- rather like the insight of he who first understood the weather as hot and cold fronts- or that sound itself may not break some whisper barriers if say between the banks of a river there is a colder breeze that bounces back echos leaving to our ears only silence.

The conviction of our language deep down, one man's self centered faith the other side of the coin of compassion and interaction with others, sets the scheme deep down and from the pivot or fulcrum of the existential present it is not clear which is which- this true in our percieved ideas of autism in some context of consensus of what is the nature of our mental states, and of the context itself of which by the reality or belief in it of the underlying physics, the context itself causes those who would better understand the truth of their own position to impose his own version of sanity on others.

In this sense too a metaphysical proposition like- we gain by giving to others the benefits of heaven or take up the world by taking from others so lose our souls- makes a lot of sense and at best tells us our understanding of the real laws of physics are not resolved creatively that our incomplete control of our evolution is still wildly unstable.



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Uncanny Valley Walk of Shame L. Edgar Otto 11-25-10

I saw one morning your walk of shame
What's in it for you to play the game
You don't remember scratching your itch
Just a vague pain, dry mouth salty pink lipstick

Left Sunday morning, net hose, stilts for shoes
Zombie after Halloween, neck and knees tender bruised
You were good, by the way, your head hung down to look away
I'm only teasing, give you a lesson, but I know you'll never listen

So who's the baby daddy worth your drink and drama
Your child so young excuse, if you can keep your baby mama
What dreams are left from you to her but
Withdraws and shakes left of your liver?

Brag to me the night swell, bad ass of your bitches
Courageous badge in stitches, swear you'll never tell
Abandoned heart, awake enough to bleed
Priming up for the dog show to be the best of breed

Of course you are a dish, I wish to kiss your tattoo
Play cuddle fish lucid dream happy endings with you
Chase away your belfry bats and stalking wolves full moon
But the daddy in me thinks you've spent your love too soon.


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This poem from the linguistic viewpoint addresses the interaction of man and machine and to what extent we are facinated with vampires and other romantic notions that shift between fear or comfort with the ideas that mimic our sense of identity.

http://www.newscientist.com/blogs/culturelab/2010/11/no-mere-gargoyles-schizophrenic-sculpture.html

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Uncanny_valley