Do you believe in God, or do you even think about things spiritually?

I pray to something, sometimes, and I bargain with something too if the moment calls for it.

I try not to think bad thoughts, when I do I feel myself inwardly apologising as if I think I'm being listened to and judged.

So, yeah I guess...

Religion qua religion is not widely hated in Ireland. Hating on THE CHURCH has become common in Ireland, to be sure, but I've seen very little criticism of that church's teachings. This isn't a new phenomenon; the first landlord to be taken to court under Gladstone's Land Act was the local parish bishop in Tipperary

So no, never.

aren't there some areas where, without a belief in a greater power, there can be middleground between atheism and spirituality? perhaps not.

I mean aren't things like philosophy often close to a form of spiritualism? the questions raised therin can't necessarily be answered by science can they?

The kind of intolerance of faith that I am advocating in my book is not the intolerance that gave us the gulag. It is conversational intolerance. When people make outlandish claims, without evidence, we stop listening to them--except on matters of faith. I am arguing that we can no longer afford to give faith a pass in this way. Bad beliefs should be criticized wherever they appear in our discourse--in physics, in medicine, and on matters of ethics and spirituality as well. The President of the United States has claimed, on more than one occasion, to be in dialogue with God. Now, if he said that he was talking to God through his hairdryer, this would precipitate a national emergency. I fail to see how the addition of a hairdryer makes the claim more ludicrous or more offensive.

I like to think of my spiritual/artistic heroes in this as Jesuit-educated turncoats James Joyce and Luis Buñuel as well as professed believers Anthony Burgess and David Lodge. And Andy Warhol for that matter.

And remember the famous Woody Allen quote:
"To you I'm an atheist, to God I'm the Loyal Opposition."

Are you kidding? The word 'reasonable', containing 'reason', should help here. The atheist's theory -- evolution -- is, um, *more* verifiable than the creationist line, is it not. ie it hasn't been thoroughly disproved.

Why shouldn't we?

I had a brief spiritual crisis towards the end of my third decade. It was born out of sudden mystifying fear of death: I didn't want to be nothing, for everything to continue om for a billion years full of stories I'd never see the end, or start, of.

When people make outlandish claims, without evidence, we stop listening to them

Sebastien, this isn't true.

I wish this was intentional.

I just can't imagine how anything so restrictive and regulated could ever fit into anyones spiritual worldview, but I suppose some people really do treat catholicism or christianity as a sort of warts and all thing.

Religion is how we know about God.
See? You just did.

It claims to have insights about His doings.
Lot's of peopleclaim a lot of things.

What is your God, what does He do?
The god of nothing does nothing.

In what sense does 'He' exist.
He doesn't.

Does he intervene in the material world?
No.

(* this is very important to my statement)

(and thats a jillion xposts btw)

I always used to hate it when people would tell me "you've got to believe in something." You could tell them "I don't mind if you have to, but why should I?" but that doesn't seem to work.

Did he make laws.
No.

How do we know what those laws are?
We don't. We made up our own.

Baxter, can you get it through you head that I'm not talking about any concept of gos that currently exists?

yes you are:

http://plato.stanford.edu/entries/spinoza/

(by massive coincidence, i was reading this when this thread wz posted)

Do you mean that there's a bit of your head/soul that should be more free, unlike say the bit that deals with your job?

Maybe it's holding religion back in the male demographic. Personally, if I was going to believe in an anthropomorphic deity, I think I'd prefer to believe in a Goddess-type figure.

Why does god have to be 'there'? Maybe It's 'here'!

Embrace Gaia starchild!

I think I'm more the Kali type.

http://www.subgenius.com/pam1/pamphlet_p1.html

"why hast thou forsaken me? is it because i stole Andre and Erykah's entire '98 wardrobe?"

RIP ODB

Andrew Farrell, read this longass thread:
So... Science is bullshit? No. What?

"God is a concept by which we measure our pain" /retard

Well, if you think of religions as memes, then a monotheistic religion has certain adaptive traits that give it an advantage in the Darwinistic struggle for survival. For one, it would promote greater social cohesion among society's that subscribe to it. It's relatively simpler and more streamlined than a polytheistic religion - less information is required to pass it on to converts or future generations.

not a god wtih a beard who loved the world so much he gave his only son etc etc, not one who created everything, just one who symbolises the other, that what is beyond our understanding. it would totally depress me if i thought that it would be possible for humanknd to know and understand everything, i revel in the certainty of ignorance.

i guess for me, god = irrationality, and i believe in that totally.

I'll see you all in hell.

I bomb atomically, Socrates' philosophies
and hypothesis can't define how I be droppin these
mockeries, lyrically perform armed robbery
Flee with the lottery, possibly they spotted me
Battle-scarred shogun, explosion when my pen hits
tremendous, ultra-violet shine blind forensics
I inspect you, through the future see millenium
Killa B's sold fifty gold sixty platinum
Shacklin the masses with drastic rap tactics
Graphic displays melt the steel like blacksmiths
Black Wu jackets queen B's ease the guns in
Rumble with patrolmen, tear gas laced the function
Heads by the score take flight incite a war
Chicks hit the floor, diehard fans demand more
Behold the bold soldier, control the globe slowly
Proceeds to blow swingin swords like Shinobi
Stomp grounds and pound footprints in solid rock
Wu got it locked, performin live on your hottest block

[Method Man]
As the world turns, I spread like germs
Bless the globe with the pestilence, the hard-headed never learn
It's my testament to those burned
Play my position in the game of life, standin firm
on foreign land, jump the gun out the fryin pan, into the fire
Transform into the Ghostrider, a six-pack
and +A Streetcar Named Desire+, who got my back?
In the line of fire holdin back, what?
My peoples if you with me where the f**k you at?
Niggaz is strapped, and they tryin to twist my beer cap
It's court adjourned, for the bad seed from bad sperm
Herb got my wig fried like a bad perm, what the blood
clot, we smoke pot, and blow spots
You wanna think twice, I think not
The Iron Lung ain't got ta tell you where it's coming from
Guns of Navarone, tearing up your battle zone
Rip through your slums

[Cappadonna]
I twist darts from the heart, tried and true
Loop my voice on the LP, martini on the slang rocks
Certified chatterbox, vocabulary 'Donna talkin
Tell your story walkin
Take cover kid, what? Run for your brother, kid
Run for your team, and your six camp rhyme groupies
So I can squeeze with the advantage, and get wasted
My deadly notes reigns supreme
Your fort is basic compared to mine
Domino effect, arts and crafts
Paragraphs contain cyanide
Take a free ride on my dart, I got the fashion
catalogues for all y'all to all praise to the Gods

[Ol Dirty Bastard]
The saga continues
Wu-Tang, Wu-Tang

[U-God]
Olympic torch flaming, we burn so sweet
The thrill of victory, the agony, defeat
We crush slow, flamin deluxe slow
For, judgment day cometh, conquer, it's war
Allow us to escape, hell glow spinning bomb
Pocket full of shells out the sky, Golden Arms
Tune spit the shitty Mortal Kombat sound
The fateful step make, the blood stain the ground
A jungle junkie, vigilante tantrum
A death kiss, catwalk, squeeze another anthem
Hold it for ransom, tranquilized with anesthetics
My orchestra, graceful, music ballerinas
My music Sicily, rich California smell
An axekiller adventure, paint a picture well
I sing a song from Sing-Sing, sippin on ginseng
Righteous wax chaperone, rotating ring king

[RZA]
Watch for the wooden soldiers, C-Cypher-Punks couldn't hold us
A thousand men rushing in, not one nigga was sober
Perpendicular to the square, we stand bold like Flare
Escape from your Dragon's Lair, in particular
My beats travel like a vortex, through your spine
to the top of your cerebrum cortex
Make you feel like you bust a nut from raw sex
Enter through your right ventricle clog up your bloodstream
now terminal, like Grand Central Station
Program fat baselines, on Novation
Getting drunk like a f**k, I'm duckin five-year probation

[GZA]
War of the masses, the outcome, disastrous
Many of the victim family save they ashes
A million names on walls engraved in plaques
Those who went back, received penalties for the axe
Another heart is torn as close ones mourn
Those who stray, niggaz get slayed on the song

[Masta Killa]
The track renders helpless and suffers from multiple stab wounds
and leaks sounds that's heard
ninety-three million miles away from came one
to represent the Nation, this is a gathering
of the masses that come to pay respects to the Wu-Tang Clan
As we engage in battle, the crowd now screams in rage
The high chief Jamel-I-Reef take the stage
Light is provided through sparks of energy
from the mind that travels in rhyme form
Givin sight to the blind
The dumb are mostly intrigued by the drum
Death only one can save self from
This relentless attack of the track spares none

[Ghostface Killah]
Yo! Yo! Yo, f**k that, look at all these crab niggaz laid back
Lampin like them gray and black Puma's on my man's rack
Codeine was forced in your drink
You had a Navy Green salamander fiend, bitches never heard you
scream
You two-faces, scum of the slum, I got your whole body numb
Blowin like Shalamar in eighty-one
Sound convincin, thousand dollar court by convention
Hands, like Sonny Liston, get fly permission
Hold the f**k up, I'll unfasten your wig, bad luck
I humiliate, separate the English from the Dutch
it's me, black nobled you Ali
Came in threes we like the Genovese, is that so?
Caesar needs the greens, it's Earth
Ninety-three million miles from the first
Rough turbulence, the waveburst, split the megahertz

[Raekwon]
Aiyyo that's amazing, gun in your mouth talk, verbal foul hawk
Connect thoughts to make my manchild walk
Swift notarizer, Wu-Tang, all up in the high-riser
New York Yank' visor world tranquilizer
Just a dosage, delegate my Clan with explosives
While, my pen blow lines ferocious
Mediterranean, see y'all, the number one draft pick
Tear down the beat God, then delegate the God to see God
The swift chancellor, flex, the white-gold tarantula
Track truck diesel, play the weed God, substantiala
Max mostly, undivided, then slide in, sickenin
Guaranteed, made em jump like Rod Strickland

That Lennon song
Actually, I much preferred the Blind Lennon Jefferson version from the Nation Lampoon Beatles issue.

Now, isn't it so much nicer when we talk about music than when we talk about religion?

Ha, yeah... never heard anything like that in my philosophy classes. But, I suppose that is because they don't tend to get involved with quantum mechanics or qaballah much. Seems to be a popular put-down, though. I think it was Ken L. who said it reminded him of his 400 level philosophy class during which the prof unfortunately got involved in a conversation with someone Ken perceived to be an idiot. If it was not Ken, I apologize.

Judy: It makes none, but you have gone and your prejudice won't keep you warm tonight.

I didn't realize I was. Madonna's into Kaballah, not Qaballah. You don't know where I'm coming from.

K!=Q

Questioner, just mind your Ks and Qs and I won't mistake you for the Material girl again. Britney, maybe.

(I do remember going to a laundromat when I was maybe 4 or 5, and picking up a bible stories for kids sort of book. I think I was aware that this was a big deal for some people, and was curious, but finding the stories less entertaining than Aesop's fables, didn't really pursue the matter further.)

I've considered the idea of a higher power, especially when I was a teenager, but it just never rang true to me. I don't believe in any sort of magic or mystery or higher power, although I do believe that there is a lot of really cool stuff in the cosmos.

One of my friends is a Presbyterian minister, the son of a missionary, and he's very bright and quite liberal, I respect him a lot. He and my husband (who were college roommates) talk about philosophy and religion and history a lot (my husband has degrees in classics and ancient history, and there is invariably a section of the discussion focusing on greek and hebrew etymology) and I admire the intellectual rigor with which the subject is approached. But I don't understand how you can argue with logic about something which disavows logic. I really feel as though I'm missing a key part of the puzzle here, the relationship between faith and logic, but I've never had it explained to me satisfactorily. Then again, I'm not sure if I'm particularly interested.

xpost

xpost
Look, I made my completely serious posts upthread than I got bored by the rest of y'all sniping so I decided to get me some of that action. I'm only human after all.

Hmm. Let me check me settings. Nope. I'm not a troll and neither is Aaron.

Aaron, I guess there are quite a few trolls here then.

xxpost

I just don't see why expressing unpopular ideas in a calm manner results in hostility and name-calling.

Beanz, the Qaballah is all about understanding psychological relationships. The Kabballah and Cabballah are all about belief and truth, or dogma.

They're not considered trolls cos, for example, every post of theirs prior to you showing up were pretty much reasonable ruminations on the topic at hand.

Also, I'm not really sure what your response has exactly to do with what beanz said to you.

xxxxpost

The understanding of human psychology you have gleaned from Qaballah must be somewhat deficient then.

Ha, ha, actually I do understand it. Perhaps what I should have said was "it is unfortunate that you are the way you are," but that would seem offensive, no?

As for the teeny's question on relationship between faith and logic, I'd say neither one 'trumps' the other. Each provides a method for attaching a story line to objects and events. Each provides a sort of internal consistancy, so that people who become fond of them tend to believe they are paths to the truth. Each is fallible and can be misleading.

(multiple xpost)

Sounds silly, right, yet people of every race, class, gender, and religion have been trying to do this exact thing for thousands of years. Huzzah!

Aside from Questionizers' example by deed, where are you getting this, teeny? Christianity, Judaism, Islam, Buddhism, et al, all have their own internal logics - theologics I guess, really. That's what divinity school is about, telling the difference between good theology and bad theology i.e. if God says this here, then that puts this story over there into a certain light. Or for example, when GWB, a supposedly evangelical Christian, is asked who his favorite political philosopher is, he says "Jesus, because he changed my heart," a provocative and potentially explosive answer, absolutely chock-full of potential. He's asked why, and says "if people don't understand that, then I'm not sure they ever will." That is illogical, and bad theology, even if he weren't evangelical, but especially because he is. The protestant God's table is open to anyone, and evangelicals' jobs are to spread the good news, not form a secret club.

i don't think i've ever had anything like a spiritual experience. i live my life now believing in not much at all. i've had friends that've been heavily into jewish mysticism, who've had experiences that felt 'holy', who've been content with certain philosophical proof of god. i'd feel very unholier-than-thou to just cynically sneer it all away (some of it i've at least found somewhat engaging, at least intellectually), but i can't connect with it in any profound way.

But faith can disagree with science, by attacking its root, Causality. Science is all about "if you could see everything, and knew the rules, you can tell what's going to happen.". Or put another way, if you can stand outside the whole thing, and rewind it and hit the play button, it'll all happen again, in the same order. This is as obviously true to a scientist as it is obviously false to a catholic: God always has the joker, is always able to fuck shit up. But almost all the time he doesn't, for reasons best known to himself (think Roger Rabbit).

Except! Quantum mechanics changes this basic assumption. Individual atoms can't be predicted, only statistically, en masse. This obviously isn't much of a loophole: the chances of a glass of water on my desk spontaneously moving an inch to the left is such that it is unlikely to happen in the lifetime of the universe. But if all you're looking for is a chink to insert the crowbar of faith into, it can be enough.

Even before quantum mechanics, people were rejecting causality. I think I'm correct in saying that Hume argued the 'laws of nature' weren't in fact laws but a series of coincidences.

Or, a different example: "how is it this tendency came to be" (tendency to organize, for example). Science is in the business of making things smaller to understand how things work, but in the end we have "tendencies" and hypotheses that don't explain how they themselves came to be until such a point that we can get even smaller.

But science seems to suggest that further questioning these tendencies and hypotheses is asking 'why' not 'how.' But in truth it is just the same question again: how does that thing work? But, we reach the infinite gulf between 0 and 1 and get stuck. Besides the obvious advantages scientific exploration produces, we might just as well say "snow is frozen" rain because quantum mechanics doesn't produce a final answer as to how things came to be the way they are. And that does leave room for personal belief.

For this same reason the Department of Ancient Egypt and Sudan does not include any of Budge's books on its recommended reading list. Budge's works are still in print, but this is because they are out of copyright, and so the text can be cheaply reprinted. While they are well illustrated, full of information and extremely cheap, they are at best unreliable, and usually misleading." From the British Museum FAQ

Oh come on, Tracer, we're nearly at the level of original-series Star Trek!

I have already posted elsewhere that I would call myself a Taoist, because I do not have the discipline for Zen. I am the sad result of multiple satori experiences without the proper follow-through to make something of them.

The upshot is that I would describe myself as accepting a 'spritual' dimension to reality, but for my own purposes the concept of God is neither apt nor necessary. All of my investigations into the various beliefs in one or more gods or goddesses lead me to the same conclusions - that the concept of diety is a sort of precipitate that forms out of mystical experience, like an accidental byproduct.

The difficulty I have with the concept of God is that, once you accept it as reality, it tends to feed on itself and grow until it monopolizes and dominates one's conversation with the world - a conversation which I find is better left to define itself through direct meditation. I find that 'God' creates more distortions than clarity in one's thinking about life and meaning. I prefer to dispense with it altogether.

(multiple xpost again)

What they are not is fundamental laws.

But how did that law come to be a law? The question essentially goes back to the law that creates all these laws and, when we reach that level of finding out the underlying reality, we don't know. What we have is a highly detailed analysis of why working things work the way they do now that they are here to be analyzed.

To answer the thread's question: I don't believe in god. I go to synagogue on some holidays if I'm staying with my parents and they go. And when I'm there I just kinda look around at people and enjoy my day off work. On Yom Kippur I think, not pray. I don't feel spiritual - I like knowing why I believe things and it's much more satisfying than being self-congratulatorily gullible. That's not to say I don't feel a connection to everything else in the universe. I just know why I do: I'm entirely made of the same stuff everything else is, which is incredibly cool I think. And I hope I am a humane, generous, sympathetic kind of person and I know I don't need gods to teach me how, I need other people.

Quantum mechanics might leave room for personal belief but I don't see how you can insist that a spirituality resides in the gap. The personal beliefs are just hypotheses attempting to explain. And I'd reject the ones that have no basis in evidence. It's more likely to be an explainable phenomenon than one that relies on mysticism whether you spell your belief system with a K, Q or C. We might not ever work it out but that still doesn't leave room for wildly made up (or repeated, or garbled, or confused) stuff.

Incidentally, I believe Abraham existed. He must have been paranoid schizophrenic though: voices tell him to circumcise himself, kill his son, kill a ram instead, move hundreds of miles etc.

And I believe in what, exactly? Let's see how accurate you really are.

I don't believe in God. I find it plausible that some barely recognizable form of awareness between 2 or more points in space account for the laws of space (electrochemical bonds could be considered "awareness" in some abstract way) and find it interesting that applying the psychological model of the Tree of Life accurately reflects how a "quark" came to be. That doesn't mean I believe it is true, but it seems as satisfying to me as a "tendency."

Yes that makes sense, and when I listen to discussions about religion, I can recognize that they are following paths of logic, but it does seem to me to be internal logic, a path of argument that if you follow it back to its root, rests on a postulate, a matter of faith. Why is theology so important when the bedrock of it is so unprovable? I know a lot of physics rests on postulates too, any sufficiently advanced technology is indistinguishable from magic, etc etc. And maybe my science is a matter of faith. But science seems to me to say that everything will eventually be explainable, whereas the supernatural tells you not to worry your pretty little head about it. I didn't want to make this science vs religion but there you go. :/

Science has gained much prestige in the past century, but only the most optimistic materialists of the 19th and early 20th century ever thought it would explain everything. After 1930 this belief attenuated considerably. Science has (rightly) returned to less sweeping claims for its version of truth.

Yeah, because that's true and not at all a prehudicial reduction.

For fuck's sake, people. Is it too much to ask that people get their heads out of their asses?

Einstein that, but what did he know really?

When has this ever worked?
(xpost)

WARNING: GREETING CARD APPROACHING

It's more than science says that everything is explainable, but you might not understand, while (some) religion(s) say that everyone can understand, but you can't have it explained to you.

What religions are these?

jesus dan how many hundreds of one line dismissals of a few hundred posts have you managed on ILX over the years?

I mean it just never ends, if you're not bothered to say anything then don't, cos I'm never, ever, going to assume you actually do have the killer argument but are holding it back behind the one line enigmatic post.

Seven.

If I had to sum up my ethical core, it's essentially the old cliche of "You reap what you sow - i.e. the universe takes care of itself, and bad things will come back to bite you in the ass, etc. etc. So I try to keep my nose clean. I'm not always successful.

Presuming you mean that you don't have a clue as to what I'm implying, here is a short and sweet version. Following Occam's Razor we come to the conclusion that consciousness is the byproduct of nervous tissue, right? It is nothing more than electro-chemical reactions in the brain, which is an organic container that provides a highly organized structure for these electro-chemical reactions.

What is the universe but a bunch of electro-chemical reactions? True, following Occam's Razor, we conclude that you can not talk to a rock and therefore it is not conscious. But is this necessarily what "consciousness" is? Consciousness is the state of being aware and the chemical composition of a rock implies a certain "awareness" in the bonding of sub-atomic particles, which are "aware" of each other. For example, atoms are "aware" when you split them. Hit an atom with a high energy particle of some sort and after you have done so what you have left is no longer an atom of the material you started out with. A slice of bologna is "aware" that you have sliced it; it does not remain unsliced (oh yes, and I am slicing it, baby!). Of course, we do not consider this awareness at all, but a reaction does occurs which implies the recognition of change upon the energy/matter itself. Certainly, this is not what we would normally refer to as awareness or especially consciousness, but then again, I don't believe that female electrical sockets need tampons, either. Yes, you could argue that I am autistic.

That possibility aside, I am not implying that some all-powerful God created everything, but that perhaps consciousness, like the probability of life, is not a fluke of nature at all, but an integral force or aspect of nature existing in varying degrees that is responsible for tendencies of organization. This could explain why quarks give rise to, but are not subject to the known forces of physics, because they are made up of 'ideas' (for lack of a better term) about spatial relationships, which in fact they are as hypotheticals and probabilities. In this theory, energy and mass are "quantumstuff" which is consciousness or simply the most basic ideas of awareness between points in space in relation to each other. In the detailed version at http://qbertblog.blogspot.com you can follow a hypothetical path of "awareness" a point follows to create a quark.

It is just a different way to look at it and I don't suggest it is true, but as well as I am able to hold this "vision" in my head, it "feels" solid in that it ties up loose ends of "what is the origin?" and "what is consciousness?": They are the same thing, the fundamental thing. It does reverse the rationalist's thinking, though, that consciousness is a byproduct and I realize that. But, having entertained various other theories, this doesn't bother me so much, though I can see how it would bother other people. Maybe my position just needs to be considered long enough until your brain "snaps." But, it is not very religious from my perspective.

Ha, okay! Mmmm, BLT's are lovely. I stay away from red meat these days, but bacon is pork, right? The other white meat?

and people whom you have yet to bond with will so long as you continue to trumpet your learning via jargon-ridden theses that digress from the original asked. although it is interesting (if irritating) when intelligent people do not exhibit basic conversational skillz.

anyways i confess to experience the mystic or synchronicity or whatever it is often enough not to dispute the exist of a higher order organizing whatnot

here is a short and sweet version
The Q seems to be a much faster typist than the rest of us. But you know what people, I've been thinking and I don't believe anymore that what he came here for is to argue with us- no, I think what he came here for is to be loved, he just doesn't know how to behave properly and abuses his powers by posting absurdly long messages. The solution,as hinted at by Andrew Farrell, is to do what Captain Kirk and company would have done with this kind of misbehavin' alien- find his energy-being alien parents and have them ground his toyin'-wid-da-Enterprise ass!

I think you've unintentionally flattered me here. ;) Fine. I will go now.

And I believe in science not because I think it's a belief system with an equal "validity" to religion but because it's a methodology.

Because consciousness is, of course ______________________

I typed G-d simply because I mean it in the sense of 'absoluteness' and not a personified deity... or 'everythingness.'

I'm baffled by people like Baxter who are fixated on the idea that any concept of a force beyond pure science has to involve "a god", a series of rules, strictures, fear or whatever. That was manmade - all religions are. Ronan wasnt asking about religion.

To make progress on the problem of consciousness, we have to confront it directly. In this paper, I first isolate the truly hard part of the problem, separating it from more tractable parts and giving an account of why it is so difficult to explain. I critique some recent work that uses reductive methods to address consciousness, and argue that such methods inevitably fail to come to grips with the hardest part of the problem. Once this failure is recognized, the door to further progress is opened. In the second half of the paper, I argue that if we move to a new kind of nonreductive explanation, a naturalistic account of consciousness can be given. I put forward my own candidate for such an account: a nonreductive theory based on principles of structural coherence and organizational invariance and a double-aspect view of information.

2 The easy problems and the hard problem
There is not just one problem of consciousness. "Consciousness" is an ambiguous term, referring to many different phenomena. Each of these phenomena needs to be explained, but some are easier to explain than others. At the start, it is useful to divide the associated problems of consciousness into "hard" and "easy" problems. The easy problems of consciousness are those that seem directly susceptible to the standard methods of cognitive science, whereby a phenomenon is explained in terms of computational or neural mechanisms. The hard problems are those that seem to resist those methods.

The easy problems of consciousness include those of explaining the following phenomena:

the ability to discriminate, categorize, and react to
environmental stimuli;
the integration of information by a cognitive system;
the reportability of mental states;
the ability of a system to access its own internal states;
the focus of attention;
the deliberate control of behavior;
the difference between wakefulness and sleep.
All of these phenomena are associated with the notion of consciousness. For example, one sometimes says that a mental state is conscious when it is verbally reportable, or when it is internally accessible. Sometimes a system is said to be conscious of some information when it has the ability to react on the basis of that information, or, more strongly, when it attends to that information, or when it can integrate that information and exploit it in the sophisticated control of behavior. We sometimes say that an action is conscious precisely when it is deliberate. Often, we say that an organism is conscious as another way of saying that it is awake.

There is no real issue about whether these phenomena can be explained scientifically. All of them are straightforwardly vulnerable to explanation in terms of computational or neural mechanisms. To explain access and reportability, for example, we need only specify the mechanism by which information about internal states is retrieved and made available for verbal report. To explain the integration of information, we need only exhibit mechanisms by which information is brought together and exploited by later processes. For an account of sleep and wakefulness, an appropriate neurophysiological account of the processes responsible for organisms' contrasting behavior in those states will suffice. In each case, an appropriate cognitive or neurophysiological model can clearly do the explanatory work.

If these phenomena were all there was to consciousness, then consciousness would not be much of a problem. Although we do not yet have anything close to a complete explanation of these phenomena, we have a clear idea of how we might go about explaining them. This is why I call these problems the easy problems. Of course, "easy" is a relative term. Getting the details right will probably take a century or two of difficult empirical work. Still, there is every reason to believe that the methods of cognitive science and neuroscience will succeed.

The really hard problem of consciousness is the problem of experience. When we think and perceive, there is a whir of information-processing, but there is also a subjective aspect. As Nagel (1974) has put it, there is something it is like to be a conscious organism. This subjective aspect is experience. When we see, for example, we experience visual sensations: the felt quality of redness, the experience of dark and light, the quality of depth in a visual field. Other experiences go along with perception in different modalities: the sound of a clarinet, the smell of mothballs. Then there are bodily sensations, from pains to orgasms; mental images that are conjured up internally; the felt quality of emotion, and the experience of a stream of conscious thought. What unites all of these states is that there is something it is like to be in them. All of them are states of experience.

It is undeniable that some organisms are subjects of experience. But the question of how it is that these systems are subjects of experience is perplexing. Why is it that when our cognitive systems engage in visual and auditory information-processing, we have visual or auditory experience: the quality of deep blue, the sensation of middle C? How can we explain why there is something it is like to entertain a mental image, or to experience an emotion? It is widely agreed that experience arises from a physical basis, but we have no good explanation of why and how it so arises. Why should physical processing give rise to a rich inner life at all? It seems objectively unreasonable that it should, and yet it does.

If any problem qualifies as the problem of consciousness, it is this one. In this central sense of "consciousness", an organism is conscious if there is something it is like to be that organism, and a mental state is conscious if there is something it is like to be in that state. Sometimes terms such as "phenomenal consciousness" and "qualia" are also used here, but I find it more natural to speak of "conscious experience" or simply "experience". Another useful way to avoid confusion (used by e.g. Newell 1990, Chalmers 1995) is to reserve the term "consciousness" for the phenomena of experience, using the less loaded term "awareness" for the more straightforward phenomena described earlier. If such a convention were widely adopted, communication would be much easier; as things stand, those who talk about "consciousness" are frequently talking past each other.

The ambiguity of the term "consciousness" is often exploited by both philosophers and scientists writing on the subject. It is common to see a paper on consciousness begin with an invocation of the mystery of consciousness, noting the strange intangibility and ineffability of subjectivity, and worrying that so far we have no theory of the phenomenon. Here, the topic is clearly the hard problem - the problem of experience. In the second half of the paper, the tone becomes more optimistic, and the author's own theory of consciousness is outlined. Upon examination, this theory turns out to be a theory of one of the more straightforward phenomena - of reportability, of introspective access, or whatever. At the close, the author declares that consciousness has turned out to be tractable after all, but the reader is left feeling like the victim of a bait-and-switch. The hard problem remains untouched.

3 Functional explanation
Why are the easy problems easy, and why is the hard problem hard? The easy problems are easy precisely because they concern the explanation of cognitive abilities and functions. To explain a cognitive function, we need only specify a mechanism that can perform the function. The methods of cognitive science are well-suited for this sort of explanation, and so are well-suited to the easy problems of consciousness. By contrast, the hard problem is hard precisely because it is not a problem about the performance of functions. The problem persists even when the performance of all the relevant functions is explained. (Here "function" is not used in the narrow teleological sense of something that a system is designed to do, but in the broader sense of any causal role in the production of behavior that a system might perform.)

To explain reportability, for instance, is just to explain how a system could perform the function of producing reports on internal states. To explain internal access, we need to explain how a system could be appropriately affected by its internal states and use information about those states in directing later processes. To explain integration and control, we need to explain how a system's central processes can bring information contents together and use them in the facilitation of various behaviors. These are all problems about the explanation of functions.

How do we explain the performance of a function? By specifying a mechanism that performs the function. Here, neurophysiological and cognitive modeling are perfect for the task. If we want a detailed low-level explanation, we can specify the neural mechanism that is responsible for the function. If we want a more abstract explanation, we can specify a mechanism in computational terms. Either way, a full and satisfying explanation will result. Once we have specified the neural or computational mechanism that performs the function of verbal report, for example, the bulk of our work in explaining reportability is over.

In a way, the point is trivial. It is a conceptual fact about these phenomena that their explanation only involves the explanation of various functions, as the phenomena are functionally definable. All it means for reportability to be instantiated in a system is that the system has the capacity for verbal reports of internal information. All it means for a system to be awake is for it to be appropriately receptive to information from the environment and for it to be able to use this information in directing behavior in an appropriate way. To see that this sort of thing is a conceptual fact, note that someone who says "you have explained the performance of the verbal report function, but you have not explained reportability" is making a trivial conceptual mistake about reportability. All it could possibly take to explain reportability is an explanation of how the relevant function is performed; the same goes for the other phenomena in question.

Throughout the higher-level sciences, reductive explanation works in just this way. To explain the gene, for instance, we needed to specify the mechanism that stores and transmits hereditary information from one generation to the next. It turns out that DNA performs this function; once we explain how the function is performed, we have explained the gene. To explain life, we ultimately need to explain how a system can reproduce, adapt to its environment, metabolize, and so on. All of these are questions about the performance of functions, and so are well-suited to reductive explanation. The same holds for most problems in cognitive science. To explain learning, we need to explain the way in which a system's behavioral capacities are modified in light of environmental information, and the way in which new information can be brought to bear in adapting a system's actions to its environment. If we show how a neural or computational mechanism does the job, we have explained learning. We can say the same for other cognitive phenomena, such as perception, memory, and language. Sometimes the relevant functions need to be characterized quite subtly, but it is clear that insofar as cognitive science explains these phenomena at all, it does so by explaining the performance of functions.

When it comes to conscious experience, this sort of explanation fails. What makes the hard problem hard and almost unique is that it goes beyond problems about the performance of functions. To see this, note that even when we have explained the performance of all the cognitive and behavioral functions in the vicinity of experience - perceptual discrimination, categorization, internal access, verbal report - there may still remain a further unanswered question: Why is the performance of these functions accompanied by experience? A simple explanation of the functions leaves this question open.

There is no analogous further question in the explanation of genes, or of life, or of learning. If someone says "I can see that you have explained how DNA stores and transmits hereditary information from one generation to the next, but you have not explained how it is a gene", then they are making a conceptual mistake. All it means to be a gene is to be an entity that performs the relevant storage and transmission function. But if someone says "I can see that you have explained how information is discriminated, integrated, and reported, but you have not explained how it is experienced", they are not making a conceptual mistake. This is a nontrivial further question.

This further question is the key question in the problem of consciousness. Why doesn't all this information-processing go on "in the dark", free of any inner feel? Why is it that when electromagnetic waveforms impinge on a retina and are discriminated and categorized by a visual system, this discrimination and categorization is experienced as a sensation of vivid red? We know that conscious experience does arise when these functions are performed, but the very fact that it arises is the central mystery. There is an explanatory gap (a term due to Levine 1983) between the functions and experience, and we need an explanatory bridge to cross it. A mere account of the functions stays on one side of the gap, so the materials for the bridge must be found elsewhere.

This is not to say that experience has no function. Perhaps it will turn out to play an important cognitive role. But for any role it might play, there will be more to the explanation of experience than a simple explanation of the function. Perhaps it will even turn out that in the course of explaining a function, we will be led to the key insight that allows an explanation of experience. If this happens, though, the discovery will be an extra explanatory reward. There is no cognitive function such that we can say in advance that explanation of that function will automatically explain experience.

To explain experience, we need a new approach. The usual explanatory methods of cognitive science and neuroscience do not suffice. These methods have been developed precisely to explain the performance of cognitive functions, and they do a good job of it. But as these methods stand, they are only equipped to explain the performance of functions. When it comes to the hard problem, the standard approach has nothing to say.

4 Some case-studies
In the last few years, a number of works have addressed the problems of consciousness within the framework of cognitive science and neuroscience. This might suggest that the analysis above is faulty, but in fact a close examination of the relevant work only lends the analysis further support. When we investigate just which aspects of consciousness these studies are aimed at, and which aspects they end up explaining, we find that the ultimate target of explanation is always one of the easy problems. I will illustrate this with two representative examples.

The first is the "neurobiological theory of consciousness" outlined by Crick and Koch (1990; see also Crick 1994). This theory centers on certain 35-75 hertz neural oscillations in the cerebral cortex; Crick and Koch hypothesize that these oscillations are the basis of consciousness. This is partly because the oscillations seem to be correlated with awareness in a number of different modalities - within the visual and olfactory systems, for example - and also because they suggest a mechanism by which the binding of information contents might be achieved. Binding is the process whereby separately represented pieces of information about a single entity are brought together to be used by later processing, as when information about the color and shape of a perceived object is integrated from separate visual pathways. Following others (e.g., Eckhorn et al 1988), Crick and Koch hypothesize that binding may be achieved by the synchronized oscillations of neuronal groups representing the relevant contents. When two pieces of information are to be bound together, the relevant neural groups will oscillate with the same frequency and phase.

The details of how this binding might be achieved are still poorly understood, but suppose that they can be worked out. What might the resulting theory explain? Clearly it might explain the binding of information contents, and perhaps it might yield a more general account of the integration of information in the brain. Crick and Koch also suggest that these oscillations activate the mechanisms of working memory, so that there may be an account of this and perhaps other forms of memory in the distance. The theory might eventually lead to a general account of how perceived information is bound and stored in memory, for use by later processing.

Such a theory would be valuable, but it would tell us nothing about why the relevant contents are experienced. Crick and Koch suggest that these oscillations are the neural correlates of experience. This claim is arguable - does not binding also take place in the processing of unconscious information? - but even if it is accepted, the explanatory question remains: Why do the oscillations give rise to experience? The only basis for an explanatory connection is the role they play in binding and storage, but the question of why binding and storage should themselves be accompanied by experience is never addressed. If we do not know why binding and storage should give rise to experience, telling a story about the oscillations cannot help us. Conversely, if we knew why binding and storage gave rise to experience, the neurophysiological details would be just the icing on the cake. Crick and Koch's theory gains its purchase by assuming a connection between binding and experience, and so can do nothing to explain that link.

I do not think that Crick and Koch are ultimately claiming to address the hard problem, although some have interpreted them otherwise. A published interview with Koch gives a clear statement of the limitations on the theory's ambitions.

Well, let's first forget about the really difficult aspects, like subjective feelings, for they may not have a scientific solution. The subjective state of play, of pain, of pleasure, of seeing blue, of smelling a rose - there seems to be a huge jump between the materialistic level, of explaining molecules and neurons, and the subjective level. Let's focus on things that are easier to study - like visual awareness. You're now talking to me, but you're not looking at me, you're looking at the cappuccino, and so you are aware of it. You can say, `It's a cup and there's some liquid in it.' If I give it to you, you'll move your arm and you'll take it - you'll respond in a meaningful manner. That's what I call awareness." ("What is Consciousness", Discover, November 1992, p. 96.)

The second example is an approach at the level of cognitive psychology. This is Baars' global workspace theory of consciousness, presented in his book A Cognitive Theory of Consciousness. According to this theory, the contents of consciousness are contained in a global workspace, a central processor used to mediate communication between a host of specialized nonconscious processors. When these specialized processors need to broadcast information to the rest of the system, they do so by sending this information to the workspace, which acts as a kind of communal blackboard for the rest of the system, accessible to all the other processors.

Baars uses this model to address many aspects of human cognition, and to explain a number of contrasts between conscious and unconscious cognitive functioning. Ultimately, however, it is a theory of cognitive accessibility, explaining how it is that certain information contents are widely accessible within a system, as well as a theory of informational integration and reportability. The theory shows promise as a theory of awareness, the functional correlate of conscious experience, but an explanation of experience itself is not on offer.

One might suppose that according to this theory, the contents of experience are precisely the contents of the workspace. But even if this is so, nothing internal to the theory explains why the information within the global workspace is experienced. The best the theory can do is to say that the information is experienced because it is globally accessible. But now the question arises in a different form: why should global accessibility give rise to conscious experience? As always, this bridging question is unanswered.

Almost all work taking a cognitive or neuroscientific approach to consciousness in recent years could be subjected to a similar critique. The "Neural Darwinism" model of Edelman (1989), for instance, addresses questions about perceptual awareness and the self-concept, but says nothing about why there should also be experience. The "multiple drafts" model of Dennett (1991) is largely directed at explaining the reportability of certain mental contents. The "intermediate level" theory of Jackendoff (1988) provides an account of some computational processes that underlie consciousness, but Jackendoff stresses that the question of how these "project" into conscious experience remains mysterious.

Researchers using these methods are often inexplicit about their attitudes to the problem of conscious experience, although sometimes they take a clear stand. Even among those who are clear about it, attitudes differ widely. In placing this sort of work with respect to the problem of experience, a number of different strategies are available. It would be useful if these strategic choices were more often made explicit.

The first strategy is simply to explain something else. Some researchers are explicit that the problem of experience is too difficult for now, and perhaps even outside the domain of science altogether. These researchers instead choose to address one of the more tractable problems such as reportability or the self-concept. Although I have called these problems the "easy" problems, they are among the most interesting unsolved problems in cognitive science, so this work is certainly worthwhile. The worst that can be said of this choice is that in the context of research on consciousness it is relatively unambitious, and the work can sometimes be misinterpreted.

The second choice is to take a harder line and deny the phenomenon. (Variations on this approach are taken by Allport 1988, Dennett 1991, and Wilkes 1988.) According to this line, once we have explained the functions such as accessibility, reportability, and the like, there is no further phenomenon called "experience" to explain. Some explicitly deny the phenomenon, holding for example that what is not externally verifiable cannot be real. Others achieve the same effect by allowing that experience exists, but only if we equate "experience" with something like the capacity to discriminate and report. These approaches lead to a simpler theory, but are ultimately unsatisfactory. Experience is the most central and manifest aspect of our mental lives, and indeed is perhaps the key explanandum in the science of the mind. Because of this status as an explanandum, experience cannot be discarded like the vital spirit when a new theory comes along. Rather, it is the central fact that any theory of consciousness must explain. A theory that denies the phenomenon "solves" the problem by ducking the question.

In a third option, some researchers claim to be explaining experience in the full sense. These researchers (unlike those above) wish to take experience very seriously; they lay out their functional model or theory, and claim that it explains the full subjective quality of experience (e.g. Flohr 1992, Humphrey 1992). The relevant step in the explanation is usually passed over quickly, however, and usually ends up looking something like magic. After some details about information processing are given, experience suddenly enters the picture, but it is left obscure how these processes should suddenly give rise to experience. Perhaps it is simply taken for granted that it does, but then we have an incomplete explanation and a version of the fifth strategy below.

A fourth, more promising approach appeals to these methods to explain the structure of experience. For example, it is arguable that an account of the discriminations made by the visual system can account for the structural relations between different color experiences, as well as for the geometric structure of the visual field (see e.g., Clark 1992 and Hardin 1992). In general, certain facts about structures found in processing will correspond to and arguably explain facts about the structure of experience. This strategy is plausible but limited. At best, it takes the existence of experience for granted and accounts for some facts about its structure, providing a sort of nonreductive explanation of the structural aspects of experience (I will say more on this later). This is useful for many purposes, but it tells us nothing about why there should be experience in the first place.

A fifth and reasonable strategy is to isolate the substrate of experience. After all, almost everyone allows that experience arises one way or another from brain processes, and it makes sense to identify the sort of process from which it arises. Crick and Koch put their work forward as isolating the neural correlate of consciousness, for example, and Edelman (1989) and Jackendoff (1988) make similar claims. Justification of these claims requires a careful theoretical analysis, especially as experience is not directly observable in experimental contexts, but when applied judiciously this strategy can shed indirect light on the problem of experience. Nevertheless, the strategy is clearly incomplete. For a satisfactory theory, we need to know more than which processes give rise to experience; we need an account of why and how. A full theory of consciousness must build an explanatory bridge.

5 The extra ingredient
We have seen that there are systematic reasons why the usual methods of cognitive science and neuroscience fail to account for conscious experience. These are simply the wrong sort of methods: nothing that they give to us can yield an explanation. To account for conscious experience, we need an extra ingredient in the explanation. This makes for a challenge to those who are serious about the hard problem of consciousness: What is your extra ingredient, and why should that account for conscious experience?

There is no shortage of extra ingredients to be had. Some propose an injection of chaos and nonlinear dynamics. Some think that the key lies in nonalgorithmic processing. Some appeal to future discoveries in neurophysiology. Some suppose that the key to the mystery will lie at the level of quantum mechanics. It is easy to see why all these suggestions are put forward. None of the old methods work, so the solution must lie with something new. Unfortunately, these suggestions all suffer from the same old problems.

Nonalgorithmic processing, for example, is put forward by Penrose (1989; 1994) because of the role it might play in the process of conscious mathematical insight. The arguments about mathematics are controversial, but even if they succeed and an account of nonalgorithmic processing in the human brain is given, it will still only be an account of the functions involved in mathematical reasoning and the like. For a nonalgorithmic process as much as an algorithmic process, the question is left unanswered: why should this process give rise to experience? In answering this question, there is no special role for nonalgorithmic processing.

The same goes for nonlinear and chaotic dynamics. These might provide a novel account of the dynamics of cognitive functioning, quite different from that given by standard methods in cognitive science. But from dynamics, one only gets more dynamics. The question about experience here is as mysterious as ever. The point is even clearer for new discoveries in neurophysiology. These new discoveries may help us make significant progress in understanding brain function, but for any neural process we isolate, the same question will always arise. It is difficult to imagine what a proponent of new neurophysiology expects to happen, over and above the explanation of further cognitive functions. It is not as if we will suddenly discover a phenomenal glow inside a neuron!

Perhaps the most popular "extra ingredient" of all is quantum mechanics (e.g. Hameroff 1994). The attractiveness of quantum theories of consciousness may stem from a Law of Minimization of Mystery: consciousness is mysterious and quantum mechanics is mysterious, so maybe the two mysteries have a common source. Nevertheless, quantum theories of consciousness suffer from the same difficulties as neural or computational theories. Quantum phenomena have some remarkable functional properties, such as nondeterminism and nonlocality. It is natural to speculate that these properties may play some role in the explanation of cognitive functions, such as random choice and the integration of information, and this hypothesis cannot be ruled out a priori. But when it comes to the explanation of experience, quantum processes are in the same boat as any other. The question of why these processes should give rise to experience is entirely unanswered.

(One special attraction of quantum theories is the fact that on some interpretations of quantum mechanics, consciousness plays an active role in "collapsing" the quantum wave function. Such interpretations are controversial, but in any case they offer no hope of explaining consciousness in terms of quantum processes. Rather, these theories assume the existence of consciousness, and use it in the explanation of quantum processes. At best, these theories tell us something about a physical role that consciousness may play. They tell us nothing about how it arises.)

At the end of the day, the same criticism applies to any purely physical account of consciousness. For any physical process we specify there will be an unanswered question: Why should this process give rise to experience? Given any such process, it is conceptually coherent that it could be instantiated in the absence of experience. It follows that no mere account of the physical process will tell us why experience arises. The emergence of experience goes beyond what can be derived from physical theory.

Purely physical explanation is well-suited to the explanation of physical structures, explaining macroscopic structures in terms of detailed microstructural constituents; and it provides a satisfying explanation of the performance of functions, accounting for these functions in terms of the physical mechanisms that perform them. This is because a physical account can entail the facts about structures and functions: once the internal details of the physical account are given, the structural and functional properties fall out as an automatic consequence. But the structure and dynamics of physical processes yield only more structure and dynamics, so structures and functions are all we can expect these processes to explain. The facts about experience cannot be an automatic consequence of any physical account, as it is conceptually coherent that any given process could exist without experience. Experience may arise from the physical, but it is not entailed by the physical.

The moral of all this is that you can't explain conscious experience on the cheap. It is a remarkable fact that reductive methods - methods that explain a high-level phenomenon wholly in terms of more basic physical processes - work well in so many domains. In a sense, one can explain most biological and cognitive phenomena on the cheap, in that these phenomena are seen as automatic consequences of more fundamental processes. It would be wonderful if reductive methods could explain experience, too (I hoped for a long time that they might). Unfortunately, there are systematic reasons why these methods must fail. Reductive methods are successful in most domains because what needs explaining in those domains are structures and functions, and these are the kind of thing that a physical account can entail. When it comes to a problem over and above the explanation of structures and functions, these methods are impotent.

This might seem reminiscent of the vitalist claim that no physical account could explain life, but the cases are disanalogous. What drove vitalist skepticism was doubt about whether physical mechanisms could perform the many remarkable functions associated with life, such as complex adaptive behavior and reproduction. The conceptual claim that explanation of functions is what is needed was implicitly accepted, but lacking detailed knowledge of biochemical mechanisms, vitalists doubted whether any physical process could do the job and put forward the hypothesis of the vital spirit as an alternative explanation. Once it turned out that physical processes could perform the relevant functions, vitalist doubts melted away.

With experience, on the other hand, physical explanation of the functions is not in question. The key is instead the conceptual point that the explanation of functions does not suffice for the explanation of experience. This basic conceptual point is not something that further neuroscientific investigation will affect. In a similar way, experience is disanalogous to the élan vital. The vital spirit was put forward as an explanatory posit, in order to explain the relevant functions, and could therefore be discarded when those functions were explained without it. Experience is not an explanatory posit but an explanandum in its own right, and so is not a candidate for this sort of elimination.

It is tempting to note that all sorts of puzzling phenomena have eventually turned out to be explainable in physical terms. But each of these were problems about the observable behavior of physical objects, coming down to problems in the explanation of structures and functions. Because of this, these phenomena have always been the kind of thing that a physical account might explain, even if at some points there have been good reasons to suspect that no such explanation would be forthcoming. The tempting induction from these cases fails in the case of consciousness, which is not a problem about physical structures and functions. The problem of consciousness is puzzling in an entirely different way. An analysis of the problem shows us that conscious experience is just not the kind of thing that a wholly reductive account could succeed in explaining.

6 Nonreductive explanation
At this point some are tempted to give up, holding that we will never have a theory of conscious experience. McGinn (1989), for example, argues that the problem is too hard for our limited minds; we are "cognitively closed" with respect to the phenomenon. Others have argued that conscious experience lies outside the domain of scientific theory altogether.

I think this pessimism is premature. This is not the place to give up; it is the place where things get interesting. When simple methods of explanation are ruled out, we need to investigate the alternatives. Given that reductive explanation fails, nonreductive explanation is the natural choice.

Although a remarkable number of phenomena have turned out to be explicable wholly in terms of entities simpler than themselves, this is not universal. In physics, it occasionally happens that an entity has to be taken as fundamental. Fundamental entities are not explained in terms of anything simpler. Instead, one takes them as basic, and gives a theory of how they relate to everything else in the world. For example, in the nineteenth century it turned out that electromagnetic processes could not be explained in terms of the wholly mechanical processes that previous physical theories appealed to, so Maxwell and others introduced electromagnetic charge and electromagnetic forces as new fundamental components of a physical theory. To explain electromagnetism, the ontology of physics had to be expanded. New basic properties and basic laws were needed to give a satisfactory account of the phenomena.

Other features that physical theory takes as fundamental include mass and space-time. No attempt is made to explain these features in terms of anything simpler. But this does not rule out the possibility of a theory of mass or of space-time. There is an intricate theory of how these features interrelate, and of the basic laws they enter into. These basic principles are used to explain many familiar phenomena concerning mass, space, and time at a higher level.

I suggest that a theory of consciousness should take experience as fundamental. We know that a theory of consciousness requires the addition of something fundamental to our ontology, as everything in physical theory is compatible with the absence of consciousness. We might add some entirely new nonphysical feature, from which experience can be derived, but it is hard to see what such a feature would be like. More likely, we will take experience itself as a fundamental feature of the world, alongside mass, charge, and space-time. If we take experience as fundamental, then we can go about the business of constructing a theory of experience.

Where there is a fundamental property, there are fundamental laws. A nonreductive theory of experience will add new principles to the furniture of the basic laws of nature. These basic principles will ultimately carry the explanatory burden in a theory of consciousness. Just as we explain familiar high-level phenomena involving mass in terms of more basic principles involving mass and other entities, we might explain familiar phenomena involving experience in terms of more basic principles involving experience and other entities.

In particular, a nonreductive theory of experience will specify basic principles telling us how experience depends on physical features of the world. These psychophysical principles will not interfere with physical laws, as it seems that physical laws already form a closed system. Rather, they will be a supplement to a physical theory. A physical theory gives a theory of physical processes, and a psychophysical theory tells us how those processes give rise to experience. We know that experience depends on physical processes, but we also know that this dependence cannot be derived from physical laws alone. The new basic principles postulated by a nonreductive theory give us the extra ingredient that we need to build an explanatory bridge.

Of course, by taking experience as fundamental, there is a sense in which this approach does not tell us why there is experience in the first place. But this is the same for any fundamental theory. Nothing in physics tells us why there is matter in the first place, but we do not count this against theories of matter. Certain features of the world need to be taken as fundamental by any scientific theory. A theory of matter can still explain all sorts of facts about matter, by showing how they are consequences of the basic laws. The same goes for a theory of experience.

This position qualifies as a variety of dualism, as it postulates basic properties over and above the properties invoked by physics. But it is an innocent version of dualism, entirely compatible with the scientific view of the world. Nothing in this approach contradicts anything in physical theory; we simply need to add further bridging principles to explain how experience arises from physical processes. There is nothing particularly spiritual or mystical about this theory - its overall shape is like that of a physical theory, with a few fundamental entities connected by fundamental laws. It expands the ontology slightly, to be sure, but Maxwell did the same thing. Indeed, the overall structure of this position is entirely naturalistic, allowing that ultimately the universe comes down to a network of basic entities obeying simple laws, and allowing that there may ultimately be a theory of consciousness cast in terms of such laws. If the position is to have a name, a good choice might be naturalistic dualism.

If this view is right, then in some ways a theory of consciousness will have more in common with a theory in physics than a theory in biology. Biological theories involve no principles that are fundamental in this way, so biological theory has a certain complexity and messiness to it; but theories in physics, insofar as they deal with fundamental principles, aspire to simplicity and elegance. The fundamental laws of nature are part of the basic furniture of the world, and physical theories are telling us that this basic furniture is remarkably simple. If a theory of consciousness also involves fundamental principles, then we should expect the same. The principles of simplicity, elegance, and even beauty that drive physicists' search for a fundamental theory will also apply to a theory of consciousness.

(A technical note: Some philosophers argue that even though there is a conceptual gap between physical processes and experience, there need be no metaphysical gap, so that experience might in a certain sense still be physical (e.g. Levine 1983; Loar 1990; Byrne 1993; Papineau 1994; Sturgeon 1994). Usually this line of argument is supported by an appeal to the notion of a posteriori necessity (Kripke 1980). I think that this position rests on a misunderstanding of a posteriori necessity, however, or else requires an entirely new sort of necessity that we have no reason to believe in; see Chalmers 1995 (also Jackson 1994 and Lewis 1994) for details. In any case, this position still concedes an explanatory gap between physical processes and experience. For example, the principles connecting the physical and the experiential will not be derivable from the laws of physics, so such principles must be taken as explanatorily fundamental. So even on this sort of view, the explanatory structure of a theory of consciousness will be much as I have described.)

7 Toward a theory of consciousness
It is not too soon to begin work on a theory. We are already in a position to understand certain key facts about the relationship between physical processes and experience, and about the regularities that connect them. Once reductive explanation is set aside, we can lay those facts on the table so that they can play their proper role as the initial pieces in a nonreductive theory of consciousness, and as constraints on the basic laws that constitute an ultimate theory.

There is an obvious problem that plagues the development of a theory of consciousness, and that is the paucity of objective data. Conscious experience is not directly observable in an experimental context, so we cannot generate data about the relationship between physical processes and experience at will. Nevertheless, we all have access to a rich source of data in our own case. Many important regularities between experience and processing can be inferred from considerations about one's own experience. There are also good indirect sources of data from observable cases, as when one relies on the verbal report of a subject as an indication of experience. These methods have their limitations, but we have more than enough data to get a theory off the ground.

Philosophical analysis is also useful in getting value for money out of the data we have. This sort of analysis can yield a number of principles relating consciousness and cognition, thereby strongly constraining the shape of an ultimate theory. The method of thought-experimentation can also yield significant rewards, as we will see. Finally, the fact that we are searching for a fundamental theory means that we can appeal to such nonempirical constraints as simplicity, homogeneity, and the like in developing a theory. We must seek to systematize the information we have, to extend it as far as possible by careful analysis, and then make the inference to the simplest possible theory that explains the data while remaining a plausible candidate to be part of the fundamental furniture of the world.

Such theories will always retain an element of speculation that is not present in other scientific theories, because of the impossibility of conclusive intersubjective experimental tests. Still, we can certainly construct theories that are compatible with the data that we have, and evaluate them in comparison to each other. Even in the absence of intersubjective observation, there are numerous criteria available for the evaluation of such theories: simplicity, internal coherence, coherence with theories in other domains, the ability to reproduce the properties of experience that are familiar from our own case, and even an overall fit with the dictates of common sense. Perhaps there will be significant indeterminacies remaining even when all these constraints are applied, but we can at least develop plausible candidates. Only when candidate theories have been developed will we be able to evaluate them.

A nonreductive theory of consciousness will consist in a number of psychophysical principles, principles connecting the properties of physical processes to the properties of experience. We can think of these principles as encapsulating the way in which experience arises from the physical. Ultimately, these principles should tell us what sort of physical systems will have associated experiences, and for the systems that do, they should tell us what sort of physical properties are relevant to the emergence of experience, and just what sort of experience we should expect any given physical system to yield. This is a tall order, but there is no reason why we should not get started.

In what follows, I present my own candidates for the psychophysical principles that might go into a theory of consciousness. The first two of these are nonbasic principles - systematic connections between processing and experience at a relatively high level. These principles can play a significant role in developing and constraining a theory of consciousness, but they are not cast at a sufficiently fundamental level to qualify as truly basic laws. The final principle is my candidate for a basic principle that might form the cornerstone of a fundamental theory of consciousness. This final principle is particularly speculative, but it is the kind of speculation that is required if we are ever to have a satisfying theory of consciousness. I can present these principles only briefly here; I argue for them at much greater length in Chalmers (1995).

1. The principle of structural coherence. This is a principle of coherence between the structure of consciousness and the structure of awareness. Recall that "awareness" was used earlier to refer to the various functional phenomena that are associated with consciousness. I am now using it to refer to a somewhat more specific process in the cognitive underpinnings of experience. In particular, the contents of awareness are to be understood as those information contents that are accessible to central systems, and brought to bear in a widespread way in the control of behavior. Briefly put, we can think of awareness as direct availability for global control. To a first approximation, the contents of awareness are the contents that are directly accessible and potentially reportable, at least in a language-using system.

Awareness is a purely functional notion, but it is nevertheless intimately linked to conscious experience. In familiar cases, wherever we find consciousness, we find awareness. Wherever there is conscious experience, there is some corresponding information in the cognitive system that is available in the control of behavior, and available for verbal report. Conversely, it seems that whenever information is available for report and for global control, there is a corresponding conscious experience. Thus, there is a direct correspondence between consciousness and awareness.

The correspondence can be taken further. It is a central fact about experience that it has a complex structure. The visual field has a complex geometry, for instance. There are also relations of similarity and difference between experiences, and relations in such things as relative intensity. Every subject's experience can be at least partly characterized and decomposed in terms of these structural properties: similarity and difference relations, perceived location, relative intensity, geometric structure, and so on. It is also a central fact that to each of these structural features, there is a corresponding feature in the information-processing structure of awareness.

Take color sensations as an example. For every distinction between color experiences, there is a corresponding distinction in processing. The different phenomenal colors that we experience form a complex three-dimensional space, varying in hue, saturation, and intensity. The properties of this space can be recovered from information-processing considerations: examination of the visual systems shows that waveforms of light are discriminated and analyzed along three different axes, and it is this three-dimensional information that is relevant to later processing. The three-dimensional structure of phenomenal color space therefore corresponds directly to the three dimensional structure of visual awareness. This is precisely what we would expect. After all, every color distinction corresponds to some reportable information, and therefore to a distinction that is represented in the structure of processing.

In a more straightforward way, the geometric structure of the visual field is directly reflected in a structure that can be recovered from visual processing. Every geometric relation corresponds to something that can be reported and is therefore cognitively represented. If we were given only the story about information-processing in an agent's visual and cognitive system, we could not directly observe that agent's visual experiences, but we could nevertheless infer those experiences' structural properties.

In general, any information that is consciously experienced will also be cognitively represented. The fine-grained structure of the visual field will correspond to some fine-grained structure in visual processing. The same goes for experiences in other modalities, and even for nonsensory experiences. Internal mental images have geometric properties that are represented in processing. Even emotions have structural properties, such as relative intensity, that correspond directly to a structural property of processing; where there is greater intensity, we find a greater effect on later processes. In general, precisely because the structural properties of experience are accessible and reportable, those properties will be directly represented in the structure of awareness.

It is this isomorphism between the structures of consciousness and awareness that constitutes the principle of structural coherence. This principle reflects the central fact that even though cognitive processes do not conceptually entail facts about conscious experience, consciousness and cognition do not float free of one another but cohere in an intimate way.

This principle has its limits. It allows us to recover structural properties of experience from information-processing properties, but not all properties of experience are structural properties. There are properties of experience, such as the intrinsic nature of a sensation of red, that cannot be fully captured in a structural description. The very intelligibility of inverted spectrum scenarios, where experiences of red and green are inverted but all structural properties remain the same, show that structural properties constrain experience without exhausting it. Nevertheless, the very fact that we feel compelled to leave structural properties unaltered when we imagine experiences inverted between functionally identical systems shows how central the principle of structural coherence is to our conception of our mental lives. It is not a logically necessary principle, as after all we can imagine all the information processing occurring without any experience at all, but it is nevertheless a strong and familiar constraint on the psychophysical connection.

The principle of structural coherence allows for a very useful kind of indirect explanation of experience in terms of physical processes. For example, we can use facts about neural processing of visual information to indirectly explain the structure of color space. The facts about neural processing can entail and explain the structure of awareness; if we take the coherence principle for granted, the structure of experience will also be explained. Empirical investigation might even lead us to better understand the structure of awareness within a bat, shedding indirect light on Nagel's vexing question of what it is like to be a bat. This principle provides a natural interpretation of much existing work on the explanation of consciousness (e.g. Clark 1992 and Hardin 1992 on colors, and Akins 1993 on bats), although it is often appealed to inexplicitly. It is so familiar that it is taken for granted by almost everybody, and is a central plank in the cognitive explanation of consciousness.

The coherence between consciousness and awareness also allows a natural interpretation of work in neuroscience directed at isolating the substrate (or the neural correlate) of consciousness. Various specific hypotheses have been put forward. For example, Crick and Koch (1990) suggest that 40-Hz oscillations may be the neural correlate of consciousness, whereas Libet (1993) suggests that temporally-extended neural activity is central. If we accept the principle of coherence, the most direct physical correlate of consciousness is awareness: the process whereby information is made directly available for global control. The different specific hypotheses can be interpreted as empirical suggestions about how awareness might be achieved. For example, Crick and Koch suggest that 40-Hz oscillations are the gateway by which information is integrated into working memory and thereby made available to later processes. Similarly, it is natural to suppose that Libet's temporally extended activity is relevant precisely because only that sort of activity achieves global availability. The same applies to other suggested correlates such as the "global workspace" of Baars (1988), the "high-quality representations" of Farah (1994), and the "selector inputs to action systems" of Shallice (1972). All these can be seen as hypotheses about the mechanisms of awareness: the mechanisms that perform the function of making information directly available for global control.

Given the coherence between consciousness and awareness, it follows that a mechanism of awareness will itself be a correlate of conscious experience. The question of just which mechanisms in the brain govern global availability is an empirical one; perhaps there are many such mechanisms. But if we accept the coherence principle, we have reason to believe that the processes that explain awareness will at the same time be part of the basis of consciousness.

2. The principle of organizational invariance. This principle states that any two systems with the same fine-grained functional organization will have qualitatively identical experiences. If the causal patterns of neural organization were duplicated in silicon, for example, with a silicon chip for every neuron and the same patterns of interaction, then the same experiences would arise. According to this principle, what matters for the emergence of experience is not the specific physical makeup of a system, but the abstract pattern of causal interaction between its components. This principle is controversial, of course. Some (e.g. Searle 1980) have thought that consciousness is tied to a specific biology, so that a silicon isomorph of a human need not be conscious. I believe that the principle can be given significant support by the analysis of thought-experiments, however.

Very briefly: suppose (for the purposes of a reductio ad absurdum) that the principle is false, and that there could be two functionally isomorphic systems with different experiences. Perhaps only one of the systems is conscious, or perhaps both are conscious but they have different experiences. For the purposes of illustration, let us say that one system is made of neurons and the other of silicon, and that one experiences red where the other experiences blue. The two systems have the same organization, so we can imagine gradually transforming one into the other, perhaps replacing neurons one at a time by silicon chips with the same local function. We thus gain a spectrum of intermediate cases, each with the same organization, but with slightly different physical makeup and slightly different experiences. Along this spectrum, there must be two systems A and B between which we replace less than one tenth of the system, but whose experiences differ. These two systems are physically identical, except that a small neural circuit in A has been replaced by a silicon circuit in B.

The key step in the thought-experiment is to take the relevant neural circuit in A, and install alongside it a causally isomorphic silicon circuit, with a switch between the two. What happens when we flip the switch? By hypothesis, the system's conscious experiences will change; from red to blue, say, for the purposes of illustration. This follows from the fact that the system after the change is essentially a version of B, whereas before the change it is just A.

But given the assumptions, there is no way for the system to notice the changes! Its causal organization stays constant, so that all of its functional states and behavioral dispositions stay fixed. As far as the system is concerned, nothing unusual has happened. There is no room for the thought, "Hmm! Something strange just happened!". In general, the structure of any such thought must be reflected in processing, but the structure of processing remains constant here. If there were to be such a thought it must float entirely free of the system and would be utterly impotent to affect later processing. (If it affected later processing, the systems would be functionally distinct, contrary to hypothesis). We might even flip the switch a number of times, so that experiences of red and blue dance back and forth before the system's "inner eye". According to hypothesis, the system can never notice these "dancing qualia".

This I take to be a reductio of the original assumption. It is a central fact about experience, very familiar from our own case, that whenever experiences change significantly and we are paying attention, we can notice the change; if this were not to be the case, we would be led to the skeptical possibility that our experiences are dancing before our eyes all the time. This hypothesis has the same status as the possibility that the world was created five minutes ago: perhaps it is logically coherent, but it is not plausible. Given the extremely plausible assumption that changes in experience correspond to changes in processing, we are led to the conclusion that the original hypothesis is impossible, and that any two functionally isomorphic systems must have the same sort of experiences. To put it in technical terms, the philosophical hypotheses of "absent qualia" and "inverted qualia", while logically possible, are empirically and nomologically impossible.

(Some may worry that a silicon isomorph of a neural system might be impossible for technical reasons. That question is open. The invariance principle says only that if an isomorph is possible, then it will have the same sort of conscious experience.)

There is more to be said here, but this gives the basic flavor. Once again, this thought experiment draws on familiar facts about the coherence between consciousness and cognitive processing to yield a strong conclusion about the relation between physical structure and experience. If the argument goes through, we know that the only physical properties directly relevant to the emergence of experience are organizational properties. This acts as a further strong constraint on a theory of consciousness.

3. The double-aspect theory of information. The two preceding principles have been nonbasic principles. They involve high-level notions such as "awareness" and "organization", and therefore lie at the wrong level to constitute the fundamental laws in a theory of consciousness. Nevertheless, they act as strong constraints. What is further needed are basic principles that fit these constraints and that might ultimately explain them.

The basic principle that I suggest centrally involves the notion of information. I understand information in more or less the sense of Shannon (1948). Where there is information, there are information states embedded in an information space. An information space has a basic structure of difference relations between its elements, characterizing the ways in which different elements in a space are similar or different, possibly in complex ways. An information space is an abstract object, but following Shannon we can see information as physically embodied when there is a space of distinct physical states, the differences between which can be transmitted down some causal pathway. The states that are transmitted can be seen as themselves constituting an information space. To borrow a phrase from Bateson (1972), physical information is a difference that makes a difference.

The double-aspect principle stems from the observation that there is a direct isomorphism between certain physically embodied information spaces and certain phenomenal (or experiential) information spaces. From the same sort of observations that went into the principle of structural coherence, we can note that the differences between phenomenal states have a structure that corresponds directly to the differences embedded in physical processes; in particular, to those differences that make a difference down certain causal pathways implicated in global availability and control. That is, we can find the same abstract information space embedded in physical processing and in conscious experience.

This leads to a natural hypothesis: that information (or at least some information) has two basic aspects, a physical aspect and a phenomenal aspect. This has the status of a basic principle that might underlie and explain the emergence of experience from the physical. Experience arises by virtue of its status of one aspect of information, when the other aspect is found embodied in physical processing.

This principle is lent support by a number of considerations, which I can only outline briefly here. First, consideration of the sort of physical changes that correspond to changes in conscious experience suggests that such changes are always relevant by virtue of their role in constituting informational changes - differences within an abstract space of states that are divided up precisely according to their causal differences along certain causal pathways. Second, if the principle of organizational invariance is to hold, then we need to find some fundamental organizational property for experience to be linked to, and information is an organizational property par excellence. Third, this principle offers some hope of explaining the principle of structural coherence in terms of the structure present within information spaces. Fourth, analysis of the cognitive explanation of our judgments and claims about conscious experience - judgments that are functionally explainable but nevertheless deeply tied to experience itself - suggests that explanation centrally involves the information states embedded in cognitive processing. It follows that a theory based on information allows a deep coherence between the explanation of experience and the explanation of our judgments and claims about it.

Wheeler (1990) has suggested that information is fundamental to the physics of the universe. According to this "it from bit" doctrine, the laws of physics can be cast in terms of information, postulating different states that give rise to

Come to think of it, I've been waiting for JW to arrive with the animated gay porn gifs for about 5 hours now.

yes, it is a riddle for you to Questionize.

And, yes, j blount, I missed a "you" in that sentence. Did YOU asshattedly...

I think I have seen at least one of those book covers on my Amazon recommends list. But, since I know there will be no answers, I guess I'll save the money.

http://www.nybooks.com/articles/article-preview?article_id=17682

The article is a review of The Quest for Consciousness by Christof Koch, which Searle recommends as a survey of the field.

http://cms.psychologytoday.com/articles/pto-20040715-000008.html

you missed two centuries in the third test on Sunday

Questionator, I like the cut of your jib, but I say nothing of the physics. Scratch that. You wrote "psychics" not "physics"... I thought you were asking about ESP as in relation to nonlocal quantum explanations or something. Obviously, stuff like that allows one to formulate all kinds of speculations. I probably have the same thoughts about psychics as most people. It would be cool, I don't rule it out, but my personal experience with it is insufficient. People tell me things and I'd like to believe them. I hope one day to be able to freak people out by reading their minds and winning lotteries, definitely.

I strongly suspect that a world "external to," or at least independent of, my senses exists in some sense.

I also suspect that this world shows signs of intelligent design, and I suspect that such intelligence acts via feedback from all parts to all parts and without centralized sovereignity, like Internet; and that it does not function hierarchically, in the style an Oriental despotism, an American corporation or Christian theology..

I somewhat suspect that Theism and Atheism both fail to account for such decentralized intelligencce, rich in circular-causal feedback.

I more-than-half suspect that all "good" writing, or all prose and poetry that one wants to read more than once, proceeds from a kind of "alteration in consciousness," i.e. a kind of controlled schizophrenia. [Don't become alarmed -- I think good acting comes from the same place.]

I sometimes suspect that what Blake called Poetic Imagination expresses this exact thought in the language of his age, and that visits by"angels" and "gods" states it an even more archaic argot.

If you're thinking of buying it, you should head to your local newsstand, because you could get the whole issue for only a bit more than they're charging for that one article online.

Beating of Queens Satanist Prompts Hate Crime Charges

"My allegiance is to Satan and I hate Christianity, Judaism and Islam, but I don't hurt anyone," Mr. Romano said. "I take out my anger in mosh pits and S-and-M clubs. I think it's ironic that the Christians got violent with the Satanist."

Everything I've said was on-topic or related to the criticisms of my original on-topic comments. Everything you and Ken have said have basically not, except perhaps your first few comments. Now, sure, I could respond to criticisms by creating a new thread entirely about Qaballah or posting in one of the old threads, but as it's on topic and being poked on THIS thread, it seems natural that the response would be on this thread also.

Haha! I have never said this.

My viewpoint is and always has been that religious people are the last safe group for leftists to stereotype, demonize and denigrate. Read every fucking thread on this forum for proof.

I don't have an issue with people being atheists, I have an issue with people who blithely assume that my wife is an idiot solely because she's a Christian (which, by their own admission, describes a large chunk of the atheists on this forum).

xpost

xxpost who in the hell let Q out of his cage.

http://www.wxplotter.com/ft_nq.php

No, darling. He'll only shit on the rug - and we like our rug, don't we?

Not as much as we like shit, mama!

Is this from a Jon Waters movie I haven't seen?

There, roving bands of ILXers frolic with the abandon so appropriate to wild folk in their native habitat. God would approve of Q's and our collective displacement to that Adamic Eden - as Eden was no doubt full of shit, too.

The existence of 'God' in the magickal work is basically not debated. Most magicians agree that there is an ebb and a flow from/towards something, a 'prime mover', the Instigator of the cosmic drama.

The problematic issue is the nature of this 'God'.

Let me state for the record: whatever ideas you have about 'God', learned or created in your mind, are just that - ideas.

Whether a state, a force, an energy, a compulsion, a mind, whatever, magicians take the same route as the Buddhists: 'God' is the Unknowable, the Unbeheld, and since we are mere fractions of the larger whole, holographic entities that are part of that 'God', and thus 'smaller' than it, we cannot comprehend its true nature. Only God can comprehend itself (which may be the reason for our existence, but that's a tangent deserving of its own post).

This is no slippery cop-out though. The path of magickal understanding IS the path to God. That being the case, the ultimate goal of magick is 'union with the Absolute', a return to our true nature, which is at its apex the nature of God. In a sense, then, the magickal journey is an undressing of God. The hermetically-sealed secrets of the universe slowly but surely unfold and reveal themselves to the mage, each new revelation acting as a stepping stone to the next, each one unravelling another tiny part of the Great Enigma.

True magick is unconcerned with dogma, morality and such. It can therefore be deemed amoral, and any immorality in magick is entirely the responsibilty of the individual. This is hugely important point, given that magick has been sullied by the Church through history as 'evil', and heathen. Magick is not good or evil, any more than people are good or evil. Both are merely choices to be made at any given situation.

One does not follow a set of rules when he/she enters the Invisible College. The books, teachers and the lessons themself are all guides to the Absolute Truth, not the Truth itself. If these lessons are abused, one cannot blame the pursuit of magick itself, only the morality (or lack thereof) in the individual who chooses to wield this knowledge unwisely.

Whether he/she knows it or not, the magician is part of ancient and unbroken line of huMans who act for the benefit of the collective species, not for personal gain or glory. The magician can be thought of as a factor built into the huMan animal in order to try and lead it towards the light. If the dissolution of the false ego is one of the ultimate goals in magick, what use is self-aggrandising and power-play?

A mage may decide that it is time for the Word to be disseminated again, to fan the flames of magickal perception in the species, as has happened time and again through our history. If so, he/she may then use any means deemed necessary (conforming to the Thelemic mantra of 'Do What Though Wilt', of course, and recognising the astral ancestry of each individual on the planet, again, of course!) to become the ideal vehicle for the message and the age in which he/she lives.

If this requires the use of media, self-promtion etc, s/he must move wisely, and treat it with the respect s/he shows any other part of his/her magickal life.

S/he must severely reprimand the ego if it begins to lose focus and behaves like a demi-god drunk on nectar. However, s/he must never fear success or, in moderation and with restraint, the pleasures of the flesh.

The mage sees everything as a reflection or a shard of the Unbeheld, and thus every single thing, natural or man-made, huMan, animal or floral, can be studied and enjoyed in the hope of catching some glimpse of the Instigator at work.

This is a marked difference between magick and Buddhism. While Buddhism itself is one of the noble arts, and has much to offer the mage, s/he should never be ashamed of his huManity. Rather, magick teaches us that, for whatever reason, the huMan has been crafted as the perfect microcosm, a holographic entity designed with the sensor arrays (and the ability to collate and understand the information received by said sensors) needed to absorb and understand its place in the cosmic Scheme and, more importantly, to transcend that state.

The huMan is the perfect vessel, the ultimate vehicle through which the Aboriginal can return to itself.

We are designed to search, and ultimately understand, our true nature. We are not born blind, deaf and dumb, without the capacity to understand ourselves; this crippling lack of faculties is learned over time. It is our right, God-given, to remember, to rise above our frozen zombie state, to become shining, enlightened individuals, worthy of a place in the pantheon.

Thankfully, Magick does not have us begging on our knees for access to the Gates of Heaven. Neither does it have us renounce our huManity.

Instead, it provides us with the radical, revolutionary tools for storming Heaven itself, and demanding an audience with God. As is our right.

It is also recommended by F3rn4nd0 P3r31r4 at UPenn: http://radio.weblogs.com/0100167/

xpost

1) Regardless of the issue ---- make sure you bring up your views on abortion, capital punishment, Christianity, and the political party you least like, regularly. Make sure your use the terms "wrong", "evil", "sinful" and "false" in describing views that differ from your particular beliefs. Try to work in the terms "blinded" or "deluded".

2) Depending on YOUR orientation refer to your opponents in arguments (or debates that hold the promise of becoming arguments) as facists or communists as often as possible. Suggest that their views parallel those held in Nazi Germany or of Stalinist USSR at least once.

3) Point out the shortcomings of the opposite gender. Using tasteless jokes that you ascribe to others is a favorite ploy. If your opponent is of the same sex ---- cast doubt on their sexual orientation.

4) When you've managed to get a good heated exchange going try to score points by using a word that will drive your opponent to the dictionary. Mock any attempts on their part to do the same. If possible humiliate them and react to attacks on your arguments with ironic references to misspellings, ill-conceived sentence construction, or inappropriate word usage.

5) If you make an error, never apologize. Blame it on a technical difficulty or on your opponent's mischaracterization of your argument.

6) When inspired, make sure you word your attacks and counterattacks so that you leave no opening for your adversary to capitulate to your view except in disgrace. Try to make certain that every avenue of response is a path of shame. Phrases like "only a idiot or a scumbag would argue that ..." are very helpful.

7) If you start to slip in an argument attack the person. It's most helpful to know something personal about them so that your ad hominems point out both academic/professional defects and their deficiencies as a human.

8) If someone levels an attack upon you, respond that in their reliance on ad hominem attacks the argument has deteriorated to a level that no longer warrants your participation. This can be a winning blow if played properly. Be subtle here, and clever; try to convey the sense of your opponent as dim-witted, ethically degenerate, desperate, and outmanuevered by your overwhelming intellectual superiority. The real joy here is that you can neatly do away with any respect due your opponent, slander his character, lacerate his pride, and, if done properly and with elan, simultaneously represent yourself as a man or woman whose ethics and moral sensitivity make it impossible for you to do what you just did. This one is a real gem -- and when executed gracefully -- really an art form.

8) When you face a loss, construct a "straw man" argument either by taking your opponets words out of context or by changing the issue. Never lose ---- change the issue. If your opponent has the facts on thier side, argue that facts don't constitute scholarship and understanding, and might even be a sign that one has not yet come to the level of understanding at all. Claim that computers store facts and that real scholarship is the sign of being able to understand and seeing the deeper connections.

9) Remember that you are always right. No matter what forces are marshalled against you, no matter how reasonable, humble, or generous, don't give an inch, don't be swayed. You are always right. It's the other side that caused this ruckus and keeps it going.

10) Always insist on the last word. The only honorable finish is unconditional capitulation by your adversaries or their defeated silence.

in\tel\lec\tu\al adj. 1.a. Of or relating to the intellect. b. Rational rather than emotional. 2. Appealing to or engaging the intellect. 3.a. Having or showing intellect, especially to a high degree. b. Given to exercise of the intellect; inclined toward abstract thinking about aesthetic or philosophical subjects. --in\tel\lec\tu\al n. An intellectual person.

1. An exaggerated feeling of being superior to others.
2. A psychological defense mechanism in which feelings of superiority counter or conceal feelings of inferiority.

... Unlike Ken, who just follows Q around like a pathetic dog.

-- ken c

-- ken c

My family was always pretty liberal artsy types, and still are for the most part. I don't think I ever really believed in God, and the moment i realized i don't was around when i realized i didn't believe in Santa Clause, which was pretty early. I had worked out in my mind that Santa was the spirit of Christmas, a metaphorical thing;a common figure to keep people in line and have them come together to celebrate.

In middle school when i was getting more and more into constant social interactions i began really resenting Christianity. The small town i was living in had multiple souther baptist churches and one of them was right next to the school. The prep/jocks crowd (ie the popular kids) were always doing after school activities that were church oriented and took place at the school. I started thinking about things like "Why does it say 'In God We Trust' on all the money?"

By high school i was really sick of watching people bring Bibles to class and treating me as a potential Youth club member. I starting reading books that were exciting and offered alternative ways of thinking (surrealism, 60s revolutionaries, Buddhism, absurdism, etc). I eventually got into books of The Church of the Subgenius cos i thought it was funny, they simultaneously satisfied my desire to see Christianity ridiculed and reality celebrated as absurd, silly and random.

Early in college I got heavily into Nihilism, Existentialism, Solipsism, and records by the Monkees. It all made sense initially but then kind of blurred into a general distrust of reality. I thought of myself as a humanist (or whatever i defined a humanist as) and decided, you know, it looks like there's some things that are far too infinite and complex for us to know, shouldn't we just focus on making life better here and now and not just whining about how we will never know what another is thinking or if the room on the other side of the door exists if you can't see it? I had a spiritual vision that changed my life and connected all this to the process of art and creating and communication. I had drank a full bottle of Robotussin and decided Sunday Morning by the Velvet Underground was the most beautiful song ever. I still think so of course.

Eventually I realized this humanist approach was basically the Golden Rule of Jesus and i watched many relationships fall and many people die and I started to see the value of Christianity and organized religion for a lot of people, that even though it wasn't what i personally believed i could see it taken as a metaphor. And besides, the peace of mind it gave looked pretty nice. By this time I had settled on the belief that we can't really prove anything, so who's to say the universe isn't just a random series of events or that there is a God father in the clouds waving his finger at us.

By then i started trying to see everything as beautiful, i guess i became an Aesthete or whatever. I didn't really care about spirituality and was content on recieving sensory persepction as something amazing and spiritual in itself, something to be treasured. It blew my mind enough to realize that i was on top of a planet flying through outer space around the sun. Anyways right now i think astronomy is the shit and analyzing the thought that light travels at a finite rate makes the universe seem so new to me.

(sorry to ramble on so..)

fairly self-explanatory

- there's a song title if ever there was one