a vat, maybe

It has been a long day. At only 10:30PM, this is the longest I have been up in a week. If averaged 52 weeks, most dreaming began after 2AM. This morning started at 5:45AM. A record amount of sleep, 8 hours, and the body still begged for more. I proceeded to pedal and read Rousseau’s thoughts on Enlightenment. Five minutes of lecture later on skepticism and content. A tired brain began to obsess: am I just a brain in a vat? My head shook, peddles became heavy and the tiny screen on the phone enlarged with intense focus. Seven out of eight on a quiz taken from a phone – vat, maybe. There is still a nagging wonder if We understand Anything? Kant says we escape our self imposed immaturity by thinking freely. Freedom to experience science; beauty, albeit it is subject to one’s taste, yet somehow these taste can evolve from a human collective…My brain desires it were in a vat, perhaps wiggling a bit closer to the words of Rousseau that are swimming around somewhere where he made a fine spectacle when he addressed the philosophe collective regarding Enlightenment. He stated: “Are we thus fated to die tied down on the edge of the pits where truth has gone into hiding?”I tweeted early this evening, that this is what I think of Facebook. We are not Enlightened, or anymore enlightened in this age of technology, than we were during the Age of Enlightenment. We allow big brother Z to laud over our content and allow the sidebars to regurgitate/propagate our interest by feeding us ads of what we may wish to buy next. What is beauty today? What is enlightenment?
I saw a blurb sometime today about Derrida’s thoughts on death – too bad there was no time to read it for it may have helped to put new light on things gone so black. Sometimes sickness is just a state of mind.
Sometimes we lose one of our best friends to a sickness that no amount of philosophy can make alive – though he tried very hard to wrestle with them all to prove physical science could not win. Maybe he did and this vat has been alive for nine cold years. Reason shows me the sleight of hand. A small silver star lights a way that I shall pin one more dream on tonight with the hopes that the moon swings a nocturne with flair.Wonder what Rousseau would say about that Art – hopefully he at least recognized that even the greats were humbled after death. ~

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Posted by angela on 2013/02/07

http://yellowhousecafe.wordpress.com/2013/02/07/a-vat-maybe/