Sunday, October 14, 2007

“Prufrock... world is troubled... crisis poems... linkages...inward, private movement... ‘Wasteland’... he sees this disappearing... Universe is a richer place than we know and we’ve lost this feeling... ‘Four Quartets’: theme of time, redemption of time... The end of Modernism... no definite ending... Modernism still with us... new sciences and technology... psychoanalysis ended modern period... no longer producers but consumers... much irony instead of earnestness... Gertrude Stein (playing with language against its meaning) and Hemingway ended Modernism... Hemingway was the antithesis to Modernism... nostalgia and retro fashion was the seal on the tomb of modernism... Media has shrunk space and time... telephone collapses space and time... history leaking back into the present... end of history... post-modern culture is becoming aware of self as a culture... ”

Now I’m considering Alonzo Church. What does he think of Tarski? Or maybe Russell’s Paradox? Gawd, that would sure be nice to know. Le’s check up on Kretschmar for a minute, shall we? Ohhhh, quotin Moustakas again, like a fucking mantra:

“As the relationship between the child and therapist is clarified...”

Jus like butter. ha ha.

“...strengthened, the child’s deeper feelings of hostility become gradually sharpened and more specific.”

Hmmm... Very interesting and yet, somehow I jus don’t care right now. Le’s check up on my status in London-town again. Yes, I’m dissociatin again... But at least I’m doin somethin useful. ha ha ha... Le’s’ee... Alonzo Church... What can we dig up on him while dis here lecture is going on. Oh, wait a second. I forgot bout how Alonzo Church is totally full o’shit. A logistic system with an assignment o’meaning to its expressions? Whateva... Godel! For chrissake! Didn’t he study any Godel whatsoever? Was Alonzo Church actually thinkin that he could turn natural language into a formal system o’some kind? What a laugh... I wonder what that ‘paradox of analysis’ is. Hmmm... Frege, eh? I know a couple of experts on Frege. Is his notion o’function really that problematic?

Hold on. Is that an alarm going off somewhere? Hmmm...

Hey, dis ain London callin, i’s Munich.

“Visual search is a key paradigm in attention research that has proved to be a test bed for competing theories of selective attention. The starting point for most current theories of visual search has been Treisman’s ‘feature integration theory’ of visual attention (e.g., Treisman and Gelade, 1980). A number of key issues that have been raised in attempts to test this theory are still pertinent questions of research today...”

He goes on to assume a lot regarding ‘function’ here. I wonder if he’s ever read any Frege.

“A key paradigm in attention research, that has proved to be a test bed for competing theories of selective attention, is visual search. In the standard paradigm, the observer is presented with a display that can contain a target stimulus amongst a variable number of distractor stimuli. The total number of stimuli is referred to as the display size. The target is either present or absent, and the observers’ task is to make a target-present vs. target-absent decision as rapidly and accurately as possible. (Alternatively, the search display may be presented for a limited exposure duration, and the dependent variable is the accuracy of target detection.)”

Saturday, October 6, 2007

“Modernist movement... blast manifesto... Eliot would not be enlisted... innovations, masking, neo-classical, remaking of other’s poems... technical wizardry... preeminent poet of suffereing... epic journey... haunting clarity... dislocation... mystic wholeness...Thomas Stearns Eliot... born 1885, in St. Louis... state of Missouri... (home of another great writer, William S. Burroughs)... family was full of clergy and teachers... He went to Harvard in 1906... taught school in London... became a clerk in a bank... 1915... Vivienne Haywood... married... breakdown... 1920s ‘Wasteland’... Paris... Pound... editing... 1925... editor, director at publishers ‘Faber and Faber’... British subject... 1948 Nobel Prize... 1950s best known poet... 1964 died of emphysema... married again... Valerie Eliot... happy marriage... plays... just listen to... voice from the depths of struggle... uses classical forms... long poems... assemblage of lyrics... or tightly united?”

He’s lookin round but none here is prepared to answer his question. Dey all jus fallin asleep to de lull of his voice.

“Ahmm... ‘Prufrock’... musical echoes... sounds... reverberations... poet of emotion... prose against classic... technique... plays with language... coherence of images... ‘Wasteland’ and ‘Four Quartets’...”

He writin somethin on de board now.

5 Divisions of Rhetoric: 1)Invention 2)Disposition 3)Elocution 4)Memory/Recall 5)Delivery

Hey, kids! Wake-up! We’re not talking about pizza here. We’re talking about a sequential outward movement... public... retrieving older forms...”

What a long way dis guy has come. I can hardly believe it myself, lookin back at de stuff he used to write.

Ferries for the Soul

“Fairy” is inaccurate: It’s several letters off.

I tell you, gays are ferries for the soul.

Between the banks of yin and yang we operate, and cross

Biology to keep the genders whole,

As each contains its opposite - A “fairy” is that bridge

Between the male and female which allows

The two to interact outside the principle of marriage,

Existing as a necessary flaw.




Well, dat was back when he was JoD, I guess. Long time ago.

OH, you’re right, Maro. Gotta get goin to dat Board Meetin.

Sunday, September 30, 2007

Der be peeps fillin in. I’m tryin to find a place to sit myself, and also remember dem all from der profiles. In da peanut gallery we got de Cock (who looks like he fallin asleep, maybe he’d be a good one to sit beside), and a bunch of other student reps. We also gotta couple o’staff members who bin sucked into takin notes. Megan B. has been a Drug and Alcohol Counsellor at G. House since graduation.

Ted R. works in private practice and has also worked as a consultant to MSB-Health Canada -- Medical Services Branch, Ministry of Health and Social Services, P.W.A. Society, Workers Compensation Board.

Louisa G. is a counsellor at the Police Department under the Canadian Association of Sexual Assault Centres.

Ahh, maybe not. Looks like she havin a good laugh wid an ex-chancellor, too rich for my blood. The Warden, de Sub-Warden. De Vices. All a lotta fuckin big wigs. Da’s for damn sure. An I feel like I ain one o’dem at all. Wha da hell’m I doin here, anyway? Big business junkies an de like. Looks like everyone’s jus bout here. Der is a large, large woman and I’m havin trouble figurin out what her role (heh-heh) is here. She don seem to fit (heh-heh) in here, either. Stumblin, limpin aroun.

Guess I better get myself a seat. I’m gonna try sittin beside the Cock for a change. He’s sorta surrounded by student reps here, but I see an empty seat.

“No room! No room!”

Da’s ridiculous. Fuckin racist or some shit. Der’s all kindsa room. Jus cuz dey gotta hole up in one corner o’de room doesn mean no one else can join dem. Fuck. I useta be a studen’too y’know. I feel’ike tellin’em to fuck right off, but instead I jus’tart lookin for somewhere else to sit. Fuck it. I’m sittin wid’e students. Der’s nowhere else to sit, an I can tell da’the meetin is bout to start. Dey’ll jus hafta deal. No, wait. I guess I can sit nex’to d’ex-chancellor, maybe an de beautiful dentist. Dat wouldn be so bad afterall.

“Ahh, der’s plenty o’room.” I tell those fuckin studens, an den I go to d’other end o’de room. Right in de midst of all de big-wigs. D’ex-chancellor is right beside me. He’s lookin me up an’down.

“Have some wine,” he says openin up his jacket as I sit down. I see a flask in der. He’s takin it out discreetly an offerin it to me. He’s holdin it right up to my face. It seems pretty empty to me, an from de smell it was somethin a little stronger dan wine dat was in it in de first place.

“I don see any wine, man,” I’m sayin to him.

“There isn’t any,” he says with a very kooky kinda smile. How old is dis guy anyway? He looks like he’s bout 102 years of age.

“Then it wasn’t very civil of you to offer it,” says some kinda businessman on de other side o’me.

“It wasn very civil of YOU to sit down without bein’vited,” d’ex-chancellor is sayin to de businessman wid a wink at me. Maybe dis guy ain so bad afterall.

“I didn’t know this was YOUR row, John,” de businessman is bout to lose his temper.

“Cut your hair,” d’ex-chancellor snaps back. Dis is pretty funny cuz de businessman looks a bit like an old hippy ‘cept for his suit. He got all kindsa beeds an tattoos an stuff, not to mention a great big head o’long hair. I figure I better break in before things get outta hand.

“Hey, guys. Le’s not get into de personal remarks, ok?”

D’hippy businessman is openin his eyes very wide an den they suddenly become all squinty-like an small. He’s bout to say somethin to me, but a loud bout o’raucous laughter interrupts him. Someone nearby is tellin jokes.

“Then the patient says, ‘I coulda been a psychopath.’ So, I say, ‘Don’t worry. If you’re wrong, you won’t lose your head.’ Haa haaa haaa.” De guy is laughin so hard, he’s just about chokin.

Now de name tags bein propped up on de table. I’s funny cuz dey got dis huge-like table from medieval times or somethin, but d’whole Board is all crunched at one’nd of it. Now we see how up to date dem websites really is. Connectin the dots: the relations between all dese people. Can’t quite be read. But it look like de lovely Ms. Inwest Investments Inc. ain gonna make it today, unless she’s jettin in late. I’s gettin called to order now. Der’s gonna be another presentation today.

“Clearly, there is less opportunity for people with less money to find alternative services that are usually much more expensive when they are provided by the private sector... Overall, it has not been a good exercise for the city-state to go through.”

Dis all seems a little familiar somehow. Le’s consult Maro.

“Support the objectives of the institution… if that can’t be done then the institution will not thrive… the office does all that… look at the technologies being offered to us.”

Some slides are projected up in front of us in order to prove a point: commercialization activities. "What technologies are commercializable… downtown incubator… Angel Network of Investors…” Showin der wares.

“The economics of this city… based on international…”

-36 invention disclosures

-26 new patent applications filled

-5 new patents issued

The bottom line: $15.7 million in revenues generated.

I dunno. I wonder if da’s all a little too technical for some o’de people on de Board. Oh, holdup. I think somethin’s bout to go down here. I can feel things heatin up.

“The woman running the station was a little disappointed at the level of contributions.”

It’s Ange Wardrop, a professor in the Department o’Psychology.

But psychologists have long been aware o’dismal aspects of human behaviour: people are more honest if dey know dey’re bein observed - when’obody’s watchin, dey feel dey can get away wid murder, or at least a free cup o’coffee. Dis problem gave Wardrop and two colleagues an idea for an experiment. For 10 weeks one spring, dey alternately taped two posters over de coffee station. Durin one week, it was a picture o’flowers; durin d’other, it was a pair of starin eyes. Den they sat back to watch what would happen. A remarkable pattern emerged. Durin da weeks when d’eyes poster stared’own at de coffee station, coffee an tea drinkers contributed 2.76 times as much money as in de weeks when flowers graced’e wall. Apparently, da mere feeling o’bein watched - even by eyes dat were patently not real - was enough to encourage people to behave honestly. Wardrop says she was’tunned: “We kind of thought there might be a subtle effect. We weren’t expecting such a large impact.”

Dis paper prompted’e Townsend police department to slap’osters of eyes everywhere as part of a campaign called “We’ve Got Our Eyes on Criminals.” De researchers’tudied de campaign to see if de posters had an effect on crime and vandalism... and so on an so forth. But dat was years ago. I wonder why all dat is comin up today.

Are you aware of any personal characteristics or difficulties that may make pursuing counsellor training difficult for you at this time? Please elaborate.

Counselling Psychology Master’s student Ange Wardrop, age 26, won’t say how many partners she’s slept with. It’s not that she’s embarrassed, or coy, or even particularly modest. She’s happy to share that the average number among her age group is about 10 partners each. Also, she confided that she lost her virginity at 18, roughly one year after the Townsend average for girls. Wardrop recounted that even in her liberal, educated peer group, there are still seemingly random standards. Eyebrows raise, for example, if a woman says she’s had more than a dozen partners - especially if that number includes one-night stands. Her group expects men, however to experience between 20 and 40 sexual partners.

Wardrop, who grew up near Townsend City Hall, recalled that she and her friends were deluged with state-sponsored information about STDs and safe sex. However, she didn’t find out that sex is emotionally affecting - until she tried it all out in her early 20s. She also noted that in mapping its sexual norms, her group had little help from official sources.

“I read Cosmo for all the sex stuff,” she admitted, pointing out that popular culture fills in de gaps. “It’s [pop culture] one of the only open forums for talking about sex and making it acceptable for talking about sex.”

Wardrop has found another way: pole dancing.

“I know of nowhere else I can go where I can publicly express my sexuality in a fun, supported way,” said the Goh Ballet-trained instructor. If pole dancing endures, it’ll be one more tool for young women to help navigate the complicated world of sexual decision-making.

Thursday, September 20, 2007

Without invitation, he pulls up a chair opposite us. "Hey ladies, what's shaking?"
"Of course you are," Jose says.
I shoot her a sideways look. "Hey man, I'm Prin. This is Jose."
"Pleasure," he says, his smile stretched too tightly. "So like, you two are regulars here, right? So, I guess that means you're, um, you know..."
"No," Jose says, makin him work for it, "we don't."
He leans over, lowering his voice to a near whisper.
"Oh wait, I got it!" Jose exclaims. "You want to know if we've got that special something, right?"
I kick her under the table, hard. But once Jose gets goin, she never breaks stride. She reaches across de table an takes de man by de hand. "Well baby, you better get us while you can."
By de shade o'grey de man turns, I can tell dat he done jus lost his courage.
"Um, really? That's... cool," he says, finding his feet.
"Sexy," Jose mouths slowly in a loud stage whisper.
"Hey, you know, I gotta get back. Friends. Bar. Nice meeting ya..."
Jose blows him a kiss. "Hasta luego, SUGAR!"
"Jesus," I say. "Sometimes you're a real jerk."
Now, are these my thoughts, or JoseF’s? JoseF’s, o’course, though his mind doesn’t hardly ever correspond to what he’s really lookin at. By comparison, mine would go more along de lines of: De girls will sit at der table. Dey will let da men across from dem gaze into der gorgeous eyes. Is dis for admiration? No, dey are too young. Dis for practise an’othing else, you must understand. Dey learning how to wrestle for power an dis is de safest place to do it.

Monday, September 10, 2007

JoseF walks on to de Field wearin slippers an a smokin jacket. He sits down an lights a smoke. He continues to light cigarette after cigarette, inhalin each one in between comments an de jottin down of ideas. He sits back an crosses his legs. JoseF watches from a distance an lets his mind do the complainin. At de same table, on a differen day, I can recall Prin sittin an restrainin herself from disclosin all her secrets. But once again, I digress. I must focus on today’s earth-shatterin, mind-numbin non-events, on whatever is happenin before me. Les’ee.

SPY #060997 007

REPORT #2

DAILY OBSERVATIONS:

There’s quite a few ravens around here.

One of my teachers is pregnant. I hope she doesn’t pick me to hate.

DRILL EXCERCISE

This pretend mission came from my grandfather, well, I guess not directly. See, he mentioned in a letter that he used to come to Chicago pretty often on business trips a long time ago. He stayed at a hotel called the Knickerbocker. He looked on my mom's street map of Chicago when she got back but I guess he couldn't find where it was supposed to be. So, that's what I'm going to do. It's not a real mission because there's really no point in it but it's good practice. Anyway, I just wanted to request permission to pursue this course of action.

“So, this is his second report?”

“Yep.”

“And you believe there is some sort of literary merit to this sort of thing?”

“Yep.”

“Hmmm... Yes, yes. Of course, you’re right. I just had tea and chocs with my mad uncle. Did I tell you that he’s in here? Life here is pretty easy and removed from the world. My Nan fusses over him night and day. Does K Jan have anyone to fuss over him? Well, I guess that’s your department, isn’t it. My uncle’s gained 10lbs for sure. He scribbles out his bad dreams. He feels sure that bad men are going to get him. He watches too many British soaps. Maybe words aren’t really the thing for K Jan. Perhaps what he needs is a good camera.”

“I don’think so.”

“No? Hmmmm... So this young fellow stabbed one of his counsellors, you say?”

“Well, I didn say that, actually...”

“Well, I’ll take him. I’m strong. I’m healthy, though I’m not sure how the whole thing will end up.”

Monday, August 20, 2007

And once again, he interrupts his own speech to start talkin bout Spark.

“He turned pro when he was really young. After making enough from the sport to afford his own house while he was still in his early teens, he watched the fat paycheques begin to dry up a few years later. I didn’t really put anything in it that wasn’t already in some issue of Sports Illustrated, or the New Yorker or Rolling Stone, though. He was profiled exhaustively in those mags, back in the day, that is. Well, anyway...”

“Hey, man, so where’s de report?”

I’s funny cuz he was so excited bout it, so eager to bring his’hit in, but dis time he missed his own deadline.

“Yeah, I got it.”

“Can I see?”

“Sure.”

He starts uploading it. Little freak was’posed to have it to me before dis here appointment. What de fuck.

To tell you the truth, I hate writing. I don't trust words at all, see. This probably sounds like some sort of foppery coming from someone who's just invested half an hour of his valuable time filling up pages with scrawl. Well, you know I'm thinking that my life story will be worth a lot some day, so I want to make sure I get it all down. I can see it now, "The story of a small town boy who makes it big in some faraway city".

Dis’eems familiar to me, somehow, like I done read it before.

Words just get you into trouble. If I had a choice I wouldn't use them at all. They are inadequate to the bone. Yeah, that'll be me, alright. As soon as I graduate I'm kickin the dust of this stupid, wasteland of a town off my feet and gettin outta here. Of course, right now no one knows this but me.

De boy is’till fantasizin, like as though’is life is completely different, somehow. He ain going on bout Chicago, though, no more. I dunno whether dis’ progress or not.

You know what though? As much as I hate words, I'm always talking to myself in my head. I mean it. You wouldn't guess it because I usually have very little to say in real life. But, you could pick any moment of the day and I can guarantee you I would have a running commentary going on inside of me about whatever is going on outside of me. People say it's okay to talk to yourself just as long as you don't answer yourself. But, if you ask a question that no one else can answer sooner or later you're the one who's going to have to come up with a response.

He gettin a bit philosophical der.

“So, K Jan, you still thinkin dat you gonna get outta Townsend one day, huh?”

“OK. AHEMMM... Spencer. He's got dis wizard keyboard talent.... AHEM. He been tryin to get a band together... AHEM... for the past three years. But no matter who he gets they never stick it out long enough to get anywhere. He even created these special earphones that sample background noise in yer immediate vicinity and then mix them with whatever it is that yer listening to. He wants to make them so that they can imitate any given pop song, just using surrounding ambient sounds. I was supposed to sing for them a while back but it didn't work out. That's just it. No one ever gets anything accomplished around here. They'd practise and sound really good for a little while and then go their seperate ways. Then they'd get back together and start all over. The deal was that I would buy the vocal equipment, y’know the P.A. an everything, and they'd let me join their band. I could be the next Henry Rollins or somethin. But I wasn't prepared to invest in a band that might be shot over in a matter of days.”

“You know what? I think you’d be a great songwriter. In fact, I’m gonna refer you to another counsellor who does writin workshops. His name is JoseF.”

“You tryin to get rid o’me, eh?”

“No, you keep up yer’egular appointments wid me. I’m jus givin you extra homework.”

He’smilin like he actually likes de sound o’dat. Maybe he jus needs’ome more attention.

“I want you to show all yer writin to JoseF. An he’s gonna give you his opinion. Maybe he can help you to do somethin wid’it some day.”

“Tha’s fuckin cool, man.”

“Glad you like my idea.”

Both fuckin JoseF an K Jan are fuckin handfuls. Be interestin to observe how dey gonna handle one another.

“I’ll want a full report o’course.”

Me’n K Jan jus laugh.

Friday, August 10, 2007

What’s the difference between that which is alive and that which isn’t?
“Crick and Koch (1990) have proposed that gamma-band synchronous oscillatory activities of neurons in visual cortex constitute the neural correlate of visual awareness.”
-I wouldn go so far as to use the term “awareness” but they definitely on to somethin, of course
recounted how Koch had come up the stairs and knocked, followed by the student, describing everything they had said to each other;
C and C:
“It should be noted at this point that when we speak of ‘visual awareness’, we are referring to the sensory awareness of the visual surround and that recognition of objects within that surround is not directly implied.”
-well, dat much is good
Dretske’s back again:
“How much info a message carries is not a function of how much info the recipient thinks it carries. It is a function, simply, of the actual possibilities that exist and the conditional probabilities of these various possibilities after the message has been received.”
-what does this have to do with anything? how can we differentiate the actual possibilities from the ones that we only think exist? I suppose this has everything to do with awareness.
C and C:
“Crick and Koch (1990, 1994) have argued that there are two forms of visual awareness, one brief and transitory and the other associated with selective visual attention. They believe that the latter form, coupled with short-term memory, mediates vivid awareness, but that in the absence of fleeting awareness, our visual environment would have the appearance of a tunnel, in which the current focus of attention appears in vivid detail and everything else is either invisible or hazy.”
Koch stayed behind and gently moved the bell-pull once again; the bell gave a single clank.
DRETSKE:
“The receiver of the signal may be more interested in one piece of info than he is in any other, he may succeed in extracting one piece of information without another.”
C and C:
“If synchronous oscillatory neuronal activities constitute the neural correlate of consciousness, and we know that these activities are not restricted to the cortex, then there is no reason to suppose that subcortical synchronous oscillations should not participate in awareness.”
Before we left the fire to go in we had to study te sky: the weather, the stars.
“They just pop your spine with a little hydro-gun... Now. Let me see. To get an illegal unregistered bioport installed at about midnight - we just drive up to your local country gas station, right?”
The atmosphere, April told us, would have an immense influence on how the next few days would unfold. For instance, I could go ask someone at a gas station for directions. After consulting and conferring with one another, April and her friends concluded that our stay would prove to be particularly spiritually enlightening (especially for you, she added, pointing to me with a simultaneous wink).
“You still operate a gas station, don’t you?”
“Only on the most pathetic level of reality.”
The attendant says, “Oh yeah. I know where that is.”
“Those are sterilized aren’t they?”
“Not to worry, the way they set things up, you could fire in a bioport in a slaughterhouse and never generate an infection.”
This is somehow comforting?
A list of directions. I copy them down diligently on a scrap piece of paper.
“Oops. I got that all wrong. I was thinking of somewhere else.”
Begins again with another list of directions.
“This is it, you see. This is the cage of your own making which keeps you trapped and pacing about in the smallest possible space forever.”
DRETSKE:
“But these differences are irrelevant to the info the signal contains. As the example indicates, a receiver’s background knowledge is relevant to the info he receives (both how much info and what info). A system’s intentional states drive their content, not from the appropriateness or inappropriateness of their effects on the system’s output but from their information-carrying role - from the sort of situation they were developed to represent.”
Davidson maintains that a similar problem, one that he calls ‘radical interpretation’, occurs between two speakers of the same language. Because we cannot be sure that the meaning of a speaker’s utterance will match the meaning that an interpreter will take, it is necessary to assume that something else must be at work when the process of interpretation takes place. There must be something in place that allows a speaker and an interpreter to assume understanding of one another’s utterances.
What is the primary level of explanation in the understanding of delusion?
E. DAPRATI et al.: “Verbal hallucinations seem to be liable to this explanation. According to Frith (1996), the normal mechanism for attributing thought to its internal origin would be a comparison between the executive commands leading to speech and the anticipated sensory consequences of these commands.”
CREUTZFELDT et al: “Normally, execution of the speech motor commands implies that the related sensory signals will be inhibited.”
E. DAPRATI et al.: “During verbal hallucinations in schizophrenic patients, by contrast, the sensory areas for language remain active, which suggests that the cancellation process does not operate. The nervous system in these patients behaves as if it were actually processing the speech of an external speaker. Hence their perception of their own thinking as originating from the outside world.”
Hmmm.
Davidson maintains that as long as an atomistic approach is taken to theories of truth and meaning, it will be impossible to determine what mechanism allows speaker and interpreter to assume comprehension of one another’s utterances. Neurobiological, cognitive, intentional?
The only way to understand how radical interpretation takes place is to assume that meaning, belief, and truth, FUNCTION in relation to one another. In other words, these concepts must FUNCTION together in a holistic manner.
DAVIDSON: “A speaker holds a sentence to be true because of what the sentence (in his language) means, and because of what he believes.”
Are delusions disorders of the self or disorders of reality monitoring?
Uh-oh. Here comes Kretschy, monitoring me again, o’course. Probly just received my report or somethin.
KRETSCHMAR: “A delusion is defined as a false belief based on incorrect inference about external reality that is firmly sustained despite what all most everyone else believes, and despite what constitutes incontrovertible evidence to the contrary.”
C’mon Carey, save me from dis tedious bullshit.
ME: It would seem that a large part of our seeing an object AS of this or that shape or nature is integral to the act of visual perception, and likewise for the other senses.
Speaking o’delusions, here she is, de girl o’d’hour. You know her. You love her. You can’t get enough of her: Carey.
There are witches. I feel like they are trying to groom me, woo me and my friends over to their side. They have me in their midst, their grips and I feel that there is some evil that is threatening to take me over. It is much worse than they are. I am being cultivated. There are scenes of Hell, showing people being punished for their sins. My grandmother points out a clay figure whose tongue is being pulled out at least a foot while simultaneously being cut up by by two devils with spiky hair standing on end like hedgehogs and eyes bulging like frogs. The man being tortured had been a liar in his previous life, she said - and this was what would happen to me if I told lies.
Seems like she might actually get into things today, instead of all dat stupid sex talk she usually does. Interesting. Maybe she felt at an early age that she really had to believe in her own lies in order to avoid severe punishment. Maybe. Hmm. Somethin bout’his reminding me of a dream I once had. I am somewhere close to the state line. The other I is actually still somewhere in Chicago, scratchin litter into a wall most-likely. MALEBOLGE: amphitheatre for lectures (much like the ones used in old-fashioned days to dissect bodies, etc.). In the first instance, discipline sometimes requires enclosure, the specification of a place heterogeneous to all others and closed in upon itself. It is the protected place of disciplinary monotony. One must eliminate the effects of imprecise distributions, the uncontrolled disappearance of individuals, their diffuse circulation, their unusable and dangerous coagulation. Its aim was to establish presences and absences, to know where and how to locate individuals, to set up useful communications, to interrupt others, to be able to at each moment, too, supervise the conduct of each individual, access it, judge it, calculate its qualities or merits. It is a procedure, therefore, aimed at knowing, mastering and using. Observe their presence and absence and constitute a general and permanent register. How one was to distribute patients, separate them from one another, divide up the hospital space and make a systematic classification of diseases: these were all twin operations in which the two elements - distribution and analysis, supervision and intelligibility - are inextricably bound up. Kretschmar is quoting Foucault again. “Discipline is an art of rank, a technique for the transformation of arrangements. It individualizes bodies by a location that does not give them a fixed position, but distributes them and circulates them in a network of relations.” Discipline and Punishment
“The table is both a technique of power and a procedure of knowledge. It is a question of organizing the multiple, of providing oneself with an instrument to cover it and to master it; it is a question of imposing order.”
Hey, where’d Carey go? I’s almost as though Kretschy scared her away or somethin. But’hat’s impossible, right? unknown territory. I know that a path can be made. So, to get to a point dat is out of dis world maybe I just have to confirm a path. I wonder how I do that. Movement and action takes a certain amount of time or continuity. How do we do this? How do we account for this? Back to Libet. “There is no experimental evidence against possibility that the control process may appear without prior unconscious processes (that specifically develop it).”
I’s like Carey jus’totally disappeared. How did that happen?!