I know many people have seen, via PBS or elsewhere, Tibetan Buddhists evaporating the water from cold, wet sheets draped across their bare backs.
No, I'm not challenging what PBS or others have seen and filmed; the effect is legit.
That said, what would happen if I visited such a monastery and said something like this:
Who is the I who is evaporating those sheets and why are you still attached to it?
This is a slice of my philosophical, lay scientific, musical, religious skepticism, and poetic musings. (All poems are my own.) The science and philosophy side meet in my study of cognitive philosophy; Dan Dennett was the first serious influence on me, but I've moved beyond him. The poems are somewhat related, as many are on philosophical or psychological themes. That includes existentialism and questions of selfhood, death, and more. Nature and other poems will also show up here on occasion.
Saturday, September 18, 2010
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