The influence of gaslight or electric light on the growth of paraheliotropic trees

Today. I learn about the Murdering Lonely Man who hadn’t had sex in eighteen years, cooked up a plot to kill “Woman” in the form of several actual women, plotted and planned it for nine months, and went into a LA Fitness yesterday and opened fire, killing three.

He documented his madness. His loneliness. His detachment and isolation. Mitdasein and Non-Mitdasein. Alone, choking on his own ego. Cannot become that. Not violent. No need for glory me. I respect the lives of others — yes, they’ll die. But not for me to say how or when. I let things be.

Still — scary. There are people who love me. And I am normal. And not violent. Not even towards myself. Still — in twenty years? What madness would an isolated whiteboxed room wrought on my imaginary life? The life lived within the skull that looks exactly identical to the life lived in the world. Can’t even tell that you’re living in your head instead of in the world, with others. The first step that you’ve falled down that rabbit hole is that the lives of others — their significance — falls away. In a twist on the Philosophical Zombie Problem, we identify the Zombie Hypothesis as being this:

If Others are plausibly Zombies, You Are Living in a Skullspace Simulacra instead of in the World. You are using your perceptions to Simulate the World in real-time, instead of pulling yourself into that Hard, Harsh, Moment that Will Kill You.

And therein lies the question: Can the Solipsist, who lives the Imaginary, actually experience Death? Or, distracted by the elaborate set he’s built, will he miss it, and then be gone.

And maybe this is the Ultimate Distinction:
Those who experience death, and those who can’t. Those who experience life, and those who experience their experience.

Some strange ad on MSNBC with white lettering — hipsters with polaroids don’t be ordinary or bland in other words don’t be so mayo — miracle whip hipsters? the hip sandwich? we won’t turn it down? who are the ad wizards who came up this one?

(google thinking thinking)

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_70xGUxznYY

Youtube Comments say:
It’s a condiment, not a lifestyle.

I say:
Hipster Yuppies Go HOME Go HOME

Pre-Conception (10,000 Days)

Twinkle In My Father’s Eye

Potentiation at the Meeting of My Mom and Dad

Story of My Mom and Dad’s Meeting

1. College Road Trip (I’m a college road trip.)
2. Randi follows Mike down to Florida for the winter vacation. (Who knows / who remembers what they did down there, who they talked to, what furtive breast-touching went on?)

3. Plans to Spend the Summer Together / Summer Plans of Two Youngsters Had my father dropped out of law school yet? No, no, no. (This was my dropping out of law school. What year was it? 1976? 1977?)

4. A phone call to my my mother, breaking up with her.
5. Dad got his law school grades – shit.
6. Dad smokes cigarettes. Dad flees law school. Dad works that summer at a JAG office in Georgia. Dad decides not to go back. WHAT DOES DAD DO INSTEAD? WHEN DOES HE SEE RANDI AGAIN?
7. Dad moves to Philadelphia and dates Randi.
8. Dad and Randi move to Oakland and bum around.
9. Randi decides to come-on-back to Philadelphia, and pulls Old Michael with her.
9.5. Dad and Mom get a dog in California named Art Deco.
10. Dad asks Mom to marry him.
11. They get married in a civil ceremony.
12. Dad and Mom move in to a small apartment.
13. Dad and Mom decide to have a child // what strange wonders went into that decision?? What??
14. Mom and Dad meticulously plan and practice for my conception.
15. Awash in all that love, the moment of my conception is unknown, forever and always a mystery, what Odin whispered into dead Baldur’s ear.