"Scientists questioning reductive materialism believe that consciousness will turn out to be governed by natural law... As Chalmers says, 'There is no a priori principle that says that all natural laws will be physical laws; to deny materialism is not to deny naturalism.'"
"Learning and memory are based on the strengthening of synapses that occurs when pre- and postsynaptic neurons are simultaneously active...
Electrically stimulating cortical cells to fire simultaneously strengthened their synaptic connections...
Hebbian plasticity begins with the release from presynaptic neurons of the neurotransmitter glutamate. The glutamate binds to two kinds of receptors on the postsynaptic neuron. One receptor notes that its own neuron, the postsynaptic onem is active; the other notes which preynaptic neurons are simultaneously active. The postsynaptic neuron therefore detects the simultaneous occurrence of presynaptic and postsynaptic activity. "
"Actual physical practice produced changes in each volunteer's motor cortex, as expected. But so did mere mental rehearsal, and to the same degree as that brought about by physical practice. Motor circuits become active during pure mental imagery. Like actrual, physical movements, imaged movements trigger synaptic change at the cortical level. Merely thinking about moving produced brain chanes comparable to those triggered by actually moving."
"Because the observer's only freedom is the choice of which question to pose (Shall I look up at the sky?), it is here that the mind of the observer has a chance to affect the dynamics of the brain."
"Volitional processes are associated with increases in energy use in the frontal lobes... Does activity in the frontal lobes cause volition, or does volition trigger activity in the frontal lobes?" (Sean says: Activity in the frontal lobes IS volition)
"The pattern of electrical activity in the cerebral cortex shifts just before you consciously initiate a movement... between 0.4 and 4 seconds before the initiation of a voluntary movement, there appears a slow, electriclaly negative brain wave terms the Bereitschafpotential, or 'readiness potential'... But not all readiness potentials were followed by movements. 'The brain was evidently beginning the volitional process in this voluntary act well before the activation of the muscle that produced the movement.'"
-The Mind & The Brain
Jeffrey M. Schwartz, M.D.,
and Sharon Begley
Saturday, August 23, 2008
An empty mind sits, like an empty canvas,
Waiting, listening
To paint upon itself
What is the difference
Between the poet and his prose,
Or the man and what he knows?
I sit up here, watching, with any objectivity I can muster,
This city which appears to me to be without luster,
Were this Miami, surely inhabitants would be outside, talking loudly, laughing, shouting, playing music...
Sustainable cannot be the only measure of health, as I once thought. Health, I suppose, has no clearly objective definition. We may speak of the physical health of an organism (even that is ambiguous: is it without sickness, without deficiency, is it strong, does it last long, is it neuronal health?), or the psychological health (which can be determined by behavior, or neurological activity, or personal satisfaction, or measures of well-being).
But even the ones I associate as most significant, personal satisfaction and well-being, are ambiguous. How can we claim to measure them? They have no neuronal parallels. And satisfaction is not really health it all. It restrains from progress.
What does it mean to "embrace the sacred messiness of life?"
And where do I stand?
Coming up with ideas like
Rhyme, rhythm, and flow: 3 (of how many) attributes of a particular nature that I seek to nurture and develop. But how can they be defined?
Waiting, listening
To paint upon itself
What is the difference
Between the poet and his prose,
Or the man and what he knows?
I sit up here, watching, with any objectivity I can muster,
This city which appears to me to be without luster,
Were this Miami, surely inhabitants would be outside, talking loudly, laughing, shouting, playing music...
Sustainable cannot be the only measure of health, as I once thought. Health, I suppose, has no clearly objective definition. We may speak of the physical health of an organism (even that is ambiguous: is it without sickness, without deficiency, is it strong, does it last long, is it neuronal health?), or the psychological health (which can be determined by behavior, or neurological activity, or personal satisfaction, or measures of well-being).
But even the ones I associate as most significant, personal satisfaction and well-being, are ambiguous. How can we claim to measure them? They have no neuronal parallels. And satisfaction is not really health it all. It restrains from progress.
What does it mean to "embrace the sacred messiness of life?"
And where do I stand?
Coming up with ideas like
Rhyme, rhythm, and flow: 3 (of how many) attributes of a particular nature that I seek to nurture and develop. But how can they be defined?
Uncertainty
I perceive what I believe to be a mediocre existence,
Steeped in insignificance
People pass I judge
they laugh I shrug
Are they an inconsiderate bunch
Or is this a mistaken hunch
As I stand, waiting for lunch?
Pondering the notion of being subjected to an existential punch
to my metaphysical gut
Mind lurching in a rut
Uncertainty restrains
hesitate and refrain from submersion
either / or has me unsure
what am I to do?
Steeped in insignificance
People pass I judge
they laugh I shrug
Are they an inconsiderate bunch
Or is this a mistaken hunch
As I stand, waiting for lunch?
Pondering the notion of being subjected to an existential punch
to my metaphysical gut
Mind lurching in a rut
Uncertainty restrains
hesitate and refrain from submersion
either / or has me unsure
what am I to do?
Tainted motivation
So I was frustrated that outsiders peering in did no understand the beauty of our steps, the complexity of our movements. Apparently it's a neuronal issue, mirror neurons and all that.
Good. This keeps me from letting my motivation slip into narcissistic tendencies. Too often I let my awareness of the observation of others affect my training, focus, and motivation.
Good. This keeps me from letting my motivation slip into narcissistic tendencies. Too often I let my awareness of the observation of others affect my training, focus, and motivation.
Back from France
I came back yesterday from France with a journal half full of ideas, and books highlighted to death. I suppose I'll type up the more significant ideas. I've never actually gone back to any idea I ever found significant. I wonder if that's a good thing or a bad thing.
Saturday, August 9, 2008
Old rhymes
Word is wit,
Like an atomic split,
'tween truth and bullshit,
The Zen master sits,
as light and shadow dance,
existence comes to be in a single glance,
We have a single chance
to be strong now, don't ask me how
I don't know
but to feed the soul to make it grow
Objectively no life is wasted,
But objectivity is meaningless if you've never tasted
please and pain
sunshine and rain
There is one moment for which we train
Between life and death
right before returning to Rest
as ashes become ashes
we've been blessed,
with a lifetime to love, a lifetime to give, a lifetime to live.
------------------------------------------------------
Schrodinger's cat is laughing from a spacecraft,
spends his time graphing and paddling his interstellar raft,
We've built empty space between subatomic structures,
The universe is an empty place, distinctions blur
-------------------------
We rise from the earth,
give birth to the world of ideas
glocalized interconnection
Anthro-empathic insurrection
Manifesting the resurrection of lost love,
Fits the human psyche like a glove,
Communication is the foundation of that by which we attain redemption,
Each shared thought, each shared glance,
is a blessing in the guise of chance.
--------------------------------
Change contained within permanence
fluctuation to a one-way cadence,
one-way algorithms leave you in doubt
a discernible rhythm following no particular route.
Make of your life what you will
Time once stood still
Then erupted, big bang
duality rang,
paradox was born
matter and energy flows
trickster fox he knows
myth is his prose
elucidating truth from fiction
like a permanent eviction
from the garden of youth
now we fight tooth and nail
cursing the paths we trail,
the trails tread by the feet of man,
rarely stopping to wonder
if that was ever the plan.
Like an atomic split,
'tween truth and bullshit,
The Zen master sits,
as light and shadow dance,
existence comes to be in a single glance,
We have a single chance
to be strong now, don't ask me how
I don't know
but to feed the soul to make it grow
Objectively no life is wasted,
But objectivity is meaningless if you've never tasted
please and pain
sunshine and rain
There is one moment for which we train
Between life and death
right before returning to Rest
as ashes become ashes
we've been blessed,
with a lifetime to love, a lifetime to give, a lifetime to live.
------------------------------------------------------
Schrodinger's cat is laughing from a spacecraft,
spends his time graphing and paddling his interstellar raft,
We've built empty space between subatomic structures,
The universe is an empty place, distinctions blur
-------------------------
We rise from the earth,
give birth to the world of ideas
glocalized interconnection
Anthro-empathic insurrection
Manifesting the resurrection of lost love,
Fits the human psyche like a glove,
Communication is the foundation of that by which we attain redemption,
Each shared thought, each shared glance,
is a blessing in the guise of chance.
--------------------------------
Change contained within permanence
fluctuation to a one-way cadence,
one-way algorithms leave you in doubt
a discernible rhythm following no particular route.
Make of your life what you will
Time once stood still
Then erupted, big bang
duality rang,
paradox was born
matter and energy flows
trickster fox he knows
myth is his prose
elucidating truth from fiction
like a permanent eviction
from the garden of youth
now we fight tooth and nail
cursing the paths we trail,
the trails tread by the feet of man,
rarely stopping to wonder
if that was ever the plan.
Friday, August 8, 2008
Hard to Believe It's Over
So many stories that so few will understand, that I do not bother to share the flame that sits beneath my heart and gives it warmth.
How do I put into words the smile of a child, the process of maturation of my students, their small gestures that mean the whole world... It feels redundant and silly to speak of simple acts that profoundly alter the shape of my soul, which I still do not believe in.
My god what a summer! I dig for sentences, but come up only with words, words like family, love, purpose, meaning, tears, smiles, laughter, intimacy, admiration, adoration, passion...
And for the first time, I hold onto my memories and souvenirs. I have my photos, I have my little booklet that every teacher wrote in, and my Dr. Seuss card from Gaby. I kept my flowers from Stephanie, I wear the shoes that X gave to me, and I have a heart filled to the brim with fondest memories of every teacher and student I came into contact with.
If I've wondered whether or not I am truly human, now I know it...
And every night as I wrote my lesson plans, I felt that the summer was an eternity, exhausting me, draining me and replenishing me every day. Each day seemed it would never end. And now I sit, wondering... how did the summer pass so quickly?
How do I put into words the smile of a child, the process of maturation of my students, their small gestures that mean the whole world... It feels redundant and silly to speak of simple acts that profoundly alter the shape of my soul, which I still do not believe in.
My god what a summer! I dig for sentences, but come up only with words, words like family, love, purpose, meaning, tears, smiles, laughter, intimacy, admiration, adoration, passion...
And for the first time, I hold onto my memories and souvenirs. I have my photos, I have my little booklet that every teacher wrote in, and my Dr. Seuss card from Gaby. I kept my flowers from Stephanie, I wear the shoes that X gave to me, and I have a heart filled to the brim with fondest memories of every teacher and student I came into contact with.
If I've wondered whether or not I am truly human, now I know it...
And every night as I wrote my lesson plans, I felt that the summer was an eternity, exhausting me, draining me and replenishing me every day. Each day seemed it would never end. And now I sit, wondering... how did the summer pass so quickly?
Thursday, August 7, 2008
Dualism vs. Material Reductionism
The debate between dualism and material reductionism is inherently flawed by one single misconception: that consciousness is a single process, irreducibly defined by a single state. This is not so: consciousness of the human is composed of many elements.
Just because consciousness is reducible does not imply that its elemental building blocks are illusory, material, or epiphenomenal.
The problem lies in using a single word to describe a fluctuating and experientially different concept: all persons' cognitive experiences are different and unique.
More measurable components are memory, language, reflection, will (angular gyrus anyone?), empathy, etc. The interplay of these components gives rise to a usually seamless experience. But when input from one (ie touch) contradicts another (ie memory), the illusion is broken and the sentient being is momentarily introduced to reality.
This is not to suggest that consciousness is of a different materia than the neural connections - but as a flame is not reducible to the components of the wick, neither is the mind reducible to the sodium ion channels, adenosine triphosphate, and action potentials that give rise to it.
Just because consciousness is reducible does not imply that its elemental building blocks are illusory, material, or epiphenomenal.
The problem lies in using a single word to describe a fluctuating and experientially different concept: all persons' cognitive experiences are different and unique.
More measurable components are memory, language, reflection, will (angular gyrus anyone?), empathy, etc. The interplay of these components gives rise to a usually seamless experience. But when input from one (ie touch) contradicts another (ie memory), the illusion is broken and the sentient being is momentarily introduced to reality.
This is not to suggest that consciousness is of a different materia than the neural connections - but as a flame is not reducible to the components of the wick, neither is the mind reducible to the sodium ion channels, adenosine triphosphate, and action potentials that give rise to it.
Tuesday, August 5, 2008
Amalgamation of Thoughts Relating to Breakthrough
We were asked to prepare "Presentations of Learning," short presentations that would convey some sort of personal growth, idea, or feeling that was experienced in the past 6 weeks as teachers. I collected several momentary ramblings, and made a pseudo-collage. I figure it came off as pretty lame, but that's okay, because it accurately communicates how I feel:
I began the summer with sincere intentions, but no idea on how to implement them. Teaching is the most difficult thing I have done. I hope, I beg, I pray, that my 8 week commitment made an inkling of a difference, put a scratch on the surface, spread forth a single ripple.
At Celebration, I see deft hands swiveling along drum heads, rhythms being coaxed out of leather hides. Students recite poetry as deep and vast as the ocean, as profound as the soul. And when I hear them, standing on stage, in front of parents and teachers and strangers, telling their audience with confidence and certainty that they will not fail, my throat chokes. In one evening, how many tears have I swallowed back?
And for each child, my heart swells, with an emotion that I cannot accurately define, but it appears to be a mixture, and if I listen closely enough I hear the singings, of pride, of joy, of love. And when I see the shy child smile, or feel the head that leans on my shoulder... when I know a connection has been made, my heart knows it's purpose, and my being is more clearly defined. A warmth overcomes me, and I am driven, motivated, as that which obfuscates truth is parted, and I see clearly something that I cherish and value with every fiber of my being. In this age of petty things, it is so difficult to find something of such unconditional value.
And now, 6 weeks have passed, the summer is over,
and I feel I barely got started.
I wish I had more to give,
More of myself to pour into each thing I do...
I suppose now that there is no going back, that doors I have only speculated about have been swung open...
I began the summer with sincere intentions, but no idea on how to implement them. Teaching is the most difficult thing I have done. I hope, I beg, I pray, that my 8 week commitment made an inkling of a difference, put a scratch on the surface, spread forth a single ripple.
At Celebration, I see deft hands swiveling along drum heads, rhythms being coaxed out of leather hides. Students recite poetry as deep and vast as the ocean, as profound as the soul. And when I hear them, standing on stage, in front of parents and teachers and strangers, telling their audience with confidence and certainty that they will not fail, my throat chokes. In one evening, how many tears have I swallowed back?
And for each child, my heart swells, with an emotion that I cannot accurately define, but it appears to be a mixture, and if I listen closely enough I hear the singings, of pride, of joy, of love. And when I see the shy child smile, or feel the head that leans on my shoulder... when I know a connection has been made, my heart knows it's purpose, and my being is more clearly defined. A warmth overcomes me, and I am driven, motivated, as that which obfuscates truth is parted, and I see clearly something that I cherish and value with every fiber of my being. In this age of petty things, it is so difficult to find something of such unconditional value.
And now, 6 weeks have passed, the summer is over,
and I feel I barely got started.
I wish I had more to give,
More of myself to pour into each thing I do...
I suppose now that there is no going back, that doors I have only speculated about have been swung open...
Sunday, August 3, 2008
http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/middle_east/7539986.stm
Israel has placed a border policeman under house arrest over his alleged involvement in the fatal shooting of a Palestinian boy in the West Bank.
Police said the officer would be held for five days during the inquiry into the incident last week.
Twelve-year-old Ahmed Musa was shot dead in Nilin, west of Ramallah, during a protest against the barrier Israel is building in the West Bank.
Palestinian officials said he had been shot with a live bullet at close range.
Israeli police began investigating the incident after an initial inquiry by the military and border police found that the boy had been killed by Israeli security forces who opened fire to disperse the crowd of protesters.
Eyewitnesses said Ahmed Musa was among a group watching Israeli bulldozers at work on the barrier, Israeli media reported.
The world has this tendency to react with outrage over the killing of innocent Palestinians by Israel, but if the tables were turned, I would hardly expect a single act of inquiry on the side of the Palestinians.
Saturday, August 2, 2008
Large Hadron Collider rap
Who doesn't love witty and clever rap about advanced physics!
http://www.vimeo.com/1431471?pg=embed&sec=1431471
http://www.vimeo.com/1431471?pg=embed&sec=1431471
Friday, August 1, 2008
Just a Moment of Thoughts
Perpetually confused... a moment taken to breathe without even that being the intention, just so sit and listen and wonder...
Super Teacher of the Day? Are you kidding me? By no means is my effort deserving of that award that I could not convince myself I did not actually secretly covet.
I began the summer with great intentions, but no idea on how to implement them. Teaching is the most difficult thing I have done. I hope, I beg, I pray that my 8 week commitment made an iota of a difference, a scratch on the surface, spread forth a single ripple...
But my how I feel that I have grown in the past few weeks... If I had known what I would be expected to do, I never would have done it. But I am so grateful that I was ignorant, that I walked blindly into this opportunity for such personal growth and social contribution.
Breakthrough songs swarm through my mind,
Adventures with fellow teachers my dreams do become,
The smiles of a hundred students become my world...
It's over, and I feel I barely got started,
I wish I had more to give,
More of myself to pour into each thing I do...
Super Teacher of the Day? Are you kidding me? By no means is my effort deserving of that award that I could not convince myself I did not actually secretly covet.
I began the summer with great intentions, but no idea on how to implement them. Teaching is the most difficult thing I have done. I hope, I beg, I pray that my 8 week commitment made an iota of a difference, a scratch on the surface, spread forth a single ripple...
But my how I feel that I have grown in the past few weeks... If I had known what I would be expected to do, I never would have done it. But I am so grateful that I was ignorant, that I walked blindly into this opportunity for such personal growth and social contribution.
Breakthrough songs swarm through my mind,
Adventures with fellow teachers my dreams do become,
The smiles of a hundred students become my world...
It's over, and I feel I barely got started,
I wish I had more to give,
More of myself to pour into each thing I do...
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