The Immaterial Mind

[Phage0070]

I believe that my consciousness is a series of chemical and electrical reactions which are far simpler than they appear in concert. I think that a machine such as a clock is wondrous to behold in its precision and intricacy, and that the machine of the human mind is even more wondrous because it can understand itself. We may like to believe that there is more to sentience than what we can perceive but we are like Pinocchio; we look down at the wood and strings that make us what we are and wish to be a "real" boy, whatever that means. We can see what we truly are and are dissatisfied.

When I look around at the wonders that humanity has created I feel awe where others are disappointed. Human endeavors are far from perfect; there are problems with simple solutions that don't get fixed, and problems with no simple answers that could have been avoided with a little care. When you think about it though, what we have today was attained by *meat*. In the end our machines and tools, computers and intricate calculations, were set in motion by nothing more than bags of delicately salted water, clinging together in the most tenuous of balancing acts. Our most advanced technology was created by men standing on the backs of their forefathers, each of which was merely a collective of cells working in sequence, with each of those cells so frail that in anything other than the most ideal of conditions would wither and die nearly instantly. With all of our sophistication it is the height of arrogance to look back at all of this and deny it the praise it deserves.

Bravo, little cells. With what you had to work with, the outcome is astonishing.