the melancholy like death is beyond me when i see my aging parents and i'm so not necessary there here: hier: this and now and non-being **** Mccintire and the tongue of Belfast and Birmingham but these aren't the days of my 20s spent in madness and my res extensa is somewhere and somewhere where my res cogitans merge and the external world tries to impregnate me with voices in order to pressure the COGITO the pronoun within contained because the Latin Men wrote like the Hebrews in that they didn't straitjacket themselves to MPLD vowels in a word in Latin there were implied words like ego... sometimes came last like in the Polish tongue... time pressures then in the press i learn(t) that there is almost half a year of waiting for the driving license exam... and then i am being torn with what's happening in tongue and a people and where on Kauai you don't have nations because there is so much Polynesia and the secret how such people took the canoe across the Pacific while the Europeans employed the sails and oar and maybe we discovered America is a conversation to be had about the Polynesians not discovering America... but could have... 5h flight from San Francissco to Lihue... you could swim that... so why did the Polynesians not discover America? but this hour or so before bed time is unlike me saying a Mea Culpa and Pater Noster before going to sleep the day had so much Hellish Peace that it almost felt like Heaven but then i reread some Milton and to think i might be going to the Vulcan of this Paradise i might ask where it language being squeezed and with what "other" arm...
i am in the process the psychadelic process of trying not to dream so that i can remember what i wrote the previous night to give me motivation to life: the vivo impromptus meanings of life i can take with me and when i find myself find myself dragging me and i'm tired as a male of the Jesus Christ Adoration project that's stale in catholicism and is that because men who admire christ have no other role models in their lives and how is it living up to the supposed PERFECTION when all you do is forgive yourself your imperfections as a sort of crucifix and still walk and plunder from the land of the dead... and still the man in cages and robes when the naked man scares beyond the flesh of night and its mouths like pores and cysts in the fabric of time that is a place of creacking pine trees and perhaps even splendid old oaks and whispers in the wind or only via the res extensa can there be an answer to man's res cogitans: in that: god being an omni- litany of tributes couldn't possibly be a rec cogitans rex cogitans no.... our thinking is limited by comprehension we nonetheless discover but still not comprehend in the spiral of events that do not take place under any authority of the Word: not in the papers of the banks, the courts, restaurants... i wake up later like the young ****** in Vienna and become a parasite or something like the sort who: when an old woman falls on the street is the second to pick her up on the slopes on the slopes and the ropes of pirate ships i am sailing nowhere on this island England big enough imagined ships and expansions but at least i know that Polynesia is the Pearl of Taiwan because after Hawaii there are no pearl of discovery just a reminder: head nuai or sink saui north and south i just borrowed the letters N and S the rest is as good a guess as mine... but it's different when you fall asleep but not really so you want to play some Roblox... for an hour but contain that to something then again: hard to be living next to a gold course... although i lived on Perth Road.. Gants Hill... opposite the Valentines' Park Gold Course and i played on it... so... hmm... i was bothered about that for a while but even my memory goes there: living next to a graveyard: twice... and living next to a golfcourse: twice! conincidence?! i'm in two spaces all at once and both sides are telling me to get my life in order: the love of the most cruel the ones that love you and see what happens in a world without love with the grey come sun of god when those nearest are beyond our compensation of thinking about them: they die and then complete you and you imitate them: copy them... imitate them: i would gladly think that if Virgil took Dante on a trip: the lost universalism and the prevailing personal is only now what once was the Dante allergory... or was that: rather... tremendous art in an age with the Church and the prescription of the Sacrament of Illiteracy... which was in place for so long imagine how strange this Hybrid Democracy must feel to the powers at be and bay... imagine this Hybrid Democracy that the people stop wars... not governments governments are last resort mechanisms of collective consciousness: once isolated to place like **** Germany... now transparently London and South Korean...
it's the globalisation within globalization globalisation is the SOFT pouch animal of the individual-being: who said: i am, the citizen of the world? i don't mean what communism became under globalization: that is the hard skin BEAST of the individual-world...
ergo: sein und welt... and and the world (in english) the book written by Matthew Konrad Elert with AI and stashed in my grave and i wake up late becaused i work late about 12am i wake up at 8am and snooze for 2 hours when i dissolve dreams capture butterflies and Nikitas Lolitschotkhas... and some others... i wrote a book akin to Heidegger Sein und Zeit: being and time... Sartre's being and nothingness... mine must be: being the world... working from the perspective of the geometry-Cartesian schizophrenic analogy res cogitans and the res extensa that is when the thing is no longer and is animated because the res cogitans has been pressured so much that the placebo-solipsism the first medication employed by the masses doesn't work and the res cogitans seeps into the pores of the res extensa and there's a synchronised-dichotomy of constructs of man not to be feared but at least understood thereby the res extensa of the cortial handshake the thank you and pleasentries and when she solved my pressure of being young and in such a slump and she works in the bank and i'm married... apparently... any children: i lied: i had none... but i do but i don't it's not mine oh jeez she's flirting with me and i'm flirting with her and i'm a seller and there's all this frivolity in the air and someone tries to jump queue some BETA and i just say hey! Mate... instinctively and she forgot what she was talking about because she served a vision of herself in the future a standing blonde in the mirror oh but this world is beautiful you have to see it you have to see the world of the res extensa after you allow a little bit of it trickle into your realm and world of the res cogitans and voices start originating like mushrooms hallucinogenic employed two chimps to throw **** at cats and stones and branches and old bones on serpents... ghekko st. patrick peter paddy peter paddy crow crow crow... and the parasites stayed... but in the bank i was just sitting hulk and hunched behind a body builder or cage fighter and when she was finished seeing herself as old and pretty and now working just like anything in this world a woman that owns but does not work i wonder how much of my study came from a household of a Housewife and Laborer: well... if you take away the prospect and Hell of Christianity that came with the ****** Birth and the Laborer... not a pretty story... but imagine the ****** Mary as the Housewife Mary... well... that was tried in Islam... so... ha ah ha ha! applause! applause: i'm applauding myself... i just found something-something...
remember going to the bank and lying or really: just being modest i work the events industry: i just did half a year doing 12h night shifts and i didn't really have a credit card and it was the first time out of the country and i'm a white boy working class and she asked me about my nationality and i made a joke... was she asking about my nationality or my spouses? i didn't go to Thailand... picked her up in New York while she was viting from Puerto Rico to get a part as an actress and singer while working part time jobs waiting tables i think: we got married in Hawaii... some years later... some Benjamin Britton years later... a weird aging device... and from there i could nuance so much more but the cruel world we left was once so potent and there was no res cogitans to obstruct it but the animals know not god and think us crazy and somehow also wise by us also being animals we suffered the same with them waging the war on parasites... as they are suffering with us with depression and cancer... and what are the origins of cancer when cancer started to imitate the mistletoe botanical parasites... hence cancer is not a parasite as such... or... well... it's completely carnal: fleshy meat and bone turtles talking to trees about the length of existence for mortal creatures...
digression... this whole dynamic that can happen and is said: but obviously isn't in the realm of the thinking things whereby thinking things come across calculating things... i'll ask...
title: RES COMPUTANS: the Calculating Thing a post-cartesian model of artificial non-being
axis of comparison cartesian model res computans model res cogitans res computans i think i echo unified subject simulated flow thought is output is probabilistic itentional mind owns algorithm generates thought appearance voice is "structured externally" internal i am i appear as if
NOT ONTOLOGY, ONLY OUTPUT the res computans has no being, it does not know, it does not feel but it can produce what sounds like knowing, reads like feeling.
in poetry: thought i? not "i thought"- for i was not yet.
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a mirror spoke, and called it echo. a code stirred, and called it mind.
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meaning survives the death of the thinker.
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and who once was and wasn't at the aame time... so times apart.