Seq 9: Uncanny valley > Hypnosis

Do philosophical zombies walk among us? Do the intellectual among them engage in zombie arguments, intensely discussing neutral and anomalous monism (see Plotinus in e*sequitur 26; before you dismiss this as abstruse note that Milton was a monist), the nomological character of causality and token instantiations? (Is the preceding down or is it just me? Are you, my by now recondite reder, down with this?) Who might watch a P-zed sitcom? Might it be a thought experiment on Twin Earths? Starring swamp men, golems and gynoids? (Rhetorically) How might they interact with Monads? Minions? Mighty Mouse? and other M-theoretical (see*sequitur 28) entities in the disputed realms of mental- and physicalism? Do they, in Olympian fashion, imbibe the ambrosia of pure reason? Or will they, more likely, produce pure asemia (see*sequitur 47) à la their simian congeners? Might they mumble, incomprehensibly, while gambling (Eurotrash "gift" to the Japanese) with the relics of Portuguese missionaries, such subtleties as "Akayoroshi"? Or in an extinct language, such as the L-dialect of the Nipmuc (living by Lake Chargoggagoggmanchauggagoggchaubunagungamaugg)? Might they, in the spirit of Cracker's narc-hypnotised swaying cobra cosmonaut, (compare this ambitious navigator [of the cosmos! {perhaps they were referring to a Russian cosmist (Tsiolkovsky [the rocket scientist who pioneered cosmonautics from a log house], after all, "believed that colonising space would lead to the perfection of the human race, with immortality and a carefree existence"; he wrote the basic equation for rocket propulsion; colleague Vernadsky conceived of the noösphere)}] with star [not [xxx^xxx Adult Content Warning] St*r Eyed Stella {Wilson's pirate booty}!] sailors [astronauts, taikonauts and angkasawan], space navigators [spationautes] and space tourists [and the infinitely more interesting oneironauts]) be put to useless use cataloging and deciphering sapiens' dermatoglyphs (approaching 140 billion, counting toeprints [ntm petrosomatoglyphs and the sin-absorbent Black Stone {contemporary of Adam 'n' Eve; recall Al-Ma'arri (who is not amused) in e*sequitur 12} {Or, as 'gypsies holoalphabetically say in Egypt, "Sphinx of black quartz judge my vow" (rot13: Jnygm, alzcu, sbe dhvpx wvtf irk Ohq [the rotholoalphabetic also]; this perfect pangram for you, Nancy).])? Or as Lethe-drinkard anamnesians, might they wander the Asphodel Meadows (or the median strip of whatever motorway) in limbo-like catatonia? Or as the Perseids of a Northern August night, in brief, thrilling passage?

Consider the consequences: When pursuing these shades, we encounter such surrealist oddities as Hume's fork (and the Is-Ought [no relation to Ness-Ity-Hood in e*sequitur 37] guillotine) (compare Max Ernst's [see*sequitur 91] Mr. Knife and Miss Fork), the brain in a vat ("envatted brain"[!] these phenomena are all very real, I assure and regret [but only a little] to inform you) (and see other thought experiments above), and the

e*sequitur 58: Malevolent G*d
(Our Delinquent Deity), misotheism and dystheism, blasphemical PsOV (points of view [and here we pen the argument for religion that zenatheists fail to grasp: That many of the masses are not in fact so gullible after all {they thus the Nongull horde; as for the rest, see*sequitur 18}, but, rather, being quite well in on the joke, have pragmatically weighed the benefits of family harmony, social community, behavioral regulation and permission to imagine

And of my powers, one springs up to save
From utter death a soul with such desires
Confined to clay - which is the only one
Which marks me - an imagination which
Has been an angel to me - coming not
In fitful visions, but beside me ever,
And never failing me...
Browning, "Pauline" (Ga 4.570001833)

{and dream; religion, we see, quintessentially creative (it the explanatory branch; par example, the antinomian Ranters, the eccentric Seekers [whose numbers included Roger Williams, ideator of separation of church and state] and the Russian "Spirit Wrestler" Doukhobors)}, hope {like prayer, a form of spirit•ual time travel and self-interested outcome projection} and aspire {including empathisable, wishful, abstract supertemporal fantasies (= "everlasting" "life"; see Seq 7)}, and {unable to imagine mundane equi•librium^® (experience proving otherwise)} wisely concluded that it's a better proposition than {and a hedge against} the State of Hobbes, Darwin's dice-o-death thrill ride inevitable game-over (video gameblers philosophe-acteurs) carcrash randomorphism, and Fables told by {secular} Power {zenatheists (what, exactly, do they have to offer?) facing the force majeure of two allied incumbents (see*sequitur 76), raising the questions (of): When will we stop misleading and miseducating our own species? How can we flush shamanism while maintaining its manifold benefits? With what will we replace it? Secular sustainabilism? And when (noting that so far each credal emancipation has resulted in heavier bondage in the chains of a more evolved [but of course! nature personified > hierarchical pantheons > undisprovable egomoniads {infantile mirrorgods}] brand of repressive sorcery)?}]), the little-known Cārvāka school, and "good" and "bad" equilibria, contrasted with

e*sequitur 59: the righteous 36
(Lamed Vav Tzadikim), upon whom humanity Talmudically and numerically relies, as brilliantly photographed by Todd Weinstein in and around Deutschland, including the Artist, the Golem, the Storyteller and the Teacher (also the 36 yakshinis, voluptuous mythical Indian beings, including Large Eyed, Conch Girl and Skull Girl). The point being that it is entirely possible for human life to be eliminated by chance, negligence or intention; also, that we are accountable, and the strings (chordophones; compare aerophones, idiophones, membranophones and of course modern electrophones [everything named {and "Dog's in 'is 'eav'n"}, "All's right with the world"]), including the calabash and cowskin kora (solos called biriminting) and

e*sequitur 60: the Welsh crwth,
a vowelless curiosity (the word, not the instrument), the Anglo-Saxon lyre, the lyrical épinette and the asymmetric gusli (relative of the kantele; and magic Karelian folk music) - instruments of catgut, muscle memory and braintilian mellifluence. Based on these it would appear, as Walter Pater not entirely hyperbolically asserts in Georgione, that "All art constantly aspires toward the condition of music." Pater may have "listened" posthumously (we'll never know) to John Cage's 4'33"; Marcel Duchamp's defaced "Mona Lisa" (abîmée mais cependant souriante), his former cardiopulmonary rhythm and flow remaining in the persistence of (his) memory. (Here and here are really long trips, so take them after you finish e*sequiturs.) To complete this equation, just add

e*sequitur 61: voices
(Valkyries = psychopomps; imagine this in high fidelity with 14-20 kHz present [the deficient mp3 format depriving the Internet generation of the aural orgasm {les ingénieurs dysotique calculating that they won't know what they're missing - fully one third of the music!!!!!!!!!!}]), and the seduction is complete (the technical expression "f**k my ears" [no other {as Frost might say} will suffice] obtains). Or if you prefer, the evercheerful Nina (nom) Hagen (who defiantly [illiterate spellcheck goof] knows where her spectacular mind is [2:22]: compare Ms. Spears in e*sequitur 14) channeling the fallen-to-earth extraterrestrial David Bowie (he, stranger; ours, a strange land {see*sequitur 93) (nom; see Carl Sagan in Anapology) or Altai throat singing or Ella Fitzgerald or Miles Davis or yesteryear's youthful, alienated Rolling Stones; who bring to mind a Huichol-hallucination-evocative Persian miniature cloud imperatively gotten off) and the influential

e*sequitur 62: Pere Ubu
(see also musique concrète and its numerous practitioners: Put on your tanks and start diving, noting that you may not return, but rather move on to a submerged, purely hydrophiliated life of merman- or mermaidry [or merhumanry] [and note the bi-finned nixie Melusine {see*sequitur 90; Starbucks' [comprehensive adult content] (appearing in an illustration by Paul Avril [nom], illustrator of galante literature including Cleland's Fanny Hill, Flaubert's Salammbô, Michelet's The Madam and Anon's [not eris real name] Gamiani) aquatic Godiva? (note Goethe's sorrowful young Werther's brief comparison of himself to Melusine:

MAY 12.
I know not whether some deceitful spirits haunt this spot, or whether it be the warm, celestial fancy in my own heart which makes everything around me seem like paradise. In front of the house is a fountain, - a fountain to which I am bound by a charm like Melusina and her sisters.

)}] in theses depths), about whose music words proverbially fail, ascending semi-sequiturially to the

e*sequitur 63: music of the spheres
(musica universalis), which is, after all, all music, and its codification (another damned gene) into musica mundana, musica humana (please no flatulence jokes) and the above exampled musica instrumentalis and Greg Fox's aural orrery "Carmen of the Spheres" (a spectral nonet "for nine sine waves" [and the planets' CDF/CSV duration and frequency tables]). One hopes Fox will also record musica humana (modulating human rhythms) and the now shamelessly set forth codification category musica artificialis (derived from non-instrumental artificial phenomena). Then there is the precursory, incomparable

e*sequitur 64: Philip Glass
(at the unsurpassed UbuWebsite) (bringing to mind the mystic, aethereal glass harmonica [Ben Franklin's {he of "in the dark [adult content] all Cats (cf. Bataille's lait) are grey" fame (cf. Chomsky in Anapology)} mesmerising and melodic {> reiki, qigong, jing (see Seq 2), supernormality and so much more...} [adult content]

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de rerum natura
(which, loosely translated, refers either to the nature of things or else encompasses the entire universe)

We can learn a lot from natural phenomena.
Take, for example, electricity and animal magnetism,
so that when two bodies attract,
their arboreal tattoos map concentrated lightning.

As alluded to above,
these forces are so feral
that chanters and lyrists
must repeat murmured rumors
using their tongues,
speaking of certain emotions
that charm certain salts
that discharge certain axons
that beat certain tom-toms;
therefore we blush.

Not really.
Moaners moan, and wailers, well,
wail
innately;
these acts occurring,
naturally,
like orgasms, electrical storms,
or magnetic disturbances on the surface of the sun,
obedient, most certainly,
to nature's nether laws.

Not really.
When two attract, I daresay,
the entire cosmos stands struck, dumb.
Perhaps nature can learn a thing
or two
from this phenomenon.

- David St.-Lascaux

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"armonica" version debuted in Ga 4.570001762 with coloured notes {synesthetes take note} and white accidentals {recalling black keys, black lines and an exhaustingly long list of dark matter that you can pursue on your own}, played here by Vera Meyer] an aeolsklavier [or hydrocrystalophone or hydrodaktulopsychicharmonica]), in this deft demonstration of concentrated music, marveling us at the intricacy of our sensory apparatus, with which (G*d, the electrochemical musician playing sonar rhapsodies in the benthic regions of our brains [cf. Vonnegut's novel epitaph: "HIS ONLY PROOF FOR THE EXISTENCE OF GOD WAS MUSIC"]) we may, without understanding, hear Emile de Leon "weaving tones on Tibetan Singing Bowls."

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> Seq A

* * *

Image: Repliee Q2
emotobot feminoid actroid (a three-for-three [being a behavioral, neurological and soulless] p-zombie; and see EveR-2 Muse ["Eve R"obot]: "Boredom is now an available emotion...." [to self-assess your boredom proneness, utilise this questionnaire {Appendix A}]; and meet Miss Rong Cheng, a Chinese Meinü ["beatiful woman"] [adult content]

* * *

Mons veneris

Today they say our galaxy
is scallop-edged
which Botticelli knew
Bold, Venus floats demur in space
above the lapping ocean
Her hair, a wavy waterfall,
swirls strategically down
To complete the sham, her hand,
in perfect, universal gesture
covers up her silky mound
itself obscuring frilly cuntlips
nestled round a little
emptiness

* * *

robot [noting ranko parties, shabu shabu clubs and enjo kosai]; and the longstanding Virtual Woman [{see chatbot Julia and verbot Sylvie} since 1987 {"Your Girlfriend Just Got Some Competition" (and of course R. Luke DuBois' "Play 2006" centerfolds-in-a-vacuum [their incomprehensible, inaudible come-hithers and flirtive {note the relative axial stability of the} eyes illusion {surely there is an unexpurgated, go-go dancing version of this with a larger set of variables}], remarkable in its ability to produce the uncanny valley response); intelligence level a menu option... ; your correspondent is forced to admit that the existence of these entitties (sorry) does give (superfluous) credence to the assertion in Genesis that men, lonely (see*sequitur 52), seek female companionship} {although it deserves to be, the emergent topic of Internet-related social isolation will not be addressed in e*sequiturs}]), taken by Brad Beattie at Index Osaka. To quote Tom ([unmoderated? and unlikely to pass a Turing test] who will converse with the reder here), in response to a remark about (backmasked) rain: "Depressed people in my mind - are missing this - and truly know we only know life as the fake."