Friday, July 26, 2013

July 26 9:15 pm

TEAR OUT PAGE

So I think we are both working on a tear out page and an image of Father Bleary is in my mind and I bet he is writing over there about the suffering day.  But, and this is odd, I can recall that day –- after all I was there -- but I have no need to revisit it.  And I know exactly what day it was because it was the first day that I understood that God had His own reasons, that innocents would suffer regardless.  But I don’t care as much anymore.  My suffering is, suddenly, gone.  The bad feeling in the back of my mind, the bad taste in the back of my mind, the sad burden of regret, of I did something wrong and I can’t make it beater, is gone.
Sally sells sea shells by the sea shore.  E=mc2.  The rain in Spain falls mainly on the plain.  Godel’s incompleteness theorem by Kleene states any effectively generated theory capable of expressing elementary arithmetic cannot be both consistent and complete. In particular, for any consistent, effectively generated formal theory that proves certain basic arithmetic truths, there is an arithmetical statement that is true, but not provable in the theory.
I don’t think I am impaired cognitively.  The testing should show that.  I just feel…different.  Lighter.  Less weighed down.  Less sticky.  Like I’ve stopped swimming in molasses.  The world is clear and sharp but not with feelings, it just is.  I looked up for a minute and saw me writing still.  Head still down, I was just watching this -- mostly black haired head, getting a little thin up there.  Got to work on that…How do I feel?
I know I, we, are being taped now, and have sensors tracking everything, from BP to HR to temp, etc. etc.   So I am not giving anything away by looking up at Jim, trying to sense what I feel, are the diagnostics changing?  I better get back on a real page.

END TEAR OUT PAGE

July 26 9 pm

Holy crap indeed.   Some philosophers might well characterize matter that way.
But I am functioning (so far!) and although every one wanted to rush into the room and start testing both of us, we needed a minute, ignoring the many many observations that were being made of us, and simply staring at each other, absorbing the other.
I backed away from the door and he did too and we smiled, both of us wanting the other in “their” room.  It shouldn’t matter, this territoriality, after all we were made of the same genetic stuff, but I still perceive him now as another.
Wow Maria!  What now?
And all that went though my head in a second, as he waited on the other side of the connecting door and he then suddenly strode through into “my” room, and so come closer to my.
I had never seen myself this close before, seen myself as others see me, and the heightened anticipation, the adrenaline, enhanced my perception and for him too as we reached out and grasped each other’s hands and held them for a minute.  Reasonably firm grip, skin fairly soft.  I rotated his hand and looked at the backside of it, and then he did it back again it was a very odd thing they were the same hand, two of them, in full mirror image, the back of his hand, with its hairs and veins and finger ligaments and knuckles and my fingertips wrapping around them with my visible nails, and rotating the hand, slowly and the wrinkles where the skin is and the color slowly changing to from the lighter palm on his to the darker skin and just the reverse on mine, thumb and forefinger meeting at the exact same angles, on either hand, and looking like a mirror image exactly but in 3D and over to the back of my hand, and every single thing looking the same once I rotated it in my mind, ever hair and vein and ligament and knuckle in the right place but rotated wrong until I figured it out, and then it snapped into place it was exactly the same as mine, wow.  An intellectual construction, the nano, essentially little equations putting themselves together into something here and tangible something: me.  Wow wow.  I was weak all of a sudden and looked around for a chair and he did too, after all we were probably having the exact same reactions.
I have made me. “Right?” I asked, and he said it at almost the same time, and we both smiled.  Jim looked at us, and I shook my head now, but on the other hand it would be valuable to us, to science to record it now, so I stood up and he did at the same time and walked into his room and I was writing already when he came back.

July 26

Ok, you’re done,”  Jim comes in quickly and I jump.
“That was too quick, something’s wrong.”
“No we’re cool sunshine, you just lost it a little, you might have fallen asleep, which wouldn’t be surprising considering the neural flooding of your system.”
“Of course not, “ he says, and leaves, to go to the other room.
Wait a minute.  What did he mean I am done?  Which one am I?  I jump up, we made these two rooms too identical dammit, now I am confused and I rush to my connecting door and open it…
And I look at me, standing there.  Staring at me in the doorway.
“Hello,” I say.
“Hello,” I say back.
“Okay,”  This is nuts.
“I know,” I say and smile.  Ha, Wittgenstein you lose. 
And Jim says holy crap from somewhere and from beyond the window I hear the faint sound of cheering. 
Holy crap indeed.