Daily Dopamine Dump

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Big/Sky/Fly said:
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All over the GPT
 
johnlocke said:
Um. Maybe if this is indeed is a perceptual Crow Epistemology issue, your lack of ability to see any dots at all suggests, maybe, just maybe 🤔 that you are not human my friend. :alien:😲😊

I was thinking though, shocker I know, I submit that we don't see with our eyes per se. Our eyes are an organ which provides visual information of stimuli to our brains which receive in the form of percepts which a higher cognitive function processes into usable data for use or something of that nature.

Percepts are beginning of sense perception to which our senses provide the raw info, our brains are what actually perceive it.

So do our eyes really see? Is there a better more accurate term we can use to describe their function? 🤔

Seems like a worthy rabbit hole to enter today.

If you don't hear from me in a bit don't worry I'm probably smoking a hookah sitting on a mushroom with the caterpillar. 😁🙃❤✌👹😇🤯


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Loved Alice. Even better when I'm 10 feet tall.

Cheers
Big/Sky/Fly said:
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Moebius revisited?

Cheers
 
Big/Sky/Fly said:
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All over the GPT

“If a nation expects to be ignorant and free, in a state of civilization, it expects what never was and never will be.”
― Thomas Jefferson
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BostonTim​

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Cheers
Big/Sky/Fly said:
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Moebius revisited?

Cheers

The Stolen Child

Where dips the rocky highland
Of Sleuth Wood in the lake,
There lies a leafy island
Where flapping herons wake
The drowsy water-rats;
There we've hid out faery vats,
Full of berries
And the reddest stolen cherries.
Come away, O human child!
To the waters and the wild
With a faery hand in hand,
For the world's more full of weeping than you can understand.
Where the wave of moonlight glosses
The dim grey sands with light,
Far off by furthest Rosses
We foot it all the night,
Weaving olden dances,
Mingling hands and mingling glances
Till the moon has taken flight;
To and fro we leap
And chase the frothy bubbles,
While the world is full of troubles
And is anxious in its sleep.
Come away, O human child!
To the waters of the wild
With a faery hand in hand,
For the world's more full of weeping than you can understand.
Where the wandering water gushes
From the hills above Glen-Car,
In pools among the rushes
That scarce could bathe a star,
We seek for slumbering trout
And whispering in their ears
Give them unquiet dreams;
Leaning softly out
From ferns that drop their tears
Over the young streams.
Come away, O human child!
To the waters and the wild
With a faery hand in hand,
For the world's more full of weeping than you can understand.
Away with us he's going,
The solemn-eyed:
He'll hear no more the lowing
Of the calves on the warm hillside
Or the kettle on the hob
Sing peace into his breast,
Or see the brown mice bob
Round and round the oatmeal-chest.
For he comes, the human child,
To the waters and the wild
With a faery hand in hand,
From a world more full of weeping than he can understand.

William Butler Yeats 1886
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