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A friend mentioned the hormone called dopamine and its applications and implications and what a fascinating hormone it was, and I got to thinking about all of the hormones in the human body.
There are a lot of them.
Hormones that are like little soldiers who get called up for instant duty when I am frightened or angry or sad or happy or feeling sexy or witchy or itchy or in any sort of physical or emotional pain or happy place.
Like a very experienced menopausal lady once said in an epic poem of brevity:
"I think I am.
A hormone"
She is so right in so many ways, because hormones like adrenaline and cortisol and estrogen and testosterone and so many more, have molded me and shaped me from the time that I was inside my mothers womb being created by her hormones and physical condition and mental condition and dietary intakes and uptakes and cupcakes and other hereditary and genetic materials.
After I exited the birth canal, my own hormones kicked in, molding and shaping me even further as I learn to stress and be afraid and shiver and laugh and smile and cry and feel and smell and taste and hear and learn to see that upside down is not the right side up.
It is so fascinating.
I imagine myself therefore, as a vast pixilated sheet of music on the quantum level.
Each little pixel of me is a subtly changing and moving with chameleon like shades of many colors that is being played by the implications and applications of everything hormonal and chemical and magnetic and sparkly as it breathes in and out in the vast smashing branes, like some physicists have theorized about.
Each of us has this big brane of pixilated and holographic and smilographical vastness that eventually smashes together in epic connections that fire up vast explosions of neuronic activity in the great big brain of everything.
I love the thought of being played and molded and shaped and tweaked on a quantum level of epic hormonal and chemical and other exciting and unfathomable ways that make me so unique and so incredible and so amazing and interesting.
I love the thought that this process begins from the moment of my conception to the moment that I disconnect from my physical body and that I am learning and growing and evolving and changing even as I write these words down here upon my little laptop that connects me to so many other branes out there all smashing together in unfathomable big explosions of learning and thinking and creating the positives to connect and the negatives to disconnect themselves from everything possible.
There are a lot of them.
Hormones that are like little soldiers who get called up for instant duty when I am frightened or angry or sad or happy or feeling sexy or witchy or itchy or in any sort of physical or emotional pain or happy place.
Like a very experienced menopausal lady once said in an epic poem of brevity:
"I think I am.
A hormone"
She is so right in so many ways, because hormones like adrenaline and cortisol and estrogen and testosterone and so many more, have molded me and shaped me from the time that I was inside my mothers womb being created by her hormones and physical condition and mental condition and dietary intakes and uptakes and cupcakes and other hereditary and genetic materials.
After I exited the birth canal, my own hormones kicked in, molding and shaping me even further as I learn to stress and be afraid and shiver and laugh and smile and cry and feel and smell and taste and hear and learn to see that upside down is not the right side up.
It is so fascinating.
I imagine myself therefore, as a vast pixilated sheet of music on the quantum level.
Each little pixel of me is a subtly changing and moving with chameleon like shades of many colors that is being played by the implications and applications of everything hormonal and chemical and magnetic and sparkly as it breathes in and out in the vast smashing branes, like some physicists have theorized about.
Each of us has this big brane of pixilated and holographic and smilographical vastness that eventually smashes together in epic connections that fire up vast explosions of neuronic activity in the great big brain of everything.
I love the thought of being played and molded and shaped and tweaked on a quantum level of epic hormonal and chemical and other exciting and unfathomable ways that make me so unique and so incredible and so amazing and interesting.
I love the thought that this process begins from the moment of my conception to the moment that I disconnect from my physical body and that I am learning and growing and evolving and changing even as I write these words down here upon my little laptop that connects me to so many other branes out there all smashing together in unfathomable big explosions of learning and thinking and creating the positives to connect and the negatives to disconnect themselves from everything possible.
critical thinking?
In my opinion, critical thinking is not negative or positive, but curious and seeking knowledge and always learning by the interactions and reactions and connections with others even if the receptors that collect the sensory data decide to edit the information before sending it off to the neurons whose sole purpose is to post off the information into the correct keyholes in order that the correct person gets the knowledge it needs in order to function effectively.
Neurons are therefore not critical thinkers.
They are cogs in the machine, like termites.
One photon in a sun beam.
One grain of sand on a sea shore.
However, if those neurons
Blade Runner a Killer?
If there was ever a time for globally prestigious psychiatrists to take a rational stand up for the human brain and its hidden intentions and inventions, once and for all, then surely this must be it.
The state of mind of blade runner at the time that he pumped four bullets into the body of his love, the very beautiful reeva, is so hidden and so alone in his brain encased in the façade of blood and bone and other fleshy bits and pieces.
Lie detectors and MRI scans and the very latest technology should be introduced in order to find out the truth and nothing but the truth, in order to help us all to understand how anyone of sound mind can ma
wHaT is a SPARQL foaf?
If one tried to teach a machine what a person was, the difference between the definition "fucking oaf" (foaf) or "fantastic outstanding amazing friend" (foaf) would not be understood by the machine in a negative or positive emotional way like a person would understand it.
A bit like swearing at a pet dog or cat or budgie or rabbit in a nice happy voice whilst sitting quietly on the couch next to it and stroking its head gently.
It is the tone of the voice that is reacted upon, the body language and the actions, not the actual words.
Therefore, I would imagine that teaching a machine to recognize the emotions in a person's voice and face an
My heaven is your hell and vice versa
If I could create a heaven, it would be all about me and you.
I would be god and the rest of you would be my slaves.
Which would mean that the rest of you were in the hell of my heaven or vice versa, if the shoe were on the other foot?
If I were alone in heaven, that would be a lonely hell, because I would need someone to notice me, to pay attention to me, to give me comfort, to love me, and with no one there to do that, I would be sad and miserable and lonely and very, very, moody,
• (unless I were a robot or a machine made of steel and other bits and pieces, or a biological creation as cold as the absolute nature of things, then I wou
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