The idea of the machine gives more and more an idea of ourselves than what we recognise. Fundamentally, the machine/engine is much more reliable than our ability to 'be' ourselves. Much of our dialogue here is a search for what 'is'. I watched Ben's contribution on Scott Kiloby's vid-blog (or whatever its referred to as) with complete disinterest.

Why?

Because stillness isn't anymore enlightening than movement.

Stillness of mind and movement doesn't prevent the moment. You still 'are' independently of whether you realise it or not - and if that is the case, why is it so imperative that we achieve stillness? To be disaffected? What's so troublesome about being affected? Isn't stillness an affectation? I don't mind being troubled by things - politics and ethics are Hindu, Buddhist and Taoist principles, as are the Greek, Roman and Christian logicians of our own civilisation.

If the good is stillness, then Buddhism renounces teaching... which of course it doesn't; its entire tendancy is toward expansion. Expansion through stillness.

My ultimate question (beyond all of the half-assed derivatives that would probably offened about a billion people if they read it) is "what is the good?" If we cannot agree upon a 'natural' human being (one that is still, moving, thinking, doing, fucking, producing), then what should we agree upon? Justice? God/s? Education?

Moreover, what is 'our' nature?

For I fear the machine is what we actually admire most about ourselves.

I'll stop there, with a postscript below.

Cheers,

Peter

PS:

This post was one of many that I tried to start but felt that I couldn't; having re-visited the initial post, I felt compelled. It was as follows:

"I'm absolutely in constant fear of writing. I recently mapped my own metaphorical cartesian plain of my fears and achievements, in which I had to in turn also project my mathematical interpretation of social expectation of the reception of myself."