13 March, 2004

Not Just a Voice In the Crowd

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I got up arond 6 this morning, came downstairs, and brewed some java. Turning on the TV, I switched over to C-SPAN and watched their Washington Journal or whatever it's called. A moderator reads articles from various newspapers and viewers call in to comment. I was pleased to see that the head of the Godless Americans PAC was on for half an hour. A few atheists called and remarked that they were grateful for their actions but it seemed like most callers were Xtians who spouted their bullshit pieties. One guy said that God was in the Constitution so thusly the PAC was full of shit. I remarked to a roommate who was by then awake and sitting by me that God does not appear in the Constitution. He didn't believe me and told me to get my copy of the it out for inspection. Lo and behold it wasn't. And there was the typical "eveything was better before prayer was removed from schools" line of faeces. Why is it that everything was better before I was born? And how long have people been saying that?

On the radio this morning I heard a piece about Kitty Genovese. Ms. Genovese lived in New York and in 1964 was brutally assaulted for 35 minutes before she finally died. Her pleas for help were heard by 38 people according to police but no one lifted a finger - even to call the police. I had, of course, heard of this tragedy and I think it inspired the notion for women, when being assaulted, to yell "Fire!" instead of crying for help. But one thing I didn't know about Kitty Genovese was that she was a lesbian. Now, as far as I know, the killer was (is) just a sick fucker who liked to kill and killed women because they put up less of a fight. But could some of the neighbors seen it was Genovese being assaulted and just decided that she was getting what they felt she deserved? I don't know and doubt we'll ever know.

As I laid in my bed reading last night, I thought about my consciousness. Specifically, I thought about that voice inside my head that illuminated the words which my eyes were gazing upon. In a moment of self-reflexivity, I had a conversation with myself.

"So I have this voice inside my head. The voice - my consciousness - doesn't sound like the voice with which I speak."

"Well, duh! Of course I don't. It was formed long before your speaking voice started sounding like it does."

"So do you sound like my voice did as a young boy?"

"I don't think so, no. I think I sound totally different."

"Well, where did you come from? What were you like before I had acquired a language?"

"I don't remember what I was like back then..."

You can see my conundrum. When I daydream, when I am sitting in a chair staring off into space and I envision me talking to a beautiful woman or that I'm being interviewed by someone on BookTV because my novel has revolutionized contemporary literature, the voice in my daydream isn't my speaking voice, it's the voice of my consciousness. Does a woman's consciousness sound like "feminine"? If so, why? When we think to ourselves, we think with words, right? How do we think before we know any words? Where does that voice in our heads come from? Where does language fit into our consciousnesses?

Getting away from matters cognitive, I have to say that The Bell is getting good. The introductory character exposition is over and the story has begun proper.

Well, I've got a Bill Monroe show playing now (19 September 1954) and I'm gonna work on Severus...

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