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Hawkeye Speaks's avatar

Another excellent article, my friend. It's sharp, and I assume that you are correct about it all.

Now, perhaps you'll consider some expansion points: we're talking about AI powered globalism, right? But ai, in its present and future iterations, is not responsible for the creation of globalism. Imperialism empowered by the Techne is more root cause, isn't it? Which takes us to the top of the arrow: scientific imperialism. James, to me, we have to go towards deep psychology to bring some of the anchor points of this entire scheme to the surface. Why point towards the distopian future when it's already right beneath our feet? From soil carbon architecture as the basis of biospheric integrity (climate) to currency control models, we have some serious institutional support for ai globalism that I think we need to have a hard look at.

Cynthia Ford's avatar

I'm listening to your discussion with Dean Rickles on stopping the machine, and I was struck by your rose dreams and lucid dreams. Clemens G. Arvay, who sadly couldn't take being villified over his thoughts about public health during the pandemic, wrote The Biophilia Effect, which I bought and read to support his family and to honor him, and he writes about mothers and roses. "Everyone recognizes the smell of the substance called indole in rose blossoms from their mother's body. Decomposing substances in amniotic fluid lead to the formation of indole , which comes into contact with our senses through our mouth and nasal mucous membranes when we're in the womb. Indole in pure form doesn't smell like roses, more like overripe fruit. Only after combining with many other substances is the rose fragrance cocktail produced. However we are unconsciously recognizing the scent of the indole because of our prenatal past. It sounds strange but the rose actually arouses preconscious memories of our time in our mother's womb.' (p.140)

and we have ee cummings https://www.poeticous.com/e-e-cummings/if-there-are-any-heavens

In the realm of the nonlocal nontemporal, the timeless realm, the mother, who will become the Virgin Mary and roses and the tilpa of Guadalupe which plays an ethereal music, begins in the move from the forest to the savannah, bipedalism, the young born earlier, unable to cling, the mother hominin laying the infant down to gather, call and response, and in that, according to the late Frederick Turner and the rogue anthropologist Ellen Dissanyake, begins music, poetry, ritual, community. There begins Mary, a gift to us from the unfathomably intricate intelligence of the cosmos, which knows the furnace of hubris, greed, sex, status madness etc. is somehow necessary but terrible, horrifying, and almost unendurable.

Here's Turner on poetry 40 years ago, so prescient, though it seemed pretty absurd at the time.

The Neural Lyre https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poetrymagazine/browse?volume=142&issue=5&page=64

I am really getting so much from all your talks with Mishlove and others, so much gratitude.

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