Zone1 Does the Human Soul have Consciousness?

[BackAgain]

If the human soul exists at all, it seems clear that it exists within a living human body. When we are alive and conscious, our perceptions of “reality” depend on human biochemical reactions. But what happens to our “soul” when our human body dies?

Just as we can no longer see or hear or taste or smell or feel when the body dies, maybe our soul similarly just dies. But maybe, instead, that which we consider the “soul” leaves the host body cells to rejoin all the other energy in the universe in its amazing variety of forms.

 

[The Irish Ram]

My understanding is similar but a little different.
Weve both discussed this before. Few others pay attention to the fact that both humans and animals have a spirit that returns to the Creator. Most people call that the "soul"

It's kind of hard to decipher, because both are comparative in scripture. In fact 3 are spoken of. Humans have a soul, and a spirit, and if you ask for it, a portion of the Holy Spirit. Our soul is the whole of us. Our spirit interacts with God and the Holy Spirit. <which can also indwell if we ask for it.
If you look at Jesus, He sent His Spirit to God, his body went to the tomb, and His soul went to Abraham's Bosom for three days.

 

[The Irish Ram]

If the human soul exists at all, it seems clear that it exists within a living human body. When we are alive and conscious, our perceptions of “reality” depend on human biochemical reactions. But what happens to our “soul” when our human body dies?

Just as we can no longer see or hear or taste or smell or feel when the body dies, maybe our soul similarly just dies. But maybe, instead, that which we consider the “soul” leaves the host body cells to rejoin all the other energy in the universe in its amazing variety of forms.

Then, what would be the point?

Where does this concept of the soul come from?

 

[BackAgain]

Then, what would be the point?

Where does this concept of the soul come from?

I don’t understand your question.

What’s the point of having a soul which can escape the decaying corpse after the body dies?

What’s the point of a soul which can join with other universal energy after a person dies?

 

[Crepitus]

"The physical world is entirely abstract and without ‘actuality’ apart from its linkage to consciousness. It is primarily physicists who have expressed most clearly and forthrightly this pervasive relationship between mind and matter, and indeed at times the primacy of mind." Arthur Eddington wrote, “the stuff of the world is mind‑stuff. The mind‑stuff is not spread in space and time." Von Weizsacker stated what he called his “Identity Hypothesis; that consciousness and matter are different aspects of the same reality. In 1952 Wolfgang Pauli said, "the only acceptable point of view appears to be the one that recognizes both sides of reality -- the quantitative and the qualitative, the physical and the psychical -- as compatible with each other, and can embrace them simultaneously . . . It would be most satisfactory of all if physis and psyche (i.e., matter and mind) could be seen as complementary aspects of the same reality.

Mind, rather than emerging as a late outgrowth in the evolution of life, has existed always as the matrix, the source and condition of physical reality - that the stuff of which physical reality is composed is mind-stuff. It is the constant presence of Mind that has composed a physical universe that breeds life, and so eventually evolves creatures that know and create."

George Wald, Nobel Laureate

"The physical world is entirely abstract"?

Just how much dope do you guys have to smoke to have one of these conversations?

I'm out, only so much retarded nonsense I can tolerate in one day.

No no, don't get up, not in your condition. I'll see myself out.

And for goodness sake don't drive!

 

[ding]

"The physical world is entirely abstract"?

Just how much dope do you guys have to smoke to have one of these conversations?

I'm out, only so much retarded nonsense I can tolerate in one day.

No no, don't get up, not in your condition. I'll see myself out.

And for goodness sake don't drive!

I think it's great that you are arguing against world renowned scientists such as Wald, Eddington, Pauli and Von Weizsacker. Just goes to show that militant atheists only pretend to love science.

 

[The Irish Ram]

I don’t understand your question.

What’s the point of having a soul which can escape the decaying corpse after the body dies?

What’s the point of a soul which can join with other universal energy after a person dies?

Yeah, where did we get the idea that we have a soul to begin with, and if it dies when the body gives out, then what's it good for, And if the body dies doesn't the energy die with it too? Is it mankind just not wanting death to be the end of him, so some energy remains and becomes part of the cosmos?

 

[Meriweather]

To demand that a soul actually exists is silly.

It is my understanding soul is synonymous with spirit, and that human beings are composed of body, mind, and spirit. When one has a problem or a decision to make, the mind, based on knowledge, can present several choices. It is my understanding the 'essential me' (or spirit) makes the decision.

Are you saying that the mind presents the knowledge and choices, and then selects a choice? If that is so, why would the mind waste time presenting choices, why not just zero in the course of action it intends to take? Also, if it is not the 'essential person/spirit' that makes the choice, why, when given choices, do minds of different humans select a variety of choices?

 

[Procrustes Stretched]

It is my understanding that consciousness (awareness of one's singularity) is a basic human trait which allows for the concept of an individual soul, something that transcends physical life. However, as a matter of brain function, consciousness ceases after death. The question I have is does some sort of consciousness remain with the human soul? If not, how would we be aware of any continuity after death, and whether that constituted a reward or punishment for our earthly behavior?

It seems to me that, without some continuing consciousness, we would never know if we had a soul, much less have any recognition of where our souls might ultimately reside. Has anyone else considered this potential dilemma? If so, what are your thoughts?

24:20

questioner:
"wondering about the potential measurement of Consciousness. I believe what we call Consciousness is an energy or Quantum equivalent that emerges, grows, expands, converts like other forms of energy or slash matter. It seems that as the universe expands, Consciousness is emerging as a natural result of the separation of all matter from its source over time. We likely need something to measure immersing Consciousness if it exists as some fundamental energy. What would we use to measure other forms of energy like Consciousness?"

... chatter

expert:
"There like many people agree with your belief, believe as you do that Consciousness must be something physical...There is not yet any scientific evidence to confirm that. If there were some way to measure it we'd be working on it right now. There have been studies for example where they tried to measure the mass of a soul, or a Consciousness based on uh, the mass of your body uh, or your brain before an event and after an event, in terms of Consciousness or unconsciousness, and there just hasn't been anything yet."



Mister Iggy buttercup toobfreak theHawk and ...

 

[ding]

I'm out

 

[Procrustes Stretched]

It is my understanding soul is synonymous with spirit, and that human beings are composed of body, mind, and spirit. When one has a problem or a decision to make, the mind, based on knowledge, can present several choices. It is my understanding the 'essential me' (or spirit) makes the decision.

Are you saying that the mind presents the knowledge and choices, and then selects a choice? If that is so, why would the mind waste time presenting choices, why not just zero in the course of action it intends to take? Also, if it is not the 'essential person/spirit' that makes the choice, why, when given choices, do minds of different humans select a variety of choices?

see #49

 

[ding]

see #49

George Wald responds:

II. Consciousness​

The problem of consciousness was hardly avoidable for someone like me, who has spent most of his scientific life working on mechanisms of vision. That is by now a very active field, with thousands of workers. We have learned a lot, and expect to learn much more; yet none of it touches or even points however tentatively in the direction of telling us what it means to see.

I learned my business on the eyes of frogs. The retina of a frog is very much like a human retina. Both contain two kinds of light receptors, rods for vision in dim light and cones for bright light; the visual pigments are closely similar in chemistry and behavior; both have the same three fundamental nerve layers, and the nervous connections to the brain are much alike. But I know that I see. Does a frog see? It reacts to light -- so does a photocell‑activated garage door. But does it know it is responding, is it aware of visual images?

There is nothing whatever that I can do as a scientist to answer that question. That is the problem of consciousness: it is altogether impervious to scientific approach. As I worked on visual systems -- it would have been the same for any other sensory mode, let alone more subtle or complex manifestations of mental activity -- this realization lay always in the background. Now for me it is in the foreground. I think that it involves a permanent condition: that it never will become possible to identify physically the presence or absence of consciousness, much less its content.

I of course have some preconceptions, but the only unequivocally sure thing is what goes on in my own consciousness. Everything else that I think I know involves some degree of inference. I have all kinds of evidence that other persons are conscious. It helps that they tell me so, and display other evidences of consciousness in speech and writing, art and technology. I believe that other mammals are conscious; and birds -- that business of singing at dawn and sunset makes me think that they are essentially poetic creatures. But when I get to frogs I worry, and fishes even more so. Those animals at least respond reasonably to light and some visual images. But I have worked also on the numerous and anatomically magnificent eyes of scallops, without finding any indication that these animals see, beyond reacting to a passing shadow. The last animals whose vision I worked on with my own hands were worms with great big bulging eyes, with everything you could ask for in an eye. The eyes yielded fine electrical responses to light, but I never could get the worms themselves to give any indication whatever that they responded to light. Maybe they didn’t like being with me.

Any assumption regarding the presence or absence of awareness in any nonhuman animal remains just that: an unsupported assumption. Matters are no different with inorganic devices. Does the photoelectrically activated garage door resent having to open when a car’s headlights shine on it? I think not. Does a computer that has just beaten a human opponent at chess feel elated? I believe not. But there is nothing I can do to shore up those assumptions either.

Consciousness is not part of that universe of space and time, of observable and measurable quantities, that is amenable to scientific investigation. For a scientist, it would be a relief to dismiss it as unreal or irrelevant. I have heard distinguished scientists do both. In a discussion with the physicist P. W. Bridgman some years ago, he spoke of consciousness as “just a way of talking.” His thesis was that only terms that can be defined operationally have meaning; and there are no operations that define consciousness. In the same discussion, the psychologist B. F. Skinner dismissed consciousness as irrelevant to science, since confined to a private world, not accessible to others.

Unfortunately for such attitudes, consciousness is not just an epiphenomenon, a strange concomitant of our neural activity that we project onto physical reality. On the contrary, all that we know, including all our science, is in our consciousness. It is part, not of the superstructure, but of the foundations. No consciousness, no science. Perhaps, indeed, no consciousness, no reality -- of which more later.

Though consciousness is the essential condition for all science, science cannot deal with it. That is not because it is an unassimilable element within science, but just the opposite: science is a highly digestible element within consciousness, which includes science as a limited territory within the much wider reality of whose existence we are conscious. Consciousness itself lies outside the parameters of space and time that would make it accessible to science, and that realization carries an enormous consequence: consciousness cannot be located. But more: it has no location.

Some years ago I talked about this with Wilder Penfield, the great Canadian neurosurgeon. In the course of his therapeutic activities he had unprecedented opportunities to explore the exposed brains of conscious patients, and hoped in this way to discover the seat of human consciousness. I asked him, “Why do you think consciousness is in the brain? Maybe it’s all over the body.”

He chuckled, and said, “Well, I’ll keep on trying.”

About two years later, I met him again and he said to me, “I’ll tell you one thing: it’s not in the cerebral cortex!”

Shortly afterward came the exciting announcement that the so‑called reticular formation in the brain stem of mammals contains an arousal center, a center that seems to wake creatures up and produce awareness. The problem with all such observations is that one cannot know whether one is dealing with a source or with part of the machinery of reception and transmission. It is as though, finding that the removal of a transistor from a television set stopped the transmission, one concluded it to be the source of the program.

How could one possibly locate a phenomenon that one has no means of identifying -- neither its presence nor absence -- nor any known parameters of space, time, energy exchange, by which to characterize merely its occurrence, let alone its content? The very idea of a location of consciousness is absurd. Just as with Heisenberg’s uncertainty principle, we have more to deal with here than technical inadequacy, with a perhaps temporary lack of means of observation and measurement. What we confront is an intrinsic condition of reality. It is not only that we are unable to locate consciousness: it has no location.

Consider pain, the most primitive of sensory responses, and most closely connected with survival. I have had to kill many animals in the course of my work, and have tried always to inflict a minimum of pain. But do other animals than man feel pain? Many physiologists assert that only warm‑blooded animals feel pain, and some of their publications have stated this as an official view. The National Eye Institute announced only in 1979 a first break with this position, asking workers with cold‑blooded animals to try to avoid giving them “unnecessary pain.” When I lop off the head of a frog, I assume that the headless body is beyond pain; but is the head? So I hastily destroy the brain, and hope that ends the problem. Yet I have heard Wilder Penfield say that once a human brain has been exposed, one could operate on it with a spoon without causing an unanesthetized patient any great discomfort. And what of a worm, any small piece of which writhes on being pinched?

Recently there has been a controversy in the American press involving some physicians having asserted that a human fetus feels pain in an abortion. The very idea should raise deep concern about the very widespread Arnerican practice of circumcising male newborns, performed routinely without anesthesia, the physicians having assured the mothers that the nervous systems of their infants have not yet developed sufficiently for them to feel pain. All such assertions are equally groundless. Even as regards so primitive a concept as pain, we are altogether baffled in trying to substantiate its occurrence or absence.

I used to show students a film made by the French zoologist Faure‑Fremiet on the feeding behavior of protozoa. Many of our sturdiest concepts of the apparatus required for animal behavior are mocked by these animalcules, particularly by the ciliates; for in one cell they do everything: move about, react to stimuli, feed, digest, excrete, on occasion copulate and reproduce. In this film one saw them encountering problems and solving them, much as would a mammal. I remember best a carnivorous protozoon tackling a microscopic bit of muscle. It took hold of the end of a fibril, and backed off at an angle, as though to tear it loose. When the fibril would not give, the protozoon came in again, then backed away at a new angle, worrying the fibril loose, much as a dog might have done, worrying loose a chunk of meat. It was hard, watching that single cell at work, not to anthropomorphize. Did it know what it was doing?

But then, ciliate protozoa are the most complex cells we know. How about a cell highly specialized to perform a single function in a higher organism, a nerve cell for example, that can only transmit an impulse? Once, years ago, I was visiting the invertebrate physiologist, Ladd Prosser, at the University of Illinois in Urbana. He took me into his laboratory, where he was recording the electrical responses from a single nerve cell in the ventral nerve cord (which takes the place of our spinal cord) of a cockroach. It was set up to display the electrical potentials on an oscilloscope screen, and simultaneously to let them sound through a loudspeaker. I was hearing a slow, rhythmic reverberation, coming to a peak, then falling off to silence, then starting again, each cycle a few seconds, like a breathing rhythm. Prosser remarked, “That kind of response is typical of a dying nerve cell.”

“My God!” I said, “It’s groaning! You’ve given it a voice, and it’s groaning!”

Was that nerve cell expressing a conscious distress? Is something like that the source of a person’s groaning? There is no way whatever of knowing.

So that is the problem of mind -- consciousness -- a vast, unchartable domain that includes all science, yet that science cannot deal with, has no way of approaching; not even to identify its presence or absence; that offers nothing to measure, and nothing to locate, since it has no location.

 

[ding]

"The physical world is entirely abstract"?

Just how much dope do you guys have to smoke to have one of these conversations?

I'm out, only so much retarded nonsense I can tolerate in one day.

No no, don't get up, not in your condition. I'll see myself out.

And for goodness sake don't drive!

Feel free to comment on post #52 with that big brain of yours. Don't be shy in showing us your intellectual superiority.

 

[Votto]

I don’t understand your question.

What’s the point of having a soul which can escape the decaying corpse after the body dies?

What’s the point of a soul which can join with other universal energy after a person dies?

The point is potential immortality.

The material world is in a constant state of flux 24/7. This mean that what was a second ago is not the same as it is now. In addition, the material world is in a constant state of decay, ending in an entropic devolving into nothingness when it is all said and done. This means that all you see in the material universe will cease to be at some point.

Then you have to ask yourself, once it all disappears, was it really real to begin with?

What is eternal is what is really real and not the constant change all around you in the material universe.

I have heard many life after death accounts that challenge the notion that all there is, is a material universe, but usually people discount it as chemical reactions in the brain that cause people to have visions of a life to come. However, one particular event is impossible to discount and explain away. It was a case of a man blind since birth who had a near death experience. He had never had the ability to see his entire life. However, when he experienced leaving his body and entering another room with people in it, he could see for the first time. He then noted what people were talking about in the adjoining room from when his lifeless body was left, and he began to drift outside. But then he all at once went back into his body and woke back up.

When he came around, he told people what he saw and heard them say in the next room as well as intimate details on what everything looked like since he had the ability to see for the first time in his life, things in the room and outside the building. But it was the craziest thing, once he came back into his body he lost the abili8ty to see again.

 

[Procrustes Stretched]

George Wald responds:

II. Consciousness​

The problem of consciousness was hardly avoidable for someone like me, who has spent most of his scientific life working on mechanisms of vision. That is by now a very active field, with thousands of workers. We have learned a lot, and expect to learn much more; yet none of it touches or even points however tentatively in the direction of telling us what it means to see.

I learned my business on the eyes of frogs. The retina of a frog is very much like a human retina. Both contain two kinds of light receptors, rods for vision in dim light and cones for bright light; the visual pigments are closely similar in chemistry and behavior; both have the same three fundamental nerve layers, and the nervous connections to the brain are much alike. But I know that I see. Does a frog see? It reacts to light -- so does a photocell‑activated garage door. But does it know it is responding, is it aware of visual images?

There is nothing whatever that I can do as a scientist to answer that question. That is the problem of consciousness: it is altogether impervious to scientific approach. As I worked on visual systems -- it would have been the same for any other sensory mode, let alone more subtle or complex manifestations of mental activity -- this realization lay always in the background. Now for me it is in the foreground. I think that it involves a permanent condition: that it never will become possible to identify physically the presence or absence of consciousness, much less its content.

I of course have some preconceptions, but the only unequivocally sure thing is what goes on in my own consciousness. Everything else that I think I know involves some degree of inference. I have all kinds of evidence that other persons are conscious. It helps that they tell me so, and display other evidences of consciousness in speech and writing, art and technology. I believe that other mammals are conscious; and birds -- that business of singing at dawn and sunset makes me think that they are essentially poetic creatures. But when I get to frogs I worry, and fishes even more so. Those animals at least respond reasonably to light and some visual images. But I have worked also on the numerous and anatomically magnificent eyes of scallops, without finding any indication that these animals see, beyond reacting to a passing shadow. The last animals whose vision I worked on with my own hands were worms with great big bulging eyes, with everything you could ask for in an eye. The eyes yielded fine electrical responses to light, but I never could get the worms themselves to give any indication whatever that they responded to light. Maybe they didn’t like being with me.

Any assumption regarding the presence or absence of awareness in any nonhuman animal remains just that: an unsupported assumption. Matters are no different with inorganic devices. Does the photoelectrically activated garage door resent having to open when a car’s headlights shine on it? I think not. Does a computer that has just beaten a human opponent at chess feel elated? I believe not. But there is nothing I can do to shore up those assumptions either.

Consciousness is not part of that universe of space and time, of observable and measurable quantities, that is amenable to scientific investigation. For a scientist, it would be a relief to dismiss it as unreal or irrelevant. I have heard distinguished scientists do both. In a discussion with the physicist P. W. Bridgman some years ago, he spoke of consciousness as “just a way of talking.” His thesis was that only terms that can be defined operationally have meaning; and there are no operations that define consciousness. In the same discussion, the psychologist B. F. Skinner dismissed consciousness as irrelevant to science, since confined to a private world, not accessible to others.

Unfortunately for such attitudes, consciousness is not just an epiphenomenon, a strange concomitant of our neural activity that we project onto physical reality. On the contrary, all that we know, including all our science, is in our consciousness. It is part, not of the superstructure, but of the foundations. No consciousness, no science. Perhaps, indeed, no consciousness, no reality -- of which more later.

Though consciousness is the essential condition for all science, science cannot deal with it. That is not because it is an unassimilable element within science, but just the opposite: science is a highly digestible element within consciousness, which includes science as a limited territory within the much wider reality of whose existence we are conscious. Consciousness itself lies outside the parameters of space and time that would make it accessible to science, and that realization carries an enormous consequence: consciousness cannot be located. But more: it has no location.

Some years ago I talked about this with Wilder Penfield, the great Canadian neurosurgeon. In the course of his therapeutic activities he had unprecedented opportunities to explore the exposed brains of conscious patients, and hoped in this way to discover the seat of human consciousness. I asked him, “Why do you think consciousness is in the brain? Maybe it’s all over the body.”

He chuckled, and said, “Well, I’ll keep on trying.”

About two years later, I met him again and he said to me, “I’ll tell you one thing: it’s not in the cerebral cortex!”

Shortly afterward came the exciting announcement that the so‑called reticular formation in the brain stem of mammals contains an arousal center, a center that seems to wake creatures up and produce awareness. The problem with all such observations is that one cannot know whether one is dealing with a source or with part of the machinery of reception and transmission. It is as though, finding that the removal of a transistor from a television set stopped the transmission, one concluded it to be the source of the program.

How could one possibly locate a phenomenon that one has no means of identifying -- neither its presence nor absence -- nor any known parameters of space, time, energy exchange, by which to characterize merely its occurrence, let alone its content? The very idea of a location of consciousness is absurd. Just as with Heisenberg’s uncertainty principle, we have more to deal with here than technical inadequacy, with a perhaps temporary lack of means of observation and measurement. What we confront is an intrinsic condition of reality. It is not only that we are unable to locate consciousness: it has no location.

Consider pain, the most primitive of sensory responses, and most closely connected with survival. I have had to kill many animals in the course of my work, and have tried always to inflict a minimum of pain. But do other animals than man feel pain? Many physiologists assert that only warm‑blooded animals feel pain, and some of their publications have stated this as an official view. The National Eye Institute announced only in 1979 a first break with this position, asking workers with cold‑blooded animals to try to avoid giving them “unnecessary pain.” When I lop off the head of a frog, I assume that the headless body is beyond pain; but is the head? So I hastily destroy the brain, and hope that ends the problem. Yet I have heard Wilder Penfield say that once a human brain has been exposed, one could operate on it with a spoon without causing an unanesthetized patient any great discomfort. And what of a worm, any small piece of which writhes on being pinched?

Recently there has been a controversy in the American press involving some physicians having asserted that a human fetus feels pain in an abortion. The very idea should raise deep concern about the very widespread Arnerican practice of circumcising male newborns, performed routinely without anesthesia, the physicians having assured the mothers that the nervous systems of their infants have not yet developed sufficiently for them to feel pain. All such assertions are equally groundless. Even as regards so primitive a concept as pain, we are altogether baffled in trying to substantiate its occurrence or absence.

I used to show students a film made by the French zoologist Faure‑Fremiet on the feeding behavior of protozoa. Many of our sturdiest concepts of the apparatus required for animal behavior are mocked by these animalcules, particularly by the ciliates; for in one cell they do everything: move about, react to stimuli, feed, digest, excrete, on occasion copulate and reproduce. In this film one saw them encountering problems and solving them, much as would a mammal. I remember best a carnivorous protozoon tackling a microscopic bit of muscle. It took hold of the end of a fibril, and backed off at an angle, as though to tear it loose. When the fibril would not give, the protozoon came in again, then backed away at a new angle, worrying the fibril loose, much as a dog might have done, worrying loose a chunk of meat. It was hard, watching that single cell at work, not to anthropomorphize. Did it know what it was doing?

But then, ciliate protozoa are the most complex cells we know. How about a cell highly specialized to perform a single function in a higher organism, a nerve cell for example, that can only transmit an impulse? Once, years ago, I was visiting the invertebrate physiologist, Ladd Prosser, at the University of Illinois in Urbana. He took me into his laboratory, where he was recording the electrical responses from a single nerve cell in the ventral nerve cord (which takes the place of our spinal cord) of a cockroach. It was set up to display the electrical potentials on an oscilloscope screen, and simultaneously to let them sound through a loudspeaker. I was hearing a slow, rhythmic reverberation, coming to a peak, then falling off to silence, then starting again, each cycle a few seconds, like a breathing rhythm. Prosser remarked, “That kind of response is typical of a dying nerve cell.”

“My God!” I said, “It’s groaning! You’ve given it a voice, and it’s groaning!”

Was that nerve cell expressing a conscious distress? Is something like that the source of a person’s groaning? There is no way whatever of knowing.

So that is the problem of mind -- consciousness -- a vast, unchartable domain that includes all science, yet that science cannot deal with, has no way of approaching; not even to identify its presence or absence; that offers nothing to measure, and nothing to locate, since it has no location.

"The bird is fine, the bird is fine, the bird is fine, it’s dead"

btw, Buddha said "When a bird is alive, it eats ants. When the bird is dead, ants eat the bird." Lesson of Time Karma

 

[Procrustes Stretched]

The point is potential immortality.

Potential?

"Close only counts in horseshoes and hand grenades”
and immortality? Look up the definition.
"Immortality is the indefinite continuation of a person's existence, even after death. In common parlance, immortality is virtually indistinguishable from afterlife, but philosophically speaking, they are not identical."

D'Oh!

 

[Procrustes Stretched]

24:20

questioner:
"wondering about the potential measurement of Consciousness. I believe what we call Consciousness is an energy or Quantum equivalent that emerges, grows, expands, converts like other forms of energy or slash matter. It seems that as the universe expands, Consciousness is emerging as a natural result of the separation of all matter from its source over time. We likely need something to measure immersing Consciousness if it exists as some fundamental energy. What would we use to measure other forms of energy like Consciousness?"

... chatter

expert:
"There like many people agree with your belief, believe as you do that Consciousness must be something physical...There is not yet any scientific evidence to confirm that. If there were some way to measure it we'd be working on it right now. There have been studies for example where they tried to measure the mass of a soul, or a Consciousness based on uh, the mass of your body uh, or your brain before an event and after an event, in terms of Consciousness or unconsciousness, and there just hasn't been anything yet."



Mister Iggy buttercup toobfreak theHawk and ...

"There have been studies for example where they tried to measure the mass of a soul, or a Consciousness based on uh, the mass of your body uh, or your brain before an event and after an event, in terms of Consciousness or unconsciousness, and there just hasn't been anything yet."

 

[ding]

"The bird is fine, the bird is fine, the bird is fine, it’s dead"

btw, Buddha said "When a bird is alive, it eats ants. When the bird is dead, ants eat the bird." Lesson of Time Karma

I never saw a wild thing sorry for itself. A small bird will drop frozen dead from a bough without ever having felt sorry for itself. D. H. Lawrence

 

[ding]

 

[Procrustes Stretched]

I never saw a wild thing sorry for itself. A small bird will drop frozen dead from a bough without ever having felt sorry for itself. D. H. Lawrence

The Complete Poems of D.H. Lawrence Quotes by D.H. Lawrence

14 quotes from The Complete Poems of D.H. Lawrence: ‘I never saw a wild thing sorry for itself. A small bird will drop frozen dead from a bough without e...

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I don't know if birds have emotional feelings. If they do, to what extent and how deep? Are they self-aware?

I wish I could read the mind of a wild animal. Would that make me a god messing with a soul?