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--Vass, Arpad A., "Dust to Dust: The Brief, Eventful Afterlife of a Human Corpse," Scientific American, August, 2010
Next to my son's anger plate tectonics are nothing to me. His unhappiness was caused by me. His purpose and mine is to catch photons and store them in our bones. Time measures change which continues without self-doubt. There is no self there. Therefore, why care about my son's anger or my guilt? Is it possible as Deutsch suggests that the changes a self-aware organism can applying the scientific method instantiate are innumerable compared to those of the sun or any big bang? Therefore, one must care about the harm you've done or the good you'd do. As Stevens proved the essential activity's to imagine the world then test it against the breeze. What good is philosophy without a confession I sometimes hit whenever angry and can kill given opportunity and permission. My knowledge of enduring seeds and periodic elements is limited by my impatience. If I could stop circle with a dot breathing perhaps then I would understand myself. But what is there to know about the self? Long ago, according to Borges, Shakespeare imposed a self-imposed silence on himself. He knew what, that perfect acts, accurate and factual, actually requiring microscopes and telescopes for growing small and going far take you to the very space a gentle breeze and ridiculous bird occupy at the end of the mind at the end of your life. "Death initiates a complex process by which the human body gradually reverts to dust but minerals may fill the cracks and voids, bonding the hydroxyapatite and allowing the bones to join . . ." in the happy tectonics of the earth's plates.
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