Since he asked to read it once I had described it to him, here is the final section of Jaynes' book; it's the section titled "The Auguries of Science". This way, if you like, you can click the cut to get the full transcription, copy/paste it, and print it out to read in your own sweet time, Darryl. Enjoy, homeslice!
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A full transcription of Book III, Chapter 6 of Julian Jaynes' The Origin of Consciousness in the Breakdown of the Bicameral Mind. )
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You amazed me in this comment with your self-perceptiveness and your willingness to be open and vulnerable. It's inspiring to see and I do not take it for granted.
I think if we have conversed so much on LiveJournal, it's because we are dealing with similar issues in our writing.
I feel myself moving away from the events of my writing as I try to describe them, moving toward language and conceptualization, metaphor and simile, and away from the reality which should instead mesmerize me.
This is the kind of thing I remind myself often.
But you see, these summations are easy and clear in this didactic tone I have.
Again, we've had numerous discussions about didactic tone, so I risk repeating myself here, but anyway... The didactic tone definitely has its place-- in a textbook or a pamphlet, or in a personal essay, a casual letter or a work of philosophy. I greatly enjoy catachrestic's posts, many of which are didactic, because they are so clearly laid out and rich in metaphor. They are ( ... )
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I'm ostensibly moving to Los Angeles to become a writer professionally, a writer of screenplays, treatments, of stories, and eventually I'd like to publish a novel. I'm trying to be practical about it all. I honestly strive for some sort of virtue in an ability to adapt and grow as a person and as a writer. I think I have some rather beautiful ideas for television. Doing them justice is a primary goal, and it is necessary to remember that I am not my ideas, and my ideas are not me, and so too with my words. Your Henry Miller quote seems entirely applicable. I write a tremendous amount of text, and most of what I post here is me either flying in the face of or falling prey to this sort of instant audience; the internet is not a tremendous garden for a writer to bloom in, he loses himself in all the voices, the expectations, the immediate deflections and distractions that arise. Indeed, we should all be writing our novel ( ... )
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