The Eastern Mysticism thing had gotten you into mantra mode. It’s a testimony that you stopped where you did.

In comment #43, that was a four “a” “way” eh?

You know, from what I have gathered here, there is no such thing as an altered state, as all the states seem to eye each other suspiciously. I guess, for me, an unaltered ground state is the one that best serves a given set of survival requirements. Furthermore, I would assert the mind’s right to exercise more than one state of consciousness at a time. On your drive to work, you may have admired the distressed woman’s ensemble and had an aesthetic reaction to a poster on the retreating bus, and not missed a beat in your driving. My assertion here might be that the judgemental/ruminative is coexisting with the reactional/actionative.

And, if I can remember a far-off course that I once took, the monkey’s ability to learn how to throw fecal matter is referred to as “monkey see - monkey doo”.

It seems the example of throwing a stone (that I borrowed from William Calvin) is thought to be too complex by some to occur without language. Calvin’s idea actually suggests that the naturally selected physical attributes that allowed hominids to increase the distance and accuracy of stone throwing included the mental machinery for sequential thought (bigger brains) which accidentally provided fertile grounds for the development of language.

Calvin’s theory appears far fetched to many of us because it paints language, one of our crowning human achievements, as a lucky by-product. But Calvin’s theory addresses a puzzle written into our best archeological and fossil evidence. His theory seeks to explain why some 2.5 million years ago, hominids were happily chipping away at and using stone tools but not really speaking about it or showing uniquely human characteristics until approximately 40,000 years ago,

Tree claims that the sequence of words I used to describe the act of throwing a stone is evidence that stone throwing relies on words. I think that Tree makes an error here in equating a description of an action with the action itself. But try as I might, there doesn’t seem to be a way for me to divorce my words from my descriptions (or actions?).

In our culture of words and books and television, even when we learn an action for the first time, it is usually to the accompaniment of a steady stream of words and instructions from an experienced relative, teacher or coach. For us, raised in a culture that uses language, words are necessarily linked to our actions. Even so, it is not clear to me that our actions are dependent on our words, or even on our thoughts. As hard as it is for us to imagine throwing a stone without language, poop-throwing, tool-using monkeys demonstrate that it can be done. Learning need not be accomplished through language. Effective learning strategies need be no more complex than monkey see, monkey do. It is important to consider examples of learned behaviors in our fellow mammals precisely because they do not seem to utilize language. It is proof of concept – action without words.

Young squirrels learn how to chew open nuts and become more and more efficient at doing so. Presumably, they remember where they hide nuts.

Beavers, as I mentioned before, cut down trees, harvest the bark for food, store it for winter, parcel out the wood for construction tasks, build mud insulated wooden huts, engineer dams, canals, and alter the environment to favor their survival.

Apes recognize themselves in mirrors, practice deceptive behaviors, form social alliances for political reasons, fish for termites with sticks, use rocks as hammers and form hunting parties to track down monkeys with the intent to kill.

All of this is accomplished without language as we know it, and if we argue that it is accomplished with language, then it seems to me we become obligated to grant all primates inalienable human rights.

I took Tree’s plain assertion (that words must be the catalyst for action) seriously and spent some time trying to monitor the mental process I use when I undertake simple or complex tasks. My experience is that, even if I try to ‘think what I’m doing’ – turn the key, open the door, sit in the seat, crank the ignition… my commentary or narrative are soon overwhelmed. I can’t keep up. In fact, it seems I don’t even try to keep up. Usually what happens is I start to think about other things. Say I’m driving to work and I see a lady running to catch the bus, but she is too far away and the bus is already leaving. As I drive past the desperately running lady, I see her unexpected physical exertion reflected in her face. I see and empathize with her evident dismay. It looks like it was important for her not to miss the bus. She’s really dressed up. Maybe she was headed for a job interview. Maybe I should help. Maybe she would be afraid of me. I wonder if perhaps I might not be missing my own metaphorical bus by not more actively pursuing my own job interviews etc. Before I know it, I’m at work. It is sometimes troubling to realize that I don’t really know who is responsible for driving me there (But more often then not he does a good job).

It seems that at least a part of me is fully capable of working not only without words, but maybe even without consciousness.

I am aware from my readings that the brain has many different structures in it. I think there is a primitive brain stem that handles most of the things that reptiles need to do to be able to function. I know there are two main hemispheres that are slightly asymmetrical, that have unique properties, that are hooked together and that communicate - but one is dominant. I know there are various lobes here and there associated with particular functions. But I guess the point is, wherever in the brain our word-befuddled consciousness may reside, it doesn’t seem to be the boss.

Think of the brain as composed of Capt. Kirk and Dr. McCoy – Action and Emotion. Then at the end of the ice age, add a Mr. Spock Module that has thought and logic and language. Clearly, Mr. Spock is an important addition to the federation, but Capt. Kirks instincts and reflexes coupled with McCoy’s emotions frequently trump Mr. Spock’s advanced thinking skills.

O.K. That was a really crappy analogy.

Anyway, if we view thought and language as recent developments, we can see signs that they haven’t been fully integrated into our makeup. We all know that smoking is harmful to our health, but a significant portion of us insist on continuing to smoke. Overpopulation seems to be a problem, but couples often insist on having big families. We have the capability to be rational, so it seems, but we are seldom rational.

I wonder if the desire to experience altered states isn’t the Mr. Spock module rebelling against the responsibility that his reason imposes. With reason, we can begin to predict the near future and plan accordingly and this is harder than the good old days when we could just go throw a rock at an animal and eat it for dinner.

Maybe we glamorize those raw feelings and inbred instincts as being closer to nature and more about what it is to be human than we should, because the real altered state is this new experiment in consciousness that has never been tried before and by which we distinguish ourselves from the other animals.