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Links With Your Coffee - Monday

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There is no limit, it seems, to the different tasks that elicit subtly, and sometimes not so subtly, different patterns of neural activation. Surely then, all the thinking must be going on in the brain? That, after all, is where the lights are.

As our technologies become better adapted to fit the niche provided by the biological brain, they become more like cognitive prosthetics.

But then again, maybe not. We've all heard the story of the drunk searching for his dropped keys under the lone streetlamp at night. When asked why he is looking there, when they could surely be anywhere on the street, he replies, "Because that's where the light is." Could it be the same with the blobs?

Is it possible that, sometimes at least, some of the activity that enables us to be the thinking, knowing, agents that we are occurs outside the brain?

In his latest Vanity Fair column, "Tea'd off," Christopher Hitchens goes after the Tea Party, its guiding light Glenn Beck, and all the more "moderate" Republicans who excuse Beck's palpable racism and lunacy in the interest of political power. It's a hard-hitting and truthful column, and brings up an elephant in the room that I've long perceived: much of the opposition to Obama is based, pure and simple, on the fact that he's partially black. I've never been able to fathom the vehemence of the opposition without this hypothesis.

One of my favorite segments from this debate.


 

Comments

RE: Atheist Band Upsets Jesus Freaks

I'd hate to see liberals fall into the same hole as conservatives as far as highlighting the outrage du jour as is done in this piece. Who gives a fuck what some white trash mom in Texas thinks about atheists? You can always cherry pick one asshole out of a crowd who you don't agree with and is offensive.

If I heard a group of people playing vuvuzuelas they would have a bigger problem than a bit of community outrage. After suffering through last summer's World Cup acceptance of this ultra-annoying instrument I never want to hear one as long as I live (or perhaps until Spain wins another Mundial).

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