Physical Brain States

This morning in Philosophy, we continued our dicussion on the philosophy of the mind. Our good friend René Descartes is in on this discussion as well, as he was in many of the areas of philosophical discourse.

We were discussing the views of Dualism, more specifically substance dualism, versus Materialism in the question of whether the mind is a seperate thing from the body. I don't think that I could adequately relate both views, but I will try for the quickie versions. The substance dualist might say that there are two kinds of substances in reality, matter (physical substance) and mental substance, the body and brain being physical matter and the mind being made of this mental substance. The simple problem with this is that there is no way to prove the existence of "mental matter," or how the mind would then interact with the physical matter that is our brain.

The materialist tries to simplify the problem further by saying that there is no such thing as the mind or mental matter. There is only the physical body, the brain. Any thoughts, feelings, or mental states that we have are equivalent with the physiological processes that we have observed during these mental states. Our professor used pain as his pet example. Studies using MRI scans have shown that certain fibers in the brain, c-fibers, fire when people experience the mental state of pain. He said that there is a bit more to it than that, but that the materialist says this mental state is not something that we experience seperate from the physiological response: we have no "mind."

The problem with Materialism is that if there is no mind, if we don't experience mental states apart from our physical states, then what makes us who we are? This view would have us understand ALL of our mental states (pain, love, joy, anger, fright, confusion, etc.) to simply be physiological, perhaps chemical reactions taking place in our brain and central nervous system. Our professor said that this gets tricky because by believing this, you are basically saying there is no soul.

All this to tell you that when I heard this in class, it made me think of the story of the little mermaid, the actual one by Hans Christian Anderson. In the story, mermaids don't have immortal souls. When they die, they simply turn to foam. In a weird, funny way, if one subscribes to Materialism, then they believe that we turn to foam when we die. My reasoning for this is that the materialist says that mental states = brain states. Therefore, when our brain dies, we die. Well, during the process of natural decomposition of the body, the brain is one of the organs that goes early. This is because "all the bacteria in the mouth chew through the palate," says Arpad Vass in Stiff: The Curious Lives of Human Cadavers by Mary Roach. The brain is quite soft and apparently easy for the bacteria to munch. "The brain liquefies very quickly. It just pours out the ears and bubbles out the mouth." This is known as "frothy purge."

So, if you believe that we are just physical matter and firing electrons, then you might say that we too turn to foam when we die.

A Shared Sagacity

"Ask the former generations and find out what their fathers learned, for we were born only yesterday and know nothing, and our days on earth are but a shadow."

-Job 8:8-9

Earlier this afternoon, I was able to visit a good friend of mine whom I have not been previosuly disposed to see for the past three weeks or so. Thelma is a friend of the lady that I used to live with, Helen. Helen made it a certain habit to go and visit Thelma every Friday afternoon, as often as she was able. She took the two local newspapers to Thelma, and we would stay and watch Jeopardy. They had known each other for many, many years. When their husbands were still alive, they would all spend time together. Sister has met Thelma one time, and I imagine that she could confirm my saying that Thelma is a wonderful lady.

She called me the other evening and told me that her daughter, who had been battling cancer for some time, passed away. I cannot begin to imagine the pain of losing a child, no matter what his or her age. Thelma's granddaughter, Kelly, has been helping both her mother and grandmother. She has been taking it quite hard since she had been so close to her mother through much of her ordeal. Thelma was matter-of-fact. She didn't cry or ask me to come see her, but when you're grieving, if you're like me, you need people whether you tell them that or not. We were both glad to see each other when I did stop by.

Despite the slight melancholic atmosphere, we had what was pretty much one of our regular conversations. We talk about so many things. I think that we think alike; instead of thinking linearly, we both use circular strings of thought (though mine might actually be more entropic than that). The conversation got around to the uses of profanity, and then marital disputes. Thelma has had many rich life experiences, and she is wonderful at sharing the gems of knowledge that she has collected along the way. "If you and your husband are ever upset or angry with each other, you should dress yourself up, have your husband dress up, and go out. Do something that you both enjoy doing. Have fun together."

There is a story that goes with this pearl of wisdom. At one time Thelma worked for the Family Services Agency. She saw many couples that would come in for counseling, and as numerous as they were, they often shared similar problems. One lady came to see a counselor about her relationship with her husband feeling worn-out. The counselor asked her, "What did you and your husband do for fun before you married?" "Well, we used to go fishing," the somewhat befuddled lady replied, for what does fishing have to do with an unhappy marriage? The counselor then further inquired as to when they had last gone fishing together. "I can't even remember, it's been so long," was the lady's response. "Sometime within the next two weeks, if you can, get your fishing gear together, perhaps pack a picnic lunch, and go fishing with your husband."

With the counselor's order fresh in her mind, the lady went home and pulled out their old rods and reels. Her husband wasn't quite sure what was going on, but he didn't mind a short vacation from the mundane. They packed into the car, stopped and bought some bait at the store, and spent a warm afternoon at the lake. They didn't catch very much more than the few flies that tried to infiltrate their lunch.

When the lady next went to see the counselor, she was asked how things were going. The lady explained, "Well, I took your advice. Bill and I went fishing. We didn't really catch anything and we did get a bit of a sunburn. But that was the most fun that we've had together in years."

In this manner Thelma related an important piece of advice for me to remember: you have to be friends with your spouse. You should be able to have fun together.

Sometimes opening a bucket of worms isn't such a bad thing.

Green Chickpeas

Last night, which is still only one or two hours ago, was splendid. At work, we completed our work load and left two hours early. We were also sent home with goodies since there had been a party earlier today. The day shift left some wonderful things: chocolate covered peanuts, some exquisite peanut butter fudge cheesecake stuff, a meat and cheese tray, and some salsa con queso. I brought home the rest of the peanut butter cheesecake stuff and the salsa con queso. Mmm.

After work, since I got off early, I planned to go watch the rental movies with Sister and Brother, but they were going out to the movies with Mom and Jolly. So, much to my delight, I was able to watch a movie with Grandma. We declined to view the rental movies in favor of an old film version of Little Lord Fauntelroy, based on the book by Frances Hodgson Burnett. When we were still homeschooling, this book was on the list of books that Mom wanted us to read, and I actually read it. I think that I first heard the story when Mom read it to us. (And that's a wonderful habit, I think. Sharing treasured stories aloud, whether by recitation or reading, is such an amazing memory.)

I forgot how funny it was, and there were some very notable actors of the day in the movie. Mickey Rooney played the role of Dick, the shoeshine boy that was friends with young Ceddie. One of the Barrymore ladies was in it as well, but I don't think that it was Ethel, and I honestly couldn't tell you for sure. Grandma worked on the houseshoes/bedsocks that she is knitting while we both watched the film. It was nice.

Driving home in these wee hours has been nice. There is almost no one else on the road, and I can roll the windows down, turn the radio on (or not) and just take my time. I was especially taking my time this evening. After turning onto East German Canal street, I saw a light, tan-colored feline slinking across the five lanes not too far ahead. It did hurry up and finish across. Further down, when I was closer to home, I spotted something by the trash bags that were moping in front of one of the darkened houses. I slowed down to make sure that I didn't hit it, and I caught a glimpse of it: a raccoon. I went a few driveways up and turned around to go see it again. I was stalking a small, foraging raccoon at 1:00 in the morning. I finally did go home after getting in a few more good looks at him.

Well, if I don't want to look like he did, I better go ahead and go get some sleep. I feel like I might fall asleep on the keyboarlkj e li sdlkfj nr aokls oiwer/;/o awiiuse;rl.