#extended mind

[russellmoreton]

Camera Obscura : Reflections and the dark room. by Russell Moreton Via Flickr: pictify.com/user/russellmoreton

[lotus-pear]

horrendously late entry for @luneariann’s dtiys!! congrats on one million ely i’m so proud of you <3

[asavt]

Once upon a time a small rat walked into my web...

[cosmossystem]

what i feel like is lacking from conversations about plurality is how genuinely, fundamentally cool it is to be plural. doesnt it fascinate you how our brains can create entirely new selves, inner worlds, inner structures to keep itself afloat? doesnt it make you so curious? especially with regards to atypical plural experiences. i dont hate people for having entire systems full of fragments or fictives or subsystems. in fact, i find it wonderful, a miracle of the mind. you have a complicated inner world with unique lore? incredible, how did that develop? your entire system is full of fictives from the same source? thats amazing, hows that going? your system has entire layers on itself, with several systems running in tandem? wow, thats fascinating, how did you know? you believe you came from different worlds? tell me about them. please, tell me more about yourselves. id love to hear it. i do not fear the potential of the human brain.

[realityhop]

“Reed noted that the implications of technology are at the heart of industrial music and in its internal conflict with the musical equipment that helped make its sounds possible—the music expresses both technophilia and technophobia, and this position between love and fear drives it into paranoia.”

— Adam Steiner, Into The Never: Nine Inch Nails and the Creation of The Downward Spiral (2020)

“Technology obeys no one’s will.  Can we play along with it without labouring to master it?”

— John N. Gray, “Playing With Fate” in Straw Dogs

“In philosophy of mind, the extended mind thesis (EMT) says that the mind does not exclusively reside in the brain or even the body, but extends into the physical world.  The EMT proposes that some objects in the external environment can be part of a cognitive process and in that way function as extensions of the mind itself.  Examples of such objects are written calculations, a diary, or a PC; in general, it concerns objects that store information.  The EMT considers the mind to encompass every level of cognition, including the physical level.”

— Wikipedia, Extended mind thesis

“A resistance fighter understands that technology must never be accepted as part of the natural order of things, that every technology—from an IQ test to an automobile to a television set to a computer—is a product of a particular economic and political context and carries with it a program, an agenda, and a philosophy that may or may not be life-enhancing and that therefore require scrutiny, criticism, and control.  In short, a technological resistance fighter maintains an epistemological and psychic distance from any technology, so that it always appears somewhat strange, never inevitable, never natural.”

— Neil Postman, Technopoly: The Surrender of Culture to Technology (1992)

“Dystopian science fiction often imagines an evil empire that replaces names with numbers.  Real-life prisons do it to prisoners.  There’s a reason.  To become a number is to be explicitly subservient to a system.  A number is a public verification of reduced freedom, status, and personhood. It’s especially chilling to me, because my mother survived a concentration camp, where your number was tattooed on your arm.  That would be too expensive to do today.  The Nazis would just store your number, along with your biometrics, in the cloud. This might all sound a little too dark to people playing the social media numbers game.  I am presented with a thoroughly modern dilemma.  If people want to be subsumed, then who am I to say, “You should fight for your individual dignity?”  Doesn’t that make me the one who isn’t respecting the wishes of others? Because of the dilemma I just mentioned, I don’t want to criticize people who seem to like the situation—for instance, young people who are trying to be social media influencers.  Instead I’ll focus on people who are trying to do something other than be a number, even as they are subsumed by the new reality of number supremacy.”

— Jaron Lanier, Ten Arguments for Deleting Your Social Media Accounts Right Now (2018)

"But continuing to question numbers, or what we imagine to be numbers, and why they appear, is indeed a source of richness."

— Ludo Couvreur quoted in Says Who? (2015)

"We may be digital natives, but ‘digital infants’ might be a more accurate description."

— Paul Verhaeghe, Says Who? (2015/2017)

[philosophiesde]

Die Hypnose

Die Hypnose – als Beispiel für eine praktische Anwendung des Paradigmas des “embodiment” und “embededdness” Abstract Der folgende Essay soll die Hypnose als Beispiel für eine praktische Anwendung des Paradigmas des “embodiment” und “embededdness“ näher untersuchen. In diesem Zusammenhang wird versucht die Wirksamkeit des Hypnoseverfahrens mit Hilfe von empirischen Befunde aus den kognitiven…

[nyoomerr]

Shen Yuan entered Luo Binghe’s life like any other good thing he’s ever had: with great difficulty, and accompanied by copious amounts of sex.

The difficult parts don’t bear talking about. Luo Binghe still feels his stomach drop at the reminders of those first few mercurial months of knowing Shen Yuan, at the way Shen Yuan had unintentionally dismantled most notions of what Luo Binghe thought a happy ending should be like. He doesn’t think he’ll ever quite enjoy thinking about that time: it had been, in some ways, a more miserable challenge to overcome than his time in the Abyss had been. 

(It had been, in many ways, the only challenge Luo Binghe had ever had to face that was directed inwards. There was no straightforward evil to banish or monster to slay. There was hardly even a wife to seduce, given the fact that Shen Yuan had let himself be seduced by Luo Binghe’s image long before Luo Binghe himself had ever arrived in Shen Yuan’s world to begin with. 

There was only this: in order to grasp the incandescent happiness that Shen Yuan presented - that Luo Binghe deserved - he had to admit that every moment of so-called happiness he had experienced for the last century had been a fool’s imitation of it. In order to be happy with Shen Yuan, he had to admit to being miserable without him. 

It was humiliating, and it was nauseating, and it had even made Luo Binghe cry once, where he thought Shen Yuan wouldn’t be able to see him. 

He’d been so, so glad when it turned out Shen Yuan wouldn’t even look away from that - from Luo Binghe at his least lovable.)

No, the difficult parts of Luo Binghe’s conquest of Shen Yuan are best kept carefully out of mind. The other, better parts of that conquest - the parts involving hot skin against skin, as close as Luo Binghe could get to fitting Shen Yuan within his own flesh where he could never part from him - those parts are far more pleasant to remember, and Luo Binghe works to make new memories of that sort every day. 

Despite its pleasantness, however, the sex is not Luo Binghe’s favorite part of his courtship with Shen Yuan.��

“Bing-ge,” Shen Yuan calls, voice just an octave shy of a proper whine, “surely we can spend summers in my world? You can’t really think this heat is more pleasant than modern AC, ah?”

Luo Binghe hums, leaning in to run his mouth across the plane of Shen Yuan’s neck, savoring the smell of Shen Yuan’s sweat. His skin is tacky from the heat; Luo Binghe briefly fantasizes about being able to stick himself to it permanently. 

“Wasn’t it Yuan-er who begged to see the Fire-Driven Herons’ migration? It only happens once every decade, after all.”

“I know that,” Shen Yuan says, scowling. “I was the one who told you that.”

“Yuan-er is the most knowledgeable about this world,” Luo Binghe agrees. 

Shen Yuan sighs, squirming half-heartedly in Luo Binghe’s lap - a wordless threat to get up. Obediently, Luo Binghe waves the fan in his free hand a bit quicker in Shen Yuan’s direction, threading delicate veins of qi into the generated wind to ensure it’s pleasantly cool. Satisfied, Shen Yuan settles back in, starting up one of his charming lectures about the fauna of Luo Binghe’s world. 

Luo Binghe listens more to the cadence of Shen Yuan’s voice than to the words themselves. He doesn’t often find it necessary to know the ecological features of a beast in order to slay it, or to capture it for Shen Yuan’s zoo, or to cook it into a proper meal. 

Still, this is what Luo Binghe likes best - what he likes even more than sex, which he’d thought to be his favorite activity from the ages of 17 to 132. 

Lounging on the ground, Shen Yuan sat snugly in his lap and held close by Luo Binghe’s free arm, allowing himself to be pet and cuddled as if it were a natural part of a trip to see some ugly birds migrate - 

Pressing his nose into the nape of Shen Yuan’s neck, left bare by Luo Binghe’s own hands that had been responsible for putting Shen Yuan’s hair up in its current complicated hairstyle - 

Idly fanning Shen Yuan to keep him cool even even while Luo Binghe himself is the greatest source of heat when pressed so close in the summer sun like this -

Over a century into his so-called happy ending, Luo Binghe has rediscovered his greatest pleasure to be physical affection of a non-sexual sort, and Shen Yuan gives it as freely as he breathes.

Oh, he fusses and complains and acts as if he must be coaxed into loving Luo Binghe, but it is such a poor act that Luo Binghe can’t help feeling nothing but warm indulgence towards it. 

“Don’t be so bold,” Shen Yuan will scold when Luo Binghe buys lube without hiding his identity, and yet in the next moment he’ll casually thread his fingers between Luo Binghe’s to hold his hand all the way through their walk down the main street of town.

“Who taught you to act like this, ah?!” Shen Yuan will complain when Luo Binghe ensures his subordinates know what an honor it is to be allowed to look at Shen Yuan, but then it will be Shen Yuan himself who will seat himself directly at Luo Binghe’s side instead of any more appropriate location for a Lord’s wife.

“There’s no need to be so sticky,” Shen Yuan will sigh when he catches Luo Binghe practically running back from the kitchens with breakfast, eager to return to his sweetheart’s side, but then Shen Yuan will happily eat from Luo Binghe’s own chopsticks, even during meals taken in the main dining hall.

Despite all his aired grievances, Shen Yuan himself breaks countless social boundaries a day without even blinking. He truly thinks nothing of it, believing these gifts he presses into Luo Binghe’s heart to be nothing but normal for a couple. Normal! As if Luo Binghe has not heard tavern songs about the Demon Emperor’s shameless new male wife, spun by every servant and enemy alike that has visited the palace and been struck to flustered embarrassment at the way Shen Yuan acts!

Luo Binghe wants to roll Shen Yuan up in one hand and eat him. He dared to say as much to Shen Yuan, once; Shen Yuan had merely rolled his eyes and told him that he wasn’t into “vore.”

(Luo Binghe had made a note to research this “vore” when they next returned to Shen Yuan’s world. He’s learned that he can coax Shen Yuan into a great many number of things, if he does it slowly and lovingly enough. The delay will give Luo Binghe time to figure out a way to both take Shen Yuan’s flesh and blood into his own without then being left without a Shen Yuan to hold in his arms.)

Certainly, some part of Luo Binghe knows this quirk in Shen Yuan’s behavior to be a byproduct of the world Luo Binghe had stolen him from. The standards for modesty are warped in that place, and Shen Yuan had been gently raised by the hand of that world to not notice anything odd about it. 

A god is no less sacred for having come from the heavens where more gods reside, though. Nor does a man feel faith to any of those supposed unseen gods when one presently sits in their lap, free to worship with prayer and touch alike. None of the other people of Shen Yuan’s world had offered Luo Binghe something so precious as the free flowing love that Shen Yuan shows him. None of them had been so foolish, and so sweet, and so carelessly thoughtful despite a cute mean streak hidden within, and -

“Bing-ge,” Shen Yuan calls, and Luo Binghe bites at Shen Yuan’s neck to prove he’s listening. Shen Yuan sighs. “Bing-ge, you aren’t listening to a word I say.”

“I am,” Luo Binghe says, “I just bit you to prove it.”

“Wha - how does that prove - oh, you’re hopeless!” Shen Yuan cries, squirming again, this time with a stronger intention.

Displeased, Luo Binghe casts aside the fan he’d been using to cool Shen Yuan, moving instead to curl both arms around Shen Yuan’s middle. When Shen Yuan keeps squirming, he trails one hand down to rub at Shen Yuan’s thigh, listening for Shen Yuan’s indignant protests. Luo Binghe may have grown drunk on the simple act of holding Shen Yuan without the need for it to be sexually pleasurable, but he isn’t above using sex to keep Shen Yuan close if he must. He refuses to give up even a millimeter of contact with this precious person unless there is no other option. 

“You’re insufferable,” Shen Yuan complains, slapping at Luo Binghe’s creeping hand several times. “We’ll miss the migration we came all this way to see if you keep this up!”

“I’ll miss Yuan-er’s closeness the most,” Luo Binghe says gravely, and Shen Yuan snorts.

“Insufferable,” he repeats, and then gives his most put-upon sigh. “Can’t you just settle for holding my hand for at least until the birds leave?”

Happily, Luo Binghe stops feeling Shen Yuan up and intertwines their hands instead. Shen Yuan praises him for his patience, as if the simple feeling of their palms pressed together isn’t more pleasurable than the greatest heights of ecstasy found in any bed. 

One day, Luo Binghe will confess this to Shen Yuan: that he’s truly deviated far too much from the erotic character Shen Yuan had read all about in that other world. That somehow, when it’s Shen Yuan, Luo Binghe feels so overwhelmed with simple affection that his greatest desires are as chaste as a young boy’s. Oh, he still enjoys the sex, but -

But ah, what he really loves most is this.

[amiinkles]

The girls are fightinggg

If I drew anything wrong no I didn’t.

[cheecats]

In light of how grossly disrespectful and dismissive some (not all) DC voters have been, here is something for a lovely lady who deserved better. [X]

[earthtooz]

warning for tooth-rotting fluff, minimal hurt/comfort, bakugou is clingy asf, i don't really like this but i had an idea... and tried to execute it... hope u enjoy regardless ! gn!reader

when bakugou katsuki embraces you, he is overwhelming, in all definitions of the word.

he is physically too much, with well-defined muscles that he uses to drape all over you; he floods every sense of yours and overwhelms you to the point that all you know is him him him for a few seconds.

you feel his scarily bulky arms circling around your body, you hear his breathing, his laughter, his voice in your ears, you smell the burnt caramel that follows him everywhere, and you see nothing but bakugou, who shields you from the outside world when he embraces you. you sink into him all the same, welcoming him in all of his overwhelming glory.

he could be standing behind you, his towering frame imposing and terrifying as his arm is wrapped around your shoulders.

you're trying to listen to your friend, really, you are, but all you know is bakugou bakugou bakugou because you feel his breath tickling your neck. you feel him tugging you closer to his frame, protective to his core as you try your best to act completely nonchalant about this.

it could be your monthly movie night with mina, kaminari, sero, and kirishima, and bakugou is all over you. as you're sat between his legs, he's resting his chin on your shoulder, arms circled around your waist as you feed him popcorn here and there.

he could be at his lowest, needing the safety that only your presence can provide, collapsing into you in an act of vulnerability and openness. even so, he overwhelms you. spread atop you with his limbs curled by your sides, he bends himself into you, breathing you in like fresh oxygen that circulates the tension from the day out.

it could be breakfast time. you're awake earlier than your temperamental boyfriend but twenty minutes into preparing the meal, you feel a pair of arms latch onto you and a warm body pressed against your back. it makes you sink into him, and the day becomes harder to start.

bakugou katsuki's embrace is overwhelming most when he's clinging to you, desperately encasing you in his arms as a method of keeping you with him. he's said some fucked-up things, derived from his fucked-up internal dilemmas which has manifested in your relationship, and now he's fucked-up big time when he watches the way your shoulders slump and back turn to him. you mutter that you're staying at your friend's for the night and he's by your side in the blink of an eye.

he holds you with an ulterior motive of trying to mould you into him, desperate to keep you where you are safe. the blond pleads for you to 'stay' with a cracked voice and heartache at the prospect of you leaving. he doesn't know if you'll return.

and if you don't, bakugou katsuki might not know what to do with himself.

when he embraces you, he is overwhelming because it is his way of saying 'please don't leave me'. you feel his arms and his pain, you hear his pleads and his sniffles, you smell the lingering scent of burnt caramel that you've come to adore so much.

you sense the love he pours upon you and so, with a deep inhale, you turn around in his arms and bakugou's shaking. he's shaking when he loosens his grasp for a moment before tightening it again.

tears stream down his cheeks and onto your hands as you hold his face. he visibly softens, eyelids drooping but never closing as to make sure you were still in front of him, comprehending only you, you, you.

"i'm sorry," he mutters. it's raw, genuine, but not enough.

you don't seem to think that way. "it's okay, katsuki. would you like some space?"

he shakes his head; slightly knotted hair moving with his frantic actions. "no, please, not from you."

"do you want to talk about it?"

it's less overwhelming now. whilst your tears dry and so does his, you talk. not only about what's bothering bakugou, but moreso about anything and everything. errands you needed to run tomorrow, the weird fan interaction he had today, and when you should watch the latest episode of the anime you're watching together.

he keeps a hand on you the whole time: tugging at your shirt, playing with your fingers, massaging the space in between your furrowed eyebrows to stop your forehead from creasing.

the pro-hero is reassured by knowing you're here, and that you're not leaving any time soon.

when it's bedtime, bakugou katsuki does not stop himself from reaching out for you, pulling you closer to him until there is hardly any space in between. then, he lays half his body weight over yours and the 'oof' you let out is unplanned, but not unwelcome because it causes you to laugh right after. he sinks a little more into you.

basking in the moonlight and the sound of your laughter, bakugou katsuki is content to embrace you.

in exchange for shamelessly taking his heart, bakugou believes it is only fair that he overwhelms you with affection and adoration.

[blackkatdraws2]

[The Amazing Digital Circus]

Not ship art! Their complimentary color palette makes me happy seeing them together!!

[rosalinesurvived]

Fukuzawa's so fucking funny to me i cant even. He's insane. Raised up in a state sanctioned military school. Raised to master several martial arts styles and taught to master a sword since he was a kid. Didn’t go to war because he hated the army hierarchy. Stopped being a government’s catspaw because he realised liked killing people too much and Thats A Bit Fucked Up. Mind you, not that he was killing people, that he liked it. He can get so angry that people stop their cars on the road mid-movement on the road in horror at his rage. He's a freak magnet. He meets Ranpo and thinks of 50 different ways of killing him. His act of helping a 14 year old with no job, no home and no parents is to offer him assistance as a bodyguard. Free for once. He's insane. He then builds up an entire agency of gifted people and gets into several wars to assist this kid. He killed the Minister of Justice’s father. This is never addressed beyond the guy framing the Agency for mass murder (including his own). He likes cats. His main shipping partners are the maybe-pedophile main villan of the thing they're directly enemies with and also his also-main enemy ex-bff military dude with a time travelling stabby stick who kills his not-grandkids. His childhood friend of thirteen years started to hate him because Fukuzawa refused to fight a full on fucking military war with him. After refusing to fight a war he decided to skip a step and just become an assassin. He thinks you should’nt critisice other people’s food choices. He steals all of his other ex-husband’s kids in their divorce battles. He wears a haori, yukata, tabi and zori plus is a trained swordsman in modern day japan. His afformentioned ex-bff wants to make him into the leader of the world because he thinks Fukuzawa’s an uncorruptable person. Fukuzawa liked murdering people.

[stop-breaking-my-heart-telltale]

What can I say? They're my favorite.

[beskarfrog]

he convinced him to get in

[glittergoats]

Deeply unserious epilogue, thank you Gamefreak