Consciousness itself is an infinite regress. This explains coincidences.

Bob Dylan seems to me a totally pernicious influence - the nasal whine of death and masochism. Certainly, this would be a more cheerful world if there were no Dylan records in it. But Dylan and his audience mirror each other, and deserve each other; as Marx said, a morbid society creates its own morbid grave-diggers.

Obviously, the faster we process information, the more rich and complex our models or glosses - our reality-tunnels - will become.

The novels that get praised in the NY Review of Books aren't worth reading. Ninety-seven percent of science fiction is adolescent rubbish, but good science fiction is the best and only literature of our times.

We have been told over and over that "you can't change human nature", but the study of emic realities shows quite the contrary, that almost anything can become "human nature" if society defines it as such.

Having a spine is overrated. If everybody squealed and ran away, there'd be no more wars.

Human society as a whole is a vast brainwashing machine whose semantic rules and sex roles create a social robot.