Toons Gone Feral

For more on the Vonnegut angle see Eric Spitznagel’s blog.

You can meditate on your asshole, though I didn’t know that’s what I was doing at the time.

I was walking across campus and my asshole started itching like crazy.  But for some reason, the Great Chain of Being had broken down, and it is that very Chain that ordains that an itch must be scratched.  Instead, I got interested in it.  “What is an itch?”  I questioned it closely.  I wasn’t after the biology — what is the irritant, is there something special about itch nerve cells, what does this activate in the brain — I was interested in the experience.  What is the experience?  How well located is it? It’s located in my mind (wherever that is!) and I could easily guide my finger to it, but experientially, I don’t think it’s located in such high definition.  It’s aversive.  Is it hot?  sharp?  pointy? jagged?  What it is this thing?  I suppose the sheer irritation of it, when diverted from action to thought gives the thought itself the quality of urgency.

And then I got it.  Or you could say I copped out.  I was able to name it: “Sensation”.

This gave me mental resolution.  In the scheme of academic philosophy, it’s hardly a new idea.  But I felt my mind had taken a new stance.

Angie: Did you finally scratch it?

Rev: I don’t remember.