My consciousness

I think I understand what my consciousness is.

But it’s 6.27am and I haven’t gone to sleep yet, so that’s probably why. I hope I remember in the morning when I wake up. In short, it evolved as an estimated model of how other animals/humans will behave. Thereby giving us an evolutionary advantage. The way we think we think has been helpful, but is not necessarily based the way we think. Especially considering it happens 0.2 seconds after we’ve thought.

Oh. P.S. I’ve painted all woodwork, doors and cupboards in Nursery. It’s full steam ahead with cot and curtains.

Caveman on Tony Blair

I listened to Tony today for half an hour while Caveboy threw his salad on the floor and I washed up. I haven’t caught up with any commentary yet, what with the Celebrity Big Brother Final and doing the second coat of Ivory Eggshell in the Nursery till 2.30am (beaten deadline by two whole days, NICE!)

It’s late and I’m tired. I’ll be briefer and more to the point.

Tony Blair thinks what has taken place since we invaded Iraq is not as bad as what might have happened if we hadn’t. Quite simply this is because he considers the lives of English and American people to be worth more than Iraqis and Afghans.

He thinks that the 4,308 coalition deaths (BBC), between 100,00 and 655,000 civilian deaths (Iraqi Health ministry or Lancet) will be worth it, if it stops another 3,000 Americans dying. NOT INCLUDING AFGHANISTAN!!!!!

He is insane!

An hour before midnight is worth two after.

I’m getting old. In the past, if something important/urgent/fun had to be done, I could stay up and do it: through past dawn to mid-next-night, if needs be. But in the last year, if I get less than 5 hours sleep, I’m useless the next day. I end up with a life threateningly short fuse, a complete inability to make decisions and an inability to fall asleep at the right time the next day.

Saturday night’s nursery decoration fiasco was a complete false economy. In the three days since then, all I’ve done is (go to work for two days, entertained Caveboy for one) sand off the lumpy dog’s dinner of a paint job I put on Saturday night.

The deputy head at school did an assembly on SMART objectives on Friday. I need to get SMART.

S pecific – I will have finished painting the nursery.

M easurable – How much I have painted.

A greed – I’m telling you. That’s not really going to work is it, if I’ve got no followers. I’ll tell Cavegirl.

R ealistic – Yes, it’s not the Sistine Chapel. It’s 2.5m by 3m.

T imed – By Sunday night, the end of January.

Calm the Monkey Mind, Cavey

I can’t capture my essence and espouse the truth about all the most important issues facing the world, this nation and me, in one go. I am still suffering internet attentional spotlight paralysis. In order to keep  get my muscles working again, i am going to limit myself to the simple diary format. Now.

Woke up at the beeps of nine thinking I’d had a massive lie-in. This would have been well deserved, as i didn’t stop prepping and painting the nursery until gone 5am. There is a desperate shortage of hours in the day at the moment. Cavegirl is a Chartered Accountant, doing 50% of her turnover at this time of year as well as a month off bringing mini-Cavegirl into the world; she is therefore, to all intents and purposes, maxed out. So Caveman is looking after her and mini-Caveman and doing everything else and drinking a lot of coffee.

The plan had been to get a white undercoat on the walls last night before filling and sanding, but I don’t know what was wrong with the paint. It was going on like cottage cheese. I probably should have stirred it. Instead i elected to stick the fan on to dry it quickly and rush a second coat. Disaster!. The second coat peeled bits of the first coat off in some places and stuck them down in others leaving the wall looking like an aerial shot of the ice caps melting.

I can’t tell if this Cave-persona thing is working. I want to be anonymous, but I’m not sure how. If you’re my first reader, please leave a comment and tell me what you think!

What do I think about?

The word Bright is a term used to describe those who live lives free of the supernatural and mystical.

I don’t like the term. They say they’re not arrogantly claiming to be cleverer than people who do believe in such things, but it doesn’t wash with me. Richard Dawkins described the term in a Guardian article as “a noun hijacked from an adjective, with its original meaning changed but not too much.” I admire what the Bright community are trying to do and consider myself to be part of it, but if you want to change someone’s mind you don’t start by saying “Listen! I’m clever. I’m not saying you’re stupid but…” Yes you are.

I do like the sentence. ‘…free of the supernatural and mystical.’ I believe that the intellectual capacity of the majority of people on this planet has been hobbled by religion and that there is a very real freedom to be gained by realising its untrue and unnecessary.

I believe in particles and energy interacting in a deterministic way, with one past and one future and no freewill. That’s it.

Thank you and goodnight.

Above all, I will not waste half an hour of my life staring at the screen instead of typing because I’m worried what people will think.

That was the last sentence of my previous post and of course what I then did was not publish anything on the blog for 10 days while I worried what people would think.

The problem is that I don’t have any clear idea of what the point of this is. Do I want to become famous for my witty blog or just keep an online diary. Do I want to be a spokesman for atheists on the web or preach to people about how they too can lead a fulfilling life without believing in freewill. I suppose it will just sort itself out. Terry Wogan says they either love you or hate you. you’ve just got to be yourself and let yourself find it’s voice. I think there’s a clue there to where I’m headed with this.

There is a significant part of me that does not have a line of communication with the outside world and this could be it. So I do want followers and I want to meet and follow others.

I don’t think I should try and make it funny; that would just be an extra hoop to jump through. I spend a lot of time thinking seriously about world issues: politics, philosophy, religion, that sort of thing and to be perfectly honest I can’t help thinking that if more people felt like me the world would be a better place. So there you go. A mission statement seems to be emerging.

My aim with this blog is to let anyone who’s interested, join the debates that go on inside my head and contribute. Let me know if I’m wrong, unclear, contradictory, incompatible, whatever.

Lets go…

Caveman turns into rabbit, and gets overwhelming urge to use the word ‘transmogrify.’

Well, three posts in to this blogging shenanigans and I feel the attentional spotlight of the world pan over and focus on me like Sauron.

“He doesn’t know what he’s doing!”

“He thinks people are interested in this load of old tripe.”

“He hasn’t got photos or followers.”

And so as my critics vanish in a puff of their own logic, I am left feeling I have to justify my intrusion onto the web. I don’t know if anyone will find any of this interesting. I’m going to try hard not to care, because if I do I’ll just stop and stare at a blank screen while I try and work out what ‘People on the internet’ will find funny.

No, I will not be a rabbit in the headlights, I will be myself. I will not worry that I don’t what I’m doing; I will learn and get better. I will put some photos on my blog when I’ve worked out how to and when I think it needs some. Above all, I will not waste half an hour of my life staring at the screen instead of typing because I’m worried what people will think.

Caveman struggles with modern technology

But nobody really wants to know about that. And anyway, I hardly struggled. My new lap top asked me if I wanted to download some software for free that would allow me to become a blogger and I thought, “Yes I do, but it sounds like it’ll be dreadfully complicated.” Not a bit of it. I reckon these computer things are getting easier to use all the time, I don’t know what everyone’s moaning about.

If I was a caveman, would I have fewer technological worries? At first the answer seems to be obviously yes, but have you been out in the garden trying to light a fire recently, using only caveman technology? I allowed myself one brand new  ‘Light My Fire’ Fire Stick, one scorched but dry tampon and anything I could find in my frozen garden that wasn’t man made.

One hour later I had half a burnt tampon, an alarmingly worn down ‘Light My Fire’ Fire Stick and some wet leaves. Bollocks, I forgot the bloody great Silver Birch tree in the middle. Birch bark, birch bark…

Late Christmas Present sparks Novice Blogger into Life

I got a Light My Fire - Fire Stick today from the Head of Science. I'm chuffed to bits. I can now light a fire without matches or a lighter. Conversely, for the first time in my life, I find myself having to carry around a tampon, because it makes excellent tinder. I'm going to have to come up with some way of keeping the tampon dry as well as disguised. Its all very well being able to cheer everyone up when they think they're going to die with a nice warm fire, but I don't fancy trying to explain why a soggy, scorched tampon has just fallen out of my pocket to my Year 7s at rugby practice on Thursday.

I wish I was a caveman. I genuinely cannot imagine a happier life.