Preparing for Algonquin

Ollie and I are having a challenge transitioning between time changes. We were up until after two last night. My brain has kind of shut down with fatigue so I took a short nap before lunch.

This morning I was reading an article on the information integration theory of consciousness in a philosophy magazine when Ollie crawled into bed and asked me to read it out loud. The theory affixes a quantifiable value, called phi, to the level of consciousness experienced by a system. A brain has a lot of phi and a blanket had considerably less, if any at all. The theory fits nicely into the panpsychic school of consciousness research which I've always been fond of although lately I'm more inclined to explore the middle ground between panpsychism and physicalism.

Ollie had lots of questions and made the connection between consciousness and previous discussions we've had about soul. I was impressed he lasted as long as he did as I read paragraph after paragraph of text steeped in jargon but I got the feeling he likes the rhythm of language and there is an appealing science fictional element to meta physics that kids can relate to.

Anyways, fatigue definitely lowers my phi and it wasn't until I made a turkey sandwich and ate some leftover Nana chili that I felt myself again. Ollie and I went to the beer store and Bulk Barn for camping supplies. We decided to stop at Value Village to look for board games in case it rains on our trip. I detoured into the book section looking for Madam Bovary and ended up with 5 other books.

More than anything books give me a sense of identity. More than clothing or a haircut. More than a car or a house. More than my garage. The books I surround myself with mirror who I am or more precisely, who I aspire to be. Jessica saw the books and moaned. She thinks I should get rid of some books as I collect new ones but we look at it differently. I think of books as monuments or landmarks, inukshuks signaling the direction I am traveling in my life. I follow one book that leads me to another on a kind of trail, not a linear one, towards some unknown destination. When I'm lost or need a clue I can revisit the records of like minded but far more accomplished travelers. And like a blind cartographer mapping the mountains and valleys of an invisible landscape I rely on the descriptions of others for a way forward. How could I not pass these treasure maps on to my two pirates in the event that they too one day would journey to unseen kingdoms within?

All packed up! Got warm clothes, a cooler of beer (I did the food last year), ukelele, a great American songbook, wooden bowls, metal plates and plastic cups. It's going to be a fine trip.Read more