clustered pigeons blend into the awning; then, a loud crack
Pre-Flock Explosion [Haiku]
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Anarchy evokes chicken body bumper cars. Constant movement that is not only undirected, but also: fast, violent, random, chaotic, and doomed to be short-lived. Anarchy seems like space in which many participants would soon be on their backs -- legs churning in spastic bursts, ineffectually. Like toppled robots or cockroaches that waded through gassy trenches. Limbs moving, as if confident that they can right the ship and recover the upright. But everyone watching knows they can't -- that the laws of physics won't support it, that it's just wasted motion. They might as well be in night terrors, for being able to move ineffectually seems only moderately less terrifying than not being able to move at all -- when faced with a situation from which one wants badly to get away. But, maybe, I've got it all wrong. Maybe that's not Anarchy at all.
What's a Self? ...a soul? ...a set of neuronal activity? ...an illusion? ...a ghost in a machine? ...the body, the brain, & the whole enchilada? Memories can be false, and some always are. Thoughts can be illusory, and some always are. Feelings can be flighty & fickle, and some always are. If one loses a little toe, is one a diminished self, or still whole? What about if one loses a pinky toe-sized mass of brain? So many possibilities: ...death, ...changed personality, ...emotionlessness, ...speech pathologies, ...blindness, ...memory loss, ...coma, ...no discernable change, and so on. What's a Self? ...a dog? ...an embryo? ...an AI? ...an extraterrestrial? What is a self? Am I a self?
Thor, Volume 1: The Goddess of Thunder by Jason Aaron