"It turns out, as obviousness would have it, that our brains (especially those of Stan Lee and Jack Kirby in this case) have been teaching us neurology through comic books and the movies that have come from them."
Full article linked to from my profile, click "abraham" below, awesome!!
Joys born of vice should never be held in equivalency with joys born of true virtue or else we create a cerebral short-circuit and confusion reigns; thus the word 'happiness' should belong only to that uplift born of loving goodness.
"Aha!" said the Prime Monister, "we will have the poor scrap with the destitute for scraps! We can't lose!"
As they laughed at the idea of evil spirits, they were easy pickings to influence into foul deeds; happy halloween indeed.
"Adjective and noun associations are worthy of our consideration because by careful linkage of words such as 'black' with strong emotionally positive words (such as in 'black heavens' and 'noble black night') we can start to program subconscious bias from the brain by creating a background neurochemistry that is more positive. This keeps the prefrontal cortex more fully operational and encourages more empathy in both thoughts and behaviours. Thus society develops better through their own choices and evolves. This is part of social evolution and this kind of awareness in writers is essential."
"When we make daily choices that are emotionally indifferent, the sort that the money-nexus makes faux-virtues of, we build our capacity for emotional indifference at the direct expense of our capacity for empathy, and thus the conflict between money and love is laid bare."
"For writers in the next half century and beyond, a comprehension of how creative writing, neurology, biology and our environment interact will be essential for a successful career."
- a link to the full article is in my bio and on the Descriptionari "About" page.
Much love!!!
Angela Abraham (Daisy)
The holly tree had to be a good foot and half taller since her planting, spreading her roots wide in the earth. It was the early autumn and so her green berries had their first blush of red. After the poor start she had, the way she arrived in the garden bare rooted and parched, that she lived at all was miracle enough.
I wonder if the roof tiles miss the rain on these long summer days. I wonder if they miss making their together song. Or perhaps they await the tickle of bird feet and a hearth-warm breeze. Or maybe it is the variation that makes these seasons special.
In war let us keep a warm heart and a cool head, remembering always the humanity of the 'othered' or else lose our own.