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the machinations of gilbert ryle (nozick loses) - lungs lyrics

aren’t we already plugged in?
or that is to say we are the contraption itself,
contingent on the selves that lived before.
savanah-driven adaptations overlaid on ancient biology, nothing more.
spilling out to trace the distant sh-r-s.
the briefest knee-jerk twitch,
the anatomy of grief that fills your skin –
perfected rules-of-thumb programmed in.
in patterns and cascades, digitally-made.
our bodies, shutting down as we speak,
sculpted by the culling of the weak.
aren’t we behaving plastically,
but in just the way spec’ed by our r&d?
bilateral symmetry
tugs our limbs to march to universal beats.
and if we were brains in vats,
i fail to see us being any more empty
or constrained by contingencies.
the heat of jealousy,
soldered in by reproductive economy;
a sense of beauty,
selected for by ancestral attentional needs;
the briefest knee-jerk twitch,
the anatomy of grief that fills your skin –
ad hoc jury-rigs hard-wired in.

- lungs lyrics

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