(September 12, 2009 at 5:59 pm)Eilonnwy Wrote: Okay, this is getting into some philisophical BS, but bear with me, my thoughts may be sloppy but it occurred to me in the car ride home. This might turn out to be interesting, who knows.
I would assume many atheists here do not believe in a soul, therefore no dualistic brain. Essentially, everything that makes us us, our thoughts, personality, wants, desires, etc... It all exists in the brain. Expanding on that, we believe when we die that nothing happens. We're dead...it's just like it was before we were born, a whole lot of nothing.
Considering this, say if you were to have a bad accident and you lost all your memories and you personality changes from severe brain trauma, does that mean you, essentially the person you are now, is as good as dead? I mean your body is alive, genetically you're exactly the same, it's just your personality is different and memories are gone. Is the "old" you the equivalent of dead?
Obviously the scenario has the big if of whether or not you can regain your memories and personality after therapy, so for the sake of argument, let's say it's permanent. What's your answer?
I think I currently take the stance that what makes me me is dead, and essentially I have died even if my body still remains. My body may be still alive, but my sense of self is dead.
Thoughts?
Existence itself is but two things: Difference, and change as result of that difference. Every change that happens to a person changes the person... Essentially we are always changing.... we are always redefining ourselves.
This sort of redefining can range in how drastic it is... from adding a new window decoration to the car... to painting the car... to adding, removing, modifying, or changing a part of the car... to essentially redesigning the entire car.
The body is this vehicle... and if I had word on this laptop: I would retype my 'The Identity' I think I'll do that sometime... It was a rather interesting paper
Please give me a home where cloud buffalo roam
Where the dear and the strangers can play
Where sometimes is heard a discouraging word
But the skies are not stormy all day