I like both approaches! The first, for the optimism and thrill of speculation, the second for a more pragmatic approach to daily existence.

Seems like there's a neural correlate for all mental events, but this was meant as a 'what if?' Just a bit of fun really

Lol! My wife doesn't let me play anything that heavy haha!

I just can't stand the optimistic messages on his tea towels when he hangs out the washing. And he plays his hymns too loud.

most are kind of cool about it

@Πετροκότσυφας
Really? Religion/faith doesn't cause too many problems then?

Could it rephrased as a negation as per Korzybski? I'm thinking rather than the paradox of knowing/not knowing which seems like a semantic muddle, isn't the gist of the thought something like 'what I have is not knowledge'? As the semanticists say, what I say something is, is not. So I can't say 'this is knowledge' but I can meaningfully say it is not knowledge.

I have no problem entertaining it. I enjoy entertaing all sorts of weird and wonderful ideas. But i dont choose to halt my thinking and claim to absolitely believe any of them. My point is about those who do entertain such ideas to the point of claiming to believe them. The situation I described could - would - be used by certain people as proof of their belief system and therefore justification by extension of everything else connected to that belief system. I understand the philosophical approach you are taking (It's how I like to do things) but in the case I describe it would largely be those without a philosophical approach (the blindly devout, the religious people who were raised in their faith and never learned to question, m etc) who would run with the information and make waves for better or worse.
If such a 'proof' came to light (ok, not absolute proof of everything but, say, unquestionable evidence that a dead person was still around as some sort of ghost or something) you and I and the others in this forum would not go crazy and leap to conclusions, but there would be millions or billions who would. They are the ones who would have the greatest impact on the future of the world......

To elaborate further: religion obviously plays a huge part in shaping our world. Millions have died for religion, whole cultures are shaped by its premises. Proof of an afterlife would for many be 'proof'' of some of their religion's key teachings (imagine the potential aftermath of zealotry which would follow!) But actually, it would be no proof at all (or very insignificant)

Either you will die, or not. The implications either way are profound. Death is obviously one of the biggest issues in all cultures and our understanding of it affects our understanding of life itself.
It seems too easy for some religious people to just choose to claim to believe in 'eternal salvation' or at least an eventual chance to reunite with lost loved ones etc. as if it solves the problem of loss, grief, despair etc. I'm suggesting (more as a fun thought experiment than anything we're likely to make serious progress on!) that to discover with certainty that the end of this physical life does not mean the end of our consciousness may not actually justify any ideas those who believe in a soul may have. That they would still be in the same philosophical boat as those who reject the idea of a continuation after physical death.

Thanks AWATiff, good to be here

Hi,
Thanks for your thoughts, it is great to get someone else's take on these ideas! It is long, sorry about that. I'm new to this forum (first forum ever actually!) and just thought I'd stick the wholexessay on there to see if I got any feedback. I wrote it about a year ago, put a lot of effort in but never actually showed it to anyone.
I then sent it to a philosophy expert I found online on the off chance that he would read it and comment, which he did! He was in general agreement with my themes but did point out reasons why it would/should be criticised. He understandably couldn't give a comprehensive breakdown but suggested I put it in a forum like this (Or some of it) to see what responses I got.
Thanks again for taking the time to read and respond

ff0, I like your brain! Thanks to everyone who has contributed to this thread so far. I joined this forum a couple of days ago expecting to get no responses, so this has been interesting and enjoyable.
I feel that some haven't taken on board my original point fully (Perhaps I didn't express it very well). I totally get what you guys/girls are saying, but I must stress that the 'point' to philosophy that some of you have argued in favour of is something I generally agree with. So many spheres of life are fortified by an appreciation of philosophical ideas, so many situations dealt with more pragmatically and wholeheartedly. For so many years I have been fascinated by philosophical approaches to all manner of questions and on the whole this has enriched my intellectual life, provoked long and meaningful conversation with friends and helped me to tackle the trials and tribulations of everyday existence.
My question, I suppose, was more to do with where we find ourselves when the philosophy runs out. When our philosophy takes us around the houses, examining (maybe even acepting) everything from all sides, adopting contrasting or contradictory points of view, all the while appreciating how our outlook has been enriched by the journey...but...eventually...when we return to 'normality' and discover that nothing has really changed - then what?
I imagine I will always think philosophically and I am very grateful that there are others out there who have similar attitudes. But there are times when it all seems like intellectual posturing. Or distraction. Or very clever ways of explaining why we don't know or can't agree on certain things. Or finding comfort in ideas that turn us on despite knowing that other equally/more intelligent people hold opposing views.
When the biggest questions are asked (Ok, 'big' is a relative term but I'm sure you all know what I mean) and no definitive answer is forthcoming...where next? Faith? Despair? Seems a shame to throw away a life time of philosophical thought for either of those.
I must stress I don't get to this state often, yet it does happen periodically and I must accept my feelings during these times. Can it be written of as merely a hormonal imbalance or something similar? At the time, as bleak as it may sound, there is a striking sense of intlectual and philosophical clarity.
Of course, eventually it passes and the wheel keeps spinning.

Thank you for your thoughts. It's a funny old world!

Thanks for your thoughts. I agree with you. I guess I was trying to express a kind of frustration, a sense that - occasionally - I find myself haunted by the possible pointlessness of existence. Very often I am intrigued and excited by many ideas, but now and then - after much reading, discussion and deep thought - I feel as though I am no further forward than before. Sure, I have a much better appreciation of the problems, but no concrete answers.
Maybe there are none. Perhaps it's the way philosophy is often phrased as a question - it suggests that maybe there are definite answers to be had. Without these answers, or the genuine possibility of one day finding them, we are left with the word games you mentioned.
Most of the time I find philosophy helpful and spiritually uplifting as you suggested. I guess I'm asking where you turn on the occasions when even philosophy feels empty!

Part 2

Philosophical Despair

The idea of consciousness-as-revelation does not in itself provide an escape from the philosophical despair which may be encountered by prolonged contemplation on the potentially deterministic nature of the mind. Getting to grips with the revelatory nature of consciousness can throw up further difficulties as one encounters the possibility that consciousness is essentially a spontaneous phenomenon and therefore impossible to reconcile with the idea that conscious states, including all thoughts and feelings, somehow exist separate from, possessed by and occurring for a distinct ‘I’. To acknowledge the identity of conscious states with the ‘I’ and their revelatory nature is to reject the validity of the intuitive sense of conscious freedom. Philosophical despair may then arise due to fixation on the idea that the ‘I’ is ‘merely’ an epiphenomenon, an impotent quirk of blind, causal physical processes, and that the absence of conscious freedom removes all possibility of genuine identity, morality or responsibility. I will address these two aspects of the problem individually.

Firstly, the despair arising from the idea of consciousness as ‘merely’ an epiphenomenon. It can be distressing to consider that the mind, being a product of physical and biological processes, cannot in itself have an effect on anything. All thoughts, choices, reactions etc. are produced by these processes; the mind simply occurs as an epiphenomenon, a quirk of the neurological activity - passive, utterly impotent, irrelevant. There would be no effect whatsoever if the epiphenomenon ceased to be (apart from the disappearance of the subjective experience which, no longer existing, could not experience its own absence). The point here is that, epiphenomenon or not, it does exist. ‘I’ am my consciousness: ‘I’ exist. The particular, complex interactions of the various systems and processes comprising my nervous system and supporting tissues somehow produces the emergent (epi)phenomenon of my consciousness. The supposed existence of a neural correlate for every conscious state may be used to argue for the ‘merely’ epiphenomenal nature of consciousness, but this is to ignore another implication: that a change in one sphere (conscious or neurological) is impossible without a corresponding change in the other. Both are part of the same larger system. Worrying that consciousness is determined by neurology is like worrying that the inside curve of a circle is determined by the outer. Yes, the former cannot exist without the latter; but neither can the latter exist without also manifesting the former. To concede that consciousness is part of a greater system extending beyond its own limits and upon which it is dependent is not to invalidate the conscious experience itself. It is simply to acknowledge that consciousness is not autonomous. Stubbornly clinging to the alternative amounts to a form of ‘consciousness chauvinism’, in which case the question remains: how could an idealistic consciousness manipulate the physical world without somehow also being affected by it?
Epiphenomenalism does not require a rejection of qualities previously attributed to consciousness, but a reallocation of them throughout the broader system of which consciousness is a part. So the functions of the mind seem to be coordinated by the physical brain rather than originating from some non-physical, independent consciousness? Very well. The brain is but one aspect of the greater system, an extended ‘self’. In recognising this I do not detract from the conscious experience but, rather, improve its credibility by identifying potential targets for explaining its revelatory character.

Secondly, the apparent impossibility of real choice, responsibility and morality for consciousness produced by causal physical processes. This may be addressed by distinguishing between local causality and absolute causality. A local system (e.g. a group or individual in a particular situation) is a product of causal processes and is therefore to some extent able to be modelled and have it's future states predicted. The simpler the system, the better it can be modelled and the greater the confidence in the predictions made. With increasing complexity systems become much harder to model, such that uncertainty about their future states increases dramatically with each additional variable. Models of complex systems can have some predictive value but the greater the complexity the more general these predictions become, referring to statistical likelihoods rather than specific, localised events. Predictive accuracy inevitably declines the further into the future the model is projected until, at some point (years, hours, milliseconds later) the predictions are no better than pure guesswork. Even if it was possible to model a system perfectly (every future state predicted with complete confidence) it would still be at the mercy of external influences. The model is only as good as the information it contains; no model can contain all information; variables unaccounted for by the model that influence the system will introduce uncertainty, bringing about unforeseeable changes which, however slight, will drive the drift of the real state away from the modelled state - just ask a weather forecaster.
A system as complex as the human body - including brain activity - is impossible to model beyond a very generalised level. Throw the body into a real world where it can interact with other people and the environment and the variables skyrocket. Everyday existence is the result of a staggering number of interactions at every scale, from the subatomic through the molecular and into the macroscopic, with system upon system affecting and being affected by each other via chemical, physical, biological, environmental and psychological processes, absolutely unfathomable in its chaotic complexity. Even if the whole is deterministic, it does not mean that any part of it is determinable. It would take a truly godlike intelligence to comprehend all variables such that all future states could be known in advance; anything short of this leaves any conscious entity in a position of relative uncertainty, unable to know for sure what the future will bring, with a decreasing level of confidence in any best guesses the further from the present they are projected.
The key point is this: determinism does not preclude evolution. In fact, natural selection by survival of the fittest and determinism seem to go hand in hand. Whether ‘fittest’ refers to physical attributes of an organism or the state of an inanimate object, whatever survives - whatever form or function persists where others dissipate or die - these are the realities that go on to influence the world around them. Blind evolutionary processes have shaped humans into creatures capable of discriminatory, goal oriented behaviour. While any given event could be argued to ultimately be the result of deterministic processes, the certain foreknowledge of such an event could only be held by an intelligence vastly more informed than any involved in the causal network of which it is a product. Such an intelligence would need to comprehend every aspect of every process - however far removed from the event - that could influence the outcome in any way. Lacking any evidence of such a hypothetical godlike entity we are left with the everyday reality of conscious beings existing as discrete organisms with imperfect knowledge of themselves and the world around them, for whom events - including the outcomes of their own decision-making processes - cannot be known in advance. The world may be deterministic but it is not determinable. Knowing beings, although they may inhabit an absolutely causal universe, can only model, predict, assume, intuit etc. with any success up to a point, according to their understanding of local causality. For the experiencing consciousness, situations are encountered and decisions made in local terms (i.e. there remains a hypothetical threshold beyond which the existence of specific future decisions cannot be anticipated, let alone decided in advance). Even if the reality is deterministic, the experience of consciousness-as-revelation is one in which changing situations are encountered, assessed and acted upon with relative freedom and with (potentially) anti-entropic behaviour. Short of possessing truly godlike powers of omnipotence, we are all in the same boat; we think, we act, we consider our choices to be successes or failures based on the results they bring. If all this occurs with absolute deterministic inevitability, it is far beyond our ken to truly comprehend the situation as such.
That is as may be. Nevertheless, it may be argued that all efforts to get around the problem of determinism are futile and self-delusional - if the whole is absolutely deterministic, all experiences of freedom and choice are illusory, however convincing they may seem. This idea can have a significant impact on an individual's state of mind, drawing the thinker into an existential crisis and inducing profound feelings of philosophical despair, depression, hopelessness, worthlessness etc. To experience such a state can feel like having passed a point of no return. Prior to grasping the idea I was ignorant of its ramifications and could not be affected by it; having crossed that intellectual threshold, however, it can seem that the only escape from the sense of universal meaninglessness would be by a return to ignorance - less of an escape than a denial. The situation can become rather desperate.
However, unless I am rendered completely catatonic by these thoughts I will eventually carry on with my life (even if in a distracted or depressed state). I will move and think as before, with my actions and thoughts characterised by the familiar sense of ownership. Even my most introspective, powerful thoughts on the deterministic nature of my mind and body will feel like my thoughts. Like it or not, I am consciousness-as-revelation, with all the sense of intentionality that entails. Any attempt I make to escape this reality will be as successful as trying to outrun my shadow. I cannot escape my consciousness-as-revelation; I am my consciousness-as-revelation.
To choose; to decide; to conclude; these events all represent the halting of a mental process, the arrival at an endpoint determined by the thinker. The choice, the decision, the conclusion are characterised by the familiar sense of ownership common to consciousness-as-revelation. For an individual to arrive at the conclusion that consciousness is deterministic and that therefore freedom and choice are illusions is to choose to reject the existence of choice. It is not surprising that holding such a contradictory view about oneself should cause some distress. This is not to say that the conclusion is wrong, but that it is simply not a valid perspective for a conscious being. The experience of choice is part and parcel of consciousness-as-revelation. To experience – to be – consciousness-as-revelation is to experience the sense of ownership of conscious states as they develop according to changing circumstances; the sense of ownership is the basis of the ‘I’, the phenomenon of subjectivity by means of which all experience is possible. Any mental event involving discrimination, however deterministic in absolute terms, is therefore experienced as an aspect of the self, the ‘I’; it is intended. The occurrence of any thought to the exclusion of all others, especially when specific alternatives are apprehended, can only be experienced as a choice, even if in absolute terms it is inevitable.
Denying the experience of choice amounts to a denial of the ‘I’, or a denial of consciousness. Subjectively, this is a philosophical impasse; I can deconstruct myself no further – if ‘I’ am not conscious, ‘I’ am nothing. To escape from my despair I must choose to accept the reality of my experience of choice; the alternative can only lead to an unfulfilling process of circular reasoning. If my goal is genuinely to escape from my depression by philosophical means I must make this choice, thereby removing the cognitive block to my natural ways of thinking and being. The alternative, considered as an abstract concept, can be fascinating and informative but pragmatically it just doesn’t work.

Morality
Given the necessity of accepting my experience of choice I must also accept responsibility for the consequences of my choices. A choice is a specific event back to which subsequent causal effects can be traced (although these events are likely the consequences of myriad choices, of which mine plays a greater or lesser role). A different choice may have produced different effects; therefore my choice is at least partially responsible for the resulting reality.
I cannot deny my responsibility unless I also deny my experience of choice, which is not a viable option. I might make bad choices; I might make wrong choices; I may be misinformed or ignorant about the information on which I base my choices; however, I am still responsible for them. This responsibility provides a foundation for constructing a system of morality. I will not begin to suggest here how such a system should be constructed, apart from recommending that it should be done bearing in mind the limits of our understanding. Our knowledge is imperfect; ideas and beliefs should remain open to examination in the light of new information and be modified or replaced accordingly