Mind-boggling

"The Phrenologist" by A.S. Hartwick (1895)

 
Imagine if life were all Mind--including dead souls. Trump who seems so real would be that headache above your consciousness's left eye that never seems to go away. Isn't that a benign way to look at this extended reality show? Unfulfilled pleasure and hope would manifest as a free-floating hunger, the rushing water of an impressionistic Debussy piece, filling the ether of one's pre-frontal cortex. This condition might provide fodder for eugenicists, enamored as they are by phrenological speculation. It may sound like a stretch, but just consider the whole world and even the galaxy in which it resides, the Milky Way as part of the brain. That would not only explain dark energy and matter, but the delusive everlastingness one experiences, up until "The Age of Finitude."  When someone said they were depressed and you responded casually "it's in your own head," you would be right.

read the Kirkus review of The Kafka Studies Department

and listen to "Putting the Damage On" by Tori Amos