Photo by Ochir-Erdene Oyunmedeg on Unsplash
Robert Anton Wilson asked, "Who is the master who makes the grass green?" He explained, "Our brain receives millions of signals. We select a small portion and call it reality. That's what a Reality Tunnel is!"
I am reading an old book-length poem, On the Nature of Things by the Roman poet Lucretius, and I ran across a passage that makes the same point:
"Since images are tenuous, the mind cannot see them distinctly, other than the ones it makes an effort to perceive, and thus, except for these, they all perish, apart from those for which the mind itself has been organized by its own efforts. The mind, then, makes itself ready, hoping things will take place so that it can perceive what follows on from each particular thing."
(From Book Four; I am quoting the Ian Johnston translation. I read a lot of books about Epicureanism).
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