I was talking to some friends about solipsism, for some reason. I'm not exactly sure why, but it was borne out of an experience of walking streets on a Sunday night. Fairly quiet streets, located in Newlands, which for those who don't know is a leafy, quiet suburban zone in the Southern Suburbs.
It came from thinking about the concept of objective reality. A concept I've never quiet bought, actually. I've previously argued that perception = reality. Now i further that with the sound realisation that there is no objective reality, at all. For there cannot be, in this case. From whence are we to form reality, if not objective? I propound that we are being experienced by a single organism (a singular conscoiousness), experiments, as it were, and that by achieving progress we are facilitating evolution, which is our purpose, we subjectively define its reality. This is our gift, to define 'reality' by experiencing it SUBJECTIVELY. Our weakness is that we can lose control of our abilities to warp it by failing to cope with demands of life, or supporting the energy required to power a simulation of this sort. Our consciousness is its energy source. To enjoy consciousness, to reach nirvana, as it were (or your cultural equivalent, mine of which is hedonism in anarchy) would be giving surplus power and allowing the simulacrum to flourish. The suffering in the world is draining it. Therefore, as a team of subjective entities, we must use our shared consciousness (communication) in order to allow said simulacrum to flourish.
Bascially, counsciousness is one fucking science experiment.
Now go watch a film based on a story written by Phillip K. Dick. Go on, pick any one.
P.S. Thanks to my friend Monkey, with whom I have had many philosophical discussions while on missions ambulating the Southern Suburbs or the upper levels, that I could develop such interesting cognitions and able me to make sense of two rather new, good friends with whom I have recently been engaging.
Yes, I'm a fucking pedant.