I’ve long been fascinated by the idea that what we naively perceive as “reality” simply can’t be what’s actually there.

The most interesting experiences exploit time and the maximal speed of electricity to show that e.g. given a stimulus, that stimulus’ signal could not travel up the nerves, to the brain, trigger a response, direct a response signal, trigger a muscular contraction on the time scales we observe. My dear, late professor Solomon once suggested that if a looming T. Rex-like shape were to suddenly darken the wide gallery windows atop Waggener hall, we would run for the exit without having much conscious appreciation of what we were running from.

So somehow, we are either beating the hard speed limit of information communication in our bodies or something more subtle and strange is happening. Books such as The Experience Machine suggest that our brains are designed to help us maintain our erroneous belief that we are in control of our responses – even when it’s manifestly impossible for that to have been so. If our brains burning calories to maintain that façade seems strange, remember that our bodies have only one goal: preservation and offspring. What if the veridical apprehension of reality is not helpful, or even harmful, against surmounting selective pressures (see: The Case Against Reality, or Consciousness)? Suddenly veridical apprehension of reality might not be so very important after all. Perhaps the better strategy would be lower-fi (non-veridical) but generally accurate-ish predictions?

Clark presents a lighter and more pop approach to this question about the disconnect between veridical apprehension and prediction in this enjoyable read.

While Goth occasionally has turned into a parody of itself (“Renfield” from “The IT Crowd” come to mind), there’s no doubt that its sounds, its majesty, its occasional self-serious lumbering pomposity have turned it into some sort of long-running youth movement. By rights, this should have petered out nearly 50 years ago if it were just a fad. I’ve long wondered, why does this black helium balloon never quite seem to deflate or pop?

I approached the book with two questions:

1. How does Goth, a movement originating around 1975-1980 relate to the Gothic literature/arts of the 19^th century?
2. What were some of my favorite Goth acts like back in the day?

Tolhurst obliges answers in this book.