It’s actually a lump of lava with a thin crust. Any time the crust breaks we have a very bad time.

I enjoy Marcus Aurelius paraphrasing Epctetus…

“You are a little soul bearing about a corpse.”

Be fair. You are an abstraction layer; a subsystem running on that electrified hunk of fat. There’s plenty of stuff that evolution has delegated as non-conscious functions of the fatlump.

So you’re saying humanity is a mecha space opera?

It’s weird that we, as people, think that our being or self ends at our skin. And we’re just a consciousness controlling a meat cube.

What about all the bacteria living on and inside of us? People would die without their microflora.

What about our subconscious/unconscious doings/thoughts? Are we in control of them? Or are they in control of us? Could consciousness be an illusion? One created by our senses’ interpretation of external stimuli.

And I want off.

“At thе end of the day, your brain is just a meat computеr in a bone cockpit piloting a skin robot You think the world makes sense? Nothing makes sense! So you might as well make nonsense!”