3. Part II - An unreasonable leap.

Welcome back, to this, part two of this Thursday's blog (number three overall, and part four in the series).

It's time to break things down (apply to this phrase the meaning that best suits your current temperament).

Thinking quickly is not the same as thinking intelligently. Nor is it (despite my previous claims) entirely the same as having quick wits. Intelligence is, I suspect, the ability to think efficiently. Quick wits are intelligence coupled with speed. All I'm saying of myself is that I can apply what intelligence I do have at speed. I'm an inefficient thinker, but to be honest that's how I like it. Because, though I certainly think it is possible to be intelligent and creative, I do think creativity frequently rests in an appreciation of the juxtaposition of things that an intelligent person would simply and straightforwardly(sic) know don't go together. Given a choice between creativity and intelligence, I'd rather have both. But if I was absolutely forced to choose between them, I mean, really gun-against-the-temple forced, well, in that situation, I 'd still pick both. Which probably excludes me from the high intelligence category automatically (or, alternatively, inducts me into the one for bullheadedness).

My thinking is frequently abstract, occasionally disorganised. I sometimes suspect that I take such delight in words because they're akin to the ball-pit I never had as a child. A glorious, novel change of setting from the humdrum world of computer games and giant transforming robots.  Some adventure playground somewhere, dive in, dive in. Then home time. To my home. Which did not have a ball-pit. Something which remains true to this very day.

Thoughts rush by, vivid, invigorating, but much, much too fast to describe. If A, then B. A, therefore B...  Gawd, so slowwwww
Let me introduce the new improved design: A, meet Z.

These thoughts aren't a handicap, not at all. But communicating, when this is the way I naturally think? That's hard.
You: 'A, therefore B, I guess. What do you think?'

Me *thinks Z*  *tries hard to backtrack enough to remember why I'm thinking of Z*

You: *bored of waiting*   *Leaves*

Here's a challenge:

2+2=...

The challenge is this: I challenge you not to have thought 'four' after reading the sum.

That was low of me, and I'm sorry; it was a dirty trick. Let's try that again:
Don't think of four:

2+2=...

'When you have the answer, the question seems simple'.

Well, yes. Thanks for that. What kind of idiot would carry on sweating over a question when he already knows the answer? (Answer: A philosopher. It seems so obvious now, doesn't it?)  But what if you were faced with A+B=C, when A+B is as obvious to you as 2+2,  AND C is both obvious, AND another question, itself with an answer as equally obvious ?  When you're faced with A+B, can you really avoid D?  (Again, interpret that question as best suits your temperament.)

What it boils down to is this: 7 out of 10 conversations I have run through my head backwards. I should say that when I talk of conversations, I suppose I really mean 'discourse'. Monologues, blogs, etc.  All count.

I start at the beginning, quickly catch a log flume ride to the end, and spend the majority of my time silently trying to push the ride back up hill to the top of the flume.  It doesn't make for easy conversation.

It is said that our short term memories hold approximately seven things at once. If true, it also follows that those who think quicker, forget quicker.

I know how this comes across, believe me. There's a familiar air of arrogance about all this, I know. But the arrogance is no friend of mine. It's faux.    

Most people, I think, can silently read dialogue quicker than it could actually be said by anyone, at least in any natural voice. You can read an entire conversation, and imagine the pauses, the tone, the inflection, in what is, figuratively, the blink of an eye. It doesn't feel fast. But it is.  Now try silently reading one half of a written conversation, while someone else speaks aloud the other part.   Can you avoid reading ahead?  

Discourse, I think, requires us to remain in the present, while keeping a close eye on the future, and remembering the past. I find that very hard. The present for me is slippery, and downhill (that log flume ride again). So I stand at the bottom, and look up, trying to remember exactly where I was three tenths of a second ago. I see people interacting, communicating, discoursing. And I'm already nowhere to be seen.

dx

2 A leap of reason.

Well, (not 'so'. I'm so not starting with 'so'), another week, another blog entry. Is it really Thursday already? My, that week just flew by.

Etc.  

I'd like to tell you about a mental handicap that I have, described to you under the veil of insouciant boasting (and, perversely, vice versa).

I'd like to say from the outset that I'm not suggesting that this is a problem unique to me, nor that it's not the case that everyone has this problem. That may well be true. I simply don't know about anyone else. 'I don't know about you, but I-...'

My problem, gentle reader (my sweet, tender reader), is that I have a tendency to think very quickly. A curse, I know (but read on to learn firsthand how having quick wits isn't all bad). I'd like to say from the outset that this isn't a boast about intelligence. You're not that gullible. There is a distinction, certainly, but until I explain what I mean, I can't describe it to you (though if you're quick, and/or smart, you may have figured it out already). For the time being, suffice to say that the difference is there.

I've thought long and hard for a couple of seconds *pause for laughter* and come up with a suitable term for my tragic condition:

Cognizant Intuition.

It's time to roll out the Dictionary Definition of Things(c), like the cabinet in a tired old conjuror's act. Yes, we all know what to expect when the beautiful assistant disappears inside, and yet the audience collectively gasps in amazement as the beautiful assistant disappears! Who knew?! Certainly not I.

Intuition. noun. The ability to understand something immediately, without the need for conscious reasoning.

Thanks, OED. ThOEDanks.

There's also a lesser, but more everyday meaning, which suggests that intuition is just a guess of some sort, or else some weird supernatural ability. We shall shun this idea forthwith. Shun it. Shun it now, I say. Do you hear me?

Is it shunned?

Well okay, then. I shall continue.

I have it on good authority (partially my own, but I believe there may have been others who came to the same conclusions, perhaps even gone so far as to publish them in respected psychology journals) that neither the supernatural, nor guesswork, has anything to do with how intuition actually works.

Normal, rational thought can be described as making a series of what are individually rationally sound decisions ('If A, then it necessarily follows that B. A, in point of fact, therefore B. If B, then it necessarily follows that C. B, therefore C. A, therefore C'), eventually arriving at an apparently unpredicted point. ('Z! Wow! Who woulda thunk?!') Intuition leaps from the first to the last without apparently stopping off at any point in between. A, therefore Z. Little wonder that intuition is sometimes seen as preternatural. Little wonder therefore that it is so often distrusted (if not by ourselves, then by others. Probably by you, in fact *mutters darkly*).

But - the hypothesis goes - intuitive thought is simply thought freed up from the distractions and frictions of the conscious mind. It's all perfectly rational, but operating at a subconscious level. The thoughts are freed from niggling little details like words, are streamlined, and just zip along. But they remain subconscious, and therefore, by definition, NOT CONSCIOUS.

I have a handy little aphorism that elegantly describes the motto of this story: 'trust your intuitions. Or, at least, trust them as much as you trust your "normal", everyday, rational thoughts, which has the unfortunate side effect of making for a somewhat wordier-than-intended aphorism.' - d, 2009. Thursday.

Now, we haven't spoken about me for a bit, so I'd like to get back to that. I personally have my fair share of the bog standard, stock, intuition. But I also have this thing I like to call 'cognizant intuition'. [/air quotes]

The thing about the subconscious is that you're not supposed to know what's really going on inside it. That's sort of what it's for, probably. But a modicum of reflexion should be able to lead you to a modicum of a hint as to what's going on inside the dark recesses of your own skull.  With experience, you can second guess yourself. Rational thought can lead us to rationally and consciously comprehend what might actually by definition be outside the realm of our conscious comprehension. In case it's not clear, all I'm saying here is that the conjuror performs a trick, and we know how it was done, while sitting in our seats, looking smug.  We're not rationally and consciously aware of performing the trick, but we're party to its methods. Our reflexion can become more and more accomplished at this, until it becomes, first, second nature, and second, intuitive. First (I know the word is meaningless in the present context, in isolation like this, but it gives the phrasing symmetry. I have, however, included some instructions for those of you who like clearer sentence structure: first pay close attention to the first 'first', and to both the first and second 'second's. Second, ignore the second 'first'. But only for a second.)

Intuitive understanding of what you're actually subconsciously rationalising when you intuit might sound like a vicious circle (if it doesn't, read the sentence again until it does). But I don't think that's the case. It is, rather, self sustaining. Abstract, unclear thoughts in the swampy, depths of the mind are purified to absolute clarity; they become clean, refreshing, drinking water for... for the, um... head (which symbolically represents the thirsty part of us all.  Sort of the mouth, I guess, but higher up...  Um...)

Intuition works quickly because it exists within the subconscious, free of the semantic framework of our minds, but, paradoxically, becoming cognizant of this does not slow it down. The hand is quicker than the eye, but the brain is quicker than either. Do a card trick, keep your eye on the ace, the sleight of hand is faster than you can see, but you know it's there. You can see the invisible.
But let's move away from the metaphor of trickery. If rational thought is made of a series of steps, and intuition is a giant leap (ostensibly of faith), then there is perhaps a third analogy: The log flume ride: WHOOOOOOOOOOSH!

Let's take a break. See you in five.