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   <title>ZOACODES - Ebon Fisher</title>
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      <font color="#1AA5B2"><font size=4>The Nervoid Connection</font></font><br>
      <font color="#2C8C80">_______________</font>
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      <font color="#2C8C80" size="2">We do not comprehend an object so much as entwine
      with it. We and the object quiver in a marmalade of probabilities, groping for a hold upon a node materializing between us. As
      we are prone to sense objects everywhere, we are drawn to a firmament of
      contact points, a field of seductions, a ubiquitous node.</font>
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      <font color="#2C8C80" size="2">This situation might be reduced to mere psychology:
      we bumble into phantoms of human attention, our integrated consciousness
      projecting upon the observed, conjuring up a soul, a point. But without
      proof of objects or consciousness, we cannot be sure our attention is inside
      you or me, within our minds or outside in the world.</font>
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      <font color="#2C8C80" size="2">So let us simply abandon the obsession to locate
      anything anywhere. We kiss goodbye both objectivity and subjectivity, science
      and art. We dissolve all arguments, acquiescing to an expression about
      the living node, about the charm of our world, which can
      be said with sheer presence:</font>
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      <font size="2">      <a href="codindex.html" target="_parent"><img src="=become-round-w.gif" width="75" height="67" border="0"></a><br>
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      <font color="#2C8C80" size="2">We are this node.</font>
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      <font size=-1>&ndash;Ebon Fisher</font>
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<p align="right"><font color="#33CCCC" size="1" face="Times New Roman, Times, serif">&copy;2006 Ebon Fisher</font>    </p>
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Anon7 - 2021