The conscience

Could the voices in some sense be working as the conscience and when you are in rejection of your conscience and not integrated with it the voices become torturous?

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Could the conscience not be viewed as some view the voices, something alien stemming outside your consciousness? What if without such a manipulation we’d all behave like animalistic psychopaths? Perhaps a psychopath is like the first ape to walk up right before God fused it with a soul.

If the conscience comes from God, then to be disconnected from it could lead to degeneration, such as what is said when one enters hell and separates from God, which could help explain the dementia of Ayn Rand and Nietzsche.


These spirits can leave I don’t need them to live and without them I am a much nicer person.

But if the conscience were in control of something evil, could that not also be the ultimate form of tyranny and a slave system such as what Nietzsche might suggest?

Look up gaius baltar
He is a character from battlestar galactica who hallucinated a cylon woman and at one point he talks about how he thinks she might be his conscience

I’ve wondered for ages if like a recording being replayed of the subconscious mind. Think that very naïve in the bigger scheme of things. Probably a great deal of truth in it though.

Here is the name of a good book you would like, it examines consciousness from a medical standpoint, a philosophical standpoint and from that of the self. rather insightful: consciousness a users guide by adam zeman

I think that this what Nietzsche was suggesting. I think he called it “The Spirit of Gravity.”

Kitaro Nishida, a Zen and phenomenology influenced Japanese philosopher claims that there has to be something evil in consciousness – Mephisto – for there to be self. He does not really say why.

But it seems to me that in order to extroject the self as hero of the self-narrative voice, or face in the mirror, and believe that is you, then this side of the mirror, the looking and listening, must contain something horrific. The horror keeps us divided (and also thereby, paradoxically, joined).

Oh nothing will keep us together