There is more to us than the physical linkages that make up our minds—but there is no denying this physical substrate. You have seen it if you have eaten chicken: those whitish strings you encounter on your plate are nerves—bundles of axons, evidence of the fleshy connectivity without which no sophisticated living mind on earth can function. You can argue all you want about the soul. But without the connectome formed by the billions of synapses firing in the nervous system, there is no possibility of even the simplest memory. Every memory of lemonade you have is an electrochemical lightning
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