Hmm …

… Book review of Sam Harris' Waking Up | Open Letters Monthly - an Arts and Literature Review. (Hat tip, Dave Lull.)

The feeling we call ‘I’ is an illusion. There is no discrete self or ego living like a minotaur in the labyrinth of the brain. And the feeling that there is—the sense of being perched somewhere behind your eyes, looking out at a world that is separate from yourself—can be altered or entirely extinguished.

So says Sam Harris. But if this be so, why bother with the self at all? What is the point of "spirituality" if not to provide some sort of benefit for the "self"? But if there is no self, this is surely a fool's errand. I suppose the point of being conscious is just to watch the organism that we are take place, do its stuff. I can't at the moment think of any grounds for passing judgment on what it does, regarding one thing as good and another not. And what good what do anyway. I presume there isn't any free will, either.  And what is this "reason" business all about? Just another illusion, I suspect (except, of course, "I" don't).