What if we discovered that language was a virus installed in your head? Imagine your mind inoculated from the curse of comprehension. What would our thoughts look like without the clothing of words? Mammals are highly empathic creatures with an elaborate sharing interface. The brain burns most of our precious calories on the interpretation of others. An fMRI shows two brains reacting identically when only one subject is exposed to a facial expression. We literally share someone’s live feed by subscribing to each other’s feelings.
A baby boy is born. His emotional software comes preinstalled from the factory. He has no language. He has no concept of shape. He knows pain and he knows its absence. Feeding is a built-in function, not a skill learned in first grade. His mind is purely irrational. It is motivated by instinct and intuition. This irrational state is one of pure connection and vulnerability. Imagine the freedom in a mind with no language. Before words, ideas were blurred fish swimming in the stream of consciousness. They had no associations or edges. With language installed, our words are a million transparent cups jumbling the river.
Corporatism needs men with words that are predictable and linear. Man serves this system best as a tiny reliable motor. But our deeper intuition is a sail harnessing the raw power of emotion. Man can be more of a canvas than an engine. This kind of power can only be experienced outside the harbor. Without a destination, the mind can justify the ‘ridiculous’ journey. When the mind is free of language, the concept of rationality can be treated as just another opinion for parsing the world. From this free space we remember that language itself could be a figment of the imagination. We could be pretending the very concept of objectivity.
Imagine this spring a small startup discovers a cure for the babel virus. A new technology is developed that breaks the world’s ceiling. The world will not end that day. But the illusion will change as a curtain of language is opened above us. The new technology is applied like a patch behind both ears. It vibrates into the skull and blocks the language center of the brain. It’s a white noise filter for comprehension. The wearer can still hear sounds, but the words are no longer connected to their former meaning. Likewise, the words we hear in our head are rendered superfluous. This technology makes the emotions clearer. We start to see a temperament emerge from the vibration of the speaker versus the verbiage. By paralyzing our language center, the ego loses its ability to command through linear reasoning. The brain is rendered speechless. Our eyes are finally able to tune into the direct vibration of another person’s emotion. A deeper emotive ego takes over as the mind loses its stilts and falls into the frothing tide of heart. A new self emerges from the tide. He is the captain of intuition.
There are several side effects to this technology. One of the most profound is the discovery of emotional telepathy. For the first time, we begin to understand each other above the chirping. Our clean minds allow us to experience a new fidelity in the silence. Our entire body becomes the listening device. We discover an inner being to man as a tuning fork for emotion. Conversations turn into sessions of beholding. We are filled by and with the presence of each other. This kind of communion has no fingers to grip an agenda. Unlike the one-lane bridge of speaking and listening, emotional telepathy opens an asynchronous connection.
We’ve had these abilities all along but our mind was suffering from is own babel. The electric language was too loud. On the brain’s surface, the virus called the Tower of Babel has fallen. Its barbed stinger is freed and blood rushes into the crevices and replenishing our gray tributaries. Our life slips back into a marinade of the heart’s wet pulsing. The bellow of breath returns again to stoke the engine. We return the human motor from electric to steam.