228 posts
This is my favorite of the #MissAmericana reviews, although I think the headline is a bit off. (Loved the doc, BTW. I subscribed to Netflix just to watch it.)
Okay, I’ll bite. *Chomp*
Am I the only one who yells at my TV? I realize they can’t hear me, but when people start wishing for a Donald vs. Bernie race, I can’t help myself -- I have to yell! God, noooooooooooooooooooooo!
The greatest love story of all time more or less began with this song (believe it or not).
Back in the day, these were my jams. (And I had a pair of ugly, ugly shorts that were actually called JAMS. Go figure.)
Yellow looks bad on men. Some women make the colour soar. Only one reminds me of the summers of my youth, when the only worry was how to pay for an afternoon treat. When I would lie in the emerald grass and watch the clouds roll through...
Feeling dumb right now -- yes, you can quote me on that -- so I’m throwing it back to the ladies at my old stomping grounds. (You know who you are.) ;)
(Image caption: Location of neurons predicting partner’s choices superimposed on a stained section through one animal’s amygdala. Colours indicate different nuclei. Courtesy of Fabian Grabenhorst)
‘Mindreading’ neurons simulate decisions of social partners
Researchers at the University of Cambridge identified the previously-unknown neuron type, which they say actively and spontaneously simulates mental decision processes when social partners learn from one another.
The study, published in Cell, suggests that these newly-termed ‘simulation neurons’ – found in the amygdala, a collection of nerve cells in the temporal lobe of the brain – allow animals (and potentially also humans) to reconstruct their social partner’s state of mind and thereby predict their intentions.
The researchers go on to speculate that if simulation neurons became dysfunctional this could restrict social cognition, a symptom of autism. By contrast, they suggest overactive neurons could result in exaggerated simulation of what others might be thinking, which may play a role in social anxiety.
The study’s lead author, Dr Fabian Grabenhorst from the Department of Physiology, Development and Neuroscience, says: “We started out looking for neurons that might be involved in social learning. We were surprised to find that amygdala neurons not only learn the value of objects from social observation but actually use this information to simulate a partner’s decisions.”
Simulating others’ decisions is a sophisticated cognitive process that is rooted in social learning. By observing a partner’s foraging choices, for instance, we learn which foods are valuable and worth choosing. Such knowledge not only informs our own decisions but also helps us predict the future decisions of our partner.
Psychologists and philosophers have long suggested that simulation is the mechanism by which humans understand each other’s minds. Yet, the neural basis for this complex process has remained unclear. The amygdala is well known for its diverse roles in social behaviour and has been implicated in autism. Until now, however, it was unknown whether amygdala neurons also contribute to advanced social cognition, such as simulating others’ decisions.
The study recorded activity from individual amygdala neurons as macaque monkeys took part in an observational learning task. Sat facing each other with a touch screen between them, the animals took turns in making choices to obtain rewards. To maximise their fruit juice reward, the animals were required to learn and track the reward probabilities associated with different pictures displayed on the screen.
The study allowed one animal to observe its partner’s choices so that they could learn the pictures’ reward values. Once the pictures switched between them, the observing animal could make use of this knowledge when it was their turn to choose.
Surprisingly, the researchers found that when an animal observed its partner, the observer’s amygdala neurons seemed to play out a decision computation. These neurons first compared the reward values of the partner’s choice options before signalling the partner’s likely choice, consistent with a simulated decision process. Importantly, these activity patterns occurred spontaneously, well before partner’s choices and without decision requirement for the observer.
Based on their findings, the scientists created the first computer model of the amygdala’s neural circuits involved in social cognition. By showing how specific types of neurons influence one another, this model suggests that the amygdala contains a ‘decision circuit’ which works out the animal’s own choices and a separate ‘simulation circuit’ which computes a prediction of the social partner’s choice.
(Image caption: Graphic showing two decision systems in the primate amygdala. Courtesy of Fabian Grabenhorst)
Grabenhorst said: “Simulation and decision neurons are closely intermingled within the amygdala. We managed to distinguish between them and their different functions by carefully examining one neuron at a time. This would not have been possible with human brain imaging techniques that measure the averaged activity of large numbers of neurons.”
“We think that simulation neurons are important building blocks for social cognition — they allow animals to reconstruct their partners’ mental decision processes. Simulation neurons could also constitute simple precursors for the amazing cognitive capacities of humans, such as ‘Theory of Mind’.”
The scientists suggest that if simulation neurons were dysfunctional or completely absent, this could impoverish social behaviour.
Grabenhorst says: “If simulation neurons don’t function properly, a person might not be able to relate very well to the mental states of others. We know very little about how specific neuron types contribute to social cognition and to the social challenges faced by individuals with autism. By identifying specific neurons and circuit mechanisms for mental simulation, our study may offer new insights into these conditions.”
I’m in the mood for a video flashback! (True confession: I wasn’t allowed to watch MTV, so I’m catching up now.)
@NASA has the best photos -- although I suppose they have to share credit this time with the ESA. #kennedywins
I vividly remember my only visit to the Lincoln Memorial in Washington. I have the photos from it in the house where I found peace and quiet for the first time in my life.
President Lincoln was said to have suffered from depression, and I can identify with that. It leaves you empty, so you need the closeness of others but don’t want to spread your glass-half-emptiness.
I’ve sought comfort on the Internet ever since the February night when my maternal grandfather died. He had lost an arm in a train accident long before I was born, and I don’t think he ever really got over it. To me he was the quiet yet grumpy Scotch-Irishman who wouldn’t dare let his wife Mary tell him what to do, and she wasn’t smart enough -- or didn’t care enough -- to realize that her insistence in doing things her way NEVER ended with him coming around to her point of view. And yet when he died around Valentine’s Day that year (when I was a junior in high school), they had the sweetest parting moment. He shared a “Be Mine” candy heart with her and then fell asleep forever. I was chatting with friends on AOL at the time. I heard my mother scream and then ran into the kitchen to ask my father’s mother what had happened. They told me, and I sort of matter-of-factly went back to chatting online. I didn’t process it until the next day when I had to excuse myself from Physics class and then proceeded to the bathroom to weep.
Before they closed my grandfater’s casket at the funeral, I tossed in a poem called “Flowers for Ivere” (he was named after the soap, but his poor parents didn’t know how to spell). He was buried in the section of a Memphis, Tennessee, cemetery where all the legendary newspaper men and women were buried. He was one who communicated through the stories he’d show us when he thought we might enjoy reading the news. He would stay up late into the night to read every word of every paper every day. Those were much better times. s
We young people love to criticize the “Boomers” and those even older, but I suspect we are the dumb ones, not the other way around. They could appreciate the little things. They were stubborn, but stubbornness is a necessary evil when you have to go through life armed-man. And he wouldn’t dare let my grandmother help him button his shirt. He could do it himself, thank you very much. (He did, however, enlist me to help upon occasion.) That’s the type of things I miss -- the little intangibles that didn’t matter back then, but now that they’re gone and we’re spending a day reflecting on dead people, I think about those things.
I never got to find out about his family, and I’m afraid I’m about to miss out learning about my father and the things he’s alluded to but doesn’t have the heart to tell me. Some of it I have inferred, but I neither want to ask the questions I’d like to ask nor do I want to hear the answer.
I long to go back to those days that seem almost like dreams, the stories I haven’t shared because I don’t feel it’s my place.
I’ve never been good at public speaking -- I often am silent in public, and that’s interpreted as being stuck up or that I don’t like anyone but myself.
After brain surgery, my perspective on everything changed, but I still feel like that little boy trapped inside his head. I only seem to be able to express myself when I type, because that’s about how fast my brain moves before jumping to another thought process.
This is the type of stuff I wanted to write in a book so that I could drift away from dwelling on all the negativity of the world. I want to live, but I feel I can do that only if I have a ying to my yang. Music is what makes me happy, so I know that’s where I tend to gravitate. But I don’t know how to leap from my current reality (a messy home in a mostly quiet neighborhood a few blocks from the water in Florida) to where I want to be, which is with someone who has captured my attention. And of course there’s a new wrinkle -- that I have to move back to the city I felt I needed to escape from, which is now flooding just like it did two times when I was barely old enough to remember anything.
The leap is the hardest part, and honestly I think I would have stayed silent forever if I hadn’t nearly died and then woke up to a reality that I’m not allowed to talk about except in these long diatribes that don’t really say anything.
I would like to take a minute to think Mrs. Cunningham. Fluff truly is overrated! And so today on President’s Day I’d like to do something that you’re not supposed to do as a journalist: bury the lead. And while I know the old adage that I shouldn’t put off till tomorrow what I could do today, I still want to hold onto the anonymity for another day. Many people who know me probably know to what I’m alluding, but it’s not a good idea to be a blabber-mouth -- even on an underused social media platform where secrets go to be buried. My family’s neighborhood (to which I soon will have to return sans a miracle) is under a flooding threat, and it’s not my place to share this good news lest I steal his thunder again.
Plus, I’ve got to go pick up my crazy cat from the vet. She’s supposed to be a comfort animal, and she is very pretty, but I miss my dog, who my brother and I affectionately called Mr. Pup Dog. He’s buried under a rose bush in the house where I grew up -- back in the day where you didn’t need TV or anything else to entertain you. You could just ride your bike and be free of it all.
For all of you 39211 brats like me, I’d like to say: Long live “The Dip.” Those days were the best ever!
And P.S. If a certain woman reads this and wants to “be the man,” I leave my light on. ;)
Despite what you may have heard, I’m alive but not kickin’ right now.
My prayer today… will you join me in praying it?
Amen! (at Livingchristian.org) https://www.instagram.com/p/B8oqyPTnNoP/?igshid=186lzcpkeqbg1
My nieces helped decorate my fridge. The oldest one drew the plane flying over the mountains.
❤ Happy valentine’s day! ❤
My latest (and perhaps greatest) inspirational mix. I’ll post the artists later after I prepare for my own meeting. I’m trying not to be nervous, but the positive thinking thing isn’t working for me yet!
I played my extremely intelligent niece in chess last year. I went in thinking, “OK, this will be humbling.” So I figured I’d play it cool and try to beat her, as she had actually taken lessons, but about four moves in I realized that I was already the baby stuck in the corner. So, no, Sybil, we know you’re the smartest! And while I may agree to play chess with you again in the future, just know that I know that my heart’s only in the things where I know I can win at the end. ;)
It didn’t take long for the NYPost to go negative. What’s wrong with the Aussies?!