I have this minor problem, you see, with recursion. And that is ‘what’s on my mind’. For recursion tends to generate various kinds of feedback, and certain forms of controlled recursion are reasonable theoretical facsimiles of stuff like language, meaning, and perhaps even consciousness. So my mind is what’s on my mind. The problem of a set of intelligence potentials that seem ironically inhibited in our common lives, cultures, and relationships. Our vulnerability to mimicry. Our strangely trance-like behavior toward authority. What happens when we look into each others’ eyes. The idea that if you start with being, and fold that back into itself so as to produce a flow of feedback-like reflexivity — the result is time. Could time, folded back upon itself produce the physical dimensions? And what of organisms and sentience? Is this, too, not a kind of transcendental recursion of the most exquisite and astonishing form? Is language a game of recursion with roots we use all the time but are unaware of? Whence comes meaning from words in sequence? I have, you see, this minor problem. With recursion.