Now that you finally realize, you immediately wonder: if I’m a cake, how can I think? Do I have a brain made out of cake? Or were brains really just a distraction this whole time and cognition comes from something else? As you contemplate this metaphysical conundrum, you think back to all the other cakes you’ve encountered in your life, you feel dizzy for a second and it hits you in a wave of nausea, cake batter coming up your throat, Were all those cakes I ate, over all those years, conscious?
Now that you finally realize, you immediately wonder: if I’m a cake, how can I think? Do I have a brain made out of cake? Or were brains really just a distraction this whole time and cognition comes from something else? As you contemplate this metaphysical conundrum, you think back to all the other cakes you’ve encountered in your life, you feel dizzy for a second and it hits you in a wave of nausea, cake batter coming up your throat, Were all those cakes I ate, over all those years, conscious?