Abstract

If, as Ned Block has argued, consciousness is a mongrel concept, then this collection resembles nothing so much as a visit to a dog pound, where one can hear all the varieties baying, at full volume. The experience is one of immersion in a voluminous excited cacophony, with much yipping and barking, some deep-throated growling, and other voices that can only be characterized as howling at the moon. What a time to be conscious! What a time to be conscious of being conscious!