Of quantum discretes that signify Quantities while availing continuous experiences of Qualities:
A moral Dance unfolds. It entails a process, or two-step dance, of quantifiably digitized feedback. The partners consist of a Field synchronizer (God?) dancing with Particular Perspectives of the synchronization (Human Consciousness). Each Perspective apprehends its point of view within the fuzzy parameters and possibilities availed to its fluxing and allotted context. Each Apprehension coordinates with Intention in respect of the preservation and flourishing of its sponsor's Identity. That Intention leads to a Synchronization of Consequences by the Synchronizer. Depending on discrete level and layer of analysis, that synchronization may be appreciated in various aspects of pre-set Default (deity-like inanimate substance, conceptualized as pre-set artifacts of meta-functioning levels of consciousness) interfunctioning in (god-like) Choice-making active engagement among levels of consciousness. The Consequences are particularly Appreciated. Each particular Appreciation leads to Apprehension-Intention in its Appreciator. That Intention leads to Consequences, which the Synchronizer synchronizes. Back and forth between the Field and its expression of particular perspectives goes the quantitiatively digitized expression of Feedback. However, the motive (or emotive) QUALITY of conscious Apprehension-Appreciation that is enjoyed (or feared) by each Perspective (perhaps enjoyed as well by the Synchronizer) is not itself subject to direct measurement. Thus, the shared Play of our Morality partakes both of the Intentional and the Consequential, the Quantitative and the Qualitative, in a discretely separated but sequential unfolding. Thus, Morality pertains in part both to State of Mind as well as to Responsibility for Results. To whine that such often seems "unfair" is mainly irrelevant.
It's when Perspectives of a Field of Consciousness begin to apprehend the Dance that things get metaphysically interesting. A body may be merely a derivative of pre-set signs, a bootstrapped vehicle for facilitating the Dance. The human body may tend to be more fitted to house a Perspective at a level that can apprehend an apprehension of metaphysics. However, what becomes of each such Perspective, once the substantive form of body that was leveraged by it decays? Is all the progress, learning, experience, and awareness of substantive possibilities that were theretofore affiliated with a now dead body then lost to the Field that underlies the universe? In withdrawing the conditions that theretofore sustained the body that housed a Perspective, does the encompassing Field therewith reclaim the Perspective to its embrace? If so, may the re-assimilated and absorbed Perspective then "remember" or receive enhanced metaphysical capacities in respect of its particular ventures into the quantifying universe?
Thus, when one's axiomatic system begins with a conception of a conscious Field interfunctioning with conscious Perspectives, one may conceptualize the non-discrete Continuity of space-time as epiphenomenal appearance, artefactually signified in respect of a dance of apprehension-appreciation that unfolds between a Synchronizer-field and its expressions of particular Perspectives. That is, the appearance of Continuity is derivative of interfunctioning of digitized Discretes. On the other hand, when one's axiomatic system begins with a conception of non-conscious, inanimate Space-Time (gravity), so that one tries to model everything else in respect of a concept of a non-conscious, "holistic thing" (purely substantive universe), one will eventually be led to try to reconcile and reduce everything, even the quality of consciousness, to purely quantifiable relationships. The fly in that ointment is this: One cannot objectively prove that which Ought to be done based only on that which is quantifiably measured to have been done. In other words, were one successfully to reduce Man to mere Quantities, one would have suicide-bombed, humbled, devalued, dehumanized, or zombie-fied Man. Conversations about that which we should do would become uninspired, meaningless, and absurd, untethered to any attracting assimilation.
To my adducement (or intuition?), people begin a mistaken path when they expect to reconcile a true and correct unifying belief about "reality" that will be constant, consistent, and practical for all purposes, regardless of point of view, context (frame or model) of reference, and flux of purposes. I don't think we have access to map a unifying model for that kind of reality. Our bivalent logic runs up against the paradox of the class (or set) of one. I think it's enough that our different maps tend to be practical for different purposes. I suspect the Lewis people and the anti-Lewis people are both wrong if they expect, either via objective experimentation or rigorous logic, to adduce an all purpose unifying map. The basis for my suspicion is fuzzy, ineffable, interior, subjective experience. Because I bootstrap intuition to "prove" intuition, I can neither be proved right nor wrong. I am a Whitman blade of grass.
From Walt Whitman --- Song of Myself:
The wild gander leads his flock through the cool night;
Ya-honk! he says, and sounds it down to me like an invitation
Wandering, amazed at my own lightness and glee;
In the late afternoon choosing a safe spot to pass the night,
Kindling a fire and broiling the fresh-kill’d game;
I think I could turn and live with animals, they are so placid and self-contain’d;
I stand and look at them long and long.
They do not lie awake in the dark and weep for their sins;
They do not make me sick discussing their duty to God;
Why should I wish to see God better than this day?
I see something of God each hour of the twenty-four, and each moment then;
In the faces of men and women I see God, and in my own face in the glass;
I find letters from God dropt in the street—and every one is sign’d by God’s name,
The spotted hawk swoops by and accuses me—he complains of my gab and my loitering.
I too am not a bit tamed—I too am untranslatable;
I sound my barbaric yawp over the roofs of the world.