Friday, February 26, 2010
Saturday, February 20, 2010
Gnomoncloture
So, it's occurred to me, or I've articulated, or I feel like I should explain...
Let me start over.
So, let's say that there's two of all of you. There's you, the person you are when you get up, your knowledge and experience, your senses, and the self-improving algorithm that is your sentience and consciousness.
This is how I think of myself, by the way, so I'm just guessing your experience is much the same. I acknowledge that this may not be true(or that it is, but you don't articulate it the way I do). Some of you are probably demons, droids, lifeless automatons. Still...
So that's you, YOU. Your you.That's fine.
The you that I interact with, the you that I have...that's a simulation, an idea. A complex collection of remembered interactions and simulated outcomes based on those interactions. It's you...but my imperfect, inaccurate idea of you. And it is inaccurate, imperfect, incomplete. Our beliefs and experiences are all totally different. We want different things, believe different things. We use different words for the same things, the same word for radically different ones. My blue is not your blue.
I can't know your motives, your secrets, your beliefs. Those things are you, the origins and authors of the behaviors that are the only parts of you I can know. I can only know your output. Even those of you that I spend a lot of time with...you're different all the time. Like I am.
Frankly, I can barely keep track of myself on a day-to-day basis. What hope do I have of genuinely knowing any of you enough to judge, or anticipate, or expect? It's hopeless (grin), so I don't. Or I try not to, which is sort of where this is going.
...
Most of you have names, names you were given. Those names are symbols, right? Like "sandwich" isn't literally a sandwich, so "Steve" or "Wilma" aren't literally the persons they label...names are handles (aha!), tools I can use in my head and out of it to understand and address you. But they're like my simulation, like any symbol. They're not what they symbolize. And while I recognize the simplicity and the necessity of that symbolism(can't have my head full of sandwiches)...like so many other things, I think that I need to acknowledge the failure of that system in order to function optimally.
Investigate what is, not what pleases.
I give everyone names-nicknames, hobo names, names you never hear. Names that are things, or places, or notions. Names that aren't words as such-those are hard, weird things. I do it because I like to, because I'm good at naming things. But I do it too, to reflect myself in the way that you're labeled, to give you a glimmer of me. And, I do it because it's confusing, because if I don't nail you down, don't pigeonhole you, then I keep myself from believing that my model is anything like you. Because it isn't.
Let me start over.
So, let's say that there's two of all of you. There's you, the person you are when you get up, your knowledge and experience, your senses, and the self-improving algorithm that is your sentience and consciousness.
This is how I think of myself, by the way, so I'm just guessing your experience is much the same. I acknowledge that this may not be true(or that it is, but you don't articulate it the way I do). Some of you are probably demons, droids, lifeless automatons. Still...
So that's you, YOU. Your you.That's fine.
The you that I interact with, the you that I have...that's a simulation, an idea. A complex collection of remembered interactions and simulated outcomes based on those interactions. It's you...but my imperfect, inaccurate idea of you. And it is inaccurate, imperfect, incomplete. Our beliefs and experiences are all totally different. We want different things, believe different things. We use different words for the same things, the same word for radically different ones. My blue is not your blue.
I can't know your motives, your secrets, your beliefs. Those things are you, the origins and authors of the behaviors that are the only parts of you I can know. I can only know your output. Even those of you that I spend a lot of time with...you're different all the time. Like I am.
Frankly, I can barely keep track of myself on a day-to-day basis. What hope do I have of genuinely knowing any of you enough to judge, or anticipate, or expect? It's hopeless (grin), so I don't. Or I try not to, which is sort of where this is going.
...
Most of you have names, names you were given. Those names are symbols, right? Like "sandwich" isn't literally a sandwich, so "Steve" or "Wilma" aren't literally the persons they label...names are handles (aha!), tools I can use in my head and out of it to understand and address you. But they're like my simulation, like any symbol. They're not what they symbolize. And while I recognize the simplicity and the necessity of that symbolism(can't have my head full of sandwiches)...like so many other things, I think that I need to acknowledge the failure of that system in order to function optimally.
Investigate what is, not what pleases.
I give everyone names-nicknames, hobo names, names you never hear. Names that are things, or places, or notions. Names that aren't words as such-those are hard, weird things. I do it because I like to, because I'm good at naming things. But I do it too, to reflect myself in the way that you're labeled, to give you a glimmer of me. And, I do it because it's confusing, because if I don't nail you down, don't pigeonhole you, then I keep myself from believing that my model is anything like you. Because it isn't.
Friday, February 19, 2010
Unbelief
So those of you whose daily lives intersect with mine on a regular basis, those who are fimbulwinter adjacent...you may be familiar...I have a lot of lines. Lots of pat answers (good hobo name right there) lots of responses I have in my pockets.
I have so many pockets.
And there's a couple, some I use all the time. Like "Gender roles are harmful to society and individuals." or "The devil's onion's got a lot of layers, and all of them will make you cry.".
There's lots of that.
Lately, I've found myself letting people know what I don't believe in, the things with which I have no truck. And, if you know me, you know it's not about being right, being true. It's just what I believe, and being clear about that. I'm all about clarity.
In that spirit, here's a few things that I don't believe, as I've informed people in the last month or so.
I don't believe in luck.
I don't believe in astrology.
I don't believe in tempers.
I don't believe in emotions.
I don't believe in good.
I don't believe in right or wrong.
I don't believe in winning.
I don't believe in value as it's attached to provenance.
I don't believe in objective calendars.
I don't believe in truth.
I don't believe in "deserve", but I do believe in desserts.
I have so many pockets.
And there's a couple, some I use all the time. Like "Gender roles are harmful to society and individuals." or "The devil's onion's got a lot of layers, and all of them will make you cry.".
There's lots of that.
Lately, I've found myself letting people know what I don't believe in, the things with which I have no truck. And, if you know me, you know it's not about being right, being true. It's just what I believe, and being clear about that. I'm all about clarity.
In that spirit, here's a few things that I don't believe, as I've informed people in the last month or so.
I don't believe in luck.
I don't believe in astrology.
I don't believe in tempers.
I don't believe in emotions.
I don't believe in good.
I don't believe in right or wrong.
I don't believe in winning.
I don't believe in value as it's attached to provenance.
I don't believe in objective calendars.
I don't believe in truth.
I don't believe in "deserve", but I do believe in desserts.
Friday, February 12, 2010
Anonymocracy
Is government by the nameless. Assuming that a name is much more complicated than just "Steve" or "Susan" or "Horsecorpse Veto", that the words I use are just a small part of the True Name that I call them in my head. The simulated version of you that I create from my accumulated memory of your output, your kinetic and photonic waste. I've been seriously considering how I can externalize this process, the photos and the files I'd keep. I'll post regular updates.
In our shared future where personal privacy is as anachronistic as an abacus, or a horse...in that future, the asymmetry of information that exists between the many and the few will vanish. And when we each know what the other knows, the inefficiencies that come with involuntary ignorance will also vanish. There'll still be bigotry, but the Intangible Hand will sort that out...unless you don't want it to, there's still novelty to be had being a bigot. The pain I choose is different from the pain I don't.
There's been lots to like lately, I've had tuberculosis.
Not literally, those of you who read this and will be concerned that I've gotten a 19th century disease. It's a pun. For future reference, anytime I say that I have leprosy, rickets, scurvy, buboes (fun to say!)...it's probably just a pun.
ANYWAY, so the tuberculosis (which comes from parsnips, potatoes, beets!)...has included not a small amount of Goethe, which is awesome. All sorts of good, from poetry to Faust. Recommended by a customer of mine, a Professor of German Lit and Translation. So many ivory tower motherfuckers, so much data. I want more data, did you know that?
I want more data.
So, Goethe. Awesome. Here's some choice bits.
Investigate what is, and not what pleases.
Much there is I can stand, and most things not easy to suffer
I bear with quiet resolve, just as a god commands it.
Only a few I find as repugnant as snakes and poison —
These four: tobacco smoke, bedbugs, garlic, and Christ.
If I love you, what business is it of yours?
I am not Omniscient, but I know a lot.
More Light.
Also, for those of you who share locality...tonight, at Sam Bond's Garage...I will be leading a team from Capella against a handful of soulless drones from Trader Joe's in a game of Family Feud. Come out, brave the hipsters and see me and people I like.
In our shared future where personal privacy is as anachronistic as an abacus, or a horse...in that future, the asymmetry of information that exists between the many and the few will vanish. And when we each know what the other knows, the inefficiencies that come with involuntary ignorance will also vanish. There'll still be bigotry, but the Intangible Hand will sort that out...unless you don't want it to, there's still novelty to be had being a bigot. The pain I choose is different from the pain I don't.
There's been lots to like lately, I've had tuberculosis.
Not literally, those of you who read this and will be concerned that I've gotten a 19th century disease. It's a pun. For future reference, anytime I say that I have leprosy, rickets, scurvy, buboes (fun to say!)...it's probably just a pun.
ANYWAY, so the tuberculosis (which comes from parsnips, potatoes, beets!)...has included not a small amount of Goethe, which is awesome. All sorts of good, from poetry to Faust. Recommended by a customer of mine, a Professor of German Lit and Translation. So many ivory tower motherfuckers, so much data. I want more data, did you know that?
I want more data.
So, Goethe. Awesome. Here's some choice bits.
Investigate what is, and not what pleases.
Much there is I can stand, and most things not easy to suffer
I bear with quiet resolve, just as a god commands it.
Only a few I find as repugnant as snakes and poison —
These four: tobacco smoke, bedbugs, garlic, and Christ.
If I love you, what business is it of yours?
I am not Omniscient, but I know a lot.
More Light.
Also, for those of you who share locality...tonight, at Sam Bond's Garage...I will be leading a team from Capella against a handful of soulless drones from Trader Joe's in a game of Family Feud. Come out, brave the hipsters and see me and people I like.
Friday, February 5, 2010
Organisms
Organization, method. Things I lack, but I lack for nothing but the vacuums I create. Lots of good lately, lots of busy. As I externalize more and more of myself, I imagine it freeing up internal resources. More of me to devote.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)