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that i'm not even sure what the full interreddit bayesianism thing is, nor do i actually want to. it's very clearly some nice but misguided gentleman iterating up a networked quantum fundament they all share together. sometimes. i bet the banhammer has mental health issues there some days i started from, really: "i want to write stupid stuff on my website" and also, from that r. a. wilson book, was automatic writing, but then i actually already knew of this and that was finally enough to... switch off my brain and PORNTIPSGUIZZARDO and there you go. that's just what came out and i didn't pick that and it's a simcity 2000 cheat code. i can tell you reasons that were involved in why it got chosen but i'm ultimately rather vague on the matter. and i could root into it and figure it out but i will learn nothing from this so [plays noise SC2K makes when you try this cheat code on the windows version where it doesn't work] and i'm writing stuff like this for ages, years. then i start to, like "oh right, fuzzy logic with wilson" and "well this feels 0.7" and these guesses were crap at first and a lot still are. but after enough "was i right? why?" or "how did i screw it up that time" the picks are becoming more specific and almost useful. that i've worked through this bootstrap process with any number of... brain things... and alright, we've made first contact, it sort of works. sort of and now it's up to "it works alright" and i use this only in conjunction with thinking things through like a normal human. really? it helps a shit-ton when i'm stuck on something, most big ups there but i stick to, like... 0.2, 0.5. that these are really just nerd notation for 0-100% i guess and it's rare we even get 15% it's just like 10 50 70 80 etc she is a good tinkertoy and will keep develop. but it's just a very good guessing machine and not some mainline into life's secrets |
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but i click in when it gets interesting it did. but first: magic the gathering, casual as one can be casual with such a thing and still consider themselves a member. i would like to formally withdraw this. when it comes to M:TG i am a diletante that succeds by leaning on theory -- unless someone is actually good. In NIN - Starfuckers, Reznor momentarily stops his brutal industrial electronic track to break into "You're So Vain" by Carly Simon. To mean, this is the most succinct way to separate out someone who knows music theory... from a musician. Music theory doesn't teach you how to do this. Schools also, however, require praxis, and -- no, practice alone doesn't do it either, even though you won't get anywhere without it. Practice is also about understanding your mistakes... and a limit. played some Magic:The Gathering this weekend. First off, it seems i'm a fossil time-warp microwaved back from fifth or sixth edition MTG. What's a legendary card? "Commander?" Slow down ...we do a draft. the functional description on one card is so complex they've had to cut multiple corners to make it even fit on there, "At the the beginning of your end, take the top card..." etc ...and with annoying questions, I manage to understand the card in, I dunno, two minutes. However, in the time it took me to decode the card, he's through over a dozen of them. some even more complex. and i dfhjgkdfhkjg, "Augh, I don't have the vocabulary you do!!" [I can handle these concepts, but I'm learning some of this shit on the fly when you've seen it all many times before] and [How can I build decks if I don't undertand] and then [If you know hundreds of cards you can DJ them from memory] and [I have to hunt through the crate for ages like a blind autistic mole] and [I still won't pick like you] ...but the Reznor/Simon thing. That nails it. MTG, I know the theory, but I'm not a musician |
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he asked me, like: "should i bring over some magic cards?" and i say: "ohhh nahh i have plenty -- but maybe tarot cards?" and the answer was something like: "ohhh nooo i only have [incredibly specific tarot thing?] unpacked i'll just bring some cards" and then his backpack is very heavy after the train and i offer to trade for my empty backpack and he refuses. sometimes you simply have to someone be themself. he's a good man but i do have cards. my cards, then the cards at least three people have been all "oh here i'm never doing this no more" including my sister. ...anyways, i never use blue cards, because i've had trouble fathoming how to make a blue deck work because... alright, so when can i play this, um... instant, and... he's off on a firehose of... i meant this to be a simple functional question with an answer only slightly more complex than yes or no, and wat, halp, i'm drowning. i then point out this, and the firehose reboots and blasts again. then i try to explain, like, the thing i was saying about chess and communication and always feeling like i'm on a 56k modem? you're having the same problem right now, can't you see? no. i'm being negative. what. no, i meant... and, ok, back to normal -- me having this problem. |
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...anyways, i do have cards. my cards, then the cards at least three people have been all "oh here i'm never doing this no more" including my sister. so then i'd break down the cards by color and split off the mana and into the box. but entire decks go into the box at once, if they're single color. unshuffled. perhaps even stacked in the order representing the state of the last game played, sans lands. ...but i never use blue cards, because i've had trouble fathoming how the fuck this shit. so all the unwanted blue cards went into this section as, sometimes, entire decks ...and what if that could be like.. to anyone else, it would be useless noise. but in the context of me pulling it out and being in a game with these cards that... even the pictures bring back a little. and, yes, i think she played a blue deck by the TV in one of those borrowed relative house situations in vermont. this is my brain saying "...mmm, yes, you asked if i could use this little scrap of organized information from the past to dredge up something specific? well, here is the strongest result i have" and it's that. and i think it is probably right; it's uncanny like that. and it's simply because i asked for it; i did not have to do anything -- all the hindbrain's diligent work. however, it's a guess -- it could be completely wrong. i am not interested in figuring out whether or not it's correct. i'm trying to understand how i got a result that solid at all [without having to sit there and try and fish it out; think about it]. it's good enough, actually, that... my gosh, i'm asking myself nosebleed nerd questions about combinatorics and i'm seeing it as... not quite a visualization, and... yes, i see. then i back off, and... that was not quite math? i don't fully understand why that would be correct? so it sit there and work it out on paper and it is. badass |
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...but i never use blue cards, because i've had trouble fathoming how the fuck this shit. so all the unwanted blue cards went into this section as, sometimes, entire decks. unshuffled. perhaps evenstacked in the order representing the state of the last game played, sans lands. the result my brain gave me -- "yes, i think she played a blue deck by the TV in one of those borrowed relative house situations in vermont" -- is really about, like -- yes, she played a blue deck. yes, it's possible it could have gone into the box unsorted and remained that way for, honestly, 20 years. but it's had a lot of chances to get de-shuffled, and this is just about "well it could be this [memory still frame comes up on slide projector]" and it's because yes, she did play a blue deck [70% sure] in that location [50% sure] and it could be a strange informational time capsule in that box [???% i do not even try, i know better] next day, like: fuck, shit. PISS. neal stephenson has cleaned my clock again. he had this too. the card game in cryptonomicon. the keystream. that's catchy; i might use that but he built a blue deck out of my blue cards. and now that i know how counterspells work, i've shuffled them all. how fascinating! it's an informational time warp! [shuffles cards nonchalantly] who has time for such things, really? i want to prove a point we were arguing over -- that, fuck, i should have bet -- about larger decks. i want to make a goofy fat 100 card blue deck. it could be good a deck, even. but more likely: it will be legal, serviceable, and bizarre [like me]. the point here is to take something that, surface level, seems like the opposite of a good strategy, that in fact this should be a complete train wreck, and then it isn't, and halp, what have you done to reality but i'll never get him that card... er, hard. he went off on his own tangent about some red cards. he's way better at this than me. yet he still doesn't believe me |
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today, i thought... "oh, i'm smarter than all of them put together. or a few of them put together. or... well, how many precisely?" and on the automatic writing of unfiltered, conscious, best guesses from the hindbrain to the forebrain... tip... i get an answer: 2.4 this was a lol. before i can go any further up my own butt with this: "could five of them together figure it out? three?" 2.4, yessir. before i was about to continue on to thinking it through myself. this absurd, stupid giggle of a somewhat vain train of thought. when i say i am smarter than all of them -- well, honestly, that's not much of an accomplishment. they're miserable robots. and... all of them? hmmmm... this answer, honestly... my immediate reaction was: "that low?!" i'd been feeling it'd be more three or four, really. but i suppose i was being a bit vain this is a perfect example of where "baysianism" or fuzzy-logic thinking automatic whatnot.... what's most impressive is that you always get an answer. a best guess. it can even be uncanny but then, in the context of my mind wandering yoga -- apparently i am as smart as 2.4 of these people at once. yessir. what shit. lol |
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but i suppose key is that i didn't mean to request a quote, i was sent back 2.4 like an involuntary reflex, and the number then kind of made me raise an eyebrow -- because i was figuring three or four perhaps. and lol. guess i'm not that smart i love this thing to death. it's my buddy. but, lovely as it is, well, it would certainly try to win the lottery for me... but we'd both lose |
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but i click in when it gets interesting it did. but i'm keeping those cards to myself |
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so we compare that guess (2.4) and... it could mean other things than numbers, really. that i'm equivalent 2 four. or that it's about reflecting people off of each other and there's some sort of doubling involved this is different than the game of giving things probabilities. there, it's more a useful thing. a proper guesser. if i've spent time assigning probabilities to a particular category of thing, and analyzing why i was right/wrong. a feedback loop to calibrate it from a flappy noisy ungrounded thing to a thing that does a reasonable job of approximating something in reality. similar to how someone's name will pop into your head. and, you haven't seen of them in perhaps ten years? but unless you've sat there and worked out the calendar math, boom, you've just done the baysianism crap yourself. because you saying "oh, jeez, it's been at least ten years" -- well, if it were as large as twenty, you'd say twenty. if it were last year you'd think last year. i figure everyone does this, yes? ...but it makes the point well. you could sit there and stress over and nail down how many years, precisely... but you already have a machine of sorts in there, that works well enough few people even notice. or think about tuning it ...but then maybe 2.4 means "i'm equivalent to 2.4" or "i'm equivalent 2 four" or "i'm equivalent to 2-4" or back to it's a floating point variable? so even the numbers, like... aren't precisely those. more the tip of an iceberg anyways, i was asking myself questions about probabilities in a game of magic: the gathering. and i got something that felt like a visualization, but then i realize it isn't, and i've lost it, but i know the answer... ? and work it out, it's correct. this has happened to me a few times before. it actually feels more like this thing's native tongue. but i have to get it to happen a few more times before... well, i can deliberately get it to happen at all. and, yes, any suggestions? |
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try to think of the logistics eminem has to deal with as a rap god. as shown in the video, he is hooked up to a gigantic robot library pulling references. to feed what condenses into flow. does eminem spend time considering where all this stuff comes from fuck no. there's no time for that. the robot pulls what he needs and out comes a fragment of chubb rock or something. ask him about this fragment later, he might say a whole range of things: "that's chubb rock, of course." but maybe it's foggier and he says "hmmm, ummm... ohhhh, that's chubb rock" or if a rap god could be so troubled by such matters, he'd finally crack it three days later, in the shower "ohhhhh, hey! so that's where that was from" and text it to you over fone so rewriting stuff. being prompted and prodded. the robot is just pulling things off the shelf for me. it wasn't designed for me to fight upstream like this. but i'm trying to improve flow rate |
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i'm off for some yoga after the previous few posts. and i get to this bit so even the numbers, like... aren't precisely those. more the tip of an iceberg so even the numbers aren't real. they're not... real numbers this sounds like a solid hint of some sort. but maybe that sounds irrational to you. i*(dgaf) |
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magic: the gathering cont'd the functional description on one card is so complex they've had to cut multiple corners to make it even fit on there, "At the the beginning of your end, take the top card..." etc ...and with annoying questions, I manage to understand the card in, I dunno, two minutes. However, in the time it took me to decode the card, he's through over a dozen of them. some even more complex. most of them aren't this bad, but it's far from rare. and there's new lingo. and he's hardcore The Rules and i've no problem with that here except it gets into rules i didn't know about, rules i never understood, and rules that didn't exist for concepts that didn't exist... and my primary challenge, really, is not driving him mad waiting. this was round two, the draft. the first one, he's rapidly building a blue deck and hey wait! but he was right, it was faster for me to simply see it in action. even though i didn't see that yet, i shrugged and began updating the only serviceable deck i had, thinking: "i cannot remember the last time i even used this, but i am still screamingly annoyed by very specific problems i remember this having" but then i have to be quick. and i could be slow. and we'd just had lots of talk about the strategic advantage of smaller decks and i get fucking deep up my own butt calculating odds. and i could be slow oh, fuck it. lol whatever. i'm just throwing a shit-ton of cards in and lol. i think my idea can work. and i win 2/3 with this, i dunno, 80-something card red deck but this was a pre-baked thing i fully understood and was updating, against something he just threw together with some of my cards |
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doing a draft, this is a problem, though. because remember "the functional description on one card is so complex they've had to cut multiple corners to make it even fit on there" and in a draft, you open two card packs. you take a card and pass it to the other person. who has taken a card from the other pack, and passes it to you. and on you go, until their are none left. like how people pick teams in sports this is part of the depth of it all, really. not just are the cards complex like that, but now you're expected to build a deck from a bunch of random cards, where you're passing it back and forth, picking the cards in turn. like teams in sports like teams in sports, that's obviously quite a strategic thing. that you're not just trying to gank the best cards first, you're trying to develop a strategy out of what you're seeing is available... and trying to clock what your opponent's strategy might be by what cards go missing... and obviously trying to cockblock them in any way possible and how the fuck. can i keep up with this? |
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i conclude the only way i can pick cards at a rate fast enough to not drive my friend insane is: pick cards without bothering to try and understand what they are and what they do. ...and, actually? fuck yes, this is me alright. first, i am grabbing any SHINY card. they're called "foil" cards, but i've banned myself from thinking that much. SHINY. ...and FIRST CARD IN PACK. IS SHINY. grab the shiny card is the first in the pack, reducing the amount of time it takes me to pick a card even further. brill! what next? it's just a continued collage of "whatever strikes my fancy" and mmm, well, some of the card art is kind of hot, so many were chosen because i appreciated the picture. others because a word in the title of the card. the only hint of strategy, i lean towards certain colors more than others then we're down to the last five or six, and i begin to finally process the card... casting costs, even. and one is like "11 mana to cast" and fuck off, i won't last long enough to use this. then it comes back, twice, and my options are boring, so i laugh and think "lol, well, if it does go that far, this card could mean the difference" between winning and losing. so grab from an external view, i'm picking cards about the same pace as him, and there's no real hint i'm doing anything abnormal. i ignore his advice on sorting the cards and picking and he doesn't notice then, yes -- i almost. won. and the last fucking card in my hand? the 11 mana, 9/9 game winner. and if i could have lasted one. more. turn... maybe two... i would have won. then he's talking about "my strategy" and saying here's your card back and... this is my card? and "yeah, when i saw that i knew your strategy was..." he'd used some card that lets you gank a card off your opponent and didn't get to see what card he ganked. so when he played it, i didn't actually know it was my card. meanwhile, he didn't know strategy was sheer impulsiveness |
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that was picking magic cards with magick, yep. that i did so stunningly well that way he thought i had some strategy that... i still do not understand, actually. but he won because he actually knew what he was doing and that will, ultimately, always triumph. but i can come close |
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man(a). that's probably already difficult to get through. i think i'll just stow the rest suffice to say i got a surprisingly massive amount out of that sesh this is why you need to actually try ideas out regularly. [rather than endlessly tinker within a thread of bullshit] it's also shaping up like i should ban myself from writing about proper math here unless i'm totally cornered because i'm bad enough already.... and, without being able to use math notation or knowing how much i can presume someone knows... gosh, yes, that's even more of mess than usual it is quite usual for me to think, "oh, that's shit" and delete a large chunk of something i've just written. but there's a large probability that if i try to write about probability, it will probably be shit. if i write it, anyways |
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thinking stuff is easy. thinking about stuff is much harder. writing about stuff is even harder than that. then, as worse as writing about thinking about stuff is, writing about thinking about writing about stuff is worse. er. WORST? worstest. wat so when he played it, i didn't actually know it was my card. meanwhile, he didn't know strategy was sheer impulsiveness or, well, that was the nexus of it, but at this point, my impulsiveness has actually become [able to be used as] a more fluid and continuous thing, like the way you process events when you're driving a car. and i'm not even sticking to my own strategies completely, as described. that i begin thinking "maybe you could even read something about someone's strategy simply from them switching two cards around before picking some other card." sounds good. i impulsively swapped two cards. a bit later: i think i'll cut it a third in. this time, there really wasn't anything behind it other than... that feels good. proportionate in between i spend some idle moments watch him finger the cards around. but i don't consciously extract anything then we get down to that 11pt, 9/9 behemouth and i think "fuck off, the game probably won't last that long" and then it's here again and "well, you know what? if the game does go that long, this will matter" and grab. roughly, i get the sense -- a strong hunch; nothing more concrete -- that these were actually has thoughts i had. he'd rejected that card because he didn't think that long. but maybe it will, and if it does, that matters. and you can see how that would come in through the card order, seeing him fussing around out of the corner of my eye. and then come back out as "oh, that feels about right" i should note i was not trying to do anything other than keep my friend/opponent from dying of old age as i fussed over cards. i suppose i had some hope it'd do something like that. but i didn't think about it |
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if i ever make some scary spooky uncanny pick, like -- the bloody hell did he learn that from? who the fuck told him? or the more usual "i can't tell if he knows anything or not. was that a deliberate reference? how would he even know that anyways?! but fuck me this is the fifth time now" well, previous post, that's about the formula |
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seems reasonable that, by, i dunno, being like water, as bruce lee would put it... i became a mirror. he was thinking properly about his picks. he was thinking about me thinking properly about my picks. then we're a few rounds in and he's decided i have a strategy. it is, in fact, actually his strategy, since i'm just being a mirror. then i clicked back in when it got interesting. then i stopped being a mirror. and over two rounds i've made a decision for myself and ganked that card. which probably was the pick he wanted for himself next round. DARN! it's all theoretical, really. but now i have the opportunity to think this: wellll, if it is working like that... can i ever beat him? because, having both, he'll always have the best one first? and yes, it did come down to one or two turns. and that being the last card. and he's almost dead himself so, tactics! is there a way to hack the mirror and nick even more off of a clever opponent, who is projecting cleverness onto my vapid childish puckish daydreaming space cadet approach? probably need to do something other than then be a mere/or satellite dish |
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M:TG is turning complete? they're not bullshitting at all. |
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deep in the earlier pages of this thred, i once joked, "driving while weird is a pull-overable offense." the faders-to-the-red example is driving a hippie art car with thousands of strange greebles glued to its exterior; a rolling art piece. every time i see one of these going down the road, i think: you must be really cool with getting pulled over by bored cops all the time. the only more surefire way to get pulled over is to have one of your tail-lights out [so if it's a bad night to get pulled over, and your tail-light is out, don't. fucking. drive] [[ tangent: bored cops will bully some hippie basehead (wearing loud american flag regalia {adjusting his and/or her gear on a traffic island}) because this person is loud and obvious and cops look for anything out of place and harass it out of their sight; arrest it if it won't leave -- especially if they're bored ]] i think i described getting my first [and so far, only] "move along" from a cop in this thread as well. i'd pulled over in some country club parking lot to fuss with my music playlist. but it's a country club at 1am and the cop car actually emerged into this lot from somewhere deeper inside the complex. i gather he was more or less a security guard! because... nevermind i've never quite gotten pulled over for being weird in and of itself, but, yes, so many times -- a bored cop sees me and starts hovering on my bumper because he's bored and he can tell i'm at least a little weird. but then my tail light isn't out and my driving is fine and eventually this boring outlasts the weird and the cop pulls his last card. turns on the flashers. i change lanes out of his way [and/or pull aside] and he roars past. he has no reason for the lights other than it's the last thing he can do to shake loose any sort of illegal behavior that might be going on. but i appreciate being able to call 911 if i have to and i just laugh. |
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man. do they have, like... a unit on boredom at the cop academy? or a whole class? rather, how to handle boredom. to sit in a speed trap by the side of the road and wait. and wait. and maybe no one goes by for 45 minutes, and then they're a grandma 10 under the limit. human personality has a range of tolerance for this sort of thing [that varies from person to person] before the mind will literally hallucinate something wrong with some car, any car because fucking hell we've been here two hours now i think back to one of my dad's better yarns -- a cop rang the doorbell of a place his place [in the 70s] with this tale about... dad's roommate selling drugs, his other roommate a prostitute, and my dad is the pimp. or something. the woman roommate had a hippie art car. the bored cop had followed it home. eventually the household collectively realized what the cop really wanted was a date with the hippie chick owner of the art car. to defuse the situation, she went on one polite date with the cop. that was it and no one got arrested. but that's what an art car gets you ...and the crazy story he'd come up with, my dad called that "cop logic" -- when a cop comes up to you thinking you're doing... what the shit?! that's bizarre. are you joking? and the cop is not joking. the cop is just human, and he's been sitting there watching the same patch of road for two hours, and his mind has created something interesting for him to do out of sheer desperation ...do they have a whole class on how to handle that? i'm not stakeout material myself |
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Hallucinating Illegal Behavior it's not only a good album title, it's the future of AI |
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what's brilliant about being... i dunno, not a crackpot, or a kook, but -- flattering myself -- [[that guy that lived with his mum and cracked some insane planar geography or topography problem out of nowhere and they show up with a giant check, here is an award from math!! and he promptly tells them to fuck off and slams the door]] is that i'm not sitting in one corner of anything, obligated to pin something down with proof. inside my hed, meditation -- if it works, it works. if it doesn't, it doesn't. i'm always trawling for new things to try, to see if they work. since i don't have to prove shit and it either works or it don't, i can run with theories that are cobbled together [to arrive at a thermodynamic definition of metaphor, you need to phrase it in terms of lambda calculus, tiered hierarchical caching through astrocytes and other glia, my brain is a quantum computer made of meat, etc] and either it's going somewhere or it isn't. so in that spirit ~ Destruction of Brodmann area 34 results in ipsilateral anosmia. ... Loss of the ability to smell may lead to the loss of libido, but this usually does not apply to those with olfactory dysfunction at birth. that smell brings back memory like crazy, right? but if you've been smell-blind since birth, your memory will be based on [this, that, maybe all at once] instead of smell. the loss of libido is because you've been basing memories on smell since birth, sex is inherently chemical, and we're all imprinted like the lorenz ducks. and you've lost your connection to your sexual imprinting. i've never tried E but i imagine that'd be the right tool to reboot things anyways, all my previous talk about what's the index of memory, actually, well, i think it's metaphor. location? that's still a metaphor of sorts. that weird visual i got while stewing on combinatorics? that's the guts of a metaphor. or so i suspect. still haven't seen it again since |
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what is the neurological basis [definition?] of a metaphor? dfhjgfyhfgh i mean, i now have my engineering definition of consciousness [serpentine belt in an automobile], my physical definition of (human) consciousness [a quantum computer made of meat on top of a neural primate brain {on top of lizard brain blood flow direction}] and an actively gestating mathematical definition [TLDR]. still not even touching the philosophical definition, but i've gotten this far and... i have the neurological basis for "if you have to ask if it's racist, it probably is" roughly. and things like that but neurological basis of metaphor? that's just... so software and hardware all at once. so basic, but so everywhere. that it's a stone you hit early on the path and i've been jumping over it for so long it really didn't exist because, i dunno, maybe that's the within the bailiwick quantum matrix? answer, i suspect, is: "sort of, yes, both, etc" that the quantum matrix is there to analyze and optimize the mammal brain, and yes, i suspect metaphor is the grammar used for this dialogue but this is not a fully-formed theory yet |
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MRIs don't read neurons. did you think all these science studies about brain scans in humans were scanning neurons? ha! you have to take a rat brain half apart and keep it alive in a cage, hooked up to apparati to read even a bit of actual neural fire MRIs read blood flow. neural fire pushing 10ms, maybe 5 [milleseconds] and blood flow takes hundreds of milleseconds that my tiered astrocyte caching thing, that's actually the lizard brain [blood flow as a decision process]. but the lizard brain does form the basis of the mammal brain [neural fire to direct blood flow]. so if you read [lizard brain / blood flow], you get the "average" of the mammal brain. mathematically, it's more like [perhaps even somewhat literally] the [calculus] derivative of the neural mammal brain and an MRI reads this. chunkily. it uses a statistical sampling algorithm to generate a 3D image [voxels] and a few years back science realized someone got their math wrong, the algorithm is wrong, we have to go back and re-do all these brain scan science studies because it got the voxels 30% wrong and that's reading blood flow, which is, like, the layer below the mammal brain. atop which sits the quantum matrix eat my dust MRI |
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5ms. the tubules something something quantum 5ms and stable and that's within a dog whisker of eminently usable as the physical basis of the quantum matrix. this was a computer simulation, though... i need to look that up again. along with, like... oh, shit, you know what? i never checked how much penrose had here, actually. my quantum computer made of meat churns the CAM and, yes: it was a handout in a low-level class in AI by a hilarious little man [dana ballard] with the messiest OSX desktop i'd ever seen. and here's the penrose, quantum, etc. and that was a lecture and some homework. then, from there, i dunno, i've just kept tabs on it? and that simulation, 5ms, need to look that up. if penrose has already invented, and i've reinvented... some... good sign. following in the footsteps. if he's gotten it all already -- well, fuck, bugger -- but at least i'm catching up |
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Ballard (2015). Brain Computation as Hierarchical Abstraction. Cambridge, Massachusetts: MIT Press. ....holy, wow. he died in 2022. i could have sent him this thread. and that's a beautiful thought, because he's arguably to blame for it on many levels [CAM!]. but now it's too late, by two years, and that's actually rather gutting i should check out his final book, here, to see how much i've re-invented. again. but also because he'll be funny in there somehow. a tiger can't change its stripes |
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thanks for... penrose, CAM, neural oddities like the vision mask that makes your field of view upside down, the optic nerve compressing data before it runs into the brain, and... could go on. |
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i think i've actually had a useful thot about chess. when it comes to "how good am i?" the answer is: an even vaguely pro chess player would utterly destroy me, thanks. but against anyone in my usual life -- not hardcore players -- i usually win. chess is all too often viewed as this computer simulation thing. the poker aspect is disrespected. playing the man across from you. in the opening stages, first moves, it's a lot of noise. there's a lot of rote mechanical responses. nothing has happened yet; so you can't clarify your strategy. you are, by default, sitting there and waiting for your opponent to do something... stepping outside of the rote mechanics of chess opening moves. then the poker sets in: is this a strategy? is it a ruse? or is it merely a mechanical pattern i don't know yet? [this is where pro chess players would ruin me] so the one strange exception where i could really juke the odds; punch above my weight -- beat a pro player -- is if that person was my friend i knew them incredibly well. and their freaking chess science would fall aside and i'd just giggle and think "oh, you" and not fall for whatever. and then they're talking about how i used some [strategy i cannot comprehend] and they should have seen it or they would not have lost and... wait, what is that? i was simply playing you, not the game |
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if we could stick a pin in this as a metaphor ~ in life, in a situation where the details are bloody impossible to untangle, you can always just... fuck it, the people are simpler than the technical maneuvers. play your moves from nothing but innocent heart and wait for a rook to disappear. now you know, somewhat, what you are dealing with |
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who are those tiresome cunts who apply to literally hundreds of software jobs, perhaps using some $50/mo AI service? why are you doing this? do you give that little of a shit about what you spend your life on? hell, how do you even get through the day with yourself? you tiresome. cunts. i am not someone who has the patience for this shit. and software engineering is now like... unless someone parts the velvet ropes for you, you're stuck in some stupid AI coding test bullshit and eat shit. no. then even if someone does, it's eight interviews because you're fine but maybe they can get someone better, cheaper... if they stall long enough maybe you'll get more desperate on salary... and eat shit. no. so, oh, being a lawyer would be cool? and i go back and forth. in the end, i think i would be bloody superb at it, but... it wouldn't fulfill me like all my science nonsense does. maybe it would be enough, combined with the money... but then the money, to go to law school, what is that? $360k or something? i don't know. i'd have to find a good doctor to sue for malpractice or something otherwise i may never see that sort of money and screw it. i'm probably stuck with sucking software. bleh |
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i have a much more practical life hack: the stool stool i'd always read something something, humans were designed to squat 'n' poop, not sit 'n' shit. but then, don't recall something wherever, i eventually hear, around early last december: if your knees are below your hips, that totally closes the passage off. and this does so much to explain, perhaps, why i finish, and, shit... again? so i finally grabbed an amazon box and put my feet up on it as i pooped, and, wow, alright. this shit is no joke. the box has not left the bathroom, it's been perhaps five months and i should probably sort out a stool stool that isn't cardboard shitting by the toilet. |
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i suppose i can be a bit... ~ tantra yoga, loom, weave, metaphor, metaphor metaphor, weaving neural wiring, but they don't know crap about neurons. ...so it's a really best effort from... a medieval perspective? ok. let's just consume this like i do pie where i eat the filling and fuck off crust. i never even liked it... before i found out, do you know how many wicked many calories are in there? my gosh you dodge half the worst of pie by leaving it alone, sometimes more [if it's fruity and not cheesy] and people scream at me, it's the best part! and it's the worst, in a junk food sense. and i never liked it anyways? then neurology. that's better. i think brodmann areas are, like, alright, now you're almost as bad as the people obsessed with conway's life giving ever more esoteric names to shit that is increasingly... you've stopped researching; now you're a dungeons and dragons meet but really, i am just borrow neurology's ferrari. with the same fuck-the-crust attitude. i sneak out in the middle of the night and it seems, well, shit, i actually can do this? and the trouble starts when i've somehow set some mild course record, and now i might be in trouble because i wasn't supposed to be in the car in the first place. but i don't mean to say it's even a good record it's more -- oh, hell, this is elegant; i've really got something and... i'm not supposed to have an opinion here? i'm not allowed, even? that imagine the neighbor is a neurologist and it's his record you have beat. with crates of evidence. on camera. you imposter. why did you joyride the ferarri. and beat my time? the answer is luck, not giving a fuck [i was never trying to beat anyone] and freeing myself from the normal daytime rules |
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wikipedia. people talk about social media addiction, would it make sense to say i have to ban myself from wikipedia at times? no? let's watch some sanctimonious thing about jewish people stuff by/from michael cera? sure ok. but i'd prefer chess |
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i don't have, i guess.... insomnia insomnia. if i say up for two days i will conk out hard like anyone else. problem is when i don't; when i try to keep a normal 9-5 schedule. my brain does not want to sleep yet. my brain is chattering forever. we are chatting forever. we're not trying to avoid sleep, we're just... shit! again. stop it. sleep pranayama breathing and exercise helps. alcohol -- like, a nightcap, no getting smashed -- has really, i dunno, felt like a net gain? but then i'm getting older and i really do feel [slightly] better if i say fuck it entirely. but then sleeping normal hours ugh and last night i am in a hypnogogic haze, lost in Cool Band Names, Cool Gay Band Names, and... nevermind. Cody. that's a pretty fucking gay name, but how do we make it gay-er? Kody? sure. Codie? yes but that starts to lose coherency... and, honestly, i can't fucking remember most of the variations because i'm not sure they actually made any sense. i was half falling asleep finally. but somewhere in there, i think: CHODI! the xltronic guy. he seems really gay. i think his name might be cody so this is my "epics simulates an L[ol]LM" update ~ here is what fragments a distant space probe sent back from the Cool Band Name generator as it was getting sucked into the event horizon of sleep it's cool but i bought some more goon tonight. tired of not being tired |
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but not even time for that, yet. i'm just amused how... i'm pretty sure i've written that same hypnagogic up before here? e.g. that's not the first time i saw the band name generator fall into the event of sleep horizon same precise way; similar name arc. if i am delighted with anything i have trouble explaining, it's how consistent i am with stuff like this. i'm not trying at all and some almost asleep moment happens over again the same way because... well, i just do things quite consistently and wind up same place sometimes. what's delightful to me is that... oh, that's charming. i think that was almost identical. and i was half asleep. very little i could do to cheat here except on deeper subconscious levels i don't quite have access to yet |
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too consistent, though? stuck in a loop. no consistency? a random walk; still surprisingly profitable in a math sense, but... no, also no good writing this bullshit seems sort of like a compiler. rewriting sort of like linking. but this doesn't have to keep going; i need to stop and fuss about my previous conclusions for the new ones to gel. then i get disrupted and where were we? and perhaps i have to a bit again over |
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the practical, though. i tried a curious new angle with... GPS weasel; will not summarize. beyond: i've tried to use this to plan a daily agenda. its usual job is to never miss a turn on a six hour drive when i'm lost in thot, and it does this OWSUM JOB AMAZING. but trying to program my day agenda like those highway exits? fits and sparks, but overall, just... no. at peaks when i was actually focused on... meditation like you'd get on a big wave with some fighting video game like street fighter... i would be able to GPS weasel enough day-planner stuff that it felt like: OK, this can work, but it isn't going to be quite the same way that i use it in limited ways all the damn time: "refill the water pitcher next time in the kitchen" and i'm holding the image in my mind firmly and there i am in the kitchen with this image and refill the pitcher and this happens fine. generalization, though... i can train myself to "refill the pitcher every time" but "refill the pitcher at the optimal time" is something that requires conscious thought; it depends very much on the circumstances of the day and the hour. so trying to GPS weasel this turns around and says: no, this is a new weasel -- refill the pitcher at the right time weasel. ...and, again, this can be done. the pitcher gets filled at the right intervals. but only because it's my house and my pitcher and i don't have roommates fucking with my weird machines |
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recently, however ~ i was meditating one morning, and i'm fresh off that whole "entanglement" tip, and i think: i have a new way to do this, perhaps. that the issue is that "do the dishes" is this multi-stage thing involving rinsing, loading, and -- wait, we forgot we need to unload the already clean dishes. and there it is. we can't just GPS weasel "do the dishes, laundry, reply to that email" because we get tangled up in "reply to that email means checking on that thing first" then "we're thirsty and there are no glasses and we didn't do the dishes leads to "there's some clean ones unloaded into the dishwasher" and this is how i find myself apologizing about how it took 45 minutes to reply to an email because i was thirsty and the dishwasher was unloaded and this, alone. can you blame me for be a dedicated self-hacker? i fucking need it to manage |
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so i'm meditating, and, ok, this is the problem -- i'm trying to automate things that have all these little niggles i need to solve consciously, and i've not planned for them. that, in fact, trying to sort them out into a coherent agenda is even a fucking nightmare because if i take a shower right after putting on the laundry, the water won't be hot, but then the dishwasher too, and that takes two hours, and i'm thirsty, should i run the dishwasher or take a shower? and fuck the order. this is the issue. all these things need to be done. and they are all their own things. so i need to GPS weasel, like... oh... and i sit there, meditating, first thing in the morning... i'm in the kitchen. i'm looking at the stuff needing doing. i'm seeing: oh, this depends on that first. then i'm in my office, i'm checking on the thing, oh, it depends on the other thing. then... etc etc and rather than try and program it in an order like highway turns, i just spazzily fly all over my house, my office, my emails in my head, and think about i need to do, and find these little sub-tasks and then i just let my body go and... fuck, this works! that somehow [continuing the above for sake of example] i have unloaded the dishwasher before i am thirsty, it's running as i reply to the email in a timely manner, and by the time that's in dryer phase i wander off for a shower and that works fine and wow! everything is like... THIS IS HOW I HAVE ALWAYS WANTED IT TO WORK! i feel so functional! ...and then it ran out of road. i had only done this as an experiment; i started getting into complex tasks i hadn't prepped in meditation. and i'm getting tangled. and shit sorry i lost about the email i lost track of time vacuuming i have been too busy with work n stuff, to try it again, actually -- but this is how GPS weasel itself started. this is hard, but it... worked? it fucking worked? and it'll get easier |
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> spheres are nagging at me. feels exactly the same as the nagging feeling you get when you worry you've left your car unlocked, and it progresses to the feeling that happens right as you begin to realize your coffee is absent because it's on your roof... “I did my PhD in France on making a spherical shell swim. To make it swim, we were making it collapse. It moved like a [inverted] jellyfish,” says Adel Djellouli, a researcher at Bertoldi Group, Harvard University, and the lead author of the study. “I told my boss, 'hey, what if I put this sphere in a syringe and increase the pressure?' He said it was not an interesting idea and that this wouldn’t do anything,” Djellouli claims. But a few years and a couple of rejections later, Djellouli met Benjamin Gorissen, a professor of mechanical engineering at the University of Leuven, Belgium, who shared his interests. “I could do the experiments, he could do the simulations, so we thought we could propose something together,” Djellouli says. Thus, Djellouli’s rubber sphere finally got into the syringe. And results were quite unexpected. |
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have you ever left the window open when you're asleep, and then it starts raining, and you have this dream about a waterpark or getting firehosed or something? but it's just rain misting in through the window, interpreted through a dream? it was like that. i was lost in thot, and the waitress was eyeing me if i'm ready for another pint, and it intrudes upon me being lost in in thot... precisely like that. and, no, i'm good for a moment. but was very beautiful to catch it bleeding through like that; thanks anyways |
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i mean, that was good shit. good salad for sitting at the bar with beer and fries in addition to the above, there was the moment i heard i heard a louTHONK wat? and i turn around, and vaguely, catch something that is like... keyword: derp but it was just some bit of derp i caught out of the corner of my eye in addition to the sound of what could only be a 125-185lb woman plowing into the door as if it ain't. then i catch helicopter chatter -- she didn't see it at all -- kept going -- yep, i caught the aura of drugs, that woman might well have been tripping balls then it's a slow night but gradually heating up. the barback is bored. his buddy has showed up. they might have been as old as i am; they were talking about slim shady. didn't look. but they're mostly like... "someone on facebook" then "like four shots before a red sox game" and i think ~"oh i guess 'pre-gaming' literally is a sports thing, from getting wasted before you go to the sporting event -- to get even more wasted" and this the sort of bar chatter that's kind of man bites dog. very yawn. but the woman and the door. i'm glad i didn't catch much but the sound and then couldn't be arsed to look any further; just guess based on everyone chattering. like a bunch of old marketing shits trying to figure out what the kids like these days |
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the city was actually quite quiet, carwise... but, prime parking choice was filled up. i made a snap decision not planned upon to park illegally a bit of the way down. ran in with my box and my screwdriver. getting in was no hassle, no temperature check. but the elevator does not give me a choice of floor, it takes me to the wrong floor, and all the doors are locked. i start cursing audibly. then i take the elevator down to the proper floor, and my key card works i stumbled on this fragment just now. going into my former 9-5 office place to "clear out my stuff" but it's this post-apocalyptic feeling of, like, "they're all gone now" and "absolutely no one will give a shit if you utterly rob the bin of discarded USB dongles like watmm's Fred McGriff robbing Taco Bell of their fire sass" to this day i regret not stacking another LCD monitor on top of the one i grabbed, like a double whopper. but i was illegally parked and the apocalypse is here and let's not push it with boston cops |
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