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42 |
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i like to think its a answer that is relative to each one of us rather than a universal truth |
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ask me the day i die |
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i imagined clint eastwood saying that |
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now hold on. who said there was one. cite your source |
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do you believe in the afterlife? |
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apparently it's just a game and the goal is to win. all man made rules are arbitrary and designed to stifle competition. corruption is the only true way to advance. the meaning? well, it's whatever value you assign to it, i suppose. life is only as complicated as you make it to be. have as much fun as you can until you're dead or in jail. do what thou will and shit. why are we here? sex |
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i believe in the power of american natives |
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i believe in the power of the almighty dollar, and american natives run a fine casino. they tap into the power of their ancestral land (see wMw rant on the concept of property, imagine a rant in which i describe sacred hills were regarded as nature's property and don't step on that shit if you don't want to get stoned). i more or less suspect i'm a strange rippling loop of information like that douglas chap wrote in the book i haven't read. GEB: everyone has this on their shelf, but no one has read it. it's up there with stephen wolfram's "a new kind of science" anyways, i was wondering how long i'd last: "how many more years do i have?" and the notion layers spat out: seventy. immediately i am arguing with it: "and then into a computer." but it's not a notion, it's me wanting it to be a notion. so i ask the notions: "and then into a computer...?" question mark. i get back static. noise. "yesnomaybe" except all at once. i take this as a "to be determined," but i'll take that over a solid "no." seventy is also a guesstimate, i'm sure. also tinged with hope; i'm qually sure. but i do have the dim sort of ray kurzweil daft notion that i'll escape this pile of meat right as it expires. in the nick of time. buddhist monks and martial arts movies do have this thing about a man's dying breath |
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i think the ironic thing about ray kurzweil is that he is probably going to die sooner than he thinks from all the constant worrying and vitamin injections, trying to stave off his own mortality. |
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i know. it's hilarious but also sad. it goes to a truth, you can't get too attached to an idea. clinging to it can become an engine of stupidity that actually takes you further away. the best attitude is: well... perhaps... maybe... if i'm lucky..... true story: i almost met ray kurzweil once. it was the first dot com wave, before the first crash... but then, right up in the middle of it. before that, though, ray kurzweil had a solid business being on the board of directors of dot com startups. he'd rustle up other millionaires that oracle bought sun microsystems from and they'd throw two million into the company. for this service, ray got ten percent. or something. then he'd show up once every other month for a meeting. i worked down the hall in IT, and one day i spotted him outside the conference room, yakking on his phone. i sixteen and a long ways away from the restraint and tact i have now, but i knew that running up to him and pestering him about synthesizers would need to happen after he hung up the phone. he never did. i kept an eye -- he talked the whole interlude on the thing, walked back into the conference room -- still talking -- and i haven't spotted him since. i have to admit, a part of me enjoys giggling at him. he'll pay for denying me a conversation about synths |
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another myth is that smart people don't do dumb things because they're smart. sure, they pass on 90% of potentially stupid things they could do.... but then, they're completely oblivious to the 10% that skirts by, because they've convinced themselves they're too smart to do anything stupid i was always too weird and dysfunctional to develop this delusion; i had to make up completely different delusions to get by |
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he probably has quite a stressful life, also having a mobile phone to his head for long periods cant be a good thing |
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with age and hindsight, i respect what he brought to the table, back then, in that moment in time: connections. money. his job was to get me paid, and that money went into my first solid synth: a prophet vs. i got the job because a family friend worked there and i was "good with computers" and that sort nepotism non-position might not have been there if kurzweil hadn't been so adept and suckering people into signing checks. and then i wouldn't have had a prophet vs.... but, yes, the encounter left me a tad butthurt. i took it a bit personally. i suppose i still would. time is money, and some peoples' time is worth more than others. even then, i feel i'm worth it. if it happened to me today i'd be annoyed but not butthurt. modest improvements in life skills, that's what i'm going for here |
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some of the things he says make you wonder if he is actually that intelligent or just good at maths |
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i didn't actually watch the video. should i? i'd rather hear bill joy, even though i fucking hate vi. emacs all the way anyways (paraphrasing both RA Wilson and John Walker of Fourmilab) futurism is a difficult game. you make lots of predictions; most are wrong. if even a few are correct, that's pretty darn good -- espectially if you got it ten or twenty years out. getting out there means trying out lots of wild ideas. some of them will be real and some of them will be real crap. best i figure, you have to take both seriously. you know, be willing to enthusiasticly make an ass of yourself at various keynote speeches for which you were paid $500k |
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with more nuanced eyes, i'm not sure ray and i would get along. more my sort is the guy, judging from the . i wouldn't pester him about music, though... i'm pretty sure my car's whole computer gizmo tree is running VxWorks, and i'd be bothering him about embedded systems instead of music |
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re: botched lazy_link: |
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i'm not sure if it's pretentious or sharp that i have a list of obscure tech millionaires in my head and i've sorted out which of them would be worth hanging out with. i guess i figure all it takes is something like JFK being the usual clusterfuck to make it happen |
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would i chat up richard m. stallman in an airport terminal? it would depend on how long he'd been there. after eight hours stuck at JFK after customs causes you to miss your connecting flight, just about anyone smells, and, well... fill in the blanks |
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i found out about VxWorks trying to get a clue about the deep guts of my car's computer systems and then i'm looking at the history, the founders' web presence and hobby photography, and oh: he's done a pink floyd box set. he likes to canoe. let's make a note of his face i give myself grief for wandering wikipedia and the web like this, but not too much. the meaning of life is random-walking on wikipedia until you've found the answers to everything |
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you seem naturally very curious about stuff i admire that in a person, i know people who just have no inclination to be interested about anything, i find it infuriating, i cant comprehend how they think i suppose |
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Lame |
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i get totally smacked out on wikipedia. red hot chili peppers were all "the teenage bride with the baby inside gettin' high on information" before wikipeda; before the internet. prescient, along with the brickwall compression that Californication heralded/inflicted |
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#Rick Rubin |
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I read some interesting thoughts about this subject a while ago. Science asks about the cause, while myths ask or explain the intention (meaning or goal) of life. But the diffrence is not as clear cut as something. Biology, also asks about the function of certain organs. For example the function of the pancreas is to produce Insulin. Strangly however, Biology does not ask what the function of humans (the whole organism), is in this world. I have no clue what the meaning of life is but i guess, a better question would be what we, or the single person should do while they are alive. What are you going to do today, next week or next year, and will you be able to accomplish your plans? What person do you want to be? Etc. these questions, tho a bit lame, could be more helpful. |
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the purpose of life is hugs, lasagne, and funny jokes betwen good friends |
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purpose, meaning, whatevs |
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