Before writing yesterday I ended up losing my 2gig USB thumb drive. This is the drive that all of my stuff is on. All of it. Not just SOME of it. Yes I make backups, but it’s time to make more frequent backups.

Holee fuck I nearly had an aneurysm.

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Reading through my work, I’m impressed that it’s coming so coherently to me. I keep on going through my head: why didn’t I do this before? Why is this happening now? Bottomline, it’s the fucking doubt that we call carry with us day-in, day-out that has prevented me.

In fact, after establishing the reading I have made regarding patterns, I’m going to try to implement new patterns on my brain - behaviorally and physically. Should be an entertaining situation.

Pages written since last post: 5-7

I finished Dean Hamer’s the God Gene with an amount of gnashing of teeth. The book is light and easy to read, and seemingly logical until the last two chapters. I’ve begun to tire of books that get to their salient point in the first three chapters and then spend the rest of book not taking the logic further.

The God Gene is exactly one of these books. He proposes his hypothesis, and then goes to prove it. Well, the proof is, in my opinion, as logic as anyone can get it without a experimental sandbox that allows 200,000 years to pass in a second. However, once his final proof has been implemented, he doesn’t take the VMAT2 gene for a ride.

If we are godcoded, where does it take us? Outside the “god exists or doesn’t exist” argument, which Hamer refuses to tackle - a proof such as this could be used as a chain saw - but then he doesn’t take even the most logical discussions that are dealing with with genetic engineering today: should we allow this gene to continue self-propagation?

Importantly, the only tease he does deliver on is separate VMAT2 from religion - VMAT2 is supposed to make us susceptible to religious experiences, to feeling at one-with-the-universe. But he doesn’t address what causes religious asshatosity - in short, he fucking wimps out.

As a man who’s put his entire career at risk by publishing in the field of genetics challenging entire political parties’ dogma, he’s remarkably shy about not committing to the most obvious conclusions of his study. In short, it’s an oriental massage without a happy ending.

My Happy Ending
If there’s a gene that makes someone superiorly empathic with the world, one that transforms a persons behavior from the greedy, selfish cow-consumers that we are into caring entities who want to improve the all-life’s conditions, then why do we have those that believe it’s ok to kill?

Step into my thought experiment:
Once upon a time, Bob was just an average everyday man but after a vicious infection, he suffered from a fever that left him delirious for a day or two. In that delirium, his god gene fired off and he fever-dreamt that he could walk a new path and improved the world - that if other people followed him, the world would be a better place. God, you see, told Bob that by not eating omega-3 and omega-6 fatty acids, the world would be a better place.

Once Bob returned to something that passed for sanity, he thought, “Wow, I gotta tell everyone about my excellent experience.” Bob’s friends listened - well, most wrote him off as a looney, but one or two listened and followed his suggestions. Bob, tho, is a man with a mission and goes forth and spreads the good word about not eating fatty acids. Bob anoints himself as the Great Bobbolama and stops eating. Bob becomes thin, lean and driven with his new diet - he writes a book, creates a website, markets himself effectively. Proceeds from his book, allows him to travel and talk to more people, and everywhere he goes, he’s deliriously thin from the lack of food.

Others see this optimistic guy, who’s traveling and smiling all the time and says, “Wow, he’s so successful.” Some media mogul with a talk show has a last minute opening in her schedule, and lacking for someone credible, invites Bob on. His book hits the markets’ top ten list and suddenly the Great Bobbolama’s a millionaire with an entire industry of people who aren’t eating essential amino acids.

Fat people, who really have no intention of losing weight, buy the book for a brief emotional warm fuzzy feelgood experience. Some of them lose weight for a variety or reasons, but in their mind, the book has made them a better person. These thin and smiling people are plastered on billboards all around the world. One appears to have a modicum of talent and parents stupid enough to sign a contract: she changes her name to Jennifree and a new media teen age popstarlet is born.

And then, some scientist publishes a book countering Bob’s Evil Amino Acid fever-addled theory, informing the world that starving one’s self is not a diet but will kill you. The thin people who aren’t dead yet denounce the scientist, the media invites pundits from both sides, the debate heats up. A has-been teenage media starlet is hospitalized and publicly warns society not to follow Great Bobbolama’s words.

The Great Bobbolama releases a press release inferring Jennifree, who was once his chosen follower, is now a heretic to the cause. Some other no-name schlep, who has been pudgy all his life, decides that killing Jennifree is the only way to get Jodie Foster to notice him.

Bob denounces schleps’ actions, but because he’s stammering from the lack of nutrition, stammers at a crucial moment which the media interprets that he’s secretly pushing his followers to kill non-Bobbite believers. Suddenly the hordes who have starved themselves into stupidity transform into suicidal deathtards bent on destroying all of those that challenge the Great Bobbolama’s words.

The Great Bobbolama, facing a choice of skinny death or surviving as a rich fucking cult leader, decides that sneaking a cheeseburger or two on the side is worth the cause. He officially, and irrevocably denies the deathtard activity because it’s damaging his sales (he’s moved onto an entire line of “The Great Bobbolama Says…” selfhelp books, with videos and celebrity endorsments) - but the damage is done. The cult splinters: the peaceful orthodoxy starvationists and the “I may not be fat, but I’m more loyal than you” aggression monkeys. Both are convinced that they are the one-true-followers of the Great Bobbolama.

After years of aggressive denouncements, and deaths of more media starlets, the Great Bobbolama announces he’s going to mend the rift between the two schisms. The orthodoxy, who’ve literally been starving for this fucker, feel betrayed, and decide it’s better that the Bobbolama die than to kiss and makeup with the aggression monkeys. So, on the eve of the Great Bobbolama’s attempt to heal the rift, his own preisthood kills him, pointing fingers at the other side.

The Power of Belief
I propose that the god gene triggers when a person needs something irrational to believe in when his physical and emotional condition causes himself to doubt the reason he exists. If this irrationality - either denial, just simple stupidity - allows one to appear successful, then others will imitate his/her success. The act of imitation places the original as a prime mover and therefore a position of authority. The pattern of successful branding is predictably repeatable, thus there will be followers. Since followers are human, language imprecise, and half the people in this world are below average intelligence, and people get off on telling other people what to do: some followers will do really stupid things like kill people.

Geez, that was simple - why couldn’t Hamer taken a chapter to say that?

So, after my last post, I’ve been sick, sick and tired, tired, and pissed off. In short, desperately looking for a job so much so that I’m willing to talk to recruiters. I am completely out of the swing of new job hunting.

My writing is suffering too. Paragraphs rather than pages. It’s not writers’ block, it’s basic exhaustion and prioritization. I’ve triple booked my social calendar. Candle’s burning at both ends, the middle and I’m thinking about throwing the whole damn ball of wax into the microwave.

The Ego
So I keep circling around the idea of the Engine of Prediction’s thesis: that intelligence drives it’s own existence, and we’re lucky and unlucky that we’re the biggest perpetrators of intelligence. I’m reading books from Dennett, Hamer, and Hawkins. The issue is that when I read their books, I feel incredibly dwarfed by their accomplishments.

Combine that with the job/career, and it makes for a pretty sucky week.

Work it through
So, I’m struggling with what I see as “inevitability.” True academia would talk about possibilities, potential events that MAY happen. That’s shit. There are certain parts of cultural structures that make things inevitable: the drive to survive - either for an organism or a cultural artifact (aka “religion”, “brand”, “corporation”) - that cause an unethical Machiavellian calculus justifying immoral actions of the participant(s).

This equation causes poor choices: we either think we have no choice, or that our sacrificial choice will cause a remarkable long shot, a soulful gamble, where we believe that if we throw ourselves on our swords, the world will change with our selfless acts.

What crap. The so-called selfless act is in itself a meme - one that governs our behavior. We perform the act, such as working late at the expense of our personal lives, - or pursuing a loved one who spurns us at the expense of our [emotional wellbeing] - suffering in pursuit of a higher cause: honor or truth or love. Our payoff is an emotional stroke that says “You did your best” - like denial, our grief over a situation.

Hamer’s work discusses the God Gene as a biomechanical device that gives us optimism. I wonder if there’s a martyrdom gene that governs our behavior. There’s definitely a martyrdom meme, we wouldn’t have messiahs without it - but a martyrdom gene where a single unit sacrifices his or her wellbeing for the good of the culture (not the group - the culture).

Oh Unholee Orgasmatronics
Warren Ellis swings his large media johnson again: Porno for Terrorist Pilots. So our city’s concrete is flesh that needs to be rendered by explosions… or something. Totally not safe for work, but the logic of feminine sexuality being destroyed by terrorist planes.

I’m strangely reminded of Laurie Anderson’s Mach 20, which has Japanese sperm whales inseminating the California coastline at a high rate of speed.

It’s a psychological event of some sort - our brains are being inseminated by another culture, one hostile to sexual imagery that they must destroy it. I find myself oddly eroticized by the video.

Pages since last post: 1… ok, 6 paragraphs. grumble

I don’t. I love my American troops. But I’m tired of Iraq, and I’m tired of this administration. After listening to a testimony about how we built our Baghdad embassy, which I found here at Suicide Girls (one of the best websites out there). Congrats, America, you’re slavers once again!

We have invaded and further destabilized an entire region. We have created an entire growth industry of religious deathtard mercenaries. We’ve completely fucked our monetary future.

Worst of all, at the edge of the opportunity for women and black men, we have two fucking poseurs wearing “minority suits” - Obama and Clinton won’t do shit to change anything other than pull out of Iraq.

In my mind, I know that everything changes, it gets worse and better, waxes and wanes. But I don’t think it’s going to get a lot better any time soon.

Pages written since my last post: 12 - part of chapters 1 and 2.

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heh

As much as I love Civ games, I miss two of them sorely: Master of Orion and Master of Magic. Both of these old Microprose games were the dog’s bollocks. After years of games, nothing’s come close to being a good game and I believe it’s for the same reason. In the old days, you had restrictions on programming that caused the developer to cut out ALL extraneous bullshit.

In Master of Orion, you control a civilization race and attempt to take over the galaxy. The limitation was that the more powerful you got, the more likely an evil race of alien creatures would come and annihilate your colonies, eventually leading to a big confrontation.

Every game since then that has tried to inherit the title has been mired in the depth of reality, not realizing this is a game. Galactic Civilizations over at Stardock is the closest inheritor to Master of Orion, but even so it’s got a 1 ticket to win strategy that many civ games have.

[Hint: throw all the race configuration points into Morale and tax the fuck out of your peeps until money’s coming out your ears. While growing your culture, tech-invest in Planetary Defense and troops. If you break the tech curve, it’s over for the AI races.]

Master of Magic is Civ with mages. Very powerful mages. Sorta like the CCG game only less expensive to win at. Might and Magic is the worse, palest imitator.

Now, with the RTS imitator, there’s no game that will follow behind it. So many players are about the agressive win vs. the long term sandbox, lost in meandering thought games. The market has died.

Sad, sad, sad….

For a while now, I’ve been following the talks over at Ted.com. I honestly don’t care why Teddites are doing what they are doing, but they are doing COOL things. Their talks are a little more and a little less than cutting edge - and they are wise, innovative, and probably some of the best efforts to mass communicate excellent achievements that occur in today’s society.

Ted has shocked me, like with the computer interface or raw data analysis demos, and it’s humbled me, especially when listening to the successes in Africa, their long climb from destruction. The most salient has been Jeff Hawkins Discussion about a Real Brain Theory. Hawkins is the genius behind handheld computing, in my opinion, and while he’s always going to known for that, unless his Redwood Center for Theoretical Neuroscience is able to achieve what he expects to achieve.

If it does, we’ll be in a wonderfully new wide world that will make life much better.

Alan Turing, once he applied some thought to it, basically made an implied behavior - effectively, if we can’t detect a difference between real intelligence and artificial or mechanical intelligence, then there’s no difference. This is a cheap shot, but a valuable cheap shot - if you can’t tell the difference between synthetic and real diamonds, then they are the same thing.

So that’s the goal, but what are the objectives? What’s the steps to achieve the goal? Hawkins has a plan - it’s of course, not the only plan, but he’s been the only one I’ve heard on in the last 4 years to bring something new in my opinion. Maybe I haven’t been reading the right literature, but it was great to stumble across this Ted Talk by Jeff Hawkins.

If you think about it, without computers, we never had a physical representation for Intelligence. Animals are obviously not as intelligent as us. Tractors, factories, mountains, weather, river… none of these things are something that compare to intelligence as we know it. We’ve had no models - until some guy got a railroad spike driven through his head and suddenly behavior & brains was inextricably linked. Since then, we’ve learned a hell of a lot more. The closest thing that comes to my mind is a book - but books “remember”, but the don’t think.

However, in fiction - and the odd religious text, books predict a future, or a “possible future” - except for escapist fiction (fantasy).

Computers, from games to spreadsheets, are prediction engines. Right now they are crude core functionality of input-output. This brings me back to Jeff Hawkins. Our brains are not computers with memory, or books, but prediction engines. We create the reality by embracing, learning, modeling and predicting - over time, our predictions become more accurate. We change our economy, fashion and lifestyle through predictions - from educated guesses to inventions.

More importantly, it doesn’t appear to be all that hard to understand after seeing some examples.

Amazingly, I’m finding the time to write a blog - I’ve missed this for several months now. Basically, work has taken over my life, but I’m making the effort to get back into my game design and writing work. What a monster: effectively, I’m designing - on top of SAP - a multiple contract control module for driving pricing and sourcing for a multi-billion dollar company. Love the work, but DAMN, it sucks at times because of the no-life aspect.

Simply amazing. Opening up a jar of peanut butter is the same as millions of years of time passing in the world’s environment.

Over a billion experiments over a hundred years. And the food industry depends that life doesn’t occur.

Amazing. A little bit of knowledge is heinously dangerous.

Jump to DevilDucky to see it

I don’t give a shit about the third of the trinity. Just today, Pope Republican the Rightwinger has announced Limbo is no longer in the doctrine, and that all those little children that have been punished waiting outside the doors of heaven and hell, now magically have been ushered inside the door.

For what it’s worth, I think Christianity has lost one of it’s most potent memes to enslave the minds of people - you must SUFFER for your [made-up, hokus-pocus] Religion, or it holds no power over you. No one used to be safe without baptism and obeying the clergy. Now… the innocent children have an out.

So, I urge you to take the Blasphemy Challenge and lift the mental shackles.

Like this woman has, or this guy, or this dog. Or this thoughtfully edited declaration.

What’s really sad is that I’ve found out about this 5 months after it occured.

And when you’re done, take a further step and declare yourself Bright!