Archive for the ‘Philosophy’ Category

If you’ve already conceived the perfect machine, to meet the perfect ends.

March 18, 2007

If you’ve already conceived the perfect machine, to meet the perfect ends.

Hypothetically speaking, supposing there was a small boy who one day while taking his toys apart realized or suddenly ‘got a lot closer to’ the reasons and potential in what he was doing. He had an immediate sense that time machines could be fun, and so, sitting on his bedroom floor amidst a few constituent parts of various toys, began to apply himself, that part of himself that perhaps a quantum theorist might employ, yes, he began to use the faculty of mind that can throw something up, see what other aspects ‘tickle’ it, introduce this or that and bear witness to an interesting thought experiment.
What he arrived at, disregarding the nuts and bolts on the floor, as they were mere catalysts, was the rudimentary but very real manifestation of a time machine.
He hadn’t built anything of course, hadn’t even any ‘math’ to show any-one (he was 5 years old), but it is safe to say, all the other ingredients had been perfectly employed.
What made his invention real and just what had manifested?
Nothing, and as the afternoon went on, so did his profound and exciting sense of discovery taper off into nothing.(especially when his mum called him down for tea)
Now, I wonder if anyone can relate to a couple of interesting features of that story…

1. The ability and use of an abstracted part of intelligence.
2. The sense of arrival at a very interesting occurrence.
3. (ok ok, there was a third one), The moving away from the previous two features and the wondering if there was anything worthwhile or that he could integrate.

Perhaps these computer models that we demand accuracy of so that when we press run, do their thing as if in the real world, are analogous, that is just the same as our brains when we set them off on tasks in our own abstract worlds.
I hope one day we’ll be able to capture those moments, at least enough to be able to convey them in exactly the same ‘light’ we saw them in.
I can almost hear Tesla saying “now there’s a clue”.
© Bulla the speng


ooh yeah

March 10, 2007

The brain thinks it knows,
The mind knows it thinks. ooh yeah

cupping the balls of my generation in my hands

March 2, 2007

I was reading the writings of another writer recently. He made an interesting statement, i quote ; “Young people today, have only the vaguest notion that they have been cheated out of something..they don’t know what it is”….perhaps it is the ability to think coherently for themselves.A more encompassing realisation of (probably) quite a significant number of our new-teen-sentients though will perhaps be this.. “I feel more at odds with the ‘world’, the more i experience it.” It is a luxury born of modern living- ‘civilisation’, that enables a person to have such ‘thoughts’ without soon getting a rock in the head from the neighbouring tribe and backpedalling to their cave or fighting. Either way, the thought,the question, the spark is extinguished, disintegrated and the thinker is just reacting fairly automatically as any threatened person would.-
These days, when it comes to open-thinking, and contemplation, reflection etc, we are inclined (at various cut off points), to cease from ‘navel staring’ , ‘pipe dreaming’ , ‘copping out’, the definition has changed and the value is lost. We interrupt ourselves very well these days with those metaphoric rocks, I wonder how many people can see the moments when this happens.
It seems to me that a lot of people don’t even know what they are being distracted from anymore.
They spin and bounce like pinballs, sometimes winning points, sometimes disappearing down some dark scary void, only to be re-loaded and shot back out into the game.
Some people can see the game, with it’s walled boundaries, springs, flippers and points system, and will have no part in it. Others, perhaps busy profiting or lost in some entropic spin will play their part, eagerly or choicelessly until the energy is gone..thermodynamic law will ensure they are back in the game soon enough, scoring new points as they spin and bounce around, without a hint of objective thought. What is the alternative? I hear a good question when i know one.. If you’ve seen 2001, you’ll know the caveman who wanted to know, didn’t have to sit it out for too long before a mysterious object appeared, perplexing him and causing a disturbing hum amongst his tribe.
Disregarding all associations with present day ‘group bad-trips’ around your local hills, it is possible to transpose the ‘2001’ example into any suitable little nut-shell you like. Truly confounding stuff is so soon wreathed in conjecture (by ourselves and our censors), that it is seen as to be birthed from the same cloudy pool of fancy that would sate any idiot. People don’t so much get ‘up-in-arms’, these days, as press the flipper buttons harder while they play the game harder, the only game they know, and if something comes along to distract them, it will cause a stir (2001). The thrown bone has landed, plonk, and is still a bone, and the spaceship is out of reach to the many hysteric and frenzied primitives, who have their eyes on the earthly prize.

Being the Adventures of a depressed maniac and how he got that way.

March 2, 2007

Once upon a time in a land not blessed with the usual green trees, rolling hills or indeed any peaceful imagery at all, existed a forlorn, lovesick hermit who was adept at feeling sorry for himself.Today felt gloomier than usual for the hermit as he pondered futility while gnawing on some rock.With breakfast eaten,he was ready to begin the days’ activity of holler-chanting, a technique he had himself pioneered that involved amongst other recitations, such chants as;”oh god it’s so terrible” and “why me” and usually by lunchtime reaching his ‘favourite’ one;”I am just an utterly useless nob-ratchet”, which he liked to say at least a couple of hundred times or until his jaw ached.
He was careful when walking to the empty well he kept for disappointment purposes to keep his head down and his arms flat to his sides, adopting this posture allowed him to maintain a satisfactory air of hopelessness.Just before reaching the well, he would allow his head to rise a few inches in hopeful anticipation of having his intolerable thirst quenched,then he would arrive and look down into the empty well, sigh and toss one of his precious coins into the dry black void.He never made a wish,instead he used those few silent coin dropping moments to ponder the loss of his savings.

He never made a wish, instead he used those few silent coin falling moments to ponder the loss of his savings, this truth was always punctuated by the sound of coin landing upon coins, somewhere far below and out of reach. He once paid an artist much money to render his face as ugly and self deprecating as possible and the portrait now hangs from his cave wall, although it is difficult to see, even in contrast to the many bat droppings that surround it. It is as he likes to say “testament to my overall bad lot in life” He rarely grants an interview, the hermit, but when he does he goes out of his way to offer comfort and luxury to the visiting journalist, while he sits, suitably juxtaposed upon a jagged rock, beneath a dripping stalactite snivelling and mumbling almost incoherently while the journalist shorthands all he or she can de-cipher. Nothing is elucidated to the hermit, instead, as soon as he realises he is ‘on to something’, he casts as much doubt as he can upon the thought and then puts it in a “dark and confusing place”, his “pot of entropy”, thus he ensures that all his thought energy is wasted and nullified. He is in short, a waste of space, and by his own pathetic admission, too cowardly for suicide. So there he is, in part, the hermit man, incomplete fool, inept idiot, failed crusader of the psyche, the more the monikers mount up,the more he goes down,he likes it that way.