I'm aggressive, impatient, lazy and selfish. But at least I'm clean; I took a shower this morning. I've discovered that I don't really have to wash my clothes if I take a shower that day.
I have almost no energy today. I think I'll take tomorrow off from blogging. I've been writing longer than usual blogs lately, and this might be cumulatively draining. I moved the oil painting I'm working on upstairs, because it wasn't drying at all in the basement. It's been down there for about a week now, and the paint is just as wet as when I first squeezed it out of the tubes. I blame the Maryland summer. Humidity is the worst thing, ever. I dont know how or why anyone tolerates it. I think its because they're so dumb and ugly. People are generally dumb and ugly.
The ancient philosophers asked. 'is there a relationship between what is dumb and what is ugly?' actually, what they asked was 'is there a relationship between what is good and what is beautiful?' I would say that they need to define their terms.
beautiful - Having qualities that delight the senses, especially the sense of sight.
good - Of moral excellence; upright.
I smell trouble with these definitions.
What does it mean to delight the senses? That one experiences pleasant emotions, something like happiness, when one takes in certain perceptual stimuli? When I beat off to internet porn, is that beauty? How about when I eat a gallon of ice cream? If I experience pleasure, can I assume that its root cause was a perception that I then experienced as delightful?
'Beauty' certainly joins the set of problem words, along with 'god' and 'soul.' I wonder if children hear their parents refer to a bright sunny day as 'a beautiful day,' or a patch of brightly colored, healthy flowers as 'beautiful,' and this has kind of a dumbing-down effect in that it discourages more meaningful descriptions of these things. Then, the children see a blue sky, low humidity, light breeze, temperature of about 70 degrees, and they refer to the thing having these quantities as a 'beautiful day.' 'beautiful' refers to days with this certain set of objective qualities, that are also subjectively experienced as pleasurable. I've seen people exclaim 'what a beautiful day!' and they're usually smiling. Whereas for me, the most I can manage is 'it's a pleasant day' while looking around and squinting. The day might be 70 degrees, low humidity, blue sky, etc, but these qualities don't overwhelm me with enough pleasure to spout a word such as 'beautiful.' I think there might be something wrong with my ability to experience pleasure, except in eating. That's the only hope I have for something to be 'beautiful' -- when I'm stuffing myself to the gills. I think I'm going to go seek out some beauty later on today at ricky's rice bowl.
I find things to be satisfying for reasons other than their being 'beautiful.' I find people attractive, ie sexually appealing, young, healthy, slender, wealthy, etc, or I like music because it has an interesting melody, using particular intervals that I like. I tend to gravitate towards tunes that contrast wide intervals with very small ones, or that are based around the guitar, because I'm familiar with it and understand what it takes to produce those noises. I'm also familiar with music theory, and the structures it lays down. I tend to prefer music that stretches the boundaries of those conventions, but rather flirts with them rather than leaves them entirely (unless I'm fairly unfamiliar with the structures themselves, such as oriental music forms). I like some pattern-recognition, but it should be graced with some challenges of these patterns. I like art that is big and colorful, and looks sort of slapped down on the canvas, because subtlety is boring to me. Painstaking chiaroscuro is boring to me -- it screams of anal retention. I like the emotional violence and passion of the artist to be conveyed with big, glaring shapes and colors. I like art to beat me up. I like spicy food, largely because of the endorphin reaction to the chemical burn in my mouth, and because the spice makes my mouth water, fooling me into thinking I'm hungrier than I actually am. I don't care for bland food, such as japanese or italian fare. I prefer food not to be stale or rotten. I think the word 'beautiful' is a crutch, having an extremely weak definition. It's used to describe attraction and sensual gratification when the perceiver can't describe them any better with analytical tools.
I find that when I avoid the word 'beautiful,' I often replace it with the similarly generic word 'interesting,' I suppose with the implication that stimulation of my intellect is more valuable to me than stimulation of whatever it is 'beauty' stimulates. It doesn't stimulate the senses -- the senses just take it in. There's something going on in our brains that reacts to things, getting happy when they receive certain stimuli. Maybe that's what depression does to you: it takes away everything that's beautiful. Trying to explain to me 'what is beautiful' is like trying to explain to a blind man what sight is, to use the tired old analogy. But I don't just think its me and my anhedonia -- I don't think anyone has a very deep understanding of what it means for something to be 'beautiful.' maybe the simplest solution would be to eliminate the word. If you can't define it, then it doesn't exist, like god.
Then we have things that are 'beautiful' that don't gratify our senses, like beautiful actions or a beautiful soul. This further leads me to believe that 'beautiful' and 'beauty' are completely useless as words, along with 'good.' or maybe I just don't understand aesthetics.
Anyway, my final conclusion is that aesthetics is dumb and subjective, 'beautiful' is a bankrupt word, and that I am sort of cerebral.
I can smell my oil paints up here, from the canvas that I moved upstairs and is now sitting about 20 feet away (i have a weirdly acute sense of smell). They smell good.
Computers are readily controllable. Reality is not readily controllable. Therefore, computers are not reality.
You will never find an environment in which you are able to implement strict cause and effect as cleanly and precisely as a computer. Computers do *exactly* what you tell them to do, without exception. Any illusion that they don't is due to one of two things. First, problems in the software. For instance, evil bill programmed MS windows to download updates from the MS website without your permission. Things like this piss off computer geeks, who are incorrigible control freaks almost without exception, to no end. Second, a computer doing something strange might be attributable to user error. I'm sure it's *possible* that a few errant electrons might jump when they should have stayed still, or vice versa, but I'm fairly confident in assuming that in 99.9% of cases, a computer doing something dumb is either due to user error or software error (programmer error). They say 'computers don't make mistakes -- humans do,' and this is pretty much true.
This is why some people become as addicted to computers as they are, and totally reclude into their sheltered environment of positive and negative bits of charge: because real reality, the real world, is completely out of control, and instructing a computer to print out 'hello world' -- and then hey, it prints out 'hello world' -- is a welcome respite from the chaos inherent in the reality of day to day life.
Control is an illusion, and to surrender to the truth that nothing, absolutely nothing, is within our control, is both healthy and mindful. Related is giving up the idea of free will, an idea that is just as debilitating, and just as much a myth as the idea that one can control reality in any meaningful way. One of the places these related illusions of free will and control of reality are most seductively presented is in digital environments -- computer software and hardware. They always do what you tell them to do. Y follows x, always.
This is why computer geeks get so absolutely furious, just lived, pink with rage, when their computer does something they didnt *want* it to do, but in fact they or their software did *tell* it to do: it flies in the face of the illusion of control propagated by the use of computers. This is one of the reasons geeks often prefer unix-like operating systems: these systems don't, generally, do things 'behind your back.' they don't contain a lot of superfluous programming that is perhaps intended to make things easier for the less advanced user, but in fact strips control away from any user, whatever their level of competence, by making the computer do things that the user didn't specifically tell it to do. Computer geeks also tend to be bossy. They like to tell things what to do, and then have the things obey without question.
This rant was sparked by the oil paints I'm experimenting with. I dont know when they're going to dry, and there are so many variables involved (temperature, humidity, amount of turpentine in the paint, type of oil used in the paints, amount of oil used in the paints, color of the paint, type of canvas, etc) that controlling them is a daunting task. Computers are ridiculously simple, compared to real life. But this simplicity doesn't necessarily make them easier to use. In fact, I'd posit the paradox that this simplicity makes them more complicated. Because they are subject to algorithm and analysis, this means that one has to keep track of all the algorithms and analyses. This finite number of variables is simpler than real life's infinite number of variables (or one great big variable -- however you want to think about it), but computers are harder than real life for the same reasons. If one wanted to control real life to a degree approaching that by which computers are controllable, this would be insanely difficult. In fact, it'd be impossible.
The problem, though, is that control is not an illusion -- you *really do* have control over what a computer does. I don't know how to resolve this. How can I sit here and type about how 'you can never have control over reality and blah blah mindful this, buddhist that, etc' on a machine that's doing exactly what I tell it to do? this is a job for MIT.
Computers are the anti-zen. They control every little variable to black-or-white, 0 or 1, binary precision. It's either 'yes' or 'no,' 'on' or 'off' -- where else are you going to find that? Nowhere (well, also in math and science). The nature of REAL reality is that there are no boundaries between things, objects, subjects -- whatever you want to call them -- anything. But computers fly in the face of thousands of years of buddhist and eastern wisdom and truth. Suddenly, there's a very clear distinction between this and that. It's either 0 or it's 1. This black or white world is incredibly seductive, and I think might be very dangerous if it's applied to more things more vigorously than it is already.
Maybe this 'math and science' thing needs a little bit more clarification. Does this represent a big split in world view between 'one/infinite categories' and 'algorithmic finite categories'? And does this split represent in itself dualism? Which world view is correct? Are they really two different world views, or is this also an illusion?
'fuzzy logic' is the introduction of degrees of truth other than 'yes' or 'no' into a system of logic -- in fact, an infinite number of degrees. This might imply the transfer of the one nature of reality, the infinite nature of reality, into the dualism of computers. There hasn't been a whole lot of public research in practical applications of fuzzy logic beyond washing machines and guidance systems, but it clearly represents an enormous paradigm shift in the way computers think. Once fuzzy logic is widely implemented, this might mean judgment day at the hand of the machines. It will mean things like predicting human behavior can be controlled down to the smallest detail. For instance, fuzzy logic might be used to predict exactly where a criminal will go after he robs a bank. Or something like that; I don't know. But whatever it is, I'm convinced that fuzzy logic will mean a whole new way for computers to think about reality. Computers will become a little bit more real when they're stripped of their dualism. Truly, they'll be thinking machines.
Unless you design all your own hardware and write your own software, there are going to be some things outside of user control. And even if you design your own hardware and write your own software, there will still be some things out of your control, like variables in the physical properties of the matter and energy you're working with on the circuit board, transistors and capacitors (i think, to a small degree, at least). But I guess that doesn't happen very often -- computers and the physical laws of matter and energy are amazingly predictable. Some things in nature really do behave like clockwork. For instance, the decaying of isotopes. Atomic clocks are made, based on this kind of natural clockwork phenomenon, that are more accurate than any other timepiece. I think the electro-mechanical workings of things on the subatomic level in the wires and circuits of a computer behave in a similar way: almost completely predictable. All of the miserable shit in a computer comes from the software -- badly designed software -- and the user. People telling computers what to do in bad ways.
The question is: what does the fact that you *can* control a computer completely, and that there *is* a distinction between this and that (between 0 and 1 in binary) mean for eastern philosophy and the one nature of reality? I don't know.
I've become worried about my weight again. I haven't been biking lately, because 1. I got tired of it, and 2. It started to feel like something I 'had to' do. So, I've been sitting around accumulating fat.
I asked my mom for advice, and she advised me to replicate situations when I've been able to lose weight. This would definitely be 1. The sugarbusters diet and 2. Weight training. The problem with these things is that they're expensive. And also, the greater problem -- perhaps one that generalizes to other problem areas in my life besides weight-control -- is that I get tired of things very easily. Except sitting on the computer. I think this is because I don't visit the same websites every day, nor do I write the same emails, or write the same blogs. Within what appears to be a very static and boring environment (sitting at the computer) is a practically limitless world of new things. I'm the same way with food: I'll often eat one thing for a long time, and then get really tired of it and never eat it again (like my infamous chinese chicken).
On the one hand, it seems like I'm very settled in and accustomed to routine, but on the other it seem like I get bored with things very easily.
I've noticed that I like to make analyses of myself, to put my functioning into categories, and there always ends up being an exception to whatever rules I work out for myself. Maybe this is dumb.
I keep putting all of this energy into posts on the SDF bulletin board, but no-one ever sees them (except for SDF users).
Anyway, here's an analysis I made about punk rock vs. Prog rock, and how it fits into romantic vs. Classical dualism. I went back a few days later and re-read my own post, and I realized that this is something I love to do: lay down categories. I like to divide up reality into discreet bundles, to arrange the great mass of reality into quanta. To try and 'make sense' out of things. I think this is fine, and isn't as idiotic and futile a pursuit as I determined with my 'godel's incompleteness theorem'-inspired condemnation of all deductive logic as inherently meaningless. My condemnation led me to another conclusion, eventually: the one nature of reality, corresponding to eastern philosophy. Different 'things' don't exist -- distinctions made between two subjects are arbitrarily placed by the observer's mind. There are no discreet quanta in anything, except in your head.
Dividing things into arbitrary categories (as I've done here in my analysis of music) serves some purpose. It helps us get a familiarity and level of comfort with something, even if we aren't really understanding its true nature. To understand the true nature of something, one must...well, if I could answer that I'd be the new messiah. But it's certainly not through analysis: naming that thing, putting that thing into categories, or describing that thing with additional names and categories.
Without further ado, here's my post. It's a good example of fitting categories over subjects. In this case, two categories are laid down -- dualism. Dualism confounds the one true nature of reality, just like any other set of categories. Even if it's not right or meaningful, it's fun to analyze the world, just because it generates the illusion of control and exercises our brains.
One could lump tortoise in with bands like particle, lake trout, or even phish. Ive heard this genre referred to as 'orgo' (from organic). Hehe.
Lots of jazz/funk influence, extended jams, electronica influence (not so much with phish), and really tight musicianship.
In a way, these bands have a 'progressive' element to them (you mentioned radiohead). They share a lot of the technical competence and willingness to experiment with early prog bands like yes, king crimson, and rush (and even some of the contemporary prog metal outfits like symphony x and dream theater).
Prog is kind of 'anti-punk,' in a sense. Instead of saying 'i play for the song, man...I'm not about the guitar solo' and then grimacing while making a lot of noise and smashing instruments, prog rockers celebrate the infinite intellectual potential of harmonic and rhythmic expression (for instance, playing a 24 tone solo against a 21/8 time signature, etc).
There's always been a dichotomy between the purely expressive and the purely intellectual -- the 'romantic' and 'classical' (to use robert pirsig's terms) -- and this comes out in the old ideological and aesthetic clash between punk rock (romantic) and prog rock (classical).
I think the kind of person who would tend to gravitate towards computers and making them do weird things would be more inclined to fall into the 'classical' category. I'd wager that SDF'ers are more likely to enjoy 'ELP' than they are 'the ramones' (with a few notable exceptions).
I think this is where sociology and philosophy intersect: where one starts laying down boundaries normally restricted to things like math and science over social structures, in an attempt to understand them. Theoretical sociology, I guess, like theoretical physics. Maybe that's what philosophy is: theoretical sociology.
I have another commission from a 46 year old woman named lester pollux, who resides in the gambia. She gave me these guidelines: 1. Purple, and 2. Support, as in couple-hood. I made a sketch for lester:
She didn't like that sketch, citing it as being too frankesntein-like. I agree. So, I made a new sketch, stressing intimacy rather than freakishness:
Lester really liked this one, as did i. I'm going to do it in oil on canvas (of all things). I just started the painting today, minutes after cashing lester's check covering one half of supplies plus one half of our agreed-upon selling price for the painting.
Oil paints are strange. I'd never worked with them before, but found them to be very easy. They have a sculptural quality, and applying paint to a canvas is like laying down layers of clay. Sort of out of instinct, I tried to wash my palette off with water, which beaded into little drops and ran off, as one might expect after some thought (oil paints, oil and water, etc). So, I wiped everything off with rags and turpentine. And that's literally all there is to it. One can use turpentine not only to clean off oil paint, but also to thin it.
I remember a woman in the graduate 'imaging and digital arts' program at UMBC (don't get me started) who made a remark something like 'of course you can learn new technologies...i know of people who've taught themselves oil painting -- if someone can do that, then they can surely learn director or flash.' I have news for this person: oil painting is about a thousand times easier than software or coding. The only thing that's hard about painting is you have to drive around, buy supplies, set things up, get dirty, stand up to paint, move around and risk mindless rage from inhaling too much turpentine (which I'm told can be a problem). In other words, one's body is involved. Paintings are real. But computers are much harder on the brain.
It's nice to be able to compose on the computer, to make a sketch in photoshop and then transfer the design to an oil painting. The file is on the computer, and then it gets 'printed out' with oils on a 3' x 2' canvas. Actually, this morning I did literally go to kinko's and print out a copy of the image. The print-out is in the basement now, and has some orange oil paint residue on it. The advantages of oil paints are that it's a beautiful medium, and that it's quite easy to work with. Really, it doesn't get much better. The colors are brilliant, they hold their quality as the paint dries, and the texture is sensuous and evocative. They even smell good. In general, oils are nice. I feel almost like I want to eat them up. It's interesting to note that this technology has been around for centuries, and has been remained more or less unchanged. That ought to say something about it.
It's also nice to be in the basement surrounded by all of these artifacts and props that we as media consumers have come to associate with 'artist.' all I need now is a beret.
I'll post a photo of the completed painting when it's done, but that won't be for a while. I'm painting in layers, that big orange block of background first. When that dries (or at least gets sufficiently tacky after a day or so), I'll fill in the dark-yellowish-whatever block. Then, when that gets tacky, I'll work on the various purple and magenta lines. Piece o' cake.
Painting is fun.
I took my mother to a movie for mother's day.
Maybe if most people weren't so incredibly stupid I wouldn't have such problems with them. It's funny, though, how relating to a very stupid person is actually more difficult and requires more intelligence than relating to someone who's smarter. Nothing the stupid person says makes sense, so one has to guess at what they mean and paraphrase. It's loads of fun, really. And actually, it's probably one of the hardest things: trying to make sense out of an idiot's muddled brain. So, only the *very* intelligent have the capability to interact with a stupid person, and try to draw a cogent pattern of thought, some kind of 'y follows x' structure of communication, from the cognitive gibberish.
Referring to an idiot trying to express himself as gibberish raises the question of the schizophrenic. Their speech doesn't make any sense (except perhaps to themselves), but I'm loath to call them stupid, per se.
I often hear 'smart' people complain about 'stupid' people, and I'd always assumed that these complaints were a really clear example of esteem problems in the complainer, needs to assert dominance over others, etc. But I think that what's really going on is that the complainer doesn't feel competent enough, fluid enough, or smart enough his or herself to deal with the 'stupid' person. The complainer is used to relating to people in a particular way, and when this standard is challenged s/he feels stupid his or herself for not being able to connect with a radically different interface, so to speak. The complainer then lashes out at other people for being stupid. 'i hate stupid people' translates into 'i hate myself for not being able to relate to people who think differently than myself.' it's also interesting to note that those with a high level of general intelligence, a high g, a high score on an IQ test, are often deficient in their ability to relate to others, an ability that's often described as social intelligence.
And of course it's all relative. There are probably people that I know, to whom I think I'm relating really well, who are struggling with drawing some cogency out of my brainless rants. Every time I open my mouth, these people are working overtime to create from my confused rambling a logic they can deal with. So, if you don't understand you've read, it probably means you're smarter than the author.
What I'm getting at with my irony is that maybe differences in intelligence amount to differences in the way people think, and not much more, as opposed to a measure of value or even meaningful quantity of any kind.
Sure, we can measure something and call it 'general intelligence,' and this thing correlates strongly with performance in school, work, personal finance, etc. Ignoring for now the possibility that perhaps some other variable is responsible for the correlation, the knee-jerk liberal mantra actually happens to be correct in this case: these tests are culture-specific. It'd be interesting to see the pygmies in the congo design a test for americans, and to see how the americans would do on it.
Left-brained reasoning makes me tired and irritable. I should avoid it. It's dumb, anyway. One is always going to be able to take it one step further. A final conclusion is never possible. Furthermore, it's impossible to start somewhere -- your starting point for deduction and factual masturbation is going to be inherently arbitrary, just chosen out of thin air. I went through this months ago, and don't feel like dealing with it again. It's really just exhausting, and you never get anywhere. This is why I don't like logic: it's not going to help you discover the truth.
Dredging up old blog ghosts.