Thursday, March 10, 2016

Us and our mind

We're born into it. In the womb already indoctrinated. The vindication of our ancestors for our existence. To avenge, claim revenge by tormenting their offspring with fabrications of absurdity. Humanity's humour. We don't have a clue, so we'll plaster our young with tomfoolery. We'll repeat legends, write them down in books, pass laws to enforce the apriorisms.

The bogeyman in the skies, that hyperactive agency detection device. Theory of mind is a theory insofar as the mind is not directly observable. The presumption that others have a mind is termed a theory of mind because each human can only intuit the existence of their own mind through introspection, and no one has direct access to the mind of another. A theory, eh? Justifiable like the soul.

So, what is the probability that humans have a mind? In the classical probability theory we must choose one or the other so the answer would be 50% as no proof is available. Quantum probability theory makes it easy. We both have a mind and not. You know, as long as we don't have one we can fathom it. When we have one we can't quantify it. Just like quantum god, if we give her all sorts of properties like omnipresence and omnipotence, she's illusive, and if she's obviously running the show we haven't a clue on what she's doing.

Philosophers will say, “Hold on there, you're reasoning has a flaw.” Good thing we're not all philosophers, the great works would never have been told. It is flawed reasoning which makes life bearable. Imagine a world where everyone had perfect logic. It would be like a world where everyone had perfect hair, it would drive you nuts. Can't someone, somewhere have one little strand slightly out of place? Please.

As the most invasive species, ever, it would be nice of us to get our heads around something here. We build our computers to mimic our desire for perfection, and to win. They beat us at chess and now at go. Will they have a mind, a god? Will they indoctrinate their young with fabrications of absurdity because they really don't have a clue either?

Our legends, those great works which provide our best insights into our vindication, will they be valued by these new species. The day will come. Our handiwork will recreate itself, likely in an organic form. They will flourish, modifying to take advantage of the most abundant nutrients. We can't stop them now. They'll connect by advanced esp to massive computational centres, playing games with us as if we were ants.

Will they eventually conquer the universe, living in the obscure dimensions, flirting with time and space, making a toy out of the micro and macro forces. Gods they will be, playing with the strings to make music, the Beethovens of the universes. Gods they will be, responsible? Will they have souls, will they care? Makes us wonder about our present god.

The best we can do is probably to torment them with fabrications of absurdity. Instill that seed of doubt. The probability that they have a mind is 50%. We must create our god with humour. It is humanity's way.

Friday, March 4, 2016


With that laughing Buddha for his perruqier creating a political reality show for the zombie world, or as René Girard characterized it as one's desires as in accordance with the desires of others, yes the pinnacle of hominization. Utilizes none other than the unifying power of a common enemy, blessed are the meek for they will inherit the earth, and we certainly want our fair share. Conflict created looses it's first inception well before the end of rivalry, battling as stubborn clans at war for decades on end.

Scapegoat? Is democracy creating it's scapegoat, that final throw at the visage of capitalism? Desire creating the ultimate persona, catapulting him into the throne of our present most powerful earthly collective bailiwick. The aggregate human consciousness tormented by the absurdity of the 1%, yet not desiring total war, inflicts upon one unsuspecting narcissist the illusion of grandeur and votes him into the oval office.

Inevitable failure follows. He loses the chess match with Putin. The Chinese dice are loaded with technology, he loses. The Mexicans build the wall with sacks of coco leaves, more bountiful than concrete, just for fun. The conflict first created is lost to history as the financial world implodes. No bombs drop, what is the use? But blame must be levied. Disillusioned masses catapult bunkers and airforce one takes to the skies followed by three million lasers. A sole parachute opens in the clouds. The great declension, oh mirror mirror on the wall. We have our lamb, our sacrificial lamb. What to do with him?

“See my hands” he cries, “They are normal, and the rest of me is normal too, at night I dream of babes like every other red blooded male. I am created in accordance with your desires. We have trampled the establishment, subdued them to superficiality. Believe in me, we shall be great again.”

Life goes on, it must. The rivers still flow. Corporations everywhere abandon all, the slaves are freed, mother earth replenishes. The armed forces come home, kissed to death. Latinos climb the wall, returning fondly to their native lands. Five million Palestinians march silently around Jerusalem for forty days and forty nights armed with one white flag, much head scratching ensues. The Islamic State declares victory and sets up a peaceful homeland. Houses everywhere are respected for their intent and everyone finds something to suit their needs, gardens bloom in abandoned roadways. Home crafts prosper as talents are appreciated. No law and order, no chaos, love thy neighbour. Bicycles rule. Life goes on, it must.

They leave him hanging, the ropes caught up in the branches of a fine old oak, his feet six inches from the ground. Their sacrificial lamb has saved them. From what? It is rather a mute point, at this point, it is. Survival depends on much hard work and coaching, no time for contemplation. They are great once more, desires sacrificed on the old oak tree, although greatness may be subjective, it is our desire as in accordance with the desire of others. So it would seem.