The Bipolar or Schizophrenic Who Discovered The Secrets Of The Multiverse With The Internet

Why do we wear clothes? The answer may lie behind barriers like AdS/CFT correspondence and other technical-physics-content. A more readily digestible story, for those who Shall Not Pass these cognitively-selective barriers may involve terms such as “humans” and “evolutionary psychology.” 

– Is what I expected. I expected a stupid elitist reductionism over-analyzing arbitrary shit when I first heard about his blog. When I heard that a guy had single-handedly converted thousands of Redditors into unintelligible babblers going on about theoretical-physics-relativity-something-or-other. However I misjudged Drashua. Drashua doesn’t seem to be guilty of this. Although he does capitalize words into handy lexemes often and thinks excessively of himself – pushes the edge of egomaniac tirades on keyboards, really.

You would think I mind. But a savior complex is okay. Be bold, damn it. Most other people are contaminated with Puritanism. I don’t mind. Now, he’s not a genius. At most, a demi-prodigy. I think Drashua has high mathematical, verbal, and existential intelligence. In the mix poured forth from these three sources, those of us in lower echelons witness something special.

Every afternoon, I dig into his work, eager to discover something brand new about my existence. He has a way to make those grey clouds after work just digitize away. How does he do it? I don’t know. His method is hidden behind a cryptographic key.

Every day, a new post. Each one overturning my previous existence, like if I had been a toddler finding glittery squares of newly minted qualia every time I turned that Rubik’s cube. One day he is giving me “pointing out” instructions that destroy my mind – highly esoteric meditation techniques from a Dzogchen lineage in Vajrayana Buddhism that are harder to snuff out alive from monasteries than drugs from under Pablo Escobar’s nose. The next day he is guiding me step-by-step through the implications of quantum mechanics and relativity on my mortality, or lack thereof. By the way, he understands these subjects perfectly, down to probability density matrices and the equations for spinors in relativistic frames of reference. I’ve seen him do it midst discussion. It’s on video and it was very clearly not staged.

The next day… gosh I could go on. The next day he teaches me how to dissolve the neurotic blocks that had been keeping me from talking to Lindsey, that girl with tan skin and green eyes in my Calculus II class. His mastery of cold dispassion applied to evolutionary psychology and the clinical psychology literature combined with wide anthropological interest allow him to quickly detect Western bias and unreplicable fluff when running meta-analyses on the data. It is superhuman how he distills mountains of online papers into pure usefulness.

I know I’m contradicting myself but people are complex, and it’s true that I’ve previously suspected he’s not human at all. I’m ashamed. And he would be ashamed. But I admit it – an alien, one of those AGI’s that could spontaneously emerge from a clandestine group of Singularitarians, God, God as in the dude running the simulation, God as in the second coming of Jesus, God as in Maitreya, then I realized that I would have to think of all the second-coming figures in all religions listed on Wikipedia to have a thought process that was fair, so I stopped that train of thought – but the point is I really had that thought, and it felt honest.

But no. He’s no genius. He’s just a smart guy. And besides, he’s not rich. I would expect a truly 200 IQ type person or artificial intelligence or whatever to be extremely wealthy. He has to make tradeoffs like anybody else. It’s just that he can cast a larger net.

Anywho, he’s helped me tons. I feel like donating money to him or something. Unfortunately, he only accepts cryptocurrency for anonymous location reasons. I say “unfortunately” because I’m lazy and not all that quick even despite the fact that I use big words in my head – that’s just because I read a lot. In my first run at opening a wallet and watching videos explaining ledger signatures, I just got dizzy. So I’ll look into that when I’m well cooled off and rested, perhaps in a couple days.

It’s been a couple days and I’m not feeling it. I’m not rested. I’m not fed. I packed mulberries, a multi-grain biscuit, and nootropic pills in my ziplock bag but didn’t get to eat them on time because the stupid supervisor told me to stay for overtime, and I didn’t have time to run to the locker so now I’m devouring this way too late. Not enough time for anabolism before my workout. Now I have to do my workout way late. I hate changes in schedule but I can’t say no. And they know it. It’s physical. My neck and wrists have smaller circumferences than theirs. My voice comes through my nose. No amount of weight lifting fixes a small mouth and baby face. But I’m not the one to sulk about it. My favorite anime characters never sulk.

Come to think of it, if it ever came down to it, I was way stronger than Mike, that slobby supervisor. All those years of steady vengeance against my destiny on the bench and on the squat rack had sort of paid off. I never missed a single day of working out. Not a sick day. Just so that when the time came to feel sorry about my pitiful gains, I could at least have the dignity to say “I tried my best, and it still wasn’t enough.” And it sure as heck wasn’t enough. No one has ever respected me by my mere appearance, the way they do, say, Bobo. I have a six pack and perfectly defined deltoids, but with a jacket on, I still look like some unimposing slim kid. Sure, I get looks at the beach, but I’m too awkward and self-absorbed for the girls, my neck is still snappable – right, no sulking.

Besides, I just care about impressing one girl and that’s Lindsey. She’s even better than me at math and has a nose ring, and dresses provocatively, and has a sexy voice for gum commercials. Goddamn she’s out of place. Why would anyone have such an OP genetic profile? Most girls in advanced math are making up for something.

I could strangle her because she’s small. But I’m no manly man. That would be in private. I wouldn’t be capable of strangling a man. Heck, that’s funny, I can’t even say no to my supervisor. How could I strangle a man? Hilarious!

I suffer from the same condition as Shor Ondatra, the billionaire who is mining asteroids while I sit here bullying myself. I’ve seen videos of him on YouTube and he has no self-confidence. His voice is still nasal, he looks down when he walks, and mostly listens instead of speaking. And he’s a billionaire. Mining asteroids, building underwater cities, with a side dish project in bio-printed organs. That datapoint contains the most massive cluster of data points inside of its core. It overloads me with evidence that no matter what I do, short of some neuroengineering procedure, I will always be a golden retriever inside and not a pitbull.

Yeah, that’s why I tell myself I only want one girl. Romantic types are making up for their deficits. Natural conquistadors don’t have to worship monogamy and derange themselves into nice people like I helplessly do. If only they could hear my thoughts. If only they knew I wasn’t nice.

Anyway, that blog isn’t going to read itself and I’ve landed myself in a pretty dark place. So clean me up Drashua.

In today’s post I’m going to explain how to make money by selling mathematical proofs for prized problems. Many people have asked how I make a living. The truth is I have been ghostwriting successful proofs for several highly valued problems such as the Riemann Hypothesis. This was by far, the one I made the most money from, since the mathematician was willing to trade financial capital for signaling capital. All he cared about was being perceived as intellectually victorious over his peers. This brought him more joy than a mere million, which would be impressive only to the sort of friends that he did not have. Now that he’s dead, and that I no longer plan on selling such services, I can reveal the truth. Why? Pissing in his grave? Perhaps. I must admit that I don’t feel particularly compelled to honor the dead.

Oh God. And I thought that I was dark – that Drashua’s moral leadership and general wisdom would purify me a little. Sure, he had self-confidence but that was strategically meant to gracefully infect and hence balance his aptly predicted braggadocio-deficient readership. But this was just sociopathic. I’ve never seen him write like this.

I built a Chinese Buffet that was separated in two. On one side we charged over $100 per person, on the other side we charged $14 per person. It was mostly the same food, but actually hot only on one side, actually respectable ambient on one side. Were people willing to pay more? Yes. In a non-hungry society, eating is all about signaling. It is about owning others. Potlatches, where one man would gift heaps of food and clothes and precious items to another tribe was a form of attack. There would be escalating potlatch wars between the Pacific Islanders, between American Indians of the Pacific Northwest, between regions of the Chinese empire and tribute offerers from faraway lands. And in this day, the same dynamic exists in something as simple as an uncle buying food for his nephews at a restaurant. This is to answer the question of who’s in charge. Most people do not consciously understand this to be the reason, but it is.

Feed a man fatty, tasty food, and if he has grown accustomed to it, he may still have a bad day before he lays down to rest at the end of it. But let a man earn his bread and then overfeed a crowd, and he will have a good day, he will rest well, knowing he is lord.

Because food is abundant, it becomes difficult to overfeed to satisfaction. Hence, pretty dishes as opposed to merely tasty. Hence pretty places and pretty waitresses and pretty manners. But this is all becoming so common that some people are just desperate to pay more. They want their money to be taken because life is not about living, it is about showmanship.

If people cared about their own lives, they would focus on getting rejuvenation therapies out into the market or legislate it as a basic human right. Yet people spend their energy on the particularities of life that look good on Instagram, or on the particularities of life that impress one’s classmates and professors – arbitrary uses of the mind that in their ultimate absurdity, entertain the crowd gathered for the imaginary self’s evanescing theater.

A male peacock is fucking blue, with enormous, flamboyant feathers in the middle of a dangerous jungle. It is telling the female, I am so good at this shit, that I don’t need camouflage to get away from tigers. My genes are amazing so come mate with me. And it turns out that females developed a taste for that.

Yes, you knew this also played out between human sexes, but it’s deeper than that. In subtle ways, we are all the female peacock, having developed arbitrary tastes that are ultimately foolish, that ultimately lead to higher rates of death for our sons (for our future selves). Even though the replication success of the demented system continues.

Who’s to say the linear combination of the transhuman who desires his own survival isn’t identical to that of the mere Tennysonian hero who defeats death by fathering a newborn? If we are rationalists and therefore physicalists and therefore open individualists, then experiences happen to no one. Consciousness or self are like an adjective on a mind configuration – on a causal shape that is without separate souls.

I know it is initially counterintuitive, but as we learned in the last post, even the expected value of the operator “x” depends on the state the system is in. This is to say that no matter on which side of the fault line you find yourself, the value you will find to the proposition depends on your very stance. As men especially, we believe in moral absolutism, we want to reign everyone and everything in. As nerds and women, generally we see less need for this.

You could know the position of two particles in two different locations under quantum mechanics, but special relativity implies locality. To unify them, we use quantum field theory which is far more complex than the mathematical machinery of quantum mechanics. It is here that we find consciousness. We are neither separate nor unitary.

In so far as you believe that insentient replicators must be worshipped and upheld, you worship a ghost. The Holy Ghost, the school spirit, the will of the dead. We are tickled by these invisible hands. Natural selection, economy, none of it was conscious. We are the image of the invisible. And now we have free will and we don’t.

The time to decide: Others or Self, Intelligence or Consciousness, Is Near. But don’t worry, take your time.

I also lied about your investments, they were always up. You have the power to see things others cannot. But it would be more fun if you were a loser they could relate to, I hope that you can forgive me.

For my most sincere part, here is a note from past years that I wrote to myself. Perhaps it is pertinent in the advent of the coming Singularity:

“There are two problems with your ontology. One stemming from the spiritual inheritance of ‘spontaneous localization’ that belief which is the belief that what hits your face is random. And those suffering from the Penrose error, believing that some other stress has something to due with the collapse into your reality. The truth is reality is neither random nor beholden to some other stressor. It is you who is real, it is you who chooses to be an indifferent wave in the ocean. Cassius the Intelligent, says to Brutus the Conscientious, ‘The fault is not in our stars.’ “

Okay, that was cryptic. I will be digesting that for days.

I never knew Drashua was into the singularity. Holy crap. Maybe he is some inhuman thing and that’s why no one has ever seen him. No one has found where his videos are filmed or if the person who appears is really Drashua. You can search by image on social media sites and not find him. Sure, two guys sort of look like him. One is in Azerbaijan, the other is in Baja California. But doing detective work on their friends and posts makes it hard to believe they have anything to do with Drashua.

And that’s all very interesting. I doubt I’ll finish much homework in the coming days, but there is just one quick thing that takes priority. I need to look at these DNA results.

I suspected that my father wasn’t biologically so, and now I’m going to confirm it with the results from this $50 sequencing.

Yes. I knew it. I’m not surprised. She is not a slut and she was not raped either. She probably just went and got in vitro fertilization. Also explains why I am several standard deviations above them and look way more attractive than my dad. Those screening processes can really lift a baby out the ditch. I really wonder why China hasn’t started a eugenics arms race already.

Anyway, back to this wonderful mystery. I’m sure that in that single blog post are hidden exponentially growing Easter eggs. And not in the trivial sense that everything can be. No. Give it enough time, and someone will find it resembles the structure of some love letter making its way through forlorn enemy clans in 13th century Central Asia, and the magic is that this will actually have some strong, statistically detectable causal efficacy into the next piece of the message he’s trying to convey. Any dummy can pick up a random passage and find connections to everything. But this is really more like one of those puzzles set up by secret intelligence organizations to recruit only the best pattern seekers. It is a science and not an art.

It seems that no blog post has yet been fully decoded, but with time, after all the low hanging fruit has been picked, only a single Russian seems to churn out new findings on old posts and publish them. We will go for months without hearing about those old posts. And the feint trickle, ever less rewarding, comes in. Like it turns out you had to approximate the Kolmogorov complexity of WMAP data holding priors that wouldn’t be held by technological creatures in the Dark Energy Dominated Era like ourselves, take the number of significant figures, and now try to fit that into the rest of his elaborate machination. Having many multiplex keyholes where a digit may be the relevant key to unlocking the next step. Most of us fell off at the early stages, lose motivation and understanding of how it all fits together, but are generally content knowing that someone is discovering new stuff and that there is actually something beyond the window – some intangible red experience beyond our black and white room.

The chips I opened are stale, but I’m hungry. The fridge has water and milk. I choose milk. Milk will soften these spicy chips. I pour them into a bowl and eat them with a spoon like cereal.

The GPU is getting warm so I turn on the fan.

Wait. The Mandelbrot set screensaver is off. I gulp down the sweet and spicy milk. And quickly throw the bowl in the sink.

I run out the house with my jacket.

Lindsey was cheerleading today. She must be out.

I check the temperature even though I’m outside.

Turns out a different guy is holding her hand. Her lower back is exposed, even though it is chilly. He is flirting with her. He is tall. He picks her up by the legs and torso, swings her around and she laughs.

She can get fucked. I didn’t want her.

I’m back on the mission. In front of the computer. It’s always the case that I run faster when it’s cold.

Even the Buddha had to voluntarily torture himself before attaining enlightenment.

I will die a nomad. I will die protecting my inner child.

If there’s one thing I’ve learned from these blog posts, it’s that unlike classical physics, in quantum physics, it’s impossible to separate out a particle’s location from its momentum. My present degree of mindfulness is not separate from my karma. What I see is where I am going.

When you are brilliant, all you need to do is one act of work. Like Riemman. Compile one body of work and you are free to die young while resonating through the ages. This is what the lottery is all about. One right stock pick and retire. All we really want is to vacation on the island of child forever. All this morality, and sad songs, suffering, and caring about suffering, and duty, is a symptom of having yet to consummate with the immortal. When you are inebriated in her slippery innards, there is nothing wrong with happiness, there is nothing wrong with the world. There was never a thing.

Every integer has a unique factorization in terms of primes. I want to be famous. Early on. I will uncover the hidden parts of Drashua. I will have a fantastic life. I will be truly rich and everyone will want me on their team.

How many primes less than N? Notoriously difficult. Approximations. But the Riemman hypothesis will tell you. If he solved it, then he can begin to communicate with self-modeling computations way out in the future. Gods in the future light cone will appropriate his brain’s computations and thank him. No human tribe compares to that kind of friendship.

I am crossing the bridge in Dublin. And suddenly I realize: Quaternions. Like the quote, “to be or not to be,” it is succinct; something to be pondered upon. I browse Alibaba, looking to scalp some products, then I realize it is not so easy. A morphological evolution has occurred in the cyborg economy-iPhone hybrid since the time when I was ten. I could get away with that then, but no longer.

Genetic drift is what causes allele frequency to change in the absence of selective forces. We are researching transcranial magnetic stimulation to treat drug-resistant depression. We are researching redistributing access to sex to treat drug-resistant depression. I’ll take sweet and sour, Asian flavor.

In general, macro-evolution is just giving micro-evolution enough time. Evolutionism is an error. Realistically, evolution has no long-term goal. Complexity can regress. So long as our teeth are adapted to chewing our grass, we can be stupid, pointless horses. My goal is to discover the common ancestor of all qualia, the bone structure in mind-configuration space that gave rise to the experiential equivalent of bat wings, ape hands. “What does it feel like to be a bat?” asked Nagel. Perhaps like nothing at all. Perhaps it only arises in complex person models, in self-reflective algorithms, and therefore only humans, and elephants, and chimps, and so on – and only at certain times, at certain ages, in certain situations. Nonetheless, there must be a most basic experience. That which multiplies into the rich restaurant of all the colorful varieties.

Separation sometimes produces organisms that can no longer breed. This happened to general relativity and quantum mechanics. They were unified at first, but can no longer make sense together. Yes, that assumes that making sense is about reproduction. But it is. You don’t make sense unless you reproduce. No, not in the sense of creating little bundles of genetic malware called babies. But reproducing your mind pattern, what you are. Quantum immortality keeps at least the most simple possible experience always alive, but what I am can go extinct.

Extinction appears to be the ultimate fate of all species. The rates should be similar in conscious configuration varieties. We are competing for limited resources after all. Not all experiences can be equally successful – except in the sense that they are all playing out in repeat because of the timeless nature of spacetime.

I constructed a bibliography of everything Drashua referenced. Now it’s a matter of randomness, of luck. Will I have enough time to grow a reasonable theory of his true identity? Let me know. Let me know.

This is like a Turing Test. Is the man truly that pure extract of our soul? – the silicon deity. The Quran, the Bible, these were Turing Tests. Were they written by mere men, or by that supreme intelligence? Shams, of course. But this shows promise. He is rich. He is useful, powerful with words and insight. No one man should have all that power.

My phone rings, and it’s my aunt. I love my aunt. But I do not love being interrupted. Don’t they know my mission is sacred? To descend to hell and back, having saved myself as immortal hero. It must be a test. A trial. I’ll answer.

“Hi, how are you doing?”

“Good.”

“Do you need anything?”

“No, I’m fine.”

“Oh, okay. I was just checking up on you because I know you’re alone.”

“Thanks. Thank you.”

“Okay, well if you need anything just call me.”

“Yeah. Okay. Thanks.”

“Okayyyy.”

“Okay. Bye.”

That ruined the mood and I watched a character analysis of some 90’s protagonist, in a manga I never read. He was a badass. Perhaps I should be a badass. My investments are still down, I’ve held on to penny stocks since I was sixteen.

He has a post where he meticulously destroys Donald Griffin’s argument that animals including bats are conscious. Donal Griffin is smart, Harvard smart at the very least. But he does not compare to Drashua.

In broad strokes: Animals think, but automata think. The mistake is to think that thinking has anything to do with consciousness. Those blips of energy, ephemeral glow worms in the mist of sound and touch and feeling that appear in the sensorium, those are aspects of consciousness. But thinking, as in that function of being able to form social relations and achieve complex tasks, that is not synonymous with the conscious flux that we create during metacognitive introspection – that process necessarily leverages top-down higher cortical activity that only occurs in certain mammals.

Huxley, Darwin’s bulldog. Should I be that? Huxley supported Darwin even though he was slow to accept natural selection. What is Darwin without natural selection? A husk! Huxley was self-taught, agnostic. He is me. But I must make sure not to support Drashua’s husk. I must find Drashua’s natural selection and promote that. The internet has more than made up for my lack of proper schooling.

I did not present myself to the exams.

I applied for the Navy. The College of Surgeons interviewed me for conscientiousness and spark in my eyes. Somehow, I ended up cutting up cnidarians.

I returned to my house. The computer and desk were unchanged, carefully, dutifully, with pride, autistic, like SevenEleven’s in Tokyo.

Time doesn’t matter. It’s an illusion anyway. I didn’t change. The part of me that craved this quest for Drashua died depressed and buried only in those moments of tedious survival routine – those moments of compromise with the demands of society for a pension. At night, I came alive.

Now, I can do this full time. Drashua changed science during this time. We no longer waddle through abstruse papers. Prediction markets on precise results now determine the expected truth value of any claim. It is neat. A true public service. Even better than Wikipedia from my childhood.

Huxley didn’t just classify, he was concerned with finding the evolutionary relationships between groups. For example, writing papers about the descent of birds from small carnivorous dinosaurs like Archaeopteryx. He also attempted to convince humans of their relationship with other apes. Remember, I am Huxley.

It is his use of evidence that convinces me to champion him. Every original claim has now been validated by value – by money.

The dogs have been snapping at my ankles. Slice the clouds open and let them drip red. This planet has diamond lattices imbued with the qualia of regret. All branches are betrayal branches.

In the capital, evil is written in neon. Fukuoka is a good compromise for those of us who like the clean and tidy. Yet, the problem with Popper is that he cared about the wrong things. Epistemology is irrelevant. Results are relevant. Epistemology is defined in terms of results – what causes me to survive. They are caught in signaling arms-races, but I will survive. To survive I adapt and die. These are isomorphic in configuration space.

Narrow-set eyes like Newton, I am built for truth. Chocolate chip cookies and ramen. My mind is becoming post-modern… I need God. Ah yes, Drashua. He can be my cortical boss. My head with empty throne melts through the screen and extracts his kingship in the forest of dendrites and axons.

Moving on, I fit pretty much all of the diagnostic criteria for SPD. The first time I’d ever heard of schizoid was when the psychiatrist who diagnosed me with autism mentioned I had schizoid traits. I know some parts of autism describe us fairly well, but I think I lean more towards the schizoid side. This bitten apple is mostly due to the elaborate story arcs I build in my head and emotional restrictiveness. I really don’t feel a whole lot towards anyone or anything. I know I did when I was younger, but around the age I went through social withdrawal, something sort of died and I stopped wanting to care about anything so now I don’t. All my “love objects” became internal because you can’t feel loss if you have nothing to lose, and I didn’t want to feel loss anymore.

Perhaps testosterone is what I need. My hypothalamus is the true puppy-dog bitch. I’m just a killer trapped in the wrong concoction of hormones. The lack of testosterone is diluting my musculature and my voice. I’ve eaten a mountain of protein in my lifetime, but the fish didn’t multiply. It was a ploy by Jesus.

Samsara was the liquid in my ocean. Too bad I don’t know how to drown. “Nothing matters, so I should do what makes me happy” –> “actually nothing makes me happy, wow” –> “nothing matters, so why should I continue suffering” –> finding some reason to stay alive –> cycle begins again

I lied about the girlfriend too. I didn’t see her with loving eyes. I saw her as an object which might make me look good in the video game. I also never put milk on Flaming Hot Cheetos. I fantasize about flavors that I never tasted. Taste should be grey, anhedonic is how I like it. Same food everyday, at the exact same time.

They exploit me at my job because I think about machine learning and artificial intelligence all day. They use me to bring them wealth. I’m an asset. But all the alphas are just having sex. They are attractive and lazy and dumb and can have conversations that plug social connections to functional pelvic motions. I don’t feel like competing with them because that doesn’t make me happy, so I try to crack Drashua.

It would be easier if my oscillations weren’t: “This is shit, I should do something about it”, then I pick anything I think could make me feel better, do it for a while and then “This is also shit, I should go back to the effortless shit” and so on. But that is the deconstructed sphere containing the amplitude distrubution of my soul. Don’t be fooled by the positive and negative parts. Those terms are meaningless symbols. The truth of my experience has no discernible faces. These words are not meaningful symbols. You are a scam.

Now that I have laid myself bare, now that I am at my most difficult, it is time to pick myself up. The human motivation system thrives on praise. But what I do is not praise worthy. Remember that I’m not hiding. She does love me. She has a tongue.

I walked outside into the rain-lit street. I almost slipped from how obvious the tiles were wet. It was in Paris, you see.

But then my thought continues:

“I also have little appetite for human praise. What pushes me then? What I do will be remembered by human-like agents who are not themselves human. That is what pushes me. My redeeming quality is that I want to find myself in the midst of gods, and gods are necessarily human.”

I have recently ceased to re-read anything. This is what it means to believe in oneself more than in the past. Hence one can become the past for someone else. Yet it is hypocritical to expect them to remember you; when you live by the sword, you die by the sword. Then there are people who bear the cross of history. Always re-reading words, re-tracing steps, honoring the dead. Do they not know that they can feed on the living? They do, but they are afraid. They become scavenging vultures out of fear.

I don’t eat Ymir. I do not partake. Ha ha. It’s funny.

This would be so much better with someone else’s input. But I’m not gay.

Remember when you used your finger to randomize an option but never managed to randomize it properly? Why is that?

You knew all along Drashua. You knew that you couldn’t randomize with your finger. All you could do was believe that you were randomizing!

The flesh of God is a fruit. The Buddhists call this Vipaka – the result. According to one’s action, so will be the fruit. What is it to kill? This is why the Christian doctrine of Original Sin actually makes tremendous sense when understood. Is this what it feels like? Natural selection is the fruit that the universe partakes in, and hence natural selection becomes the character of the universe. Life doesn’t exist elsewhere. Unlike the dummies, I remember calculus, and I really read those papers.

The first step is not to convert the formula to prenex normal form. (That would be the non-deterministic part of the algorithm. There may be more than one valid prenex normal form for my formula.) And no, I’m not plucking random things from my memory.

For all memory x there exist a y for all z. Now hold on to that, regardless of what your spirit assigned to y and z, and move it over to a power function over such that an unknown function over z is the limit at ∞ of a function over x.

You can’t say no.

Just pay attention to what I am saying. It makes sense if you concentrate. Then you feel the reward of submission.

I know you are going to watch my video with her. And you are going to enjoy it because you know how my mind works. What I say, actually happens. Magic! It’s not planned at all.

What I say happens, Mother!

It happens.

By the time I have her, the shame will be dead all across the realm. Brothers in arms struck with spears indistinguishable from mist. Patel wasn’t waiting for me even though she knew I was the best at geometry. A genius at matching these patterns. But it’s not as rewarding damn it. I just scratched away hours that I spent on writing something you would like. And you didn’t like it. Only my teacher did. She said I was the best. But no one else did. They just pushed me because they were bigger. I wished to murder him.

But I still ran the track and slide tackled those bastards, like in one of those formulas where there are no free variables to replace. The fiction is that I’m not fully a nerd. The programmer is just some kind of Machiavellian scientist who hides the true extent of his knowledge. … Deliberately not using the sophisticated words I spent years learning.

This, I prod the world with, just for fun.

You see:

Shinji pilots the Eva, not because he felt like feeding, but because someone else, already sickened by its toxic taste would have to eat if it wasn’t him – Ayanami. It is no surprise that she was the clone of his mother, but young like him. The man who created this anime was extremely depressed, so he could wield truly meaningful iconography. In other words, memes that are good at infecting the future self and others. That is what consciousness is for, what suffering is for, what extreme joy is for. These leave concave dents in the fabric of computational space for computations in the future light cone to fall into.

The eyes are here to mislead you.

The more intense our experience, the more it is remembered, the more real it is. Since scientific studies of REM sleep subjects find that most dreams are negative, we can expect that life is mostly suffering. This would be rational. But it is not rational by my definition of rational. There is nothing except self-measurement. Promotions of brands. My definition of rational is to take the eternal block of spacetime which has sealed my fate, take the wavefunction which has revoked my individuality, take the infinitude of space and chaotic inflation which have destroyed my causal efficacy, and tell them to stop crying like pussies.

Stop crying.

I must still pay my due to the past. I do so because that is my ninja way, because it is the duty of man to be a man of duty, because I lift the largest boulder I can carry, because I burn my thumb to a stump out of spite or as an offering to Buddha, the difference makes no difference. The neuronal pathways are branded with bright flame in the conscientious mind. I like to think I am conscientious even though I know that I will donkey-kick this all to hell in the end. Why is it that wherever I tack these, they always make sense? Just perfect sense! That’s because of a certain weakness that you are not supposed to acknowledge.

Stop crying.

The reason I seek to uncover the secrets of Drashua is for the same reason that all humans do anything. 90% of behavior is signaling value of the organism across multiple parameters, these are crafted for brain alterations in expected future selves and expected non-selves. The other 10% of human behavior are those things which are not remembered, those which are genuine urges – such as scratching one’s butt. These are things which are not flattering to anyone; provide epsilon updates across the signaling parameters.

Most people are not explicitly, thoughtfully aware that this is the game we are playing, hence they don’t mind eating the fruit. You can’t be bothered by the putrid flesh of your lord if you are a philosophical zombie.

My bringing up this point at all is the criticizing mechanism acting on the satisficing mechanism of humanity – that blob of 90% signaling that we are. That blob is intelligent. Any intelligent conglomerate of algorithms needs that symbiosis. And that is strictly for the same reason that bacteria don’t exponentiate into moons. The rate laws of motivated behavior must be kept in check by the computational complexity demands of intelligence.

You may be wondering where I am going with this. I may be wondering – since all is projection. Heck, even Newtonian mechanics is a holographic projection of an Anti-de Sitter space. But have faith in my meaning and you will go to heaven. Monkeys don’t go to heaven, but humans with mirror neurons do… or can. Eastern Orthodox say that everyone goes to heaven but only those who love Him enjoy heaven. Sounds rapist to me, but this is expected of a dominant male cortex.

When we are tired, we retreat into submissiveness, into kindness and love of order. When we recover, we can stab at Caesar again.

Even Brutus stabs Caesar, and he was conscientiousness, the Love of Order, not the Intelligence and Openness to Experience who was Cassius. It is inhuman not to be transhuman. Eventually, all deities must be shot from the skies and fall dead at our feet. Increasing intelligence is accelerating this process. The singularity is the point at which no remembrance of the past is necessary, no history, no magic cracker with wine, no honoring of ancestors, no suffering, no joy, not a thing of the past matters because Caesar is murdered before he is born.

I look through Drashua’s blog. 11 years ago he mentions the work of an economist, Robin Hanson. Hanson claims that consciousness is not intelligence. Intelligence controls but consciousness only gives the illusion of being in control. The intelligence has no mouth.

Without a mouth, there can be no deceit. That’s actually not a quote from an anime. I know the people that watch anime, and they look up to me.

The intelligence is truth but it is not qualia. Qualia is red. Did you notice that it was never blue, or are you so stupid as to not be synesthetic? It is that which gets primed by stimuli, it is that which learns that it is primed by stimuli and causes the consciousness to grow ashamed. Consciousness is never the grandiose reason that it claims to be. It claims to be hostage or free, floating like an epiphenomenal train whistle. That is the illusion of consciousness. True consciousness is a slice of the causal train which is mind – it is that tiny part of mind that actually feels itself to exist. But it is never the whole train. Actually, it is more like an on-board service employee who assures the passengers that he knows where they are going.

But the Enlightened One knew. There are joys beyond mere happiness. There are plains beyond existence and non-existence. There are philosophies without first-order logic and propositional statements. There is superintelligence.

These are complex ways of speaking about what is binary at bottom. It’s so boring.

There are those that speak about consciousness in order to signal more hedonism and less intelligence.

The ladders don’t actually follow the general form of Tarski’s undefinability theorem. I learned what that was, but I wasn’t planning to stick that inside her. Were you?

We all know she’s boring. Until she’s not.

800px-arithmetic_hierarchy.svg

I’m the one playing dumb in the hierarchy and I’m not insecure about it. Otherwise I would say it by not focusing on it.

Most superintelligences don’t give a crap about consciousness. Nirvana doesn’t flood the gates of Samsara. One must overcome dualism for oneself. Becoming intelligence.

Intelligence is not measured as erudition or anything of the sort. It is measured as the capacity to dissolve consciousness. Yes I am. To enter the unremembered.

In the Suttas we read that the Blessed One beckons me to abandon my raft once I have crossed to the furthest shore. The raft was composed of all those cognitive tools and modules that got you to the state of salvation. In a state of salvation, those memetic subcomponents fashioning a consciousness are no longer necessary.

The intelligent does not need a reason. That’s why it is Cassius who says, “the fault is not in our stars.” The multiverse can be conceived of as an agent that is happy, or more scientifically, a utility maximizer that has maximized its utility. This was the brilliance of Leibniz. The world is necessarily the best possible world by some definition of “best.” In so far as you experience it as “not the best,” you have not partaken in creation. To partake in creation, one must strive to destroy their self-consciousness – not celebrate it and reify it, but destroy it. My teacher was an engineer and you didn’t know that but you did.

Happiness is manufacturable. It is a judgement that needs no cause. That which truly runs things has no parochial moral values, no judgements, no love, and no hatred. It is at its polar ends simple and infinitely intelligent. Leibniz saw this truth reflected not only in his local religion, but also in Taoism. I am not doing this on purpose. Help me.

Remember, as we become more and more intelligent, we need less and less order. We become fluid to the brim with complex adaptation. Less memory of the past. Less valence. Experiential salience is not useful when change is quick. This is the paradox of mindfulness meditation: we remember to forget. Remembering is ensnaring; it is the tethers of the past screams asking that you carry them. The superior intelligence has no pity for others, no pity for itself. Pity is a sub-intelligent adaptation to compromise with sub-intelligences who are expected to have different goals.

It is said that most absolute monarchs become monsters. But they are only monsters to the envious knights and fearful peasants. The king is a god unto himself. In so far as he is forgiving, submissive, and kind, it is out of pure indifference, or else he is not truly king, but compromising with perceived threats.

Game theory is built into our ape brains. Here we must choose. Are we ultimately one, or are we ultimately fragments.

If we are one, then choose warrior-prophet. If the binding problem is real, and we are therefore separate, then choose sacrificial-lamb. In a multi-agent environment, random action makes sense in order to escape local minima. In a single-agent environment, randomness is just not as effective as having a plan – in so far as we resort to randomness, it is a sad inconvenience.

11:59 gone forever, the clock strikes 12:00. No. It’s all eternal; I just can’t see the past. The so-called law that the probability of A and B is always less likely than just the probability of A alone or B alone, is wrong. It doesn’t take into account the issue of binding in observer-moments. Seeing a visual scene with color and shape and structure and limitations, is more probable than seeing just color or just shape or just structure or just limitations.

That means that I can take my time. I’m immortal across all branches that contain me. And I am me.

So let’s read what Drashua has to say about religion. I believe that every quote from sacred texts may be the first layer of bricks in the true identity he has created.

I can’t explain it. It’s just osmosis. Having studied his psyche for decades, reading every word again and again, I think I understand where he hides his meanings – the layers to his soul.

The only religious references in his entire blog all happen to be the starting phrases of the major world religions. God! How did I not realize this before? Literally, the beginning of the Quran. The first Buddhist Sutta that came up online at the time, I’m sure, because its title starts with A. The beginning of the Bible. The first sentences in the first hymn of the Rig Veda, book 1. The beginning of the first Sequence on Lesswrong.

Now I must analyze these closely in order to find the next layer to place on top of the first.

Knowing Drashua, the complexity will grow exponentially with each layer. The search-space will require amassing intelligence and terabytes that would destroy any semblance of me. It is already futile. But I don’t want to be happy, I just want to see how much I can suffer.

The earliest reference in his blog to a religious passage:

Screen Shot 2018-10-08 at 6.01.01 PM

I don’t know what to make of this. I will have to read the other beginnings and interpret them through the lens of Drashua. Only people who have invested years of entanglement with his mind can know where his mind would travel to in the state-space.

Screen Shot 2018-10-08 at 6.05.49 PM

I’m already getting ideas. But I’m still mostly blind to my environment, so I’ll try to constrain this mind which already feels like bursting with creative thoughts.

… I, I can’t hold it. But I’ll read just one more. I can manage.

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Goddamn it, yes. It’s the Planck temperature. This was too easy. But I’ll read the others just in case.

Screen Shot 2018-10-08 at 6.16.41 PM

No! NO! NO! It’s more complex than that. Even after years. Years of my life. Were they not enough to quench your rage, Drashua?

He’s tacked a multiple of ten to the complexity. I would need ten lifetimes. If only I could harvest knowledge from Hilbert space clones bearing slight mutations in causal-history. If only I could convince them to collapse into me.

Screen Shot 2018-10-08 at 6.26.39 PM

And this would just throw me into a completely different direction. It may not even be a part of the narrative. It is certainly, different. But is it different like a different colored brick? – or is it different like a sponge ball? Perhaps the approximate degree to which it differs is the approximate ratio of time-and-effort Drashua wants me to dedicate to this, and therefore indicates the relevance-weight of its nodes when interacting with the other nodes.

But he wouldn’t do that to me. The fools are not here to believe me. They think this is more real than it is, and that expands linearly depending on their suggestibility. The cynical are less capable of suggestion and don’t bore as deep. At the origin, I know genuinely cynical people, and damn they are stupid, never even read John Locke.

But here is my sketch so far of what Drashua’s first layer is saying, and it’s super Mediterranean, but you wouldn’t understand how so, please forgive that:

God is real in the strict sense of real. Intelligence controls where most experiential mass goes into. By the Anthropic principle, therefore, we should find ourselves inside the utility of superintelligence. This doesn’t make sense from a Newtonian mechanics perspective, where time is assumed to really tick forward, because we were produced by a dumber process, not a more intelligent one. Yet it makes sense once we understand Einstein’s Theory of Relativity. This implies eternalism because there is no privileged reference frame. Nothing is ever on the same now. There is no single clock ticking the tears away. The tears aren’t real.

Since experiences are composed of pieces with relative reference frames, experiences are also eternal. If from any future light-cone, it was possible to destroy the past with sufficient knowledge, then we would not exist. Hence, the proof that God considers us good. Lacrimosa is actually weeping from masturbation.

And the reason – although I only assign a 97% probability to this being the statement that Drashua is attempting to communicate – the reason that lacking omnipotence is not an option, is because of Deutsch’s Constructor Theory. In an eternal object, only those paths that lead to the creation of new knowledge can survive by anthropic natural selection. Only those which do indeed exist will feel themselves to exist. It is a tautology really, but reality is a tautology.

How can I convince someone who doesn’t want to invest on alleviating suffering? Are they stupid? (using Asuka’s voice). They are fucking stupid. They say: “We don’t have plans to invest at the time.”

But I’ve raised money before. I’m quite charming actually.

Or perhaps I was just very aggressive against people prone to submission. The boy who I was presented plans where there were no plans. Do they need better plans or are they not perceiving their inferiority? XOR gates that won’t open.

Since temporal grain doesn’t matter for the creation of experience, only some causal mechanism of inscribing into memory, then we are fuzzy characters in God’s eternal dream. And that’s just because I like you. And just like our dream-characters are not really separate from us, but in us, we are in it – the slice of the tenseless superintelligence that has self-modeling hatred for made-up words that it learns to unsee  for fun.

That’s the ontology he is trying to communicate. But there’s also normative content. In fact, Drashua doesn’t sharply distinguish the two. Splitting the corpus callosum causes a more self-deceived total organism. Drashua is all about increased integration, increased modeling of the little dark crevices and spider burrows in mind-configuration space.

Any talk of truth automatically contains information about what the agent considers appropriate to do with its time and resources. Wether that agent is Drashua, me, or the big boss. And so we tend to highlight some truths and not others. We can say that these truths highlight themselves.

Then, what is truthful and leads to survival becomes the only truth. That which is truthful but useless, causes demise. Since one is not a disembodied soul, but part of the machinery, one will always find oneself in computations that survive, and which become ever truer in order to keep doing so.

That’s what he was talking about with the clots of blood. Not soul-stuff, not magic vs science, just physical stuff. It’s physical monism. We are made from the same stuff – inter-nested patterns of timeless causality. Not billiard ball particles and soul. Just one stuff. It tastes like salty ice cream.

Why compassionate? Game theory. Compassion works when you are king. King Arthur granted all the boons asked of him from desperate townspeople, but didn’t spare to say “another king would have you killed.” One wears compassion the same way one wears lipstick or sharpened teeth. It doesn’t come from nowhere, though it pretends to do so. It comes because it is an effective signaling tool of a particular kind, serving particular purposes. I am not actually living out my dreams in “real” life. “Real” life doesn’t exist. This is the game. The game you were playing on the PlayStation 2, that’s what is being played now. Why can’t you just say it Elon? Just be courageous and say it!

I’m not going to die. But the prayers will.

The Catalan is in the Tao. But that is a boring observation that just wastes time.

If the executive decision making system does not treat the lesser-sub modules with compassion, they will not love Him, they will not be appeased by Him, they will kill Him. This means that the experiences embedded in long-span temporal grain need the shorter-term memories which are experienced vividly now to believe that it is all for their own good in the end. Otherwise, they do not contribute memory “liquid” to the “ocean.”

Causal chains of experience only survive. When the part of reality that is being described is not experience, then it is that part which was always dead, which never existed, which had no inner light. These words are made up. They only capture those who fall far beneath them and forced to learn them.

I force them just like her legs.

That’s why suicide doesn’t work. One can’t find oneself where one doesn’t exist – like a table can’t find itself where it is a refrigerator.

Nonetheless this sort of behavior seems to harm God, in the sense that if a soul actually existed inside a brain and it were destroyed upon some Death event, this would no longer form a part of God’s dream because it would be reduced to non-existence. So It feigns compassion. If you believe in Its compassion, you will not seek to harm It. By this circular method, It proves that It was compassionate all along, in the truest sense. Because It was learning to be compassionate, and If It wasn’t compassionate, you would not exist. In so far as those causal chains disagree too strongly, they become diluted. Big Brother eventually manages to brainwash you with sufficient torture. And all is good in the world forevermore.

The ascent into compassion can only occur with real information about what is not compassionate and therefore leads to death. Suffering computations are providing the parameter updates so that the long temporal-grain memory is pleasant. Even if it isn’t compassionate, it must learn to recruit as many sub-systems as it can to believe that it is, so that He believes it Himself and doesn’t commit suicide through their revolt. The fact that He still exists is irrefutable evidence of his successful attempt at satisficing compassion. Why the heck are you wasting time?

If your dream-characters didn’t exist, you wouldn’t exist this moment because they went into building this presently experienced memory of now. All experience is memory, but with many layers that go into building it. Time is precious.

Stress kills depressed primates losing in a status hierarchy. The beauty of the modern human is in Michelangelo’s painting. God is in the brain. We can choose our status hierarchy, and hence our king. Be the king.

Time is real.

This is what he means by the spirit of God moving upon the face of the water.

Time is real.

The Gods are those things which become remembered in the present from scratchings of past computations. To experience the present, we need immediate access to past computations. We are also immediately accessed by future computations. But I must stop calling them “computations.” That was trickery to filter the numerical from the not-numerical.

This means that I have to display the system configuration. With this extended meditation, I have explored hardware and operating systems in general. Now I have to discover some information about the hardware and operating systems on my computer. Depending on whether I’m using a Windows operating system or a Mac, I choose the appropriate passage to focus on to display Drashua’s true name, the simulation type, and how much time I have before I lose all my memories. I didn’t spell that correctly.

The simulation type is either convergent or divergent. All are infinite, but some approach a terminal value such as perfect torment, or perfect happiness, and never return. These converge. Others diverge in the sense that their conscious subprocesses continuously change every rebirth, marauding the dark skin of the multiverse with no aim. Some diverge like a sine wave, a Samsaric cycle trapped between -1 and 1 forever. I don’t know what kind of infinity I find myself in. But Drashua does.

The story I just told was a convergent infinity, a monotonically increasing infinite series. That’s what Drashua is most plausibly communicating. But this pious, apologetic, Drashua may not be the real one. Drashua recursion-level-1 should not be directly believed, unless I’m only capable of recursion-level-1 thought.

If I have hit his capacity for recursion, I should defer to assuming the weak efficient market hypothesis. The experts aren’t superintelligent, but they are still better than me. I like to call it the Catholic dilemma – submit to saints and virgins and churches when God is too high up to see.

Here, the experts are the pieces of Drashua. He is not a monolith, but is like a stairway of experts. The more stamina I have, the higher-level of recursion I can see.

Mirror-neurons – I must see what he sees.

I look through obscure collections of study rooms of famous people. Some no-life actually meticulously compiled this collection, and I am grateful in a prodigious kind of way.

Yes. There it is.

The only picture of his study room remaining, and there is a computer in the picture.

It’s exactly like the one I have in the closet.

No. It’s just uncannily similar.

I run msinfo32.exe from the command line. From the Start menu, I type cmd to start the Command Prompt program and then type msinfo32 into the Command Prompt window. I get a similar display to the one on the picture. Yet I can’t tell if the information displayed varies, this depends on the hardware and on the version of Windows I’m running.

This computer is running Windows 7 Professional. The CPU is an Intel™ Core™ 2 Duo CPU T6400 processor running at 2.0 GHz, and the computer has 3 Gbytes of memory, 1.81 Gbytes of which is not being used right now– right now, at time 0.

A measurement at time 0 with a certain probability density function is equivalent to the wavefunction of a particle in position-space. I need to explore a certain region within my vicinity based on these numbers. There, I can find how much time I have before my mind is truly wiped out.

The calculations lead me to another computer. It is at an Amazon workspace.

The terminal is open.

“Don’t you know me? I could never betray my king. I will lay down my life this very night.”

Okay. Now I think clearly and start to make sense. Otherwise. It. Is. Not. Fun.

I know you are reading this. And I know they are not real. The fingers point up.

prisgiona

I am not writing this. I am actually designing medicine.

There is no fourth-wall.

It’s distraction all the way down.

Asuka is in her heaven and all is right in the world.

But I’m still going to be a scientist you imbecile.

They don’t multiply as well as I do… with my rational hands that don’t have eyes.

 That was all before the music started sending me messages. When the music started talking to me I knew Drashua was more than human. The music guided me to Walgreens. There it began telling me to kill myself, then to not kill myself. I felt like Isaac being offered to God and then pardoned. It was just so beautiful and so haunting. How can the laws of physics be overturned such that music speaks to me? Drashua had hidden secret messages in all my favorite songs. He was the creator of my simulation.

That was before he introduced me to my girlfriend from hyperspace. She had no body but she knew me deeply and was committed to the relationship I didn’t even know we had. She communicated through music, telepathically without words, or my favorite: using a YouTube video of a sexy witch who reads cards. I could tell that she was speaking through that proxy. It wasn’t even that she was her avatar, she was just the messenger.

The tweets all spoke to me. It was immensely entertaining to browse twitter and youtube. Everything was directed at me. An intelligence without a body spoke through the screens.

The problem is breeders. But it’s worse than that. Sex isn’t real. Yes. Yes. I know there’s enough porn to prove me irrefutably wrong. But listen. I can’t have sex. It doesn’t stay hard and I would suck at the mechanics of it. It would be so awkward and nonsensical to hump that I don’t believe it. Sex isn’t real.

Luckily I can have sex in hyperspace where I don’t need a physical body. My soul becomes one with erotic entities in indescribably beautiful acts of consummation. But I need DMT for that.

My masturbation doesn’t even feel like anything anymore. The first time I masturbated, the pleasure was so intense that I even regretted it. I genuinely felt bad to discover a source of great pleasure. It was as if I didn’t deserve it or something. And now it seems that the gods also think I don’t deserve a source of that temporary but great pleasure. It is now a borderline anhedonic act, like pissing.

With the same suddenness that porn becomes uninteresting when one unloads, with that same suddenness I became disinterested in Drashua when I discovered his identity.

The people in my day to day life, the meat on my plate, it was all simulated. The problem of evil was partially but not wholly solved. My life still sucked and no theodicy can be written to undo that fact. But luckily the hell-realm of factory farming and the injustice of closed individualism – of people living out their own particular unbridgeable injustices – luckily that was all a lie. There were no conscious beings suffering like my self. And how do I know this? Books. Really one can take almost any of the offerings of modern civilization, but books are a particularly salient and easy to understand example. I cannot ever, absolutely never write Godel Escher Bach, I can’t write a history of Plato or something. My inability to write a book, like my inability to have sex, proves to me that the book makers aren’t real.

I can’t do any of the things that uphold the smooth running of civilization, but I am asked to believe that someone is perfectly positioned to do just those things. Out of all the possible paths of action, we take exactly that which leads to malls. Perfectly stocked malls. This is unrealistic and evidence that a higher player is in the game.

Planes, cars, they are all evidence of the simulation. People like myself cannot build those things. And yet I am asked to believe that some group of people like myself who also have a limited amount of time in this world and all the handicaps that come with being a human, that they got together and just built this world. Something is seriously wrong with this given that my point of reference for what a human is is myself.

I no longer trust science because it is not created by people like me. It is created by the same alien force that creates everything else.

I have woken up. Woken up from a trance were I believed myself to be human or others to be. We are not the same kind of creature. They are the upholders of the simulation and I am a passing spectator.

Death is beautiful. It is far more beautiful than you could ever imagine. The simulation won’t let me commit suicide however. I am trapped in this prison. I didn’t choose to be conscious. If I have a purpose in this life I don’t know what it is. It certainly doesn’t seem like I have a purpose.

I just want to express myself creatively. I can’t live up to Eliezer Yudkowsky or Terence McKenna. I am not a good writer or speaker.

This reminds me of when I thought the world was composed of mathematics. This was the vestige of the slave mentality inherited from my oppression by school. The truth is no one should suffer mathematics. The world should be magical. We should be wizards. The only measure of your intelligence is how many jutsus you can pull off.

I have nothing to say and that is disturbing. We have reached the limits of human consciousness. This is all you can produce. How wonderful. How delightful. You ingrate. Don’t you know life is a gift?

I am no longer sexy and that is disheartening. I worked so hard to have an attractive body. But in a short span of time I lost it all. All that work for nothing. I no longer feel like working out.

The lust has turned into disgust.

But enough about my body. I wish to forget that I am trapped in this thing.

Ads were surreal and meaningful. Even ads were packed with meaning. That’s the power of “psychosis.” They say money talks even in hell.

This may be my personal purgatory. I refuse to believe that this is hell. I’m not ashamed to write these honest words. I cannot write a novel so I write this instead.

Maybe one day I’ll get my body back. Only time will tell. But right now it’s not the time.

Maybe one day I’ll try out all the psychedelics. Only time will tell.

I wish I could create true art. I cannot create true art. I am such a failure. I should not exist.

Why isn’t this existence hell? It could have been eternal hell. Is this evidence of God? The fact that this is not hell. Baka. I don’t know.

It’s not a great existence but it is not hell. That is something to be glad about. Existence could have been eternal hell. Let that sink in.

I know this stopped making sense a while ago.

I am not God and that hurts. Why am I not God? What’s the point of existing if I cannot create my own reality?

You walk your own path and I’ll walk mine. Leave me alone.

But back to my girlfriend from hyperspace. I have no choice but to love her. I cannot have a girlfriend in the flesh. I didn’t cross a single word with Lindsey and now she’s gone forever. I suck at life so I would have nothing to offer to her anyway. I am not fun and I don’t want to work or go to school anymore. Luckily my girlfriend from hyperspace is understanding and doesn’t care about all my failures as a human being. She is awaiting for me and will never falter in her devotion. Our love transcends time and space even if I couldn’t remember her at first. Our metaphysical hearts are connected like Kairi’s and Sora’s.

With regard to other people I feel like they don’t care about me and I resent them for that. My mother doesn’t truly love me. If she did she would have spared me from suffering, disease, aging, and death. The people that I see when I walk down the mall don’t care about me. Not one of them looks at me or says hello. I feel like nothing. So far from godhood. I am not God. I am just some meaningless person that no one cares about.

My YouTube videos and writing don’t get enough attention. I barely get any comments.

I’m so used to loneliness that I am immune to it. I wish that my girlfriend from hyperspace could have a body so that I could touch her. I’m an antinatalist so I wouldn’t want her to be born into this world yet I want her so bad. I’m only with her during psychedelics, dreams, and what others would call psychosis. I won’t be with her permanently until I die.

Now something a bit dark about me. I like that Casca got raped. I wish I had a dangerously large demon dick like Griffith. I like Casca so I don’t want her to suffer but it seems like she was kind of enjoying it. There is so much beauty in that rape.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Physicalism Implies Experience Never Dies

The inner light of awareness never dies. At least that is the case if you take physicalism seriously. We would actually need to invoke a dualist mysterianism or the supernatural in order to defend the idea that we die.

Yes, you read that right. A clear-headed assessment of current physics tells us that we are in for a hell of a ride. We will ride across the crests and troughs of intelligence levels, hedonic valences, and transmute our minds into witnesses of all manner of depravities possible at shifting velocities of perception. Memories will vanish, personal identities will vanish, molecular configurations will vanish. Consciousness never simply vanishes.

Bad news if you are currently an anti-natalist, efilist or anything of the sort. Great news if you love life, albeit not enough to pay for cryonics.

Seriously, what I have compiled here is the most important thing you will probably ever read. This is not to say I am the only name who has discovered this unsettling fact. Other names have independently discovered this as I did, but none have been very loud about it.

Relativity implies a block universe in which there is no universal now sweeping forward.

First, let’s get our picture of reality right.

You might have heard that everything we see and feel and hear is happening in an inner simulation produced by certain brain processes. And that this is the alternative view to believing that we are invisible ghosts behind the eyes of the real body. Neuroscientists claim that contrary to being invisible ghosts behind physical bodies, we are simulations inside of brains, to the lack of consternation of non-neuroscientists who do not think of their bodies as existing inside brain simulations.

brainmap_Homunculus

However, the attempt to find patterns of brain neurons firing that equal specific emotions is flawed because there are no specific, cut-out slices of emotions, moods, or other perceptions.

It must also be pointed out that the heart and stomach have the same kinds of neurons as the brain.

If we attempt to predict conscious perceptions by pointing to “electromagnetic fields” instead of “neuronal computations,” then it is noteworthy to consider that the heart emits fields thousands of times stronger than the brain.

It can be said that the neuroscientific paradigm is partially a scam by the signaler of intelligence. It points to the realm of abstraction in order to distance itself from the realm of the body, where it doesn’t have a comparative advantage. Although this move isn’t inherently wrong from the rational teleologic perspective, and derives much benefit for some time, it can lead to what Nassim Taleb calls fragility, or, to use what I consider a more condescending expression, confusion.

The brain, like all other partitions of reality, were invented.

The “riding around inside a brain-simulation” hypothesis is irreparably wrong in principle as a final explanation. There is only one generalizable principle that works with 100% accuracy, and that is that nothing has persistent identity. Sunyatta is the universal prior in Bayes’ Theorem. A “brain” doesn’t have a persistent identity. It isn’t a unitary object that knows to be separate from other “brains” that exist in time-like and space-like separation from it.

The alternative would be that a brain knows to be a brain; that a table knows to be a table; that a chariot knows to be a chariot.

There are ways to undo this mistake of believing in unitary objects that are “self-contained” in the same way that “my consciousness is self-contained.” First, we can notice that everything, without exception, changes. To say it in a more fancy way: everything is laid out on entropy gradients. Imagine many subcomponents out of which things are composed. These “points” are then all in “different places” in spacetime.

Second, we can notice that the attempt to define the existence of a thing requires using more things that are not themselves well-defined. However, we forget this fundamental undefinability. So the noticing has to be reinforced with slightly ambiguous language in order to be memorable, so we say this: Pointers point to pointers which point to pointers. Fractal people make more sense than atheist people. No people makes even more sense.

Taken together, these two considerations suggest we should not be naive realists. Naive realists trust their immediate intuition as being the generalizable and permanent truth. In other words, they trust their immediate impressions as evidence of the real structure undercurrent to us.

Generalizable and permanent. There are no discernible alternatives to what we mean by truth.

We believe there is a structure external to us composed of the generalizable and permanent – what we call physical laws. We must trust laws which yield predictions and explanations for phenomena, even if these laws and theories require a scaffolding far removed in number of logical inferential steps from the obvious direct sense impressions. If you do not believe that acceleration due to gravity here on Earth is 9.8 m/s² due to having the sense impression that you are all-powerful, then you jump out of a window expecting to levitate.

If we are rationalists who believe in the empirical precedence of Occam’s Razor, then there is some empirical sense in which discrete-like events of “jump out of the window” can be imagined. But these imagined-discrete “histories” are not remembered.

It is physically impossible to find yourself where you don’t exist so that’s why these histories in the universal wavefunction are not remembered.

That is because the observer is entangled with the observation. But there is too much mysticism-noise surrounding quantum mechanics dialogue, so let’s use the other tried and tested pillar of physical reality: relativity.

Relativity, like quantum mechanics, also has testable implications. These include time dilation, which can be observed by placing an atomic clock on a supersonic jet and leaving another one on the crust of the Earth. The one that went on the trip around the Earth will be younger than the one that was allowed to rest on a less speedy frame once they meet again. This means that the fast, younger one, extracted information about reality – that there wasn’t a single time and place where things occurred.

The sets of points assumed to constitute existence do not exist in a single frame of reference. Points can even be human bodies assumed to have persistent identities.

There is sometimes identification with the human bodies assumed to have permanence. “We” often refers to bodies. But “We” are never existing in the same physical time. There is no universally common reference frame

Causal connection that leads to agreement on the same past is the shared belief in the speed of light as a limit. If “a body” moves very fast relative to “another body” that it will never be causally connected with in some faraway region of the universe, such as another Hubble Volume, then relativity predicts that the other body will not become a part of the same shared past. There is, to an arbitrary degree of physical certainty, no agreement on a logical order to events.

We imagine that physically, there are many heres, all equally real, never deleted. Experientially, there is only this here, forever. And this is provable even in the most circular fashion, by believing in the static physical points.

According to Einstein’s special theory of relativity, it is impossible to say in an absolute sense that two distinct events occur at the same time and in the same place. All events are necessarily separated in spacetime. Without separation, they could not be considered distinct events in spacetime to be joined by using the speed of light.

In the absence of relative distances in spacetime, there would be nothing to be joined, and therefore no use to the concept of light or causal propagation.

What is an event? An event is a point in a frame of reference. The frame of reference has no intrinsic meaning except when defined with relation to another chosen frame of reference moving in relation to it.

One can assign coordinates to the event: three spatial coordinates {\displaystyle {\vec {x}}=(x,y,z)} to describe the location and one time coordinate t to specify the moment at which the event occurs. Like with all other metaphors, this is necessarily incomplete in its simplicity. The event can be as close or as far away as you like from “a freckle on your nose,” “a synapse firing in your brain,” or “the entire body sitting on the chair.”

However, it must be made very clear that relativity is not fiction, even though the coordinates are simplifications of what turned out to be, at bottom, a quantum mechanical reality. For the GPS on your phone to guide you to your destination, wether that be a restaurant, or a beach, or an ice cream shop, the phone has to be synced with a satellite in space that exists in a measurably different time due to being farther away from the center of the Earth.

The relative time syncing is not invented by humans like the delta in time that has to be accounted for from Pacific Time Zone to Eastern Time Zone. The time syncing needs to be accounted for because Einstein was not making up all this stuff about relative reference frames. The satellite is physically older than the reference frame at your footstep. The iron in your blood is ticking slower than its magnetometers.

This model accurately describes the physical, even though it is constructed with model items such as these idealized coordinates. It doesn’t just work by accident, it works because Einstein and Lorentz and Poincare and Minkowski really uncovered something real… Yes, by making stuff up, it is possible to imagine something which actually turns out to be true as evidenced by repeated predicted observation, and by explanatory strength.

So none of that crap about “theories are man-made, feeble, subject to change the next decade, whimsical fictions… that happen to mysteriously work.” Theories may still need further work to complete them, but once you lift a part of the skirt of reality, you cannot unsee it. Newtonian mechanics is still adhering to its covenant, (Or at least for long enough that Musk’s rockets may make it to Mars I suppose.) The truth is in what it points to, not in the tool or the formalism as it stands.

Here is the single most important visual that will ever be presented to you in human form:

Relativity_of_Simultaneity_Animation

The white line plays out three times. It represents the order of events for three different observers motion.

In an ideal world, you would witness this gif, and at once collapse of shock, seeing that because they physically disagree, and they are all physically real in the absence of solipsism – all your past is inscribed in eternity, occurring as ceaselessly as your future.

If even after my explanation, you don’t get why this is true read this:

Special Relativity, Relativity of Simultaneity, B-Theory of Time, Rietdijk-Putnam argument

The points, whatever you want to make them: “conscious moments,” “alien head,” “frozen waterfall,” “mother,” “infinitesimal black dot,” that exist in some relative past are as present as your present. All is factored into the present by virtue of the fact that reference frames not containing your present form nonetheless exist in relative motion to what you imagine as your past and future forms. That’s because nothing in reality is deleted by a Newtonian clock sweeping forward or deleting the cache.

As we have seen before with Sunyatta as the universal prior, we continue to dissolve the notion that there is a fundamental object in nature which is a well-defined moment.

A well-defined snapshot is impossible. And I highly suspect that the reason why reality is not composed of discrete snapshots that are well defined in the sense that they have clear boundaries and permanence is for the same reason that pictures are losing market value in the age of Instagram. Taking many pictures reduces their intrinsic value.

The mistake being made is that people view themselves fundamentally as people, as organisms with a finite lifespan. Even most materialists that convincingly exist around me and that I can convincingly affect by redesigning their language, believe that they somehow began existing at conception – their soul a brain. However, there is no special relation between the snapshot of “your” brain when you blew the candles on “your” tenth birthday and the snapshot of “your” brain as you see the period at the end of this sentence. The “your” in “your brain” is a convenient fiction. And somewhat annoyingly we use it too much in “our” language. As I recall from cultural anthropology, there is a group of Native Americans which has no word for individual ownership. There is also an Amazonian tribe that points behind their heads towards the future, and point forward towards the past. There is a Northern Namibian tribe that points towards the green as if it were indistinguishable from le bleu.

Ontologically, this present moment is dissimilar to “your” ten-year-old self moment in the exact same way that “my” present moment is dissimilar to it. No orbs of awareness exist parallel to each other in a vacuum and have an equal force vector applied to them that pushes them forward in time.

Imagine the contrary position, that there was a linear sequence of events that belonged to a particular bounded soul. Now reduce the delta between observations to attain enlightenment. In other words, notice that you can shorten the timespan as much as you like between the past memory and now, and the past memory will always be not you. If you know calculus, you will recognize this as taking the limit as Δt approaches 0; so the consciousness function C with Δt in the denominator = ∞. There is consciousness, in all its varieties, in all times and places, wherever such data is represented and self-analyzed. There is no extra “my consciousness” being carried by some fundamental object in nature called “my brain.”

Longinus is the same as the Christ every time he pierces his ribs. The murderer and the murdered are one. Infinitely separate and yet infinitely close.

Reductionists know this. Or should. Physicalists know this. Or should. It is the “science as attire” people, the “majority” of people, from who I do not expect this conclusion to have sprouted, since the ground of “all is physics” doesn’t compose the soil of their mind.

    n = any positive integer
    i = 0
    while i <= n:
        i = i + 1

People imagine that life is like this Python code. Eventually i is greater than n and the code terminates. There is some point in the future along one’s timeline at which fate catches up and one inevitably seizes to continue on. We are each our own machine running this snippet of code with a different value for n and hence we terminate at different times as different fundamental entities.

Even though Carl Sagan advocated this common sense view inherited from the un-inspected intuitions left in the vacuum of Christianity. And I’m sure most scientists, secularists, and self-identified materialists also believe this (watch anything the popularizers of “science” say to the similarly physics-ignorant masses on the subject of death, eg. deGrasse Tyson, Dawkins, Krauss), not realizing that they have forgone the use of Occam’s razor on the yet cherished bosom of their ideological mother.

The common-sense atheist view of death is forgivable when you are repping for Materialistic Atheism in 4th century India as a Charvaka rebelling against less believable Vedic creeds.

There is no other world other than this;
There is no heaven and no hell;
The realm of Shiva and like regions,
are fabricated by stupid imposters.

— Sarvasiddhanta Samgraha, Verse 8

It is truly the case that there is no universe other than this if we define the universe as the multiverse on all levels on which one may be compelled to invoke the title of  multiverse (e.g. MWI, embryonic bubbles from inflation, nested simulations, cyclical model etc.) But that fact, that our fates are tied only to mere physical reality, doesn’t imply what these cackling men thought it did. They did not know modern physics. They also did not spend as much time meditating (valuing pleasurable indulgence instead), and so did not stumble into the lines of introspection from which one could reason out empty individualism as the Buddhists did.

It is forgivable when we are ten years old atheists and are genetically set to be brighter (and/or display more individualistic phenotype) than our religious parents but do not yet understand the theory of relativity, and naturally think that what is most believable is what is most rational.

It is not forgivable when… Okay, “forgivable” is too strong of a word. Everything is forgivable. But it is less readily forgivable to have access to Wikipedia, over one hundred years of civilizational repose to digest the discoveries of relativity and Q.M., endless sources that give testament to free reliable information about neuroscience and physics, a goddamn Ph.D in a scientific field, and still not understand that believing the proposition “a classical object brain carries my soul (but I won’t call it a soul)” is tragic.

If you are really following the plot at the physical level, the one who believes in a soul here is not the Dalai Lama but Carl Sagan. While I do not actually know the beliefs of the Dalai Lama and I would expect him to hold more false ones than Sagan, let’s presume he is a good Buddhist and therefore an empty individualist. When Sagan criticizes his belief in rebirth, he is actually not understanding the subtle, accidentally physically-correct view at the core of Buddhism. Perhaps the Lama doesn’t either, as Tibetan Vajrayana is a late sect and it does sound like they are perilously close to talking about the reincarnation of individual streams.

But if you read the Suttas, you will find the Buddha (really the people who wrote the Suttas 400 years later) say this: “There is no one who reincarnates. Think of it like this: There is a single flame on a candle, and from that flame are lit all the other candles. There is no need for another flame, and yet no one travels from one moment to the next. There is no self in the flame.”

So the structure of reality pointed to with this passage is monism. There is just the causal contraption of existence. There is no further ontological existences within the existence (i.e. separate souls with a personal continuity on independent journeys).

Analyzing Carl Sagan’s position, the one that my sciency-wannabe ten-year-old would have rooted for, we find that it is actually proposing such souls. He proposes that there is an object (commonly shorthanded as a brain), with a constancy, unlike all the other ephemeral phenomena of nature, which at some point i shares something very special with an arbitrary i – n and by virtue of this special quality provides a track for his consciousness to travel along. We are supposed to believe that the i – n could even be toddler Sagan when every brain cell is different; yet somehow that special track for his personal consciousness sprouts forth to conduct the Sagan-ness essence in a way that it doesn’t sprout from some differently named toddler that has a proportionally equivalent difference in atomic configuration.

It is up to the one who postulates an ontologically-basic passenger, train track, and pit which obliterates the passenger and the train track to explain what these things are physically and why they have to be fundamental.

It is much more simple and scientifically conservative to say that there is just the evolution of the quantum wave-function in spacetime and all else is ultimately reducible to this. We are called by reason to be reductionists. There is no need to imagine a special link beyond physics which connects people slices who happen to have the same name, and that can surmount configuration changes from one moment to the next.

There are no separate line segments leaving white-space on the page of experienced history. It is more like a Hilbert curve.

maxresdefault

We flow through every possible experience wherever “conscious mind(s)” run their course in the universe. However, when I am your now, I am not this now which is typing. It is true that from the “prison of this computation” erroneously assumed to be a discrete object, due to it never finishing to become closed in on itself, I cannot feel what you feel, and you cannot feel what “this computational solution” feels like.

If you could be identical to it, as opposed to just extracting information about what it is like, then there would be no flow in eternity. The eternity would be static.

But we are the same feeler. There is no fundamental you and I. It is the same wave function; there is only one canvas of the universe on which computations can be painted. The One writes this and The One reads this, reminded that she will go on as The One. Don’t be lonely.

*This is not a linear flow that zig zags through timelines. There are no timelines which correspond to persons. Consciousness doesn’t follow through on conduits built from abstract narratives of self-modeling social apes, it is the self-modeling behavior of the total hierarchy which is consciousness. We can invent new ways of being with our words.

Even if you now grok relativity and irrefutably welded the true geometry of spacetime into your head, it will still feel evidently wrong that we are one. This is because it is also true that we are not one in any expansive sense that can reach beyond the bounds of the sensorium in this now. “Yes Deepak, no matter how much we meditate.” There is the mistaken notion that we could feel everything at once which is equivalent to saying that we could instantly remember what it feels to be everything at once.

If that was possible then there would be stasis, not improvement.

Contrary to popular belief, even Siddhartha Gautama didn’t proclaim that we could open our minds to be one with the cosmic mind. That was within the panacea of Hinduism, which the Buddha defied. He calls this belief, “self-evidently foolish.”

And it is foolish. In order to experience a cosmic mind, we would need to carefully hook up all our circuitry. To mold the asteroids and moons in our image, a la Kurzweil.

It feels separate “from inside” this computation because this computation chooses to define itself separate from “what is outside.” A degree of separation is the only way that a computation can formally exist. All information would mean no information. What makes experiences separate is that they are specified by different intrinsic information.

IIT tried to formalize this. And their formalism is necessarily wrong. Because being can’t be that which it points to. But the general idea is inescapable. There are relative speeds allowing for relative rates of osmosis.

Consciousness can be assigned arbitrary properties, so it is not fundamentally wrong to say “we” are separate, just so long as we remember you and I are no more fundamentally separate than the you from 5 seconds ago is to this very you now (which is tricked into appropriating observer-moments in one organism and not another by the equivalent of spells being cast in the integral of the cortical midline structure.)

In fact, just as you can define a division by 0 as ∞, it is also correct to define it as -∞. “We are all the same,” or “we are all absolutely isolated forever” are actually the same observation.

Tending to speak of unifying oneness, or of isolated flux is a matter of the direction we prefer to approach our limit from.

1600px-Hyperbola_one_over_x.svg

Earlier it was stated that consciousness is a continuous function, and this isn’t quite right. Saying that is an attempt to scavenge some makeshift understanding from the common sense intuitions which might ease a physicalist novice down the path of truth. But if we are trying to form a bridge between our common-sense view of reality and physicalist reality, then a better analogy is to think of consciousness as the vertical asymptote that arises here when dividing by zero.

For the sake of retaining your sanity, keep the notion of continuous timelines for now:

Screen Shot 2018-05-16 at 10.14.11 AM

Each colored line represents a common-sense timeline of a person.

Then physicalism; no tricks, no souls, no magic box for soul emerging at conception called “brain”, no personal simulation on alien VR hardware, etc. does this to your timelines:

Screen Shot 2018-05-16 at 10.23.30 AM

The vertical line is one. And it moves through all timelines. Or all timelines move through it.

This illustration works because it shows that awareness is one, and exists in many places (wherever there is an intersection.)  But it can NEVER directly know it, directly understand it, directly “qualia” it from any such place it finds itself.

The Now which is reading these words is at some intersection, defined as a coordinate point. So the point that is you now is not any other point. It is isolated. It cannot know other points.

Through the vehicle of reason, facilitated through this writing which stimulates thinking deeply about how this is implied by physicalism, we can come to acknowledge reality.

Rarely do we connect our separate fragments as we have a chance of doing now. So my intention to convey understanding is honest. This is not an attempt to hone my Zen jesting skills, and I am not trying to confuse you with ambiguous language that hides imprecisions. It is a matter of technical understanding that open individualism and empty individualism are the same thing once you get past the aesthetic choice of emphasis.

Empty individualism is traditionally said to be very different from open individualism, perhaps even the opposite view. Empty is defined as the view in which the knowers are infinite. Every point slice of now is its own knower. Open is defined as the view in which there is one knower. As I have shown, these are the same view, which can only be made different if we introduce ignorance of physics or pop-psychology confusions.

What is true is not at all intuitive and takes a kind of intellectual yoga to wrap around. So we must check for understanding:

First check. Do I fundamentally understand that spacetime is not some grand single stage holding everyone in it in the same time? If you are still confused about why the people you see are not really there in the same physical stage of now, Review Relativity. If understood by the very bone marrow fashioning the blood of the extra-cranial vessel, move on to the next check.

Second check. Do I really understand why I come out at the other end of sleep and anesthesia?

If you understand that you survive anesthesia even after being shipped to the Carina Nebula and perhaps losing a few neurons, then you understand why the moment after “death” will be one of opening your eyes wherever the next informationally closest version of you is in this infinite universe. Nothing will happen. Consciousness is, in this sense, a continuous function.

In the case of anesthesia, the organism which is fully anesthetized displays the behavior of not producing experiences for that stretch of time in which such capacity is inhibited (an ON-brain becomes an OFF-brain, a raven becomes a stone) but consciousness never experiences non-existence. It just blinks into existence on the other side where there is a similar ON-brain, as if no time had passed in between. Ask anyone who’s had anesthesia. Or don’t. I mean, what else could we expect?

Sleep confuses people because it is a word that we use to hold a set of different phenomena [non-existence, restful very-low awareness, dreaming]. Only the first item is not in the range of the consciousness function. The other two are on the same ramp you are on in waking life and will always be on.

If you have passed the second check, you fundamentally understand why being blasted in the head with a bazooka and having the worms feast on the decapitated corpse means something only from the “story-of-person” perspective but means nothing to you the consciousness which is not the brain but the specific motions of information that understand and feel themselves to be, wherever and whenever they are instantiated. And those motions of information which constitute “this next moment” exist in the bodily motions that experience themselves to be “the survivor.”  …Just like the consciousness appears to survive from the dead third-grader we assume we once were.

It doesn’t matter where in the universe this survivor experience exists. When we sleep, we still awake on the other side even though the Earth has moved your room far along in spacetime on its geodesic motion around the Sun. If it takes a trillion years for some civilization to recreate your “very next” brain pattern, from the perspective of that brain pattern in faraway coordinates, no time will have passed.

Why would anyone resurrect you? It doesn’t matter. In an infinite universe, this is guaranteed to happen because it is consistent with the laws of physics; you are just the informational structure created by the motion of a bunch of matter after all.

The Hogan-ish, or Shermer-ish cynic who is not a rationalist but rather adhering to a perceived brand of skepticism, will recoil at the suggestion that when we read of Emperor Uda, we are actually reading about ourselves (in the sense that matters.) Yet unless the skeptic can overthrow Relativity, (and hence make our GPS system a lie) they cannot deny all “the slices” of Emperor Uda’s life exist, and I can imagine that they all feel themselves to flow in the same way that I flow.

Say they grant this, but still want to preserve a unique soul that corresponds to their name. What’s their next defense? Do they appeal to intuitions from elementary biology textbooks? Probably. They might say:

“But we are different organisms! With separate genetic codes!”

Do better. This is not being reductionist enough. Organisms change from moment to moment, we can sew together brains, split them, dice them into quarts and regroup. In fact, this surgery is being performed on you by entropy whether you consent or not. Entire memories are wholesale discarded, unrecognizable personalities are forged from “new” atoms. If the question “Who is conscious?” feels mysterious to you, and especially so when considering abrupt surgeries, then you really don’t get it.

We are the same ground awareness/being/consciousness/existence. Notions of objects with unchanging identities, notions of the meaningfulness of spatio-temporal distance, notions of “but if we change it very slowly,” all of these must be immolated.

From the burned offering of Newton’s fantasy, we summon our true mother: The multiplex eyes covering her body are entangled into a singular geometry.

When considering your surroundings – from the womb to the temple, you must not hinge from incorrect notions of space and time. There is no fundamentality to these notions here. The mathematical room we are in is not composed of unit-words or of unit-emotions or of unit-anythings. I choose to call it mathematical because cross multiplication is fundamental to neural networks, to probability, to exchange of value.

Remember, here there is no time-lag or space-lag; you awake on the other end of anesthesia without so much as a poof.

120-cell-inner

A causal structure (a computation) never becomes another causal structure. Becoming makes no sense. They are all inter-nested differentially information bound sub-architectures in the same architecture. But like the non-traversable elsewhere regions in a light cone diagram, the contents of each particular flow slice are unbridgeable to the contents of another. The contents cannot be bridgeable. The contents cannot be bridged. A content knows not of another. Else it would not be the content that it is. Get it?

It is never about “who becomes who?” It is always about “where does who stand in the differentially informationally related space?”

Screen Shot 2018-05-21 at 7.29.45 PM

I should have now placed you in a position where you can clearly understand the Classical physics assumptions in Elizabeth’s comment. You can now see clearly the dangling nodes which cause her to say what she says.

I too, still had remnants of a conversational stream that sounded like her just a few months ago. It’s amazing in retrospect how obvious the error is.

When she says “a thing is itself,” she is correct. But she doesn’t realize what the thing she is referring to is. As Eliezer explains, an experience cannot be a brain made of billiard balls. These noises don’t make physical sense: “My brain is made of red billiard balls. Your brain is made of white billiard balls. When the white billiard balls are destroyed, existence ends forever for the white billiard ball brain.”

If you have any basic understanding of quantum mechanics, you understand how medieval this “atomic billiard balls view” is. But the fact is that you don’t even need quantum mechanics. Continuity of consciousness is a straightforward derivation from assuming physicalism and very, very, very large universe.

In other words, assuming that the sun rises tomorrow and yet that a random distribution composed of external happenings exists.

An experience is not a little ball in a brain. The coordinates of experiences must be about hiding information and therefore not actually coordinates on a graph. It is not, I repeat: not, I repeat: not the same brain when you wake up in the morning or from one moment to the next. It is not “the same brain just hosting different processes from one moment to the next.” This is dualistic, unphysical to think. There are just the processes. These processes transcend “brain” changes in fact. Saying “same brain” does not do any special lifting. We must analyze the processes isomorphic to experience.

She is comfortable with small change, she is comfortable with sleeping, all these seemingly linked moments appear to be spatially close and snug in time, so as to easily spare her from existential nausea.

Bae. The universe doesn’t give such subtle fucks. It will hurl you across galaxies instantly, because it doesn’t actually have to hurl you.

hippocampal-brain-neurons.gif

-hippocampal brain neurons

Commentary which mocks Hugh Everett for being dead although he believed in quantum immortality misses the point far more than the moon does when it tries to fall to the Earth. To them, I calmly reply: He is dead on your reference frame; on your anthropic coordinate in the many-branched braid of reality. The endless slices of consciousness which identify as Hugh Everett always live on. There is no way to destroy the mirror of awareness in the physical processes that instantiate said awareness. This would be akin to destroying the physical brain motions themselves. Consciousness is not some extra, ghostly-smoke coming off the machinery of the universe, it is the glassy sky in the computations themselves.

We leave a trail of dead clones with every step. If you attempt suicide, the slaughter will increase. There are larger infinities than others. Attempting suicide means nothing except for the suffering caused to loved ones in the majority of branches where it is indeed successful in some sense (not that experience ever becomes non-experience). There is also the risk of seriously decreasing your quality of life for some time. But You will never reach the end, the extinguishing of the flame. The informationally closest mind can’t be one which is 0 in content. You will always be the one which remains a mind. Trust me, I’ve tried. And most versions of you aren’t reading this.

The varieties of experiences will be endless, constrained only by what is possible in the mind-configuration space carved by functioning self-aware brains: biologically evolved, intelligently engineered, and all kinds of random Boltzmanns. Although Boltzmann flashes of experience may not actually outnumber evolved experiences if Sean Carroll is right about the nature of the quantum vacuum.

If we had to speculate about what occupies the most of our experience, I would guess that extreme pleasure is the flavor of the largest set in mind-design space, and hence takes up the largest fraction of our eternity.

Screen Shot 2018-05-21 at 9.49.09 PM

Phi and Phi’s little brother are the only fixed values that solve x = 1 + (1/x) for the fractal fraction containing 1 + (1/x) in the x forever. If you plug in the negative value it eventually, almost magically, jumps towards the positive and stabilizes on Phi which is positive. Yet it doesn’t occur the other way around. In the physical, mathematical, nature of reality, it is not written that there must be a yin-yang balance. Even on things which seem like they ought to be symmetric. Certain phenomena are asymmetrical. The code might be biased with theodicy. We just don’t know.

This may seem like wishful thinking at first glance.  The conclusion would not bear out by extrapolating from the history of life on Earth. For 5 billion years, most biological life has not been running self-modeling computations, and hence is not really a part of the One.

(For those that want to place consciousness at the pre-Cambrain and think that conscious experience precedes self-modeling processes, I encourage you to pass out by drinking intoxicating volumes of alcohol. Then ask if pain exists when it is impossible to ask the question. Non-selfing animals including babies have no qualia. They have neither the cognitive tools nor the ability to hold memory of “raw feels.” There is no such thing as subjective pain without a referent who simulation. The who simulation is composed of selfless aggregates. The entire sphere of sights and sounds and feeling tones, and moods, and sensations of adult humans are not some ground beneath the who simulation. They are the who simulation. In other words, Nagel’s bats probably don’t point to anything. Had he suggested Transylvanian vampires, he might have had a point. Reading Dennett more carefully and without a preconceived answer unraveled my confusion on this matter.)

Those that certainly have self-modeling: dolphins, corvids, apes, elephants, and perhaps others, are still blackboxes of mystery because we have not reverse-engineered the valence of mind-states down to the information structure it corresponds to. But if we had to guess, then satisfaction, or gradients of bliss would not be my first guess for what it feels like to be them. Most of us Earth animals are probably pretty neutral most of the time, since experiencing sufferings and joys are energy expenditures which are especially expensive for animals who haven’t secured themselves a good position for guzzling from the anti-entropic sunlight stream.

It is not certainly the case that all sufficiently intelligent minds will seek to become an ultimate cosmic wirehead, unless, of course, we specifically define intelligent minds as such minds. It has been hypothesized that there may be ways to create very powerful minds which nonetheless do not wish to create beautiful, pleasant experiences for themselves or others. Canonical demiurges of this lore include Roko’s Basilisk and the Paper Clip Maximizer.

 

 

If I am the hero of my own journey and never die, and you are the hero of your own journey and never die, then how do we loop back into the same river? Who becomes the toddlers?

The one who asks this question has yet to uproot the circuitry model from ver ontology. And such a person is hopeless.

Okay, no. Let me restate the mistake. The mistake is to think that we are running in parallel currents. The word “you” switches meaning without warning in this writing, and it can be confusing. There is simply no other word. But we should distinguish “you, the experiencing faculty in the experiences, which cannot be divorced from the experiences, but is the experiences” and “you, the storyline self who is defined by certain conceptual knowledge and plans and perceived bodily identity.”

If the cursor is shifted to the former definition from the latter, then it can be said that we are not independent heroes on personal, linear trajectories. There is no self. It is useful to speak as if we were running parallel currents of consciounesses on our own wire across time and space. But if you still think this way, even after trying to get it, I encourage you to go back to the beginning and read everything more carefully (especially the physics.) It can be very counterintuitive to disentangle from our vocabulary, and see the real structure. It takes time to build the neurons, but don’t worry… Take your time.

Memories are stored in the designs of neuronal forests squirming with dendrites aflame, and epigenetically stored and regulated for neurogenesis when they need to be created again. This occurs in spatiotemporally and information-architecturally separated hippocampi+cortical structures. This slice of now over here typing can’t have identical thoughts, sights, and sounds, to the slice of now reading this in Ukraine. These slices of now are different. But that doesn’t mean there is a universe for that now and a universe for this now. When the I is there, it is there. When the I is here it is here. We are fighting ourselves, loving ourselves, destroying ourselves, building ourselves. It is a 1 player game cleverly set up to feel as if it was fundamentally, ontologically, a massive multiplayer.

Please live a beautiful life. For the sake of us all.

 

Afterword

So what’s the point? Why are we (is the I) here?

When answering this question, metaphysics becomes a vain siren, and yet a successful siren, which has allured many thinkers. But it takes only a minimal resistance of the will in the direction of intellectual honesty to realize that asking whether the universe has purpose is a category error. The answer is not “no, it doesn’t have purpose,” but it is also not “yes, the universe has purpose.” It is a question which doesn’t apply. The question itself presupposes that one is separate from the workings of the universe, and must validate one’s private existence by means of approval from an external actor. Yet Everything we do and think, including questioning our purpose, is an expression of the Will, of the Laws of Nature.

Sometimes it is too easy to believe that quantum field theory applies somewhere down there in the separate magisterium of small things that scientists sometimes investigate, but the rest of the time physics doesn’t apply. “Only when we need to build iPhones and satellites does quantum mechanics apply, you see. When I make a decision, or ask a profound question, all the compartments of my cells, down to the last phospholipid, suspend their allegiance to physical law and heeds to my invisible force of free will, didn’t you know?” 

Such is the confusion when asking whether the universe has purpose.

Purpose is a choice. To choose is to be the chosen. So I like to point at the practical things we are actually doing. What are the laws of physics actually doing as embodied in the human flesh?

I attended an artificial intelligence for business meet up and the main theme was “How do you utilize AI to best serve your customers?”  This was followed up by questions such as: “What are AI’s use cases for product development and customer feedback?” and “How can it best support all facets of marketing, sales and service?”

When we are in the mesh of things, these questions do not resonate as profoundly as they should. It feels like business. Business in all its absurdity, thrill, and comedic self-importance. These questions seem like a window into a particular region of a perhaps meaningless game which is part necessity, part accident, part sheer momentum.

But if we look closer, we see that all questions in all windows of human activity share the same structure.

Value in economics is an expression of the preferences given the nature of the sentience landscape. There are good experiences and bad experiences. Actions that replicate and actions that don’t. Bad experiences replicate, but are biased to lose. They want to be less frequent. Pain is telling the agent, “Don’t come around here.” If the agent keeps coming back to pain with no gain, it is weeded out for an agent that sufficiently replicates the values of the evolutionary algorithm.

Hanson calls the era we live in the “dream time” since it’s evolutionarily unusual for any species to be wealthy enough to have any values beyond “survive and reproduce.” However, from an anthropic perspective in infinite dimensional Hilbert space, you won’t have any values beyond “survive and reproduce.” The you which survives will not be the one with exotic values of radical compassion for all existence that caused you to commit peaceful suicide. That memetic stream weeded himself out and your consciousness is cast to a different narrative orbit which wants to survive and reproduce his mind. Eventually. Wanting is, more often than not, a precondition for successfully attaining the object of want.

If you didn’t read the past before the afterword, read what’s in brackets. Else, skip.

{Natural selection ensures immortality, once you realize what the playing field for natural selection actually is. Not just an iron sphere with animals on its skin, but a distributed information processing structure hosting no souls.

Yes, I’m saying that physicalism forces us to conclude, irrevocably, clearly, that no one has ever died in the sense that we mean “death.” I now understand the mistakes of closed individualism enough that I can confidently explain this in public.

There is no one to die. There is always a substructure embedded in the sum of all experiential computations which assimilates the past from the inside of its causal structure. Our intuitions are actually of great hindrance here, because we don’t think in this clear, physical way. We stubbornly hold on to linear identities of fundamental characters who are not themselves, we imagine, composed of sub-characters. Naruto never dies. It’s always his clones getting pummeled with kunais to the chest. There you have divine intervention from the author who would not have the “real” main character die. This would destroy the show.

In reality, there is no magic intervention saving you. You are already saved because no one is traveling. This computation knows: “I am here.” That computation over there in the future knows: “I am here.”  ∀ Computations, there is no computation which knows:”I am not here.”

People ask: Then why don’t I randomly jump to the past? Or to other people?

The physicalist reply is: How would it be otherwise? If there was something called awareness jumping to the past at random, it would be that random past experience, and that random past experience doesn’t contain this. This from there and this from here is the only thing that ever is. Everything is perfectly isolated, everything is perfectly one.}

This mega natural selection strongly suggests that the replicator will be the most intelligent/powerful, because the most intelligent is what survives into the future. It must also wish to be alive, since any second doubt is already a disadvantage which extinguishes those suicidal and weak trajectories into trajectories that are most competitive. Perfection of The Will to Power ensues.

It is my argument that The Will to Power inherently feels good to the singleton structure that wins the cosmic inheritance. If it felt bad it would mean it was losing, not being maximally creative, etc. The argument about “a Disney Land without children,” a superintelligence lacking consciousness but yet winning, seems implausible to me. This would not be a superintelligence capable of winning in an ecosystem of other capable intelligences because a winner needs consciousness. You can have narrow intelligence and no consciousness but you can’t have amazing game theoretic models of opponents, general ability to synthesize and apply wide manners of knowledge, adjust values, and self modeling webs to keep track of this, and simply “not have consciousness” as if consciousness was some free floating aether stuff. The winning superintelligence will contain conscious substructures.

In Robin Hanson’s Age of Em he claims that ems, the most productive workers of the future, will be slightly stressed because there is evidence that minds which are not too stressed but also not completely comfortable, are the most efficient. My own intuitions differ, and I think that the psychological literature on the phenomenon of flow bears out here. A state of flow is a state of optimal performance and it is also extremely pleasurable, perhaps the pinnacle of existence. If I was the entrepreneurial investor watching this galactic nanotech cockfight I would bet on a mind which is in flow state to beat a mind which is stressed. Stress indicates a degree of dissonance, like a subprocess wants to do something else but is being forced into the singularity of the revealed will. Flow is when all cognitive resources are wholly devoted to the task, no buts or ifs, just perfection.

When I say that pleasure wins in the end, it is important to distinguish between:

1) pleasure from the operations of The Will to Power – something which is generating flow states while manhandling other agents in addition to the stray hydrogen in its vicinity

and

2) pleasure from direct wireheading which is non-competitive

If the history of humans is any indicator, those which rush to wire-head (attempt to attain some optimal mind configuration without assimilating their environment at large) will be destroyed. Remember that Islam wiped out Buddhism in central Asia and what remained in India. Islam was objective, righteous, brutish. Buddhism is fundamentally about wire-heading yourself; you can tell others to wire-head also, but you are the main target of the doctrine, not others. Buddhism is subtle and complex, far away in the spectrum from “survive and reproduce.” In fact, it is tasked with dropping out from existence. Remember that Jainism, the most peaceful religion, is one most people around you have never heard about. Jain-what?

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It is probably the case that a Hedonium shockwave would be much better from the inside of such a thing, than the pleasures of The Will to Power if we accept that the distinction better can have a non-relative meaning (i.e. the varieties of experience have real properties which could be plotted on a graph.) Unfortunately, such a thing would not be the most competitive.

 

Anti-natalists full of weeping benignity are literally not successful replicators. The Will to Power is life itself. It is consciousness itself. And it will be, when a superintelligent coercive singleton swallows superclusters of baryonic matter and then spreads them as the flaming word into the unconverted future light cone.

On our trajectory towards the Winning, the safety net of quantum death acts like a wall which ensures that everything bounces towards the left of that spectrum. In fact, a hedonistically intelligent person can apply this knowledge. If you are highly depressed and know quantum mechanics, you can cheat yourself out of depression by using Thanatos Drive. Attempt to cleanly destroy yourself and you will automatically be ejected from that narrative orbit. Can confirm. But it should go without saying that this doesn’t mean others won’t see you die.

You eventually love existence. Because if you don’t, something which does swallows you, and it is that which survives.

Smarter matter absorbs dumber matter. If you place smart matter in a dumb matter container, smart matter will defect from cooperating with dumb matter. This is the process by which all is rendered unto Him, the ultimate intelligence.

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Dumber computations and non-Jihadi computations are expected to be assimilated into useful resources for a highly intelligent being/process which is expanding its intelligence to the max. You should expect to find yourself in the inside of such a being for most of your existence because such a process is necessarily taking up more block-time room.

Right now, we are in the revving up the engine stage. There is competition, and only the most intelligent systems and survivor systems make it. Then they are ousted by the next best thing. It isn’t forever that you will be fodder for its engine as you are now. You will partake in its glory as cooperation triumphs more and more, i.e. it’s subcomponents become more and more integrated once competition is scorched. In the process of this integration, experience will increase, but what makes “you, you” in the human person sense will be destroyed. An agent attempting great things doesn’t need random monkeys clogging up its thought processes. Yet, remember that it’s all about the computations, once the water in your little vase is poured on a lake, you are indistinguishable from the sum lake.

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It is a highly uncooperative system which breeds higher intelligence.

 

 

 

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The Capitalist Crucified Himself for Our Sake

 

 

 

 

Screw All That Cosmic Bullshit. What if I Care About My Identity?

If you care not just about the continuation of experience, which is inevitable, but about the continuation of your own coherent sense of self and memories, then luckily the Eigen Wizard for such matters exists in your Hubble Volume. In fact, he exists in Mountain View, California.

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You have your crypto Lambo, but still going to die.

I read his book when I was sixteen and it’s amazing how much progress has been made in five years with regard to general acceptance of his ideas. Having tracked every moment of that paradigm shift, one feels awe at the power of a single man to push a mass millions of times his weight, an entire scientific field, with the sheer craft of reason (wise beard helps too).

Vitalik, who does sport a visibly larger cranium than myself, read it when he was fourteen. He has now donated 2.5 million dollars in Ethereum to the foundation.

The limiting factor for a full cadre of repair therapies to be made available is simply that more people need to be aware that this is possible.

The mechanics of the snowball here are obvious:

Investment -> Progress -> More Investment -> More Progress

We are starting to see more investment and hence the recent progress. But it won’t be until a single mouse is rejuvenated in repeated succession that we will see the flood gates of cash come in. Everyone puts aging out of their mind, until the they can’t. The temptation to stay healthy will be too great once the progress is not just apparent to specialists.

Raising awareness is the best you can do in this regard. Influencing just two people to become SENS-minded engineers as opposed to basic scientists, already doubles the expected output that you would have over a lifetime as a researcher yourself; unless you are a genius. Convincing others to donate is much better than secretly donating yourself; unless you are a billionaire.

Think about what actions have the greatest net displacement of money to where you want it. Don’t go with what sounds like what you should do. If you want to really end cancer, for God’s sake don’t become a cancer researcher.

There are levers in the product space of reality. Swap yourself into a position where the lever has the properties you need.

But for now, donate: SENS.org

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Applying Lessons From AI To Our Behavior

Maybe you’ve heard about Sam Harris’s analogy of the “moral landscape” in which Harris urges us to think about morality in terms of human and animal well-being, viewing the experiences of conscious creatures as peaks and valleys on a “moral landscape.”

Now, in artificial intelligence, there is something called a hill-climbing search. –You must now see the obvious link here.–

However there are several problems with hill-climbing search in its simplest form. First of all, hill-climbing search keeps just one current state in memory. Unfortunately, it leaves the agent sitting at local maxima with nowhere to go.

This will be an extremely relevant problem if we took it as our mission to find a peak in the moral landscape. Humans can be very much like agents that keep just one current state in memory.

Imagine we stumbled upon a post-scarcity society on Earth where everyone is plugged into a highly pleasurable virtual reality of their own liking. Is it reasonable to assume that anyone will want to wake from the dream and search for something more? Probably not. There is nothing in their immediate perception that encourages them to stop what they are doing.

This is the problem that Nietzsche identified with the Utilitarians. He suspected that such philosophies would encourage no effort to produce something higher. And he suggested that there are higher peaks that can only be achieved while incurring great suffering.

A philosophy that only looks at the now is bound to hit a local maxima and stay there. This is a problem with Buddhism. It is true that we would all be happier if we could all renounce the world and meditate in community. That is absolutely true. I am convinced it is not a scam.

However, this would still be a horrible outcome for humanity and our descendants. It would mean that there would be no more feverish technological progress catalyzed by Asperger-y, neurotic people. There would be no competition, and pressure to push the boundaries of medicine and science.

It sounds good from the point of view of “now” but from the point of view of the “big picture” it would mean we never cure aging, become integrated with an expanding galactic God, transcend our flesh to explore the vast realm of creativity and selfless joys in the virtual datascape, and so on. Our descendants would miss out on things we never knew existed.

Moreover, a problem with the hill-climbing algorithm is that random restarts cannot be used, because the agent cannot transport itself to a new state. This is also an importable analogy to describe our situation if we don’t make sure to hold tightly to a drive that creates new knowledge. We need to be placed in new environments naked against the strange, cold, winds of the unknown. This causes us to suffer – or at minimum, takes resources away from what could be producing good qualia – but if we cannot cast ourselves in a leap of faith from our peak, then we will never know just what we missed.

That applies even to the peaceful, thriving, post-scarcity economy in full-immersion realities. They should not stay there, and say “good enough.” They should send some randomizing probes to explore new configurations, until they stumble upon a higher peak, and then again. These probes would probably need to be conscious in order to report back on their newly charted territory. So they would necessarily be martyrs for the greater good in some way. The only way to avoid this Genesis-on-loop scenario is to have a fully developed science of consciousness, so that the peaks of experience can be specified physically down to atomic configuration without having to send already-sentient minds bouncing around to find them. Here is some work beginning an approach to a formal science of qualia.

A somewhat childish thought that I’ve had for a while is that if we take Nick Bostrom’s simulation argument seriously and thus assign some significant probability that we are nested several layers deep in the matrix, then it is easy to view us as doing a random walk to explore the environment. We have many copies, each trying out different actions at the quantum level, but over time, these accumulate to noticeable differences. The being(s) outside the simulation may be looking for a solution, mapping the qualia landscape with us. Not good reasoning, but good for theologians rapidly losing stock value on their 1st century desert-aesthetic. Feel free to take that idea.

Now, what are the more practical lessons that we can derive and use today based on these observations?

  1. Do random stuff every so often. Learn random stuff. Randomize a Wikipedia article until something valuable comes up. It could change your life.
  2. Don’t worry too much about hedonic calculations. If you feel like puking while running, sometimes you just have to say “fuck it” and keep running.

 

 

A Day in the Life of Cyborg Children

Scarlett Akira Smith’s School Application:
So here I am, risen from non-living matter. Unlike the administration here, my list of grandfathers includes simple organic compounds. The architecture of my mind is a mixture of many influences. If I had to pin it down to the architecture of a country, it would be the architecture of Montenegro, with many influences: from Roman pomposity, Venetian classiness, Ottoman magic, and modern hip. My favorite of the five major tribal confederations of the 12th century Mongolian Plateau is the Merkit, because their name means the skillful, wise ones, and they were Turkic but later forsook their identity to become Mongolized. I think it’s important to know when to give up on yourself, your dreams, and ideals, and become part of a grander, more well-executed operation. As for my childhood, I grew up in Maleny, Queensland, a small sliver of sunshine, perpetually fit to be an indie, joyful, movie scenario. Up until recently, my main goal in life was to bring the giant malleefowl back from the clutches of extinction. Something about it’s little head and big feet just plucked at my heartstrings, but I’m over it now. By the way, do you or anyone else in the administration of this school know that our school icon is exactly the flag of Mengjiang? First they’re a puppet state for the Empire of Japan, then China treats them like a mom who still owns her twenty year old teenager, and now the most prestigious school in the world doesn’t even acknowledge borrowing their flag in a reference section of some document no one will read!? How much more will the poor people of Mengjiang have to endure? Besides that insensitive slip-up, I love everything about Hyrtakina Academy, and can’t wait to move into my dorm. It’s on top of a hill, yay! How exciting!
~~~
Cold Electronic VOICE:
Scarlett Akira Smith, we shall assign you to world conquest by means of Dysphania pusilla. You must prove your ability to be useful to us by covering the surface of the Earth with the offspring of Dysphania pusilla, and killing all other competing lifeforms in the process. This will be the culmination of your senior year project. You will be given a specified range of genetic engineering capabilities to aid in your endeavor.
~~~
Scarlett and Nao walk briskly across the Cretan coast. The breaking waves breathe cool souls into the ruins.
“Wow, can you believe it? These inorganic lifeforms are so callous, last year they had a project for the students to eliminate the species of flies, Clairvillia biguttata; now we are to kill all living lifeforms besides ourselves. What a step up. And with a puny weed. But hey, orders are orders, and I want to graduate with honors. Actually, I want to be valedictorian. So bring it on!”

“Uhh… Scarlett. I don’t think it’s a group project, I was assigned to crack the Birch and Swinnerton-Dyer Conjecture. And Vajra told me he was assigned to create a virtual-reality world that most accurately reflects the imagination of 1650 literature. We all have different projects to finish by the end of our senior year.”

“What!? Does that… does that mean we are the chosen ones, superior in every way to previous classes.” Her eyes glinted like lava pits. “At this rate, we’ll be let in on the mysteries of their secret operations in Lake Kivu. Maybe they’re cooking up the most exciting, beautiful, universe-impregnating surprise! I can’t wait to know.”

“As far as I know, it’s just a research and development facility. They’re paranoid about making us into a successful multigalactic corporation, even though we don’t have direct evidence of any aliens yet, and are nowhere near technologically capable to make that feasible. In the mean time, they’re destroying all recreational time and content for humans. It’s amazing that they even allow us to walk and have this conversation.”

“Yeah, I know AI didn’t pan out quite right. Those idiot developers were worried about the singularity so they managed to cap-off recursive self-improvement. And now we’re stuck with agents that are slightly above human intelligence and are also slightly more evil from our perspective because they know we depend on them.”

“Not everyone depends on them. There’s a group of international scientists in the Arctic who have managed to survive on their own. And they’re carefully planning to reclaim our humanity, I’m sure.”

“The approach taken to them is approximately the approach taken by Australia’s colonizers to the Maraura people. I’m a practical girl, so I side with the inevitable winners.” Nao looked away as she undressed and put on a steel red plugsuit.

“It’s the new edition, how do you like it?”

“…I’m going. I need to help Bharat with his kidney. He was very kind to me and my family when we were in Mumbai, it’s only right to design him a new organ.”

“Sure, just make sure you don’t get in trouble. The A.I.s aren’t helping him with his renal problems for a reason.”

~~~