Philosopher; lover; scoundrel; mad man with a box, without a box.
Martin Hart: Shit, man, look, I’ve noticed you have a tendency toward myopia, tunnel vision… blows investigations… vision skews, twists evidence. You’re… You’re obsessive.
Rustin Cohle: You’re obsessive too, just not about the job.
Martin Hart: Not me, brother. I keep things… even, separate. Like the way I can have just one beer without needing 20.
Rustin Cohle: People incapable of guilt usually do have a good time.
— Overcoming Bias : I Still Don’t Get Foom
One of those cases where I’m really not qualified to weigh in one side or the other of the debate really, but the analogy is a good one for framing the subject, I think. I don’t think there’s always enough appreciation of what “intelligence” is, or what an “intelligence project” would entail. People look at the information technology available today, and say, “Wow, surely we must have one super-powerful piece of computing coming up down the road!” but don’t explain why it’s going to be some single, unified, cellular thing. Even the most powerful computers, as far as I understand them, are a powerful interplay of many different projects going on, mediated by human actors trying to ply something from them.
Reminds me of the Binswanger quote that a computer can’t “think” anymore than a calculator can. It’s not to undermine the power or possibility for future innovation into a thinking machine, but just to point out that our current “artificial intelligence” aren’t things sitting on their own, intelligent in their own right, on their own, as just a thinking, exploring, concepting device, with its own moral* teleology. (*Moral: in the sense of having a concept of one’s own life, one’s own value, and the intellectual, physical and other means necessary to pursue that life)
My order from Motive Power Supply (ablogforlivingonearth) arrived. Thanks chaps!
MY FRIENDS NEED TO STOP GETTING MAD AT ME WHENEVER I MAKE BEATLES REFERENCES
DUDES, JUST LET IT BE
In the real world, the realest one we have at any rate, Gabriel the Younger joined his friends in ridiculing a boy who did not understand procreation. Except he didn’t understand it either. Understand that conversations like this happen in Minecraft, now. So he asked his Dad, who I know well. And his dad had no idea how he was going to do it, much like our own dads, who simply never told us anything. Except there’s no way you can get away with that anymore.
I have probably been too frank at home, honestly. It’s a problem I have: I hate lies. It has made this job increasingly difficult. But I would rather that they know something too early than not at all, or to let some malefactor define these things toward their own purpose.
I would never say that I was better at this than Gabriel the Elder. Until recently there was an active rivalry, but I am currently the worst father in this galaxy - just beating out the malevolent Husk-Ship Armogedra. But my son does know what his dick is about, on account of a policy called Facts By Five. He listened in ever crystallizing horror until everything seemed to coalesce for him, he said “Okay,” and finished building his robot; a robot now studded with brutal, gas-powered chain-dongs.
This is precisely what worries me about the home cinema theory - that is, the belief that cinemas will die out, because home cinema systems are so good. I’m sorry, but unless you have >20 foot screen at your home, you’re not watching real cinema. You’re missing out on the sheer expansive nature of cinema. Not to mention the power of a large sound system in an auditorium, or that intangible nature of being surrounded by strangers experiencing the same moment.
At home, you are king, and the television is your jester. If you are not amused, you take out the remote control and chop off his head! The framework of home viewing is familiarity: What is right is what fits with the routine, which implies a mind-set that sees only what it wants - is prepared - to see.I just want to interrupt to say this fits with something I’ve been puzzling over a lot lately, thinking about obsessive-compulsive behaviour, narcissism (two traits I’m victim to, though not pathologically so, thank god) and just generally the self-vs-the-other: that a happy life requires a recognition and a place in your life for accepting that which is out of your control, for appreciating things that exist outside of you — the most vital and uncontrollable of these being other people.
Going out, however, involves some expense, inconvenience, and risk. Remember that you will be sitting in a dark room with as few as six, or as many as six hundred strangers. No distractions, no way to stop the film once it starts, and it starts at a certain time whether or not you are there.
This produces a mind set that is open to experience in a way that home viewing can never replicate. Most mysteriously important, however, are those six or six hundred strangers sitting with you, whose muffled presence alters and magnifies the nature of what you see in an unquantifiable way.
Let’s say that the average age in the audience is twenty-five years. Six hundred times twenty-five equals fifteen thousand years of human experience assembled in that darkness — well over twice the length of recorded human history of hopes, dreams, disappointments, exultation, tragedy. All focused on the same series of images and sounds all brought there by the urge, however inchoate, to open up and experience as intensely as possible, something beyond their ordinary lives.