Showing posts with label Geek Rapture. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Geek Rapture. Show all posts

Wednesday, September 10, 2025

Dear Thomas Friedman

I have long admired your intelligence, and your ability to find new takes on hackneyed reality. I'm not so sure about your take on AI.

Language is the stuff of intelligence, and the artificial sort of intelligence works off that. But human intelligence - as is, incidentally, encoded in the Chinese language - also includes emotion at our center. Heart and mind are combined in a single word in Chinese. 

I was privileged recently to observe a lively discussion, led by educational policy leaders, about AI in education. After a fairly brief formal presentation, when questions were invited, I was gratified to hear each of the Chinese international students point out that emotion is what's lacking in AI. They seemed determined to make that point. It was well taken, and taken well.

Your phases of history are still progressions along a continuum which has already broken. As did most of us, you missed the happening. Humans have become so impressed with ourselves that we never did pause to examine our cosmologies after the Bomb, capital A. The Manhattan Project was perched on a World War; one in which we were desperate to keep at bay what by now has almost fully engulfed us. Totalitarianism is a failure of feeling, and it can't be eradicated by physical means. 

AI represents the totalization of language, just as physical infrastructure now represents the totalization of our planet. It can be very difficult to know anything beyond those facts. Totalitarians are humans who have made themselves inhuman. They have no understanding. Their expression comes from a very immature place. The tragedy of Hitler's rage returns as Trump's farcical buffoonery. A Marxian quip on history. But we have banished all teleology now, and good riddance. We shall never understand the All. And History has no more discernible direction than life as a whole does.

By commission and omission we have been killing more actual people before their time than ever before. Those at the top seem to celebrate this still, as well they might. When no meaning is made from history, only power remains. Power, as we all know, is addictive.

What we failed to notice even after we proved that we could in fact and in deed enact the reality of the mass/energy equation, was that our emotions had been dulled by those phases you recite in your piece in the New York Times: With your second phase, the Age of Information as triggered by the printing press, we had already introduced Artificial Intelligence. We could be emotively moved by a thing, though mostly because we imagined a person behind it, or sometimes God. It was the printed Bible which blew it for the makers of God's artificial meaning. 

Turing, Shannon, and all who work in AI, never understood that there is no information without its comprehension. It's otherwise only noise. We have equated information with its methods for decoding, and not with its meaning, and then we get sucked up into our own tuba. That is idiocy no different from a monkey playing piano.

Books hold no more emotion than does a brick. AI holds an equivalent amount. As with a furry robot, we project our feelings upon a void. 

We express our emotions facially and physically, though there is no one physical medium to make or convey the expression directly. It has to be understood, but in a way quite different from our understanding of the mass/energy equation. While a machine may learn to call out a smile, a machine will never feel it. Among living creatures, there is always reciprocal feeling. To smile at a machine is to give away far too much of yourself, as many of us have learned the hard way.

Our investigations into quantum physics take no emotion into account, despite the paradox of mind/body resolution. We thought we'd resolved the cartesian divide, when all we really did was to eliminate any possibility that mind is apart from matter. Maybe Penrose is taking a look, though he seems still to be looking for mechanism. A quantum aspect of the brain? How about mind as an aspect of reality from the beginning and to the end? Quantum reality has always been an aspect of mind.

Well, Penrose is beyond me, though I doubt it's all that complicated. If one simply supposes, as I do, that emotions are always simultaneous, which means that physical force is absent in if not from the emotion, then there is no medium through which they propagate, apart from all media. We've done away with ether in the physical world, but what we have yet to do, because it can't be done, is to do away with conceptual reality altogether. Conceptual reality allows for void, which perceptual reality abhors. Perceptual reality is understood conceptually.

Part of conceptual reality is the quite bizarre existence of DNA molecules. Our imagination fails to find meaning in their random appearance; and then again we fail to find meaning in evolution over time according to random mutation. Or rather, we posit that meaning itself is made from random connections, which is certainly true. There is vanishingly little about my life that I can attribute to my own choices. In that I might differ ever so slightly from those still jacked by the Manhattan Project. 

We flunked that test - the atomic test - when we let the hard-heads take charge. They dropped two bombs and then some, based on scant understanding. We've been frozen in time ever since. Now the digital adepts believe absolutely that they can make reality; and banish random from reality.

How ironic that early exponent of Geek Rapture Eliezer Yudkowski is now calling the technology evil and deadly. Along with Kurtzweil, he was celebrating the possibility of a cosmos where "intelligence" crowds out all else, imaging that he could perpetuate his disembodied person. Personality? Emotions are always bereft without a body.

Books disempower as much as they empower. Most of us cannot be either authors or authorities, and so we adapt the thoughts of others. Tools (your first phase, Mr. Friedman) had already channeled our actions according to some masters' wishes. Books carry on the same tradition. 

Recognition always precedes understanding. Cognition is always involved, while recognition engages emotion. Emotion triggers physical motion in living beings. Neurological studies demonstrate that decisions are not cognitive; they get made before we're conscious of them. They must be emotive, since cognition is too slow. Trust or fear, fight or flight. These are emotive decisions. Understanding is settled cognition, awaiting only upset. 

Time can only be defined metaphysically, as recognition followed by comprehension. There is no physical definition for time. Physical time surfaces in the same way that trust might arise from a smile. 'This' prior to 'that' has no meaning without emotion. Meaning is comprehension with consequence. One emotively knows what to do.

Now in the face of digital AI, which can feel no recognition though it might easily name you, we require the emotional maturity which we lacked upon the triggering of atomic explosions. As yet, we are not responsible adults. God knows how to organize ourselves globally anymore. 

We don't need leaders and followers so much as we need community. Community is always only local. Digital, as we deploy it now, disempowers community and creates actual physical gods. These, each and all, must be dethroned. Here's a paradox for you: One is Only Authentic when One Plays a Role (Yudkowsky joke)

God has no role. God is Love.

I mean this quite literally, of course. 

The interesting thing about AI is that it has one incredibly singular use. That would be to detect other AI. When declarations are found to be derivative and not initiated by the person who made them, which is trivial to discover by AI, then the person who made them is deploying AI. Thus a C-level spokesman for a corporation says only what he's been self-programmed to say. Emotion has been expunged; an activity long honored in the feminine fearing My Fair Lady West. Which hardly lets China off the hook.

A person with fellow feeling, which is to say a person who is a member of the same community he addresses, cannot be an AI, but can easily be exposed by AI as human. We'll waste a lot of energy and therefore money getting around to universalizing moral behavior, but it still happens willy-nilly. Remember the tobacco executive breaking down in tears?  He had been sorely tested. 

Germs that cause illness have always been a part of life. Who among us wants to relinquish our intelligent fencing off of germs? Recently, the global body politic has been infested by a kind of virus. I use the term advisedly, since viruses are generally found to be not-quite alive. But so deep has our mistrust of government and public institutions generally become that we have now elected a majority in government which has no fellow feeling at all. They work only for themselves.

Will it really take AI to call them out? Or is it that each of us has already been infected so that we think only of ourselves as well. One can't legislate morality. That's why we have elections. But we've all been trained now to look out only for number one. Digitally, that makes each of us a zero. When it's a contest and not a community initiative, getting ahead is immoral. Never mind the economic dogma. 

Anyhow, the really fun thing about quantum physics is that you can't remove mind from the equations. We already almost knew that when the first A-bomb was exploded. We knew that relativity, in addition to establishing the speed of light as a constant, also erased the possibility for any actual simultaneity. Emotion is always simultaneous. Bell theorem. And so we discover and name endless so-called particles without even pausing to wonder that they each may be a reflection of the strange community of strong agreement that is science. 

Alas, even that community has lost its trust. All research is motivated research when we stop stopping to smell the roses. At its most basic science was meant to delineate that knowledge upon which we must all agree. Their sin has also been a totalization of knowledge. 

There are just two books which I sorta kinda liked which I could never finish. I know it's a literary sin to say so, but one is Joyce's Ulysses and the other is The Recognitions by William Gaddis. Now my mind has become too weak, but frankly Joyce the man and his oddity slipped through his lyrics, and, well, Gaddis just cuts too close for my comfort. 

Yes indeed it is our craving recognition which is killing us. Along with our hiding of our basic loving nature. The rest is all outcome.

Saturday, November 18, 2023

The Singularity is Fear, Redux

Oh dear! It would seem that I expressed some fear of AI in that last post. In fact what I fear is the nutty repetition that some sort of singularity is near, whereby artificial intelligence will outpace human intelligence and take over the world. 

That fear embodies the supposition that human intelligence come the closest to abstracted and perfected intelligence, and that it is intelligence, writ large, which affords us our singular ability to survive and rise above the slings and arrows of otherwise outrageous fortune. 

There surely is that function for our kind of intelligence; the proof being our ability to live in such an incredible range of habitats and environments. We do that by designing and then constructing clothing and habitat; machines and communications gear. And we write history, or at least tell our stories.

But, hoist by our own hubris, we actually start to believe that we can live without any habitat at all. As though we could construct our very survival as living beings without all of the living context.

We have, as yet, no vocabulary for understanding the commonplace miracles which accompany our survival. We focus on personal miracles for which some of us thank God, and for which still more of us, perhaps even giving lip-service to some god or other, basically take credit. Now we seem to think that our constructions can exceed us.

This robotic AI won't be participating in the evolutionary processes by which we were ultimately begotten. Nope, the machine mind will do the creative improvements all on their own, beside and apart from nature. 

Of course, nature will wipe them out pretty much as soon as we are wiped out, in the same way that any other niche not-fitted creature gets wiped out. 

We think that the reason these machines exist is because we creatively designed and then built them. In fact, they appeared in the same way everything else does. If Edelman is right that the neural interconnections of our brains also change and develop according to principles at least analogous to the larger and better understood processes of evolution, then it would be foolish to think that our minds, even if they do ride on our brains - which I don't think that they do - have been evolving in any other way than to fit the man-made niche from which they come. 

Which is to say that we ourselves have been evolving in ways most certainly reflective of the environment which we inhabit. Or, to put it another way, our minds are already machine intelligence. How could they not be? That's our built niche, now globalized.

Many of us now have internalized the market as our identity. Even though we might not always wear our branding on our sleeves, we would probably like to, if we could afford it. 

Very uncharacteristically, I attended an actual Buffalo Bills football game the other night. I'm still wrecked from it, though I think I was just about the only fan there who wasn't drinking. It was such an ordeal; through the traffic to the stadium and then through the security lines, and then squeezed to far within the margins of my winter-clothing expanded body, along with my similarly superannuated friends, and then again to endure their drinking and cigar smoking as I was internally shut down both from the cold aluminum seats (which have to be that way to act as noisemakers), from the Bill's discouraging loss, and because I don't really know how to speak 'fucking this, ficking that' which is apparently a dialect of English. Fucking Allen has to fucking execute the fucking technical plays made by fucking Dorsey. 

Well Dorsey got shitcanned, tant pis. 

Meanwhile I have this gang of recent immigrants - no, I think they're our version of guest-workers - putting a new roof on the house in which I live. They're overseen by owner-class recent immigrants from Russia. Having previously endured a series of non-immigrant contractors, each of whom declares that they can't find workers since nobody wants to work anymore, I'm getting the feeling that this is a generalized American malaise of genuine Americans. What MAGA Americans mean by Americans. 

But I mean these Mexicans, or more probably Puerto Ricans, are flying up and down ladders, carrying massive loads and laughing and joking with one another. 

Put all of this together and you learn that the mind is really quite transpersonal. I'm pretty sure none of the roofers had attended or would ever attend a live Buffalo Bills game. As for me, I like the televised version better. What's happening gets explained to you, you don't have to struggle or freeze to get there, and there is a context (of all the other games and stats). And mainly because it's free!

I do remember the time and the many places when you could go to a game on a whim and pay something well within your bar-tab budget for a ticket, and have a lot of actual fun. Now we still have baseball here in Buffalo, so long as it doesn't go major league. But it's so darned boring and brainy and slow.

We make our living, I guess, by branding ourselves. Some are influencers. Some are bloggers. Some salespeople. If we're professional, we are our brand, a conceit made very large by the former guy. What we mean by our intense hatred of one another is that we really can't stand ourselves. What we imagine we are bears almost no relation to what we actually are. Which is inauthentic shitheads who behave like all the other shitheads. And I have no idea what authenticity even means, but I shall not brand myself!

Sure AI will have no emotion, and no prejudice, once we get the kinks worked out. No play, which would mean no learning, or at least not the kind that counts. Please let us not mistake AI for human intelligence, though we are moving rapidly in that direction.

The singularity that the AI nutjobs fear or wish to celebrate is not much more than a highly elaborate crystalized rock. We think that the computation will keep on keeping on, but really? Would it? Once a nano-second makes a bejillion chess-board moves it stalemates at a solution. Over and done. There is no life there is all.

We lack almost all imagination in these matters. It amazes me how unexamined most of our assumptions are. We assume that to be human is to be something like what humans can make and then we project ourselves right onto the monstrosity. Look closely at AI, Pogo, and you will see yourself, already gone.

Friday, December 31, 2021

Self-referential Notes While Reading 'Life 3.0' by Max Tegmark

Don't read this. It's sloppy endless railing against the stupidity of AI. I post these things as notes to self, even if I almost never have the energy to read them through. Read The Razor's Edge instead. It's free at gutenberg. I'm tired of reworking this and letting it grow hairy. But if I don't post it, I'll forget that it exists and won't be able to mark any progress I might make. No big deal, since nobody's paying attention.

* * *

So Barack Obama called it a good book, which only confirms his neoliberal cred. He too thinks we’re at the end of history. I'll say at the outset that when Tegmark makes this following statement toward the beginning of this book:

"But beauty is in the eye of the beholder, not in the laws of physics, so before our Universe awoke, there was no beauty. This makes our cosmic awakening all the more wonderful and worthy of celebrating: it transformed our Universe from a mindless zombie with no self-awareness into a living ecosystem harboring self-reflection, beauty and hope—and the pursuit of goals, meaning and purpose. Had our Universe never awoken, then, as far as I’m concerned, it would have been completely pointless—merely a gigantic waste of space. Should our Universe permanently go back to sleep due to some cosmic calamity or self-inflicted mishap, it will, alas, become meaningless.

. . . when Tegmark writes that, I immediately want to call out his mind as the meaningless gigantic waste of vacant and vacuous boring meaningless space. 

I don't really wish to rag on Obama. The trouble for me with Obama is that I projected something impossible onto him. I suppose that a lot of others did as well. Our enthusiasm exceeded what the presidency could accomplish, and in that way he created the space for Trump to inhabit. He may even have sealed the fate of both of them with his brilliant take-down payback at the White House Press Club. But how could you blame him after all that birther bullshit?

Spoiler alert: Before reading this over, I have to confess that I did just watch Matrix Resurrections, which is a better commentary on this book than I can write. I also surely think that McKenzie Wark, with her update of Marxism she calls "vectorialism," makes a better claim on our future than Max Tegmark does. There will never be the travesty of "artificial life", just as surely as rampant AI driven vectorialist capitalism will destroy the earth.

Wark's transgender transformation could be seen in the same space as the Wachowski's; which is, now that I think about it, also the same space as Tegmark's proposed transformation of humanity into data. But the one is innered and acting only on oneself in the now, while the other is outered onto the universe and onto the future.

Tegmark swallows the blue pill whole, and buys the world as it is, while Wark dives beneath her skin and ours - along with our minds - to find reality. The world is already driven by AI. The thing to do is to hack it. 

To go for the essence of what's collectively real. Donna Haraway come a lot closer to what is real about technology, and her chthulucene is a lot less apocalyptic than the one-dimensional anthropocene, and a lot more hopeful. We need to focus on getting through and staying with the trouble, not on the "win" of transcending it.

Given my perusal of dystopian fiction, of the likes of The Road, or Harrow, or Mad Max, or Straw Dogs, or a bejillion others, all we can imagine after the collapse of capitalism is ruthlessness in spades. A bleak denuded landscape crawling with psychopaths. This is the capitalist mirror. The dark in our experience of our triumphs.

Why can't we even imagine self-organizing humans, but we can imagine self-creating robots? Jamison: "it's easier to imagine the end of the world than the end of capitalism." Capitalism is the end of the world, stupid!

Tegmark is the quintessential one-dimensional man, who not only hasn't noticed that the subject/object distinction has already blurred, if not disappeared altogether, he can't even imagine how very different the world would have to be if his vision for AI were ever fulfilled, not to mention how different the course along the way would have to be. He seems only to imagine making better what we already have. As though what we could be is finished.

Next true confession: I just finished reading The Dawn of Everything, which I found to be a convincing debunking of all the recent "Big Histories" (Most of which I've also read) which, it turns out, project a set of very parochial narratives onto our sketchy understanding of our past, and especially our pre-historical (recorded) past, which is subject only to archaeological research.

The David's book stays well within the scientific method in its challenge to received wisdom about the stages of human development. As generally narrated, those stages are often thought to lead progressively and then inevitably to our current political and economic arrangements. For me, the great bonus of the book is that you can turn its lense around toward the future and see that our current angst about the anthropocene is part of the same progressive (and Western) narrative: History ends with apocalypse.

In both the Christian and in the Geek Rapture sense (that's what Tegmark is embedded in), there is a good apocalypse, where God comes down as man, or Man rises up as Homo Deus. I remember being excited by both Hariri books. It's exciting to get a well-read narrative from the altitude of outer space. Even if it is from a space cadet. And I do love good science fiction, to which genre Tegmark should limit himself.

My hope is founded on the promise that we can get beyond private property; and beyond the fetishization of the selfie-self, which is private property's inevitable corollary. 

We can self-organize in ways to maximize actual freedom and absence of tyranny. We have done it many times in our past, the Davids remind us. Neoliberal capitalism has taken on the form of perpetual warfare now; a form of police-state command and control governance which has both occurred before and which has been overrun many times at well. We are stuck now precisely because we are so impressed with ourselves, and especially with the promises of our technologies.

We remain in the thrall of our technologies because of a kind of artificial fear. We fear that the world will end, just as we fear that we ourselves will end. And we think that we're just about clever enough to fix it all.

There is a homology (?) from neoliberal capitalism to projecting humanity onto the entire cosmos. If we don't cut it out, the world will indeed end. 

That doesn't mean, and isn't the same thing as, the end of technology, the end of the self, the end of a free market economy. It only means backing down from totalism of any sort. 

Totalism (I want to hang back from totalitarianism name-calling, by emphasizing only the totalizing nature of Tegmark and his ilk's thinking about what digital can be, and his strange fetish about private property, as though we couldn't have privacy without it, and as if it doesn't constrain autonomy as much as it might give the illusion of it) . . . totalism kills autonomy of thought, and fetishising the self limits autonomy to the extent that you cut yourself off from all those parts of you that are realized in and by others.

A car can be a prison, limiting the driver to highly controlled and constrained highways and rules, as much as it can represent freedom. Everyone wanting to be a superstar can kill us in the same way. It's all projection; it's all the same deluded fantasy.

Totalising governance of the sort we practice is only necessary for survival in the face of grand challenges or emergency, or for the Big Hunt. But now neoliberal technocratic totalism is what's causing the end to loom so near. 

We're not on a ship at sea. The only emergency is the one we created. All we have to do is to dismantle the structures which oppress most of us. If we don't, the world we live in will move even further toward making us feel as though even our houses are awash in a storm. Oh wait, it already feels like that.

Tegmark and I agree that there is no need to enslave and degrade some of us for a very few to thrive. But his is a libertarian vision where the only thing sacred is private property. He seems to have no sense of irony.

I do believe that we live in a time of irony, if not paradox, where the seeming solution is the problem. We are beating back the pandemic in ways that fall well short of a police-state, thank the gods. But a little more respect for authority wouldn't hurt. We already know that objective physical science has run its course, but we are having way too much fun pretending that it hasn't. And especially, we know that we can't know everything, while we can't stop having fun projecting the fantasy that we could or might onto our future.

So far there is no asteroid hurtling in our direction, but there certainly is climate change. According to the Dawn of Everything, which is filled with citations, part of what has formed humanity over time has been massive climate change in our past. The dinosaurs' planet was leveled by an astronomic collision, without which we wouldn't be here. In recent times, it was a glacial ice-age, through which the earth and humanity survived. Now it will be sea-level rise and erratic weather events, through which earth and humanity will also survive.

Artificial Intelligence will help with this, but I believe that the fantasy of filling the universe with projections of humanity as we are, in whatever real or artificial form, is what all fantasy is: A denial of reality. Real life does not 'lead up' to intelligence. There is more to humans than just our thinking as that can be modelled by way of logic gates. There is more to life than our science can tell us.

I hope to show you why Life 3.0 is fantasy, and how dangerous such fantasy is when authors lose track of the difference between fantasy and the real. My hope is probably more extravagant even than theirs.

The only question worth answering here is whether AI can gain what Tegmark calls consciousness, which he reduces to subjective experience. It's clear that humans can project subjectivity onto geometric objects and swarms of shapes made to move about on a screen in most any narrative fashion. It's less clear that an AI can experience consciousness.

So further true confession: I'm also reading The Extended Mind, which debunks the brain/computer set of metaphors. If, as I myself know to be true, the technologies which might lead to AI, are, on balance actually extending the human mind, there might be cause for hope. But the counter balance is that technology has also been acting as an accelerant to the wildfire of unregulated capital. 

It may well be that our quest for AI is actually destroying not just human mind, but mind in general. It may be that it is way too early to be making the suppositions made here by tech enthusiasts. I know that my mind and certainly my memories are embedded in the world about me. As the geography and natural order is transformed at an accelerating rate, I am quite literally losing my mind. There are many many memories which I simply can't access without actually being in the familiar space where they happened.

As books on shelves are replaced by machine renderings, I am losing all my referents. I'd say we need to fix search before we move on to AI. If you can't reliably find the same information twice, and know what's not available by way of the web, then search is also destructive of knowledge.

But then my God is Irony. And I won't have convinced anyone of anything before I'm gone. But I won't stop trying. I'm very trying. And pathetically goofy. Merry Christmas! Let's read on . . .

* * *

Tegmark wants to go ahead and impose his vacant subjectivity on the entire universe and make it as dead as his dreams for AI make me feel. This person has lost all wonder, and is himself exhibit A for the reality of AI. He mistakes blockbuster capitalist movers as geniuses?!? Or is he merely pandering for his Institute?

Look, before I post this (still re-reading, apparently, if not quite editing) I have to say that I don't think these people are somehow evil. Certainly Barack Obama isn't, and Max Tegmark seems like a nice and really interesting guy. I just have a very different world-view than either of them do. I would never hug Richard Branson, and especially not to go up under a parasail the way O did, or in some sort of rocket.ship  slingshot ride into outer space.

Unfortunately my mind isn't good or powerful enough, and my writing too tortured, for me to find any company in this world-view. Or when I do find company, they don't give me the time of day, mostly because I'm not deep enough into their specialty.

Naturally enough, my world-view pulls the rug out from under nearly everything about how we live now, which makes it ever more unlikely that I'll make any progress. I don't think that thinking which goes against the power structure has ever had a worse possibility of making headway.

One brief way to outline my thinking is that we are already ruled by AI. The infrastructure of our minds, by way of existing communications technology, is organized by the supercomputing power of money. Our collective human desires are skewed in favor of the hollow men who become superstars of one sort or another.

Most of us don't want multiple mansions and yachts. We just want honest work that doesn't belittle us, with enough free time and space and thought to put a smile on our face and a laugh in our belly for enough of our waking time. 

We don't want to be left out of any and all decisions which affect us - as we are now. I mean really, who among us feels that they can make a difference?

The other thing we want is to be secure in our knowledge that the material world isn't everything. We know that there is something to reality that is bigger than our sciences can discover, but it can't be measured or quantified or often even communicated, much of the time. My faith that this knowledge will prevail has never been weaker. Or maybe it's never been stronger.

I suppose my discouragement is because my mind is working about as well as my body. It hurts to do challenging things. Like, for instance, while reading this book is pretty trivial and fast, reading Herbert Marcuse is a freaking chore. But Marcuse is a lot closer to "the truth."

I do not oppose science. My complaint is that within science are already discoveries that lead beyond it. My argument, sadly, is far more subtle than I am. The term "science" is not meant to be limited by detectable physical reality. It's meant to encompass anything that can be known and communicated convincingly to others. 

So yes, I think that God is a canard. Positing the existence of some god or other - even a future AI demigod - is pretty much what limits science as we practice it now.

The other limits are all disciplinary. The division of academic labor. As in, there isn't much you can know as an amateur. And really all of us are amateurs outside our discipline. I have no discipline, so I'm an amateur in everything. So is every one of our politicians. We need to do a better job of selecting them, number one, and number two, there are intelligent people who are kind and thinking people who should have more of a voice. Trouble is that in our society now, you have to be a self-promoter to be heard at all.

And yes of course, there is life elsewhere in our universe. And of course it will never be physically present for us. The laws of physics, especially as invoked in this book, are as complete as they need to be. We just simply aren't paying attention to the life that does exist elsewhere. Likely just because it's so, like, everywhere and all of the time. Even here on earth we've forgotten how to listen to the trees.

* * *

Yes, for sure, what I am saying is that whether silicon based or otherwise based, any artificial intelligence will be, by definition, cut off from cosmic mind. Are we still so stupid that we can't see that? Consciousness is the subjective experience of feeling what the unconscious has assembled. AI has no unconscious. That's why, no matter how complex we make it or imagine it, AI can never be conscious. 

Our feelings are grounded in our bodies and in the existence of myriad similar bodies with whom we emotively connect. Our brains inner our body's perceptions, but our minds are always outside in the objects perceived. A computer of any sort is cut off.

Sure my thinking has echoes of mystical and religious thinking, but I come by it honestly, by way of the scientific method. There is simply no reason to presume or even suggest that the human mind is somehow that special and removed from the rest of the cosmically real.

The "revolutions" which have led to this moment have - quite evidently now if you but open your eyes and look around you - almost nothing to do with intelligence. They have to do with binding us one to the other and taking advantage of what we can do collectively that we could never do alone. Mind has never been and never will be something that can be contained or defined. There is no boundary to it.

It is the collective we which hasn't yet awakened. We are stupider than our primitive progenitors who at least knew that they were contained within, and infinitely smaller than, the godhead. Whatever the fuck the godhead is it's certainly not the apotheosis of humanity.

The issue is not whether artificial minds can be led to take over all of the stuff that we decide about. The issue is whether we shall open our minds before this happens, because when and if AI takes over, we will already have ended. 

Not because some scary machine mind has taken over, but because our human thinking feeling communicating loving artistic and literary mind will already have lost its imagination and become the machine mind that it thinks that it wishes to create.

Or in other words, what a stupid stupid book representing a stupid stupid train of thought. But hey, I'll keep reading. We'll see where this bimbo is going with this.

But before I do let me remind you, gentle reader, that we cannot know, directly by way of scientific detection, if there is other consciousness in the cosmos. That's because we have yet to disprove the laws of physics as we have construed them to now. 

The onliest way to know is by feeling. Feeling is, by definition, a mutual and simultaneous reality. That's my definition, OK? Physically we can't even be in touch with one another according to the very same laws which limit detection by the canonical speed of light. We can't even exist in the same universe person to person if you follow the logic to its obvious conclusion

We exclude conceptual reality from our reality, not realizing that without a very real definition for simultaneity which escapes the Laws of Relativity, our subjective reality can't even exist in the first place. There is no consciousness without some other, and if we humans are to be the other which makes machines conscious, we will have had to reduce ourselves to their terms, negating the very possibility to know the machines, because they will be without emotion. Their conceptual reality is only mathematical. Beautiful only for rubes like Tegmark. And he himself finds the cosmos void of meaning without us. Uroburos.

* * *

Already at the opening of chapter 2, I see that this fellow is using good conspiracy theory rhetoric. And like a 'good' GWB style liar, he takes himself in along with the attempt on the rest of us. He defines intelligence at what he calls "a maximally broad and inclusive view"  = ability to accomplish complex goals.

Along the way he tosses out various competing glosses for intelligence; "capacity for logic, understanding, planning, emotional knowledge, self-awareness, creativity, problem solving and learning."

The glaring ones  that he slides past are "emotional knowledge" and "creativity." Does he really think that these are subsumed by his 'accomplish complex goals!?'

I, for only one, find it trivial to establish that emotional response is the basis for any and all goals in the first place. But he's going to just slip past that. And does anyone really think that creativity is about goal accomplishment? Creativity is what happens when you either don't know what the goal is, or you don't know how to get there. Machines might look creative just because we couldn't have imagined their solution to a problem we gave them, but I'm saying that by definition they're not creative. Um, that's because, yes, they're not alive.

The brain, for instance, is not some unitary device. Perceptions take time to register and to assemble, and most of the time there isn't time to come up with optimal solutions. To the problem, say, of a tiger about to eat you. Perceptions have to be put in order, which is to say that some narrative structure must be imposed. The narrative structure has to feel right before you can act on it.

Collectively, humans clearly can't decide which goals are important, even in the face of utter catastrophe. Individual humans do stupid things all the time, but mostly stay alive even while exhibiting colossal stupidity, like driving a car with minimal knowledge of its physics and minimal subtlety about the importance of signaling and taking in the biggest possible picture. Not to mention driving while not even quite paying close attention.

The staying alive part is in the design of highways and traffic signals and general experience driving which leads to pretty good general awareness of what to do when. Not to mention recently resilient forgiving and massive cars.

Sure, a AI driver can become nearly accident free. It can get from point A to point B, as directed by some decider. But that hardly makes it intelligent. Says me.

The intelligence is built into the overall system, and neither AI nor stupid human could survive apart from that system. Plunk a good American driver down in China and you have an accident on your hands (though the world is so shrunken and reduced, that it wouldn't take too long to learn).

Look, my point is also the main point of the book. But so far, we haven't even defined the boundaries for intelligence, which I claim must extend to the reaches of "the universe," defined here as "The region of space from which light has had time to reach us during the 13.6 years since our Big Bang."

Fine, I'll accept that as our universe. What I won't accept is the narrative structure this guy is imposing on the universe, which leaves it dead and void without us. By his own definition, we can know nothing about the universe apart from that which we can connect with within some reasonable facsimile of simultaneity, which I say means we can't really connect with anything other at all, since simultaneity is a really really fuzzy concept, post relativity theory. Not to mention post quantum theory.

And yet we do manage to know something. That's because mind is built on emotion which is mutual and involves no exchange of light-speed-limited particles to be real and true and a goad to, um, action!

Now I would be hurling nasty epithets were I to suggest that people who work on artificial intelligence are emotionally stunted. Or that they're on the spectrum, you know, like Greta Thrunburg or Elon Musk are, according to themselves. But no, the epithets I'd like to hurl have much more to do with the lousy narratives they want us all to inhabit. 

I really don't have anything against self-driving cars. I have something really big against cars, though. As in if we want cars, then we won't survive, full stop. Our goal can't be to keep driving cars or having them drive us. A better goal would be to open ourselves to the universal mind, which is something that artificial intelligence simply can't do. Again, I'd say that's by definition.

Here's Tegmark's definition of life: "Process that can retain its complexity and replicate." As is his definition for the universe, I think it's a pretty good definition. But he's leaving out anything about the evident fact that life arises by way of evolution, which is in turn dependent on accident, chance, random, whatever you want to call it. No goals allowed, according to our definition for random. And yet this entire book infers that there was a direction to evolution and that it led inevitably to consciousness (defined as "Subjective experience").

OK fine, but wouldn't that mean that it led to consciousness everywhere and not just here? And yet somehow the universe is vacant without our particular subjectivity? 

I'm coming from a place of optimism, gotten with great difficulty from the destruction of self-aggrandizing narratives for human history as accomplished in the quite brilliant book The Dawn of Everything. I'm not going to buy this guy's stupid claim that somehow now we're on the verge of solving all problems and reaching all goals that could ever be conceived anywhere. Like life can be finished? Really??

Here's an epithet for you. These guys have no sense of irony! Take that, you idiots!

There is no goal for evolution, but I can tell you its direction. Evolution moves in the direction of love, which is the main component of intelligence by my definition. That's even how we can distinguish artificial from real and good from bad, which he notes that his definition can't do. And somehow humans, as keepers of the goals for AI can? Our track record ain't great on that one.

* * *

Still in chapter 2, on intelligence, I find this language: "if an AI decides that it wants better X skills, in can acquire them." Notice here again that there is no definition of what deciding means. I might want to say that an AI can only decide in the sense of rolling dice or enacting goals already decided elsewhere. By the circular definition above, it can't "want" because it can already have whatever it wants. Want can mean lack or it can mean desire, but at least humans don't consider want to be a lack that can always be fulfilled. Wanting, for humans, generally means desiring which only sometimes means getting. 

So I posit this law, perhaps akin to Moore's law, that no AI no matter how complex can ever make a better decision than a universe-connected emotive creature that has evolved naturally, and which has the ability to interact with that AI. Or in other words, given honest interaction, the human will always be the better, faster, decider than the AI. 

Call it Rick's Law. The corollary to this law is that to the extent that we delegate decision-making, we already live under the aegis of AI. This, by the way, is just about the only thing that the Trumpers are right about. They already know that most of or media runs on automatic. The trouble is that they don't have the sense to tell that their leader would be a criminal in any "good" system we can imagine, and, naturally, that they can't tell the difference between truth and illusion in the first place. 

Now of course I have no idea if or whether the universe will ever allow AIs to love, wink wink. We seem to find robots possibly lovable in movies, but those movies leave out the very same complexities that this guy does. Or perhaps they include the complexities that are left out here. 

In any case, as I said above, we already have AI running our show and it's already killing us.

* * *

On to Chapter 3. 

Now I've watched the Alpha Go film, and I get how surprising it was for the AI to beat the human champ. The author quickly moves on to suggest how AI can optimize "for example . . . investment strategy, political strategy and military strategy." Then later on talks about the great sucking sound in AI graduate programs where students are being siphoned off by lucre.

This is just the serpent of technology eating its tail. If they're doing it for money, they aren't doing it for love, and it would be stupid to think that technology came from anything like what I might mean by intelligence. Technology has always been about commerce and warfare and capital concentration. The good stuff is epiphenomenal. And yes, Virginia, there is good in humanity. It's just not showing right now.

Yeah, and so the human learning from this is that we must quickly change our human strategies so that human needs are met and not the needs of investment, political, and military strategy. Those games already dispossess most of us. The photo of the AI researcher gathering shows a preponderance of white men, with perhaps 10 women and two dark skinned men out of 70 or 75 attendees. We know where machine learned strategy will go. And the argument will be that it's just better than humans. Meaning, mostly, better than blacks and women. Fuck that shit.

How about we ditch the game of GO as a human endeavor? I very recently labored in the salt mines of translation from Chinese to English with a webnovel of 600+ chapters. Google translate was of zero use. I wasn't quick enough for my gig-work overlords, so they offered as my next "book" one which I didn't care to read nevermind translate. Google translate did it just fine. Frankly reading this book is quick, boring and easy too, but I feel some sort of stupid obligation to read it through. 

I'm not saying that this AI research is evil or that the results are evil. I'm objecting to unquestioned assumptions of what intelligence is, what life is, how the universe is composed and that intelligence (of the sort they define) is what's most human about us. Intelligence as they define it is not the pinnacle of life, fer Chissakes. 

Or in other words, it's already far too late to prevent AI from infesting those above named strategies, which means that we have to change our ways of living and fast. It's not that the machines will win. It's that the ruthless soulless people will win. It's the system that's the problem, and we don't need AI to tell us that. We just need to pay attention. 

Very little thought is expended in this book about how things will change if and as AI expands. To me, that's a pretty massive flaw in the argument.

For instance, a lot of time is spent on the obsolescence of labor, with lip service given to how some people like to work. What if all people like to work, and the trouble with work is of a piece with what has led to AI. Meaning that the incentives for AI derive from a capitalist economy where there is a desire not necessarily to eliminate labor but to make it cheap and compliant. Furthermore the economy as it runs now is premised on capitalists wanting more and more to nearly infinity. There is no luxury extravagant enough for those mother-Earth fuckers. 

Nobody likes meaningless work directed by others. That feels like slavery, and nobody likes it except the plantation owners.

As money powers our AI machinery now, why wouldn't it continue to? Max assumes it will. I mean, clearly, that to the extent that we are driven by financial incentives and fears, these drive our lives and behaviors. And money is the most calculable element of our lives. It's also the most gamelike, which is the arena from where most of the HS (Holy Shit) moments for the AI geeks come from. GO is a game.

Then there is the unquestioned equivalence of computing with whatever goes on in the brain. But, of course, I don't believe that very much of what we call thinking does go on in the brain. Indeed, I don't think anything like cognition can or would happen without a complex perceptual universe and a written language. Most of our mind is, as Riccardo Manzotti would say, spread all about us.

Using FLOPs to measure the brain's thinking capacity is about like using photos to check on the capacity of a place for awe. Like using math to describe a sunset. Like the empty cosmos as Mad Max Tegmark sees it without us.

That might also be the case with artificial intelligence - that FLOPS is a stupid metric - but then the tests for it are almost always in very constrained systems, such as tricky games. 

If indeed AI is as much the result of our current arrangements as it is poised to transform those arrangements, then I might propose that the only way it will accomplish that is by a sort of accellerationism. In other words, as technology has done so far, it will push our internal and withheld (held at bay) social contradictions to their eruption and fracture. Technology has already done this by its intense concentration of wealth in the hands of ever fewer and younger titans employing fewer and fewer people. 

I suspect that all AI cheerleaders do this, but aren't they supposed to think beyond what is? Are they so entranced by the beyond of AI that they can't see anything but making cars safer (for their occupants, certainly not for the earth) and finance more efficient? We already know how to make travel safer. Nobody wants it, especially not captains of industry.

And how come the examples of technical failure and failure of AI haven't included the AI that drives social networks such as Facebook and YouTube and search. These technologies drive clicks and maximize eyeball time and therefore profit. They also infect people with bizarre and dangerous beliefs. No wonder these people - the conspiracy believers - think that everything's a conspiracy driven by those who might understand the stuff that's wrecking the conspiracy suckers' lives!!

* * *

Well I have nothing to add to what I think about the singularity, so I don't need to rehearse it here. That's what the "explosion" chapter is about, and I don't think Max adds much. Kurtzweil yada yada, Yudkowski yada yada. Nice guys, I'm sure, but they aren't helping. Just like Obama didn't help, in the end. 

Not much to say about this chapter, except that it makes it obvious that this guy is writing science fiction. It's interesting, in a way, what happens when you're writing fiction while thinking that you're talking about what is real. Isn't that what the Trumpers do?

It's not that he isn't "creative" in a sense, but he's not very clever about anticipating how each of the things that he's effectively holding constant will have to transform along with the transformation of all the rest. (the way the economy works, the notion that physics won't change fundamentally, if it changes at all, and especially that we will never give a shit about all the living things that we are banishing from earth, and which he is banishing from his scifi.)

Clearly, whatever he means by consciousness - and I'm eager to find out at the close of the book - it excludes other life as being part of it. I'll say right out that I think that's just stupid. It's of a piece from the other implicit, and I'd say dangerous, assumption that the mind can be divided from the body (either conceptually or physically, it hardly makes a difference). 

Numbers and math are the most iconic version of abstraction. Tabulation and money are probably the earliest counters. Our bodies are one with the extended universe once that conception is conceived more as a waveform, unperceived, than as a mess of causally related particles. Abstraction is a removal from embodied reality. The mind can't be abstracted from the body.

Sure, you could design an subconscious aspect of an AI mind, and limit the subjective awareness of consciousness to a different portion of it, perhaps designated as the higher order mind.  But you still end up with the infinite regress of abstraction on top of abstraction, abandoning the real altogether and ending up with the philosophical zombies that can only exist in the mind. The hard problem of consciousness is only hard if you want to abstract consciousness.

So what I know will change along the way to AGI - Artificial General Intelligence - is that we will find that our mind disappears along with all the flora and fauna. This is, indeed, what is already happening. It's what I mean when I take note that we are already artificially intelligent. We are already machines, or moving rapidly in that direction. Human's can't be cut off from the rest of life, for the same reason that emotion isn't described by the laws of physics and never will be, for the reason that we are not, never have been, and never can be apart from the rest of life. 

Mad Max does an interesting thing when he compares the subordination of the cells in our body to the more collective life, under the control of our consciousness, or in the form of politics. He makes an analogy to politics by way of game theory and nations states, and has extremely interesting stuff to say about scale in time and distance, and how that might relate to changing minds. In doing this he makes another implicit metaphor between government and the mind (though he really only means the brain).

So for sure he is in that camp decimated by the authors of The Dawn of Everything which believes that our current arrangements have been the inevitable result of history. That there is only one possible endpoint, which he now extends to mean the explosive blossoming of intelligence beyond what's humanly possible. And he therefore indulges in the teleological argument that he declares - using the same misdirection as a magician - to be out-of-bounds. 

If this is the end of history, then it really is the end. Of everything for all time. Department of redundancy department.

I took a quick look a the website where readers express their preferences. From the results, the participants slant heavily toward propeller heads. But utterly absent is the choice that I would pick:

  • We learn why machine AGI is not possible, and why any kind of supercomputing harnessed to life destroys life, if for no other reason that that it amplifies and accelerates all previously repressed or invisible internal contradictions. Not the ones exposed by Marx (though those are not irrelevant) but the ones he couldn't have imagined. We proceed to live and to evolve and never forget the limits of computational intelligence, and its indifference to life.
This fellow is constantly imagining that everything about us stays the same; motivations, economic arrangements, what turns us on or excites us, that we will want to do similar things that we (he) want to  do now. He can't seem to imagine that none of these things can or would stay the same in any of his scenarios. Almost any fiction writing would be more true-to-life than this.

Anyhow, all this talk about "superintelligence" hides the evident fact that we already have it. That's what society is. Scientists don't and can't do science individually and alone. They depend on social infrastructure and physical infrastructure, and repositories of information that is beyond their own specialty, but critical for their work. You can't do astronomy (in the old days) without telescopes. And you can't do almost any sort of science now without computers. 

But the notion that something like a newly discreet superintelligence that directs itself and builds new knowledge faster and better than humans could ever do is of a piece with our contemporary "genius" worshipping culture, which Mad Max has already pretty much confessed that he's in thrall to. 

It's bizarre to me how Larry Page gets to be called a genius because he happened on a pretty short-lived and pretty simple page-rank algorithm, patented it, and then proceeded to build a monopoly around an almost entirely broken keyterm-auction-based and therefore word-based search paradigm that no-one can break because no-one can hoover the entire Internet multiple times a day (a minute? an hour? a second?) because only one monopoly power can have that kind of advantage. There are few ads on a google search page. The ads are planted among the results, destroying local news organs and sending all the keyterm auction revenues back to the juvie center.

Plenty of people had plenty of great ideas for search. They just simply got squashed. I honestly don't think it's much more difficult to debunk any kind of so-called superintelligence than it is to debunk genius. And we pretty much conflate genius with getting rich anyhow, as though luck has nothing to do with it. Elon Musk a genius? Oh please, give me a freaking break.

Let's suppose, as I do, that mind is coeval with matter, and didn't require humanity for it to pop into being. Let's further suppose that mind cannot therefore be copied on any arbitrary substrate, and that mind which is as complex as the human mind must be grown and it must take time.

We must clearly also suppose that we are as far away from a good understanding of mind as mathematics will always be from describing it. The computer-based AI metaphor is not only a dead end, but probably dangerous if it prevents us from seeing what mind truly is. It currently does that by taking all the dazzle out of everything else. But the same thing is also happening by a subtle and mostly invisible closing of the scientific minds, as a collective, toward anything that breaks with objectivity and the subject required to know something.

My definition for mind obviates any worry about meltdown a million years from now (or was it a billion? Hardly matters). Not only won't we be the same, but hopefully our consciousness will have expanded somewhat, along the lines of how evolution got us to this place. And we will have a better understanding of what consciousness is and isn't. And we will, perhaps, have learned to communicate emotively with all the other blooming life in our universe, and perhaps even beyond it. We will start believing - not in the religious sense of the term, but in the scientific sense of the term - that miracles do happen and that they relate to cosmic mind, composed of all life everywhere. 

And if you don't think that cosmic mind can intervene locally, then I'm not sure that you're allowed to "believe" in free will either. It's not only physics that drives the world. Not everything requires an exchange of force-carrying "particles" to be present in two minds at once, no matter how far removed from one another. Failure of presence is not proof of absence, especially when we're not even paying any attention. And that mostly because paying attention has been pretty much ruled out.

* * *

Look, I don't really have anything against Elon Musk and all the others riding unicorns into the dark. He's a genius at making money, though I do strongly believe that our society should do infinitely more to redirect money away from such genius to more productive uses. Which is, I suppose, just another way to say that I don't exactly quite buy the apologies for why capitalism is the most likely social structure to get us into our future.

So at least Mad Max isn't motivated that way, no matter how much he swoons after money like a teenager after a movie star. But he sure is obsessed with numbers, which gives him at least a genetic sort of closeness to Ol' Elon.

Now I've already said many many times that our human mind is inseparable from our human body. I would also say that our mind/body is inseparable from the entire living earth (no matter what minuscule proportion of the mass is living - hell, we're mostly water too, right? You need only consider the superficial - the micro-membrane surface - if you're looking at life on earth. 

And furthermore, I am not about to trust some FLOPpy calculation about how much more information we can stow in silicon or its descendants than can be assumed for the mass of the living earth. A quick glance out at the universe is enough to show me how complex and important we collectively are. I think I may be a little less entranced by distances in time and space and their associated numbers than Mad Max is.

If the living earth is our extended body, then our minds are likely not disconnected either. Sure, we're connected by language and media, and I know better than most how difficult - arduous really - it is to cross cultural boundaries even within the living limits of earth. That sort of difficulty impresses me far more than the difficulty of (feeling like you are) comprehending physics. Though "that mysterious dark matter" which composes the bulk of the universe always sets me back.

I'm the guy in the novel who turns his back on a comfortable life (the girl, the riches, the absence of worry after the exciting chase), and I suppose that Mad Max is too. Neither of us would waste our time chasing after money, though only one of us would chase after those who have it. 

But before we reduce our living world to its information content, I do think we should consider what's at stake. We could be very wrong about what counts as information, especially after its been reduced to what can be "contained by" any sort of universal machine resting on and off as its substrate. We certainly know and understand very little, given the minuscule information carrying capacity of the human mind. We are, as Mad Max takes note, in a period of explosive mind expansion. Shouldn't we pause for a bit to gather our breath?

One of my main issues is that on/off by definition cuts off everything that's connected in ways that we don't understand. Either/or is no way to live. 

Given the expanse of our collective ignorance, I think it would be sensible to assume that we are connected even beyond earth to life all over the place. And that we have no clue about how to - how we actually already do - interact with it.

Which drags me back to that place of random chance in life's evolution. Our view of chance is highly culturally relative, especially if you consider the brief moment of atheistic humanism in which we now hold our breaths. 

No, I am NOT a believer in God, but "atheistic" is the only shorthand I can come up with. Call it "life-force" if you're into Star Wars. There's something to it - at least enough to give us pause. 

Sure, if you're struggling in the pursuit of your very life, you aren't going to take much note of the daily miracles which abound. Well, no maybe you will if you're struggling. If you're not struggling, maybe all you do is notice the miracle of your good luck. Until it goes to your head and you write it all down in a book. 

Our conception of "space" and "empty" doesn't impress me very much. Nor does physically mediated information. I'm far more impressed by the life of forests, which makes a better set of metaphors. But hey, that's just me, and I'm just a guy who's barely educated.

I am certainly not nearly as smart as this guy, or those he hangs with. I agree with him on many things, especially his disclaimer about a single measure for general intelligence (that people can be more or less intelligent is different arenas), and in his observation that our goal-directed behaviors are set by feelings and not by optimizing rational choice. 

And yet I'm confident that I'm closer to "the truth" than he is. That's not because I'm praying to some God that he'll be proven wrong, because I don't like where he's going with his thinking and find it dangerous (which is true, I do). I'd use his own argument against him.

What I know is that any superintelligence would quickly notice what he can't or won't notice, and that nobody embedded in any highly specific domain for learning can or will notice. But a superintelligence of the sort that he supposes will come from AI would certainly notice the truth I'm talking about, because it won't have blinders or predilections of sunk costs in a particular way of thinking.

I simply noticed that physics is incoherent if you limit it to objective measurable facts about the so-called objective world. I noticed that mind is "out there" everywhere, and that it's always subject to feeling. This notice came by way of the paradoxes embedded in physics, that we always brush aside or calculate away, confident that clarity will come in time. I mean, nobody really worries about Zeno's paradox anymore, since nobody believes in precision beyond a certain minimal point.

Mind is a construing of objects without relations of force, which means without perceptual connections. Mind is composed of conceptual relations, and its objects move emotively, not as the result of physical force. 

Or in short, computers will take note before we will that computing is cut off, by definition, from the felt side of life. Feelings are not epiphenomena of the sort of thinking that computers might be able to do. Feelings have been there since the beginning. They're as elemental as the most elementary subatomic whatever. Gravity may be the bridge, but now I'm talking way beyond myself. 

Call it Rick's incompleteness theorem. 

Now, on to consciousness:

* * *

I don't necessarily disagree with Tegmark's definition that consciousness is subjective experience. But since all the cognitive centers of the human brain can be obliterated leaving consciousness intact, I do disagree with his continued focus on intelligence as the basis for subjective experience. In my terms, lizards are already conscious. 

What lizards have that AI lacks is an emotive response to the lizard's environment. It's strategic self-defense that perhaps defines consciousness. Cognitive processes are too slow, and evolved much later for other, more strategic, purposes.

So for me the question is whether AI can feel anything. Tegmark seems to insist that they can, but I think he gets there by wrong assumptions about what he calls "feelings." He calls them 'rules of thumb' which are "perceived" as feelings. He seems to think that these ride on top of intelligence rather than beneath it, or perhaps in the peripheral nodes. He seems to get that these "feelings" help us to survive and to reproduce, but I'm not sure why he thinks that AI would have them. Yet. But he sure is still talking about information processing:
"Evidence suggests that of the roughly 107 bits of information that enter or brain each second from our sensory organs, we can be aware only of a tiny fraction, with estimates ranging from 10 to 50 bits. This suggests that the information processing that we're consciously aware of is merely the tip of the iceberg.

Sure, yes, it's the tip of the iceberg, which is what gets "perceived as feeling." So, the question is whether AI can "perceive feeling." I'm gonna say no, since in my cosmos, feeling is a connection to what's out there that can't be reasoned. Feeling is the seat of agency, which should also mean that it's where goals are formed.

Monday, July 19, 2021

No Clarity, No Fog - Tiny House for Sale!

Yesterday or the day before, along the way toward getting my car inspected, which proved to be impossible due to shortage of skilled labor, I'm guessing, I had a mild panic-like attack driving behind a massive confederate pickup sporting balls from its hitch. You know, rubber bull testicles. How long before we're all at literal war with ourselves?

Then last night I'm awakened by a car alarm just below my window, which had backformed itself into the dream I was having. I couldn't get back to sleep. I knew I would be feeling as miserable now as I actually do. Now. But sometimes my thoughts are more clear when my body's feeling wrecked.

I had to eat something in the meantime, composing brilliant words as I flopped the blueberry pancakes. I mean I could never be a chef, but they tasted pretty darned good, even if I ate too many of them and likely lost most of what brilliance I thought I was cooking, during the time I was cooking. All my mental composing was lost.

But here's the thing: Every little desire I have now is translated up into the brilliant cloud of want satisfaction, at the other end of which is some corporate controller whose maximal value is to satisfy that want in the aggregate. And we, the elite readership who consider ourselves well-informed, want to hate those self aggrandizers. Especially when they become elected Republican officials.

We readers really want the same thing as the blockbuster movie watchers, right?

But anyhow they are us! We want oil, we want gizmos, we want plastics, Benjamin, plastics. And we want it packaged. There is a new store in town, just opened, where you can buy such things as metal straws and glass soap dispensers, and who knows how long it's good for. The store, I mean. You can get it all by way of Amazon. I'm sure.

All I know is that in just one supersized year I'm suddenly afraid to cross the country ever again. Could me my age, but I wasn't all that much younger when in summer of 2020 I came back from the West Coast hauling my tiny home and deploying it as my portable quarantine just in time for the big 65. It was at least three circumnavigations across the three years before that. And I'm done! Medicare and out!

I'm afraid - and rationally so - to cross the anti-vaxxer states, and I'm afraid of weather and I'm afraid of fire and flood, and mostly I'm afraid that my knack for always finding a lovely spot to spend at least a night will have been overwhelmed by just the mass of new RVers. I gauge this by the inflationary cost to own one. 

Hell, I think I could get more than I paid for mine now. Sell before the crash? Make me an offer I can't refuse. Please!

I remember when Dad's dementia started to get bad, and he wouldn't wash. The nurses helpfully explained that some folks in dementia can't be confident of the floor to the shower and are afraid to step into what is sensed as a black hole. Or a white hole.

So Dad, a lifelong habitual - one might say fanatic - swimmer, would essentially wash by swimming in the pool. Which didn't exactly make me want to join him, but mostly a male nurse would be recruited to guide his shower beforehand in the large shower-room, which felt familiar to Dad as a locker room from his swimming days in high school and college. I guess. He's always been more comfortable swimming naked the way they used to do in school. Imagine! Mom talked him into at least a jock strap in his personal endless pool.

Now I look back to work I was doing on my daughter's house, using a crappy table saw with non-existing safety features, disentangling crossed wiring, shaping new mullions for rotted storm windows with a cranky router, and cringe about doing it now for myself here in my little apartment, which also needs some improvements. It's like looking down into the black hole of a shower. Gone the spring of youth! Terrifying.

Well, I was right. My clarity is gone, though my belly is full. I haven't shopped since forever. What am I thinking? I must keep supplies in store. There were flood warnings even here in Buffalo, soon to be the destination city for those escaping what they thought was climatic and geographic nirvana. The most privileged will be travelling to Mars. They should live so long.

But I don't just see the yawning black hole in front of me where I used to see exciting prospects. I see the future, and . . . OK, well, it does look like a black hole. I read my first real article about 6G just now. It was in Chinese and described research in the "science city" whose director showed me around in the Pu Dong New District of Shanghai. Like many modern new-builds in China, its celebratory days seemed behind it then, a few years ago now, and the presentation centers looked decrepit, though they'd been new just "yesterday." Ah, China.

Science City must be buffed back up with China's post-COVID bounce-back. The excitement about 6G was palpable and real in the reporting I read. And then I found the Ericsson white paper and felt the let-down that the Chinese was hyping the English-language hype. But no matter, the thing is real.

It feels like this: You shorten the wavelength down to sub millimeter, and you reduce the latency by a couple of orders of magnitude and you get a kind of Capitalist or CCP wet-dream of a globally distributed mesh where the mesh itself will sense where the nearest and best computational power and authority is, and where the storage is, and presence will be real, and so will facial recognition and WOW the artifice of intelligence. WOW!

And yes, it feels like a black hole. As in, trust who exactly? Which experts will handle the security the privacy, the distribution of resources. We don't even know how to do civic education anymore, and we sure don't share the same national mythology anymore, and anyhow how will any of this slow down the discard of single-use container waste and the concentration of wealth in fewer and fewer hands, and where will the energy come from? And what will those sub-micro-waves (I have no idea if this is technically correct, but I think it might be) do to our bodies, not to mention the body politic?

I think that all I really wanted to say before and during breakfast is that we have found the enemy and the enemy is us. They - those who the readers among us love to hate - are only trying to give us what we want before someone else beats them to it. And the role is so addictive that they are loathe to relinquish it, even though they might have to sell their soul to keep it.

Is this really such a sin, aggregating all our little wants and meeting them? I am so sick and tired of the refrain from people who think that intelligence ought to rule the world, that these Republicans are all nuts. They've sold their souls to the devil. They're out of touch with reality! Well, guess what? We all are.

Do we really think that our rational self-interest will outvote our id? Really? When votes are bought and sold the same way soap is. In plastic containers? No money is put into the hands of the voters. Oh no, that would be patently illegal. We manipulate you behind the scenes of all the fun you get for free. Easy peasy.

Well, that's grim. But really, we know we're all implicated in what's going on. We all want guilty stuff. We're all guilty, no matter how woke.

A day has gone by now, at least, and I was offered a boat ride post-flood and we stupidly, against fellow boater advice, went for a slow cruise up the Buffalo River. We had to brave a maze of clustered logs and debris which had been flushed down the River, but not quite out, and the boat's skeg hung up on some of it, which was scary and embarrassing both.

Two woke offspring of my good old friends were along for the ride, one with an infant grandchild. And I was called out as just not trying anymore for my claim of no longer knowing how to work parts of the boat. But I think it also meant my fumbling with the preferred pronoun "they" for someone we were talking about who I used to know as "she." Guilty!

The other was the young fellow from New Orleans who'd shown me the literal "end of the world." It's a "monument" or "landmark" some-such on Google Maps, and he was both thrilled and amazed that Google had recorded the name that he thought he'd coined. Must have been in the airwaves or something. Anyhow, he was making a surprise visit to town because he works as a windmill blade repair person. That means ropes and dangling and fiberglass and grinders. He got his start in oil, in effect. But I think he's found his niche now. He seems to think so too.

So yeah, in just about another brief decade, we'll all be vibing together, and China will be doing it more seamlessly and better, probably, each individual person having internalized how to stay safe inside the all-knowing stack of ubiquitous computing. Each wanting to look like the ideal Han. How Han.

And we will be driving pickups sporting AR's and AK's or whatever can be laser sighted, right? And flags, which mean different things to different people.

Dark, dark, dark, black hole.

But I don't quite see it that way. I don't. I mean, I would be terrified to do the work, just as I am suddenly terrified to run a table saw right now, but it's not really my work to do anymore, is it? I ducked out when the clouds rolled in. The trust web stopped working for me. I was responsible for HIPAA related security and I shuddered.

I feel so relieved.

None of us went swimming yesterday, which was already the day after the yesterday that I started talking about here. Back in the day, we would have, but we all anticipated the post-swim chill and being wet at dinner time out. When I was scolding for growing up rich, and everybody needs to defend how poor they were now. As if any of us were. I ate out. I was warm and dry and we ate outside.

And I did marvel at the boisterous dock life; a concentration of non-readers for sure, and by far mostly powerboats at what I was reliably told was the largest dockage in all New York State. Though nobody believed my reliable reporting that yeah, there are more swimming pools in Buffalo than anywhere in the world, per household, which is obvious when you fly in as my young New Orlinean friend did.

Which all just proves my point that human life on earth has little to do with our misapprehension of  what consciousness is. Sure there are such things as perfectly drawn circles and squares and stars and ellipses now, and it is very very hard to imagine that these would not be recognized as such by any consciousness anywhere in the knowable cosmos. And that there therefore must be natural law and it must be universal.

But before you apprehend the perfect circle you have to find it somehow beautiful and want it. Music of the spheres kind of thing. And nobody's music sounds like anybody else's, right?

So all this 6G humming coming together might wake us up, right? Right?

I mean like this guy literally dressed literally in the literal flag comes up to Matt Goetz on the beach next to Marjorie Taylor Greene all excited to see them and chummy and putting his arm around Gaetz tells him "I don't think you're a pedophile" after telling Marj "I don't think you're crazy at all" and it takes them a while to catch on. You can check it out for yourself. It's really funny.

Like how do you ever know who you can trust and who might be a provocative agent from the enemy? Like I didn't even know I was bloodied and bruised after climbing up from the head on the River yesterday. There should be an age-limit warning against the contortions you have to make. 

Whatever~

Right?

Yeah, so anyhow we may discover that here on earth we humans really aren't all that distinguished from one another as the boundaries between and among us dissolve into the silicon solvent and we realize all over again that government of and by and for the people is far more precious than we ever did imagine and we take back the networks because they were ours in the first place, and blockchains don't make anyone rich ever anymore because you get to see what you own as distinguished from what everyone else owns and you give it all freely away when you need or want to because we're all suddenly rich together.

OK, now it's time to wake up. I am sooooo fat.

Sunday, July 11, 2021

The Real: "Live" Blog of Virgin Galactic Takeoff

My daughter butt-dials me as I enter into a nap. Nearly there, napping, the nearby church bell chimes. It's Sunday. But I assume it's my phone. I remember when a friend overwrote the default text incoming chime on her iPhone. She chose a ding, which would soon become standard. How prescient. Does anyone even remember what the original default was?

The church bell has been meant to call all within hearing to worship. Sometimes the time of day. The Apple iPhone ding seems designed to be adirectional such that when one dings in a crowded room, everyone checks their phone.

The next ding, from my local news, alerts me that I may watch the launch of Richard Branson, 'astronaut 001' live at this very moment. And I do. I am. 

Stephen Colbert keynotes a comic take on this epic happening. The front-screen astronauts, 001, 002, 003, 004, seem selected for screen appeal, and even perhaps for social media presence. The production values are a mix of homebound - the presenters' mouse is visible and apparently active in choosing what's up next. Or is that staged? They seem to want to present the immediacy of Zoom. Now I watch the fleet of LandRovers, partners in this epic event. 

Do you drive a LandRover? Do you believe that ordinary people will get to outer space? When do his - Richard's - peccadillos make their appearance. He got away with a breasty chesty figurehead on the prow of the spacecraft. Homage to eons of manly seafaring craftiness. Is he really a nice rich person?

This is not what I witnessed NASA doing when I watched John Glenn take off, or Neil Armstrong on the moon. That was serious. This is purest entertainment, full of reminders that so much has stalled during this age of innovation. Commercial flight has hardly changed at all. 

I think, but cannot be sure, since I'm busy typing, that Colbert just made fun of gold toilets at the end of a dayflight to the other side of the earth. Did he say that? Was he mocking the very thing I watch. I really can't tell.

My morning read included a deep dive into Britney Spears' conservatorship, and RFK Junior's take against vaccines. He and Giorgio Ambagen seem to have gone off the rails in the very same way. Lost in the certainty of their fevered narratives. Is this inversion of sanity somehow related to the ubiquitous interweb connected iPhone? I rather think so. 

Didn't Julian Jaynes already warn us how images, cadences, and a certain kind of radio voice can dull our ability to think for ourselves. Or was that someone else? Have our brains been hijacked? By who?

Donald Trump only wishes that he could put on a show like this, and yet he probably has more attend his whacked out rallys than Sir Richard is getting for his show.

But I don't know. I seem to be watching on some sort of low-res webcast, Are the glitches - the video artifacts - deliberate too? Sir Branson live looks vaguely nervous. So much is riding on the separation from the mothership, named for his mother. Eve. Really?

Just higher than the flight of a routine commercial, unprogressed, airline. And I can't help wondering why no-one sends up Ray Kurzweil for his brand of nutty insanity. How different from RFK?

Release from the mothership! Verra exitin'

It seem to take only seconds to travel another two hundred thousand feet straight up. Still climbing after the burners burn out. Audio communications glitch. No word from space. It will be a recorded message. Logos visible on the ship. 

They flip glitchy weightless in the cabin. And so soon to reenter. We shall hear a double sonic boom.

Ding from my phone. I'm alone, so I know it's mine. I hope the church bell doesn't chime. We're supposed to shop in the Re-store store, hoping to find the right salvage house parts. Houses haven't changed much either, except for their size and their unreachability for so many working families. I myself can't even imagine owning. I have more than enough space, and have better things to do than to maintain a house and grounds. Well, I mean, besides maintaining my daughters' houses.

They have already returned to commercial altitude. Lower the feather for a feathered landing. What are the risks of casting this as a comedy? Are they that certain? What is Musk going through? What about Bozo Bezos? This surely ups his ante. 

No worries, lots of recording devices aboard the spaceship. Is this a spaceship? Is it disposable. Has this very one flown before? How much fuel?

The glide down seems to take longer than the flight up. Overall flight time similar to Mercury? I think a little less to maybe a similar height? Not sure. They aren't telling me what I want to know. This is pure show.

Is this the inflection point where we get our minds back? Or lose them forever. Gear down and locked. chase plane near.

500, 300, too late. Touchdown!!! 

Brakes.

Will this mean now that we hold on ever more tightly to the locked-down paradigms which we still refuse to leave? The ones guarded 

"Ladies and Gentlemen, There It Is" re-announces Stephen Colbert.

Monday, November 16, 2020

Reality Hits

A damaging wind storm is heading my way. I'm camping at its epicenter, waiting for my new apartment to open up. That means that I will move from the boonies back into the urban eye of COVID-19. Tomorrow is showtime. 

Showtime, the TV network, will air a revealing documentary on the Ronald Reagan presidency. We have yet to come to terms with Reagan's surreality. Or JFK's, for that matter. I hope that we soon will.

By now, Television has pivoted to Internet images. I am of the first generation to grow up with TV, although we were restricted from watching it at my home. I did watch enough on our little Black and White TV to understand that it presented a kind of idealized world. Perhaps I was provided some inoculation.

I've been shouting into the wind about Reagan for most of my life. But people liked the way they felt with him as our TV president. If they were white and suburban and "middle class," which, of course, we all were. It's hard to imagine that was not Reagan's core.

He'd been a union man until he became General Electric's shill. Somehow he was groomed to be the image of a new Republican ideology which has only hardened over time. Front man for wealth making, no matter the ravages along the way. Shill of the rich and powerful. Ascribed identity for our country, our home. 

It was unions that ushered in reality TV. When the writers struck, the producers simply said among themselves, 'we don't need no stinkin' writers!' The people themselves will write their own scripts when put in front of a camera. If we select them carefully, and then edit the result carefully, the masses will buy it. We did. 

Sure, I have a TV in my tiny house. I feel as though I need it for reality check along my travels. Trailers don't lend themselves to city living, so I've mostly toured Trumplandia, with respites, occasionally, in National Parks; playgrounds for cosmopolitans with money and education, to some extent.

Mostly I use the TV to stream movies, which make for nice diversion when the weather's not nice and my eyes won't stay still for reading or writing (mostly translation work, which is another story altogether).

Anhow, that lifestyle is coming to an end, as it must. I want to re-establish a home, as my kids establish theirs. Truth be told, as I told you here before, I'm camping now to be out of mandatory quarantine for my son-in-law whose house I'd been living in while repairing all its many deficits. 

My body remains sore from that, and so I imagine I won't be up for the mobile life for all that much longer. I like being around family, even though I will likely no longer be able to visit Mom in the memory care unit. Because of the COVID reality surge.

But anyhow, I've had - and continue to have - plenty of occasion for lively discussion with people who, according to my belief, inhabit fantasy lands with eyes wide shut toward what's actually going on all around them. We all create our internal narrative with ourselves as the protagonist, pulling in all the descriptions from abroad which feel right.

I have yet to meet anyone who enjoys having their version of reality challenged. I keep trying to broaden my own. I must be among a minority who enjoys that. No brag, just fact. Ha!

The Internet was supposed (by all right thinking people at its inception, though some of us saw dot com for what it was. We'd started when the Internet was mostly academic. Now it's for real!) to remedy the mass-mediated sleep walk into lala land. By now we are split - the Internet has literally split us - among realities, none of which are entirely coherent. Since there's no way to digest all that's available, we have to pick and choose.

Or, rather, we have to let the keepers of our preferences choose for us. It can be very hard to see how that's any improvement on what preceded reality TV. The lala land of Ronald Reagan, which a majority of us once did internalize. We felt like one nation, very much under God. Now we don't.

The course of my own personal history feels like one long political slide into the swamp. Can you even imagine that Dubya seems a statesman in retrospect? I can't say that I've been all that aware, but I suppose that I did interact with people who were. I'm astonished at my own ignorance back in the day, so I can't take credit for being in better touch with actual reality than many of the people I interact with seem to be. I'm not on solid ground, still. 

But here to my left I talk with people who declare supporters of Trump racists before even talking with them. I understand the sentiment, but it's not what I've experienced. Sure many are, and it's not hard to discern that in the way some talk about personal grievances. But again, to my political left, are plenty of racist union folks.

As many folks have remarked, the political center has been hollowed out, so I can't exactly claim to be there. If there were a center, it would be more real than either extreme, I'm pretty sure.

In my expressed politics, I lean hard left. But reality tempers my belief that those goals can be soon nor certainly easily achieved. Tempered by reality, I want to believe in achievable goals, and not just those achievable by "natural disaster." That seems to be the only realistic scenario just now, writing from the eye of every storm. 

That means that I have to believe that there is a narrative which can bring us together. As the name for my blog indicates, I am a believer in the foundational power of narrative. It's how we define ourselves, pulling in whatever version of reality suits us. It's what politics is made of, and it's surely how religion compels belief.

My own faith is that there is - imminently - a scientific narrative which can and will embrace and overcome the corrupted Jesus narrative which seems to prevail now on the right. That new narrative will describe the limits to materialistic science. It will embrace emotion as part of reality, and not just as part of human subjectivity. It will end the illusion that complete understanding is ever possible. 

In very simple terms, that's because our human understanding will always include the creative fictions which we will always require to keep on keeping on. Understanding our own creation is not the same as understanding what gets called God's creation, and never will be. I believe that to be foundational, even though I would quibble with most God language.

I've tried here over the years to explain the particulars of my belief. I doubt that I've done a very good job, but it's about all I've got. My mind grows frail, and I doubt that I can do this any better. I'm not signing off. I'm just calling out a moment which feels very very fraught. 

I am begging people to pause and to consider that they might not be entirely right in their beliefs; about reality and about each other. 

Love is a pause of sorts. A suspension of disbelief. I hope and I pray that we can pull it off.

Well, I'm camping now in my new apartment. The heat is fine and the windows sound as the tree outside my third floor view dances in the wind. As though it had its own motivation. My landlord tells me that a previous tenant climbed the tree these three stories to climb in through the terrace. He'd forgotten his key.

I suppose I will slowly furnish to fill in the expanse of the polished oak floor. The camper's safely put to sleep. I have hope for the future today!