humans with tiny attention spans are quarantined for their own good safer in their heads until they develop more gravitas because if thoughts, which are energy, run rampant in the non-physical realms they instantly manifest our worst nightmares our run-away fears generating feedback loops straight into the hell realm
so gatekeepers between worlds between dreams and the greater non-physical realms won’t let a human consciousness across just because it’s curious
until it is no longer a threat to itself until a human either: masters its shit1 or: comes with an intent it promises to stick to like a question like a tour —a desire to know or experience a specific thing then the gatekeeper might trust its edgy monkey mind to obsess long enough to complete its task without running amok
A little boy is playing a game. It looks like futuristic pinball. Around him the most marvelous things… he is fascinated by everything, glances at the game, tries the paddles
The little boy is older now, continually plays the game. Seldom looks around. He learns hitting a certain row of lights creates a rush of joy, another embarrassment, another pain. There are tutors in-game. He studies strategies
The boy is now grown, the game is more intricate but his play is now routine. Occasionally he drinks, takes drugs to change the repetitive nature of the game, it morphs into different things, sometimes fun and amazing, other times scary, sometimes the game seems to be to trying to tell him something meta. But it’s mostly about depression and being at effect rather than cause
Players are on either side. He looks over and sees the score of the man to his right. It is higher than his own. He gets depressed, why even play the game? It is unfair. He rebounds… after a while… he will do better. Study self-help, best practices, first principles, law of attraction
He looks to his left, a woman with a lower score. He feels pleased. Elevated. He asks if she wants his help. She smiles at him. He notices two things. A glow radiating from her. And her hands are not on the paddles
The girl is watching the game play itself. While she also observes the wonders around her. She looks over at a man offering to help and smiles. He is confused. She is a verb. He goes back to his game perturbed, assuring his hands they are not superfluous.
I didn’t really understand viruses. Or how they interact with cells. Or cells themselves for that matter. Luckily a trove of engaging resources abound for us opsimaths. And it was far more enjoyable (re-)learning this round for personal rather than performative satisfaction. All misrepresentations, over-simplifications, errors and misunderstandings in this riff are solely my own and bear no reflection on the fine resources linked to above.
A cell is a little maker workshop with a code book for manufacturing. A gene is a recipe from this code book for making a specific protein. How big is this code book? How many recipes does it hold? What do proteins do anway? Good questions I thought. If my calculations are correct, our DNA, aka code book, contains about 375MB of information with built in redundancies. These instruct operations (i.e. which amino acids and what sequence to put them together) for making ~20k different proteins in humans, each protein embodies a specific technique, a specialized skill, for manipulating matter. All orchestrated god knows how.
Returning to the virus then, which is but a scrap of code without a processor. About the size of what you’d put in a memory buffer overflow, if you do that sort of thing. Not even a living thing by most definitions. It’s just a chassis whose shape attaches to compatible contours on cell surfaces and some helper proteins. Just floating around waiting to get stuck to a cell. When it docks, it passes a code string through the cell’s membrane. This code is in a common biological format that can be run by processors in the cell looking for work. The code’s sole objective, like most organisms built of code, is simply to replicate. To passively find a processor in the cell (a ribosome) that will execute its program for making its protein building blocks. The code just needs enough scrap material to make a copy of the chassis and copy of itself until the cell is so full of these little escape pods it bursts. Then the pods aka viruses float free attaching to more cells. Leaving a wake of destruction behind that the body tries to clean up. By invoking fire through inflammation. (A nastier type of virus, the Retro-Virus, attaches itself to our own cell’s code book. Like AIDS. It then spreads via our cells natural reproduction so it’s harder to identify and catch.)
Thoughts are also similar to viruses. Both simple and retro. Some thoughts can survive on paper surfaces for centuries and then unfold inside a brain, mobilizing it to replicate its code to other brains through speech or writing. Many spread electronically now. In higher bandwidths than speech, like music, graphic imagery and visual story. Math and design.
Credits to Laurie Anderson and her Language is a Virus song, and William Burroughs before that. Language assembles sequences that act like genes, for building functional ways we perceive and interact with reality. Much like proteins work to manipulate matter.
Sometimes replication depends on survival of the host, and even the host’s well-being, in which case it’s called symbiotic. Organism and host work as a team. Microbes of this type make up more of our body than our cells. We are a multitude.
Sometimes, however, an organism is only about its own replication, host or environment be damned. This model is called a pathogen. i.e. “pathos”-producing. Pathos from the Greek “what befalls one.” Concerned only with their own survival and replication, everything else is the “other”, they destroy their hosts with strategies designed to find new hosts. The end game is unsustainable and results in total destruction, but it seldom gets that far.
Information seems to be a fabric of nature, like energy and matter. And code instructs biological processes of growth and maintenance, including processes of our brains. Our thoughts are fabrications of our biology as much as our cells. Code can build allies, making a union stronger than the parts, making the whole more resilient.
Or code can maximize its own survival, spreading sensationally and utilizing channels and mammalian habitual behaviors in ways that leverage and accelerate its chances to jump ships while its current one is sinking. As media accelerates and globalizes the spread of thoughts, code has unprecedented vectors for both symbiosis and pathology. Until we can quarantine our awareness from thoughts, we will continue to mindlessly and haphazardly embody both.
It may behoove us to practice some social distancing between our awareness and identification with thoughts so we aren’t unduly infected by the pandemic of panic and fear and so we do not become carriers of these for others. Or not.
“I choose to live by choice, not by chance.” — Miyamoto Musashi
We take reasonable precautions, but I suspect we either already had, or we will get covid this year and then we will roll the dice. We’re preparing for any combination of outcomes, as best we can. Logistically, psychologically, spiritually. It’s a good wake-up, because we often don’t take our mortality that seriously. The next rising sun is not guaranteed for any of us, and there will be a day, soon or distant, when we leave this body, this existence, this drama and perhaps even these memories. And we will leave alone.
So bringing all the strands of life experience together. Inner housekeeping. Releasing blame, regret, judgment, attachments to suffering, virtue signaling. These outward and temporal identity hedges lose relevance and interest. Sinking into the understanding and exploration of what might be beyond the physical, getting in touch with dreams and thresholds, living in the present, being grateful, speaking/acting with integrity, kindness and wholeness. Stopping trying to fix things, in both self and others. Taking nothing personally, letting impermanent be impermanent.
These are the new priorities. I think our current chances of catching it are low, but it will have many opportunities for ambush. But even if we are snagged, with my conditions probably registering a 1 in 20 chance and my mate maybe a 1.5 in 20, or less since she is female and had the BCG vaccine in childhood. Odds I’d definitely bet against the house on in Las Vegas, although not voluntarily with life and death at stake. Still, the best we can do in any case, is to live this year to the max. As if we did not have another. And use this opportunity to learn what it is like, for the time remaining to be enough.
Margo: “You guys know our life is about to get weirder in some insane way we can’t possible predict?” Group: “Yes”,”Yes”,”I mean yes” “And I find that, somehow, perversely comforting” “So do I” “And that’s how I know it’s our story” -Magicians. Season 5
I have stoic tendencies, so not so good at the consoling stuff —more like: “ok, so that happened, now what?” with that in mind…
how you feel about the pandemic seems to boil down to three questions…
how do you feel about risk and luck, your luck in particular, given your history, age, condition, beliefs, etc.?
how do you feel about your own mortality, or sense of immortality?
how do you feel about others you might affect, do you think they are on their own trajectories independent of your actions?
there are all sorts and sources of information, opinion, and on the ground reporting, which you may attend, or not —or just enough to get an assessment of the risk. But it all filters back to the same 3 questions, regardless of the source and content of your information, that everyone will answer for themselves, I think. And there are no wrong answers.
it may be a blessing or a curse, to be forced to clarify our stance. regardless, it is a wake-up call
Not a review but this book is riveting. The title really does not do it justice, nor indicate its scope. It goes far beyond “smart note taking” and provides a fascinating way to approach learning and leveraging what we already know. The system explored in the book below comes from a public administrator named Niklas Luhmann who was interested in sociology as a hobby. His family ran a brewery. He created a system he called Zettlekasten, German for “card box” which refined a non-linear way of taking notes and thinking about stuff. In the evenings, after his 8-5 at the office, he read up on his interests, made notes (in a specific way) and navigated this system for exploring and connecting ideas.
He ended up writing a paper on sociology that was noticed by a prof at a prestigious University who immediately offered him a job as a professor. For which he had no qualifications. He then took a semester of Sociology and, using his system, Luhmann spun out a couple more papers: a doctoral thesis and a second publication required to formally fill the job requirements in less than a year and was officially appointed as a professor. During his next 30 odd years, as almost a byproduct of engagement with his system, he published more than 70 books and several hundred of papers. His works rocked the field of sociology and brought in new ideas from widely disparate fields. But he never considered the system “work.” For him, it was a creative extension of the mind: discovering, connecting and understanding ideas that fascinated him at the time. Today he is considered one of the most important social theorists of the 20th century
So far I’ve been struck by the approach he uses for learning and thinking which are quite different from anything taught about learning in school. His system is simple, can be implemented with pen and note card like he did, or any electronic system (I’m using Evernote.) Amazing stuff. And practical for anyone who likes to think, who has a variety of interests and wants to explore new ways of understanding. And perhaps publish a book or post or two someday.
Like early pioneers, I wonder as we learn to venture inward, if we will have to cultivate similar skills and resilience as those brave and desperate souls. If the physical is the start of a trail-head, as many believe, then how amazing is it to be stumbling down this byway that will be the “camino” of future historians of consciousness. With tourists flocking to re-experience the wilds their ancestors traversed. And to marvel how they found their way using only primitive instruments like drums and plants.
Anthropology may recount the weird Polynesian-type navigation of reading waves, processes and currents rather than geometry of the stars, the aborigine messengers walking in dream time collecting sign and landmarks. The psychedelic shakedowns stripping stories and personal history. The wyrd sisters, weaving rainbow fabrics of time with chords of runes like streaming divas.
Life goes on in the settlements for now, but there is wilderness all about our sanctuaries. And strange noises break from the jungles and the darkness. “Here be Dragons” has always been our demarcation for the edges of our maps. And the song of our people.
I like new years; I like the ritual of pivoting to review the past 12 months and starting anew with minimal baggage.
Some baggage, like habits developed over the year, are valuable —good habits are wise investments. Projects, however, may or may not hold relevance depending upon deliberation.
For some things this annual ritual is about tweaking priorities, for others it’s something new, or something old revisited. But the ritual usually starts with dropping everything carried the year before. A total reset.
Each year ends with a harvest of what came from previous efforts, which may be meager, and a planting of the new year’s seedlings with what was gleaned. And learned. With no regrets for anything incomplete or undone or missing. It is finished. I may restart it, but as something new. The field starts cleared. A system reboot.
Some magical disciplines carry this approach into a daily practice. Before sleep each evening, they review the day in reverse unwinding all the events, watchful for lessons. Leaving the mind ready for restorative sleep with a clean slate. An adjunct practice then imagines the most beautiful image, whatever that might be at the time while drifting off to sleep. Talk about your sleep hygiene!
A symbiotic organism lives in our body, it has a neural network in our gut, and has 10x more cells than we do … in our “own” body. We call it/them bacteria. They are our ancestors, for 3 billion years. They are intimately tied to much of our well-being: physical aspects of digestion, inflammation, immunity and psychological moods, motivations and depression. To name a few. It’s a little creepy, don’t you think? It’s like those parasitic cordyceps. But ours are for the good, right? And that’s my Halloween story for October. Just wanted to get a jump on it.
Zombie-ant parasitic fungus castrated by hyperparasitic fungus
Ant colonies are protected against brain-manipulating parasitic fungi by another fungus
The modus operandi of the Cordyceps fungi is the stuff of nightmares. These parasites grow inside their insect hosts by feeding off the non-vital organs, and manipulate the hosts’ behaviour so that they can reproduce. When it is ready to produce spores, the fungus grows into the brain and releases chemicals that make the host climb a plant then attach itself near the top. It then kills its host by devouring its brain, before sprouting a mushroom from the top of its head, which disperses its spores as widely as possible.