A lack of secrets is freedom?

Now that more and more evidence appears to show our subcultural leanings are tied to genetic differences, is it wrong of me to say that I’m glad to leave well enough alone, live and let live/die, try not to convince those comfortable in their subculture(s) to read/believe anything I have to say?

And, similarly, don’t put down or belittle those unlike me because we are who are we, thanks to our parents and our environment?

If a person wants to be in control, let that person lead?

If a person is a paranoid schizophrenic type, then let that person have delusions of adversarial conspiracies to play back in thoughts/mind?

If a person is happy shouting religious statements, let that person enjoy the euphoria, no rationalising necessary?

I have been an empty vessel, willing to breathe in a new personality for the sake of feeling that person’s life, expressing that person in words that simulate actions such a person might take, given a different scenario to play out in the future, based on our habits of repeating the past by redressing the old to make it new again.

The habit of mine of appearing here almost every day follows the habit of writing down records of my thoughts and actions from about age five, much of it thrown away in 1985 for reasons I say are due to an unhealthy lifestyle at the time.

Otherwise, I am at peace with myself, never wholly satisfied but such is the life of a person who is a body that demands food, sleep and social contact as long as it is alive and relatively pain-free.

I end this meditative prayer of a blog entry for today, no longer pretending to have secrets to share/hide, secret/shadow organisations to pretend to perpetuate, or storyline to stretch across this virtual piece of paper.

I have come to the point in my life where I am content sleeping most of the day and waking up to dreams too strange, weird and fantastic to spend my conscious time writing about.

When one’s dreams are more fascinating than reality, regardless of electronified augmentation, then one like me has reached his state of self-actualisation, out of reach of retail shopping therapy, all-day social engagements, enemies to fear and/or galactic territories to conquer.

A happy little boy once again, safe in the thoughts of the sheltered life his parents provided during his formative years.

Amen. Peace be with you.

When your life is fully analysed, you and a robot are indistinguishable?

If you seek to quantify and qualify every nanosecond of your day, you are replaceable as soon as we turn your actions into algorithms and your thought processes into viable state machines.

Which makes the truth less meaningful when augmented reality is a rolling definition, like new scientific discoveries and memorable adverts written by robots for robots.

Relax, in other words. What’s the hurry to get to the future? Enjoy your inefficiencies — they make you you!

The hacks, they keep on coming — are you a “one hack” wonder?

When you want honey, do you make the bees angry before you pull out a piece of the hive?

The universe is here because I am here just like a paper cone is only paper until it is a speaker and what is a speaker without an audience?

Take two groups:

  1. The first group believes in the open and honest discussion of scientific methods.
  2. The second group believes in the civil discourse of sly competitiveness.

Both groups believe in the betterment of their respective societies/[sub]cultures.

However, a little problem occurs when one group uses the other’s subcultural norms for advantages within their own group.

Is it miscommunication?  Misappropriation?

How do they, together, benefit our whole species?

Because I believe the universe is here because I am here, I want, as long as I am happily able to think so, the species, our species, within our Earth-based ecosystem that has nurtured us for thousands, no, billions of years, to use this brief period of peaceful coexistence with the rest of the solar system to expand into the galaxy.

When I am gone, the universe is gone and none of this will matter to me because my set of states of energy as a recognizable entropic confluence will disperse but remain temporarily as memories in a small number of members of our species and even smaller number of members of other species, barely a footnote in the yellowed pages of old newspapers.

Does the universe make me happy as is?

I have learned that very few people change their behavioural patterns when allowed to wallow in their sorrow or anger, let alone convince other, happy, people to join them.

Yet, happiness for its own sake, like art and humour, does what, exactly?

If burning down a forest makes me happy, there will be a lot of people and members of other species who disagree, adamantly so.

If destroying an economy makes me happy, there will be a lot of people who agree as well as a lot who disagree.

What kind of happiness should we attain?

After all, we are a competitively cooperative species, sharing and hoarding, fighting and loving, all at the same time.

Our lives are short in length, some brighter and louder than others, some sadder, some happier, some kinder, some meaner, some in-betweeners.

Is there a shortcut to happiness that makes the universe beneficial to us all, regardless of our physical/mental condition(s)?

We are a nearly-fully connected species, the fractal spinoff of rudimentary central nervous systems, remodeling ourselves on bigger and bigger scales because we have no other workable model against which we positively compare ourselves within the known universe.

We talk about revolutionary and evolutionary changes in our socioeconomic activity on sub-sub-subcultural levels when the grand scheme hasn’t changed one iota: a species competing against itself because of a myopic view of the universe.

We realize, in rare glimpses, that we are part of the universe rather than living in an us-vs.-them scenario, “them” being you/self/God/universe/other.

Rather than bemoan, bedevil and punish people who hack computers/life/universe, let us look at the hacks from a species/universal perspective.

What am I gaining from those who circumvent my subcultural norms, the rules, both states and implied, that define me and the people happily living and perpetuating the subculture?

What am I losing, instead?

Can I turn the circumventers on their heads and reverse any damage they’ve caused?

How do I absorb the lessons they learned while they took/stole/[ab]used information from my open society?

Some people like clover honey and some people like sourwood honey.

How we get to the honey without disturbing the bees is the first step for any one of us to feed our wide variety of happy tastes and preferences.

Southern Living, rediscovered

While excavating further into the bowels of the hoards of our house well-furnished with modern antiquities (sounds better than junk or trash), we found a box of Southern Living magazines from around the turn of the century.  Here are a few scanned samples for storing in our electronic pile of “historical documents”:

Southern-Living-001 Southern-Living-002 Southern-Living-003 Southern-Living-004 Southern-Living-005 Southern-Living-006 Southern-Living-007 Southern-Living-008 Southern-Living-009 Southern-Living-010 Southern-Living-011 Southern-Living-012 Southern-Living-013a Southern-Living-013b Southern-Living-013c Southern-Living-013d Southern-Living-014a Southern-Living-014b Southern-Living-014c Southern-Living-015 Southern-Living-022a Southern-Living-022b Southern-Living-023 Southern-Living-024 Southern-Living-025 Southern-Living-026 Southern-Living-027 Southern-Living-028