The Lesson of Science

We used to think that the Sun revolved around the Earth, and we used to think that Zeus aimed the thunderbolts, and we used to think that God made the Universe and Man. What is important is not that we were wrong, but that we were sure. We held these beliefs - and enumerable others, equally wrong - in full confidence and without appeal to evidence. The lesson of Science is not that the Earth circles the Sun, or that lightning is electricity, or that Man evolved from lesser forms. Those are facts of Science, but not the lesson. The lesson of Science is that understanding must be qualified by evidence. The lesson of Science is that statements of the form, "I believe...," require the conjunction, "because." The purpose of Science is not to inform everyone who previously thought plagues the wrath of the supernatural that, in fact, there are such things as micro-organisms beyond the limits of sight. The purpose of Science is not to replace one arbitrary, absolute belief with another, however more correct. The purpose of Science is to teach that understanding must be supported - must be qualified - with repeatable experimentation and falsifiable theory. Science will never decree that, now, at last, we have the final and ultimate explanation of _____. Science will always only discover more evidence and better theories.

What is important is not that we were wrong, because we are still wrong. What is important is that we thought we were right. Now, we know why we hold what beliefs with what confidence - with what evidence - and we continue to seek better knowledge. I think this is a misconception many people have about capital 'S' Science. People assume Science is an authority of the kind to which they are used: the immaculate, supernatural kind. Science is fundamentally difference from religious explanation in that it demands evidence, not belief. Many people, I think, still misunderstand this point and it is important that this be stressed as the lesson, and the wonder, of Science.

Today was a failure.

A complete, total, holistic, uncompromised, perfect failure. Nothing that needed to be done was done and everything needed not to be done was done. Anyone who suggests that we need failures in order to have successes is talking shit out of their ass and is probably a complete failure them self. We need failures in order to feel miserable about ourselves. If nobody ever failed we would all have self-respect, and imagine what kind of world that would be. Hell. It would be absolute hell and I would kill myself before I'd live in it for two minutes. If you're smiling right now, I want you to remember that I am not. Miserable, foolish, slovenly, contemptible failures like me don't smile. We just fail.

DreamInterstate

Several of my dreams in the past months have featured the common image of a colossal elevated freeway system rising hundreds of feet above the ground, with entrance ramps at 30 degree angles, spanning into the horizon like some incredible cross between spaghetti junction and the BQE. The road is featured as a major plot point in some dreams (grandma looses control of the car on a steep entrance ramp as she tries to commit suicide), and functions only as a set piece in others. I'm open to interpretations.

The only thing worse than a beautiful person is a group of beautiful people.

Riddle Me This (in 1200 words)

What's more fun that writing a midterm paper on no sleep? Doing it two days in a row, of course!

My "talent" for the last-minute paper - the only kind I write - is maturing in a disturbing way. My current modus operandi is to begin at 3 am, hand write the whole thing for three or four hours, then sleep for an hour or two. When I wake up I type it out, give one proof-read if I have the time, and email it to the professor by 11am (I don't print things). I did that last night (slash, this morning) and the night/morning before that. The quality of my writing is not so hot, but that is the price of being a level 70 procrastinator. I've been thinking about why I behave like this. The self-righteous answer is that I find personal destruction more interesting than essay-writing. The self-flagellating answer is that I'm a miserable lout who can't do anything right. The answer in the middle is that I'm a smart boy who hates school and just doesn't care anymore. It's all over soon...

To Do or Not To Do

I don't have a newspaper column, but if I did it would be called "In The Knew" and in it I would provide advice to young people. Here is a fictitious entry in my fictitious newspaper column:

In The Knew
Observations for the young and the young at heart
By S.T. Peterson

"To Do or Not To Do"

Dear Friend,

Amid murder and antique language, it is easy for a modern audience (and a modern theater company) to forget about our tragic hero, the Prince of Denmark, that he is a young man. Hamlet is a young man with a young man's question, and like so many young people before and since, he has confused his linking verbs. "Being" is not the sort of thing over which one has agency. Try it sometime. I think you'll find that you already are. The real question our Little Prince invites us to ask is the title of today's column. As so many bumper stickers which have never been printed ought to advertise, "I'll kill myself if it's the last thing I do!"

Today's topic is how to do the things you need to do. I am something of an expert on the matter: I have had to do many things in twenty one years. Some of them important, other not so, some fun, some difficult, but I have approached them all with the same resolution and the same basic method. I generally abhor "3 Easy Steps to Suchandsuch" by Charlatan McFullofit, but I make an exception here for my own, "3 Easy Steps to Doing the Things You Need to Do," because I wrote it, and because it really works! What follows is the basic pattern I have followed whenever faced with something to do, and look at me. I've got a fucking newspaper column!

Step One: Don't do the thing you need to do. This may seem counter-intuitive, until you consider...

Step Two: Consumerism. Instead of doing what you need to do, go buy something. That will probably make you feel better about yourself. If that doesn't work, try...

Step Three: Masturbation.

So there you have it. The three perfect and only steps to doing the things you need to do: don't do it, buy something, and then masturbate. This is how I have faced ever task in my life, great and small, and it hasn't failed me yet. I can only speculate that things would have turned out better for old Hamlet if he'd know the secret. Make wise use of this knowledge yourself and bright things await.

Sincerely and faithfully yours,
S.T. Peterson

The cost of existing

After many years' delay, I am finally reading The Fountainhead. I am also perfecting the vacant expression which is my coping mechanism for the unbearable contempt the book gives me for the world and by "the world" I mean myself.

Life is the cost of existing.

The Body Politik

I've long been passionate about politics, but I've never actually put my money where my mouth is, until now. Yesterday, for the first time, I donated money to a political campaign: $50 to Ron Paul. Just thought I'd let you know.

I have no patience for fools, myself included.

A Million Little Pieces

Two days ago the temperature on my CPU read 170 F. That's waaaaay too hot. I've disassembled my whole machine and cleaned everything out. Now all of the delicate bits are strewn naked on the floor, waiting for the thermal gel and passive heatsink I ordered to arrive. This means I have to use University computers in the meantime. This means no porn. This makes me sad.

Introspection in Review

Conservatory drama programs (such as the one at Julliard) are 8 hours of pure theatrical training, 5 days a week. The NYU drama department splits the difference between conservatory and general education by farming kids out to conservatory studios (which are independent institutions) around the city for three days out of the week, and requiring academic credits to be achieved in the remaining two days. There are seven primary studios. I'm in the best one, naturally.

Of the academic requirements, "Theater Studies" classes have proven most painful for me. Primarily because I have a habit of failing them, but also because of the kinds of discussions they tend to encourage. If you sit in on a standard TS theory class (or at least any of the ones in which I have enrolled), you hear kids make frequent use of words like "every" and "all" and "never" and "no" and almost every discussion ends in a justification for someone's self-righteous definition of "art." Or something. I'm generalizing. Really there was just one class that was actually like that, but ever since then I've become very sensitive to wishy-washy and self-righteous arguments that I tend to see them everywhere.

Last week I had a conversation with my current Theater Studies professor and we discussed, among other things, some of my apprehensions about that kind of thing. Well, my teacher (who is one of my favorite ever) had some extremely reassuring words and expressed an opinion which I find all too rare in the theater world: my own! It was such an energizing and interesting talk that I thought for a brief time that I was, in fact, in love with my teacher. I realized then that it is not my teacher whom I love, but someone else. And that helped me make a decision.

Day of the Sun

Not much sun out to enjoy its day, but it's bright enough to make me sneeze. Why is 3 my maximum number of sneezes? I don't know if I've ever sneezed more than thrice consecutively. Lot's of musicians in the park. A jazz band, a honky-tonk swing duet, some acoustic guitars. Those are just the ones I saw. What if you sneezed while playing a clarinet? I played the clarinet in fifth and sixth grade but I never sneezed while playing. If I had I don't think anyone would have noticed. I wasn't very good. I remember my favorite song to play in 6th grade band was Jupiter from The Planets by Holst. It manage to be simultaneously extremely beautiful and extremely easy to play. Perfect for sixth graders. Well, that's about all. Happy day, Sun.

P.S.
NYU uses iMacs at all of its computer kiosks. Why they don't replace Safari with Firefox is beyond me. Half of Web 2.0 doesn't work in Safari. NYU, fix this!

Today

Today I helps an old woman cross the street and then I sat in the park in the sun and read The Old Man and The Sea.

I've been playing a lot of Team Fortress 2. What do you expect?

A while ago I re-discovered a great video of Christopher Hitchens. I highly recommend you watch it. Following that, I spent about two days consuming all the Hichens YouTube has to offer. I had meant to post about it at the time but I forgot.

Why CD Sales Are Sagging Like My Grandma's Tits

The last CD I "bought" bought was Hot Fuss by The Killers back whenever that came out. Right now I'm working on code that retrieves metadata for CDs (as when you pop in a CD and iTunes knows the album, artist, and track names automatically) and I need a CD with which to test. I don't actually have any CDs with me at school. Who would? Anyway, I go to Virgin to get one. I got the Spring Awakening soundtrack. Do you know how much it cost? $20.58. Do you know how much it costs on iTunes? $9.99. And that is why...

CD Sales Are Sagging Like My Grandma's Tits!

Guess What

Love is the most wonderful thing in the world.

Faiya

I had some nasty shits today and I don't mind telling ya, my chilihole is on faiya!

Mundane with a silent 'n'

• Yesterday was the first day that tasted like fall.


• I'm in a new building this semester which means I have a new running path. It is my favorite so far. The scenery is all very nice and the sidewalks are much wider.


• Classes are going fine.


• I'm doing a new comp-sci project which is loads of fun - writting a fully managed MusicBrainz client library. It's related to and will be used in my SoC project.

They're putting up a Toys 'R Us where Tower Records used to be. Gag me with a cock.

Frai Dei

• Getting to bed as late (aka early) as I did last night, I woke very late today.
• Wasn't up to much.
• Coding,
• eating,
• reading,
• watching,
• other ing-ending words.

I just bought, and am loving, Ta-Dah by Scissor Sisters. I can't imagine many excuses for your not having this album.

Day of the Thurs

What are Thurs, and why have they got their own day? I want a Thur. Get me one for my birthday, OK? Get my two, and then my birthday can be a Thursday.

• I was sadsad because I didn't think I was getting breakfast,
• But then I was haphappy because I did get breakfast.
• There was stuff and things and um...
• Right, then I had a hamburger with Claire and we talked about drug legalization and our careers.
• My 5pm nap got a little out of hand.
• I barely got the gym in time.
• I had dinner.
• Now it's 3 am and I'm not tired because of the monster nap. Good thing no class on Friday.

We hold these penises to be self-evident.

Shirtses

A few months back, a good chunk of my laundry was stolen. I am no stranger to re-wearing cloths, but if I'm to start this school year off on the right foot, I suppose I had better have at least a modest selection of wardrobe. Or so I told myself when I ordered $70 worth of T-Shirts from threadless.com. Hey, they were having a back-to-school special. Anyhoo, the UPS package came today and I am overjoyed. Here, you can judge my taste in T-Shirts:

And here are some closeups with the titles:

A lot of unicorns. I don't know why that is.

UPDATE: These shirts are too small. Damnit!

Thoughts

The human intellect has lately been on my mind (pardon the recursion) and I'd like to share my thoughts.

Most of us isn't anything to write home about. We can see, but just a little bit of the spectrum. We can kind of hear, though not nearly as well as a lot of other mammals. And I believe we have a sense of smell, but, as I understand it, only on a technicality. Thinking is where it's at for us. Now don't get me wrong: I think we think great. Clearly it's gotten us places and I'm certainly not knocking human intellect. But it does seem to me we're too proud by half of our minds.

Intelligence was seen for many eons as our divine ingredient. While most educated people today don't believe that the all-powerful and perfect Creator Of the Universe has an appendix or a pair of thumbs, many still fancy that His mind was the image after which ours were created. Recently, Deism, mumbo jumbo, and certain interpretations of Spinoza have supposed an "Intelligence" to the "Universe" which, we are meant to believe, is of a like kind to our own (though infinitely greater in size and power). More recently still, science fiction writes of man-like intelligences belonging to gods, universes, and the beasts of alien worlds. It is generally our way in religion, mumbo jumbo, and fiction to paint "intelligence" as a Platonic Form apart from the rest of human anatomy. It is the perfect and only means of Really Getting Shit Done and it's available to worthy Gods, aliens, machines and men.

I've been thinking that's rather not the case at all. I've been thinking our intelligence is rather just as novel and particular as anything else about us. Thumbs, for example. Thumbs suit us fine, but they are by no means the pinnacle of grasping engineering. We have prehensile thumbs because, aside from other reasons, we started to walk on our feet and this allowed the lateral digit to drift proximally. The thumb is both novel in that it is not a priori an obvious thing to have, and it is particular in that it is entirely a function of our evolution. "Thumbs" are no great or ideal means of pinching. We would not expect to find them on an extraterrestrial or a universal creator, or indeed The Universe itself.

I submit that the mammalian intellect is both novel and particular in the same ways as the thumb. There is nothing obvious about the way our intellects are, and they are not the best design for the problem. To be clear, I am not referring only to the details of our minds, such as our capacities of memory or the way in which we process vision or the methods by which people go about reasoning. I mean all of our most fundamental functions - consciousness, memory, self-awareness, cognition, imagination, all of it - are just as novel and particular as the rest of us. Should we meet things from other worlds, we would be as likely to discover anything we would call an "intelligence" as we would be to discover anything remotely like a "thumb," or "appendix," or "prefrontal neocortex." This is not to say that these other beings would not be very complex and possibly capable of feats far in advance of our own. Space travel, time travel, anything you care to speculate. All achieved with systems wholly unlike the mammalian intellect.

I am personally of the opinion that we will meet many such strange systems, and sooner rather than later. Not in the stars of course. We will create them ourselves in silicon. Or our silicon children will create them for us. We might never know what "thought" is like for those machines, if they even experience any such sensation. But they will surpass all human benchmarks of acumen. They will be smarter than all of us put together. If it's fare to call them "smart," then they will be the smartest things ever. I am quite sure.

You know, you should really read Jeff Hawkins' book, On Intelligence.

If music be the food of love, then I ought to be fat

As you may know, I've been working this summer to bring a Linux music application to Windows. Things are almost done and you, dear reader, will have the express pleasure of trying it yourself very soon. Consider it a Karmatic reward for your suffering under Windows.

Things going so well as they are, I'm powerful excited and thinking a treat is in order. I've awarded myself a little music from iTunes:

Classics by Ratatat. For those who are into esoteric techno/instrumental. Check out Lex.

La Donna by the East Village Opera Company. A blend of opera, rock, metal, funk, techno, salsa, and awesomeness. Straight up my ally. I have long enjoyed their self-titled album and I highly recommend you get the first track from that (Overture Redux). From La Donna, I recommend La Danza for starters, especially if you sang Italian arias in high school ;)