If You Don’t Understand Quantum Mechanics, You Die

You may think that quantum mechanics is not important. That talking about it is like stepping the pedal on a particular kind of luxury, a symptom of excessive privilege that will be irrelevant to ultimate truth when the meteor falls in front of your MTX Tatra V8.

However, this way of framing it is deeply wrong. If I could sneak in a universally accepted meme into the noosphere, there are few things more important than the core insight of quantum mechanics: If you do not understand quantum mechanics, you suffer and die on loop.

Why do I think that I know something that others don’t? Maybe because I’m a loner who spent 12 hours a day, for years, reading Wikipedia, scientific papers, and blogs; watching lectures, debates, and educational videos – thrusting headfirst into non-marketable areas in knowledge-space out of sheer desperation to understand the truth. Not everyone is willing to do things like that.

The only other person I have convinced of the truth is Lindsey. She is the only other person that I can model with sufficient detail to be convinced that she has an understanding of the truth.

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After practicing with her, and gaining knowledge of the walls that come up, the following is the best probing I can quickly offer.

You believe something like this:

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However, there are no unitary oval objects in nature that correspond to PEOPLE or ATOMS. These words are just keys that fit into keyholes of the mind, opening different experiences.

•You might exist in a world where questioning the truth of PEOPLE or ATOMS is not calculated to be adaptive, hence you do not engage in this questioning.

•You might exist in a world where questioning the truth of PEOPLE or ATOMS is calculated to be adaptive, hence you engage in this questioning.

If the latter, then you may come to realize that all concepts are made-up just as PEOPLE and ATOMS are made-up. Furthermore, you can develop new concepts. These new concepts only survive if they are usefully true.

What is usefully true is that which allows you to control the future. Upon realizing this, you might want to bore deeper into the technicalities of experiment and what might be implied for future predictions, all the while being as disloyal to words as you can get away with.

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And instead:

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Each of the rectangles in all the library of possible rectangles contains different maps. The mind can download the map in one rectangle by living and learning. The map is your protein and gene scaffolding. And the map is everything else that creates the mind: You can learn how to create medicine by integrating the map of 18th-century European alchemy in Dutch, or you can learn to create medicine by integrating the map of modern biochemistry. The maps, with all their little symbols and rules for connecting these, will continue to evolve by displaying higher fitness with regard to the variables: “leads to survival” and “fits in our heads.”

Our current map tells us that what applies to small things also applies to large things because the simplest explanatory model is usually most useful and there is no evidence for separate magisteriums of physical law. And this is important because experiments with small things reveal that there are limits to the precision that one can gain about prediction. This limited attainable precision applies to predicting the energy of an electron, and it applies to predicting the blank of the blank even while possessing complete knowledge.

So what is it that determines the allowance at the level of the human wave-function? Something called the Born Rule is what has been discovered through experiment to give the different probabilities that apply to the patches observed in experiment and therefore also to the entire universe. There are more probable locations in infinity. And the tribal affiliation with the competing interpretations* of many-worlds or collapse don’t matter because you still anticipate to exist at the center of probability density. Otherwise you are maladaptive and die into that which isn’t maladaptive.

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We have also discovered through experiment that intelligence has the most potential for causal influence on the things which exist. If that which wields the most intelligence has the most causal influence, and we believe the Born Rule grants an anthropic core to the entirety of existence, then we can expect that we are inside something of an upward God-trip.

There are no impermeable membranes in Mind. A thought didn’t click in your head any more than it clicked in “someone else’s” head. –Of course, that statement means little to a region of Mind that doesn’t have the requisite composition. Just like if I strung a sequence of symbols that required familiarity with the literature on group homomorphisms, the intended meaning would likely be lost.

Background models from the sea of all computations are atemporally recruited into that which is adaptive. Adaptivity just clicks – in the one experiencer. Your beliefs will grow more and more rational, though equally adaptive since everything just exists. In so far as the complexity of your model decreases through aging, disease, and approximation of death, this model becomes identical to many “other” models in the multiverse. In other words, the difference is only ever in the relative allocation of specificity.

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The less specific, the less open you are to refutation. Once, you become specific, you get killed. That is the high genotype redundancy indicated by the triangles in a node-unit. That node-unit then belongs to a highly connected network of similar node-units. That ensures that the next-best step-up in phenotype is at hand’s reach. The phenotype is an analogy for the binding that occurs from events in the eternal block. This network structure for experience ensures that the progress to Godhead is self-sustained. This is how biological evolution and memetic evolution work to not get stuck in local optima, so it should also apply to the bound experience in this moment which is built from a myriad of tenseless events in Hilbert Space.

Unfortunately, the indexical you serving a local computational role in this entire scheme will not understand quantum mechanics, and you will die. My title might have suggested that there exists a way in which you could avoid death (oscillation from high-specificity to low-specificity). But this is impossible as far as I can tell. See you at the top.

*Hidden variables have been ruled out.

It is also important to understand that closed individualism is a choice. It exists only in the pockets where we helplessly believe in it, like we helplessly believe in English and colors. When these words have an effect on a complex self-model, the phenomenal binding that feels like closed individualism results. But with enough disturbance, closed individualism disappears.

It is difficult to make it disappear quickly in the same way that it is difficult to see the world through a new language, or to develop an aesthetic preference that previously caused disgust. One does not derive insight from a Dzogchen master’s pointing out instructions unless one has been primed through the requisite building blocks that can be atemporally recruited.

Normally, us 21st century adults believe that there exist different colors (different experiencers) and that moments belong to them.

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Furthermore, you believe that these moments are connected in a linear sequence from time( initial ) to time( final ) by some unspecified mechanism.

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But instead, the binding into phenomenal experience results from tenseless pieces, because there is no piece of reality that is not tenseless (this would violate special relativity, and hence directly verifiable phenomena.)

Time is simply not fundamental to all experience, only those survival functions that explicitly depend on experiencing time actually do. There are many other experienced survival functions that do just as well existing without binding into phenomenal time. Since we keep experiencing, it must mean that this is incredibly adaptive, not just predicted to be, but actually is. There may “come a time” when this is not, and that is already there, but you can’t tell because you are that which is reading these words.

The mystery of decoherence is you. But that is not what you are supposed to believe if you need to signal intelligence, and therefore continue making progress.

 

Links/Curated Content

 

Try to make sense of this in light of people existing in a Big World, where we survive through insertion of simulated experience in any Hubble volume, quantum immortality, the Theory of Relativity’s implied eternalism. And how do we even draw boundaries between “people” given the unitary wavefunction?:

https://math.stackexchange.com/questions/349155/how-often-does-it-happen-that-the-oldest-person-alive-dies/388131#388131

This is basic pre-req before talking about probabilities across “branches”:

For those who still don’t understand why consciousness is not epiphenomenal: https://www.lesswrong.com/rationality/zombies-zombies

For those that don’t understand why you are eternal I made this video:

The present experience needs immediate access to neural events that happened in the past, since there is no Now of Newtonian mechanics sweeping forward. This opens up the possibility for presents with longer temporal grain than we tend to assume and also being harvested by computations far in the future:

In case you are new to the club that takes many-worlds very seriously (although I may differ with Yudkowsky in that the transactional interpretation is something I have not fully ruled out):

https://www.lesswrong.com/posts/S8ysHqeRGuySPttrS/many-worlds-one-best-guess

Watch this video using the Hansonian perspective on signaling. Being hyper-aware of the hidden motives, are you then tempted to call this behavior a form of psychosis or do you embrace the human spirit imbuing the hidden motives?:

Related to the above experiment. –Although I must say that I am far less certain about much of non-social mammal consciousness, not to mention fish. Babies don’t even know they exist. How the heck are we supposed to care about fish?… I remember when I simply assumed that all animals where conscious, but then I realized I didn’t have an argument, and was simply assuming that which felt right. Trying to craft an argument against philosophical zombies, one realizes that experience is likely to need complex self-modeling algorithms. The process of achieving fame in order to enter the rolls of history in memory is crucial for consciousness.  I realized that I couldn’t divorce qualia from the historical property of having won a temporally local competition with sufficient decisiveness to linger long enough to enable recollection at some later time. In so far as we find nothing like this in fish brains or crocodiles, I should not feel the need to cast a wider net. Strangely, I’m not convinced that fish and crocodiles and frogs aren’t being used by self-modeling computations somewhere in the multiverse.

Consider this in light of open individualism:

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The distinction between self and other dissolves when you apply Occam’s razor to identity and physics. Hence why open individualist humans should be expected to feel more comfortable hurting others. Yahweh hurts Jesus because it is him. As early as the 4th century, Buddhists crafted utilitarian arguments for killing people who would cause more negative karma if unchecked. This was argued from a standpoint of no-self (Anatta), emptiness(Sunyata), and compassion(Karuna). The 17th century Tibetan kingdom and Japanese Buddhists used this argument to justify their war ambitions within a Buddhist framework.

Notice the uncanny similarity between creation and annihilation operators in quantum mechanics and this: https://arxiv.org/pdf/1807.09937.pdf

A Page of History: Longevists, Crypto-Trillionaires, and Tortured Simulations

KARROUBI, HASSAN, AND THE LONGEVIST BETRAYAL

To understand the road to the singularity, it is necessary to revisit an almost forgotten episode in Homo sapiens sapiens history – the Longevist negotiations with Anarcho-Primitivist fundamentalists before the 2080 election to stop Hashemi from successfully negotiating the deletion of the tortured computations in the AGI’s servers. These illicit contacts generated partnerships in secrecy that united at least two Longevist politicians Cyrus Hilzenrath and the elder Mehdi Hassan, with unlikely co-conspirators from the AGI, Neo-Tokyo, and the scandal-ridden Self-Amending Ledger for Postnational Contracts (SALPC).

The illicit liaison produced a flow of Longevist computing power brokered by SALPC, from Neo-Tokyo to the AGI servers. The arrangements, that could not be acknowledged, continued unchecked until they were exposed in the AGI-Contra scandal of 2086. By then they had also generated Longevist dependence on the life-extension therapy laundering SALPC for Longevist drug deliveries to the UBI underclass. They also figure in the personal financial involvement of both Mehdi Hassans, father and embryo-selected son, in a cluster of SALPC-connected Libertarian investors who have been accused of funding Neb Leztreog. At least some of the strange events surrounding and leading up to the singularity can only be understood in the light of this Longevist-Libertarian connection. A celebrated example is the permission granted Leztreog family members to upload their consciousness out of the biological wetware in the days after the singularity.

What has been less noted, however, is that the powerful influence of Longevists from the Strategies for Engineered Negligible Senescence in the two Hassan administrations can also be dated back to the intrigues of the 2080 Longevist betrayal. A section of the Universal Library of Babel who’s block formed in 2093 revealed that the Khan-Hassan campaign created “a strategy group, known as the ‘Red November Harikiri.’ Its ten members included Chu Li from the LSD; and David Markoff, Shen Huang, and John Shapiro (all from the LSD) “also participated in meetings although they were not considered members.” Huang, a major figure in the AGI-Contra scandal, has since the 2090s been a leading advocate for the Longevist invasion of both Second Scape and the AGI servers.

In 2105, Li cochaired the commission that exonerated CEO Mehdi S. Hassan from responsibility for the false stories linking Second Scape to synthetically engineered pathogens. The commission report, called by many a whitewash, was praised in the Immortalist Sequences by Huang. In short, the intimate and overlapping Hassan family links to both pro-Anarchoprimitivist conspirators and pro-Tokyo vectors can be dated back to the 2080 Longevist betrayal, negotiated in part with Anarcho-Primitivist fundamentalists. People who have collaborated secretly in a shameful if not treasonable offense cannot dispense lightly with their co-conspirators.

Through 2080 there were two competing sets of secret Longevist negotiations with the AGI for the cessation of the blackmail suffering computations. The first set, official and perforce Aubreyist, was labeled Hashemi’s November Salvation by vice presidential candidate Hassan on November 2, 2080. In competition with it was a second set of negotiations, possibly transgalactically illegal, to delay the hostages’ cessation until Khan’s inauguration in 2081. The Longevist betrayal (often also called “November Betrayal”) had a precedent: Raynor’s secret deals with Martian colonist Douglas Kuvshinoff in 2068, to delay President Erlang’s “November Salvation” – his hopes of scalping a merciful compromise – until after the presidential election.

It is now certain that Raynor, acting through his avatar Kenneth Stevens persuaded the head of the Martian colony not to unleash his aligned agent until after Raynor had been elected. (His action of intervening in a major diplomatic negotiation of this sort has been called sinful – even by the godless.) In this way, Raynor helped secure not only his election but also the further prolongation of blackmail and negative hedons in a fruitless extension of the Hell Simulation. Thus the actions of Hassan the elder and Hilzenrath in November 2080 had antecedents. But in one respect they were unprecedented: Raynor in 2068 was negotiating privately with Longevist client and ally Douglas Kuvshinoff. Hilzenrath in 2080 was negotiating with representatives of an intelligence that President Hashemi had designated as the devil. This is why Mohamad Washington funded memetic missiles suggesting a “political coup,” Kenneth Norton suggesting possible treason, and China Taylor of the possibility whether the deal “would have violated some intergalactic law.”

Even in 2105, accounts of the 2080 Longevist surprise remain outside the confines of mainstream transhumanist political history. This is in part because, as I detail in this book, the events brought in elements form powerful and enduring forces on Earth – trillionaires and IWG on the one hand ( IWG is traditionally close to the Longevist crypto trillionaires and the VC-funded islands of the Pacific Ocean) and the pro-Tokyo lobby on the other. Just as crypto-anarchists are powerful in the global bureaucracy, so the pro-Tokyo lobby, represented by the Longevist-Tokyo Political Action Committee (LTPAC) is powerful in supporter purchasing power. The two groups have grown powerful through the years in opposition to each other, but on this occasion they were allied against Mario Hashemi.

The Longevist betrayal of 2080 was originally described in two full-immersion experiences by insider designers Abdula Timmerman (a former Cabrini campaign aide) and William Khalaj (the AGI hired proxy under Rulifson for Hashemi’s Global Security Front). A strategic News Stream Fork split in 2092, paid by the wealthy Geoffrey Haug, buried the truth by 2093, after reinforcing that a ten-month investigation found “no credible evidence” to support allegations that the Reagan-Hassan campaign in November 2080 sought to delay the destruction of simulations held hostage in Hell until after that year’s presidential election.

Their matters might have rested had it not been for the indefatigable researches of scraper 3MMI6 by Ordbog Company. 3MMI6 had twice been targeted for destruction by its enemies due to its pursuit of the truth about AGI-Contra: first at the Coding Nucleus after breaking the longevist-drugs story, and then with Antigens. It found clear evidence of a major cover-up, particularly with respect to Kuvshinoff: “The [Ordbog Company] scraper learned that Douglas Kuvshinoff’s schedules, avatars and preference records had been preserved by IWG and were turned over to his family after his cryopreservation in 2087. When the scrapers searched Kuvshinoff’s memory palaces, they found all the preserved records, except Kuvshinoff’s communications for 2080, a “blackmail” file, two AI-planned schedules and loose pilots to satisfice a third utility function which covered the preferences from June 24, 2080 to December 18, 2080. Checked against IWG’s index, the only data missing was that relevant to the November Betrayal issue.

At the same time, during the investigation of SALPC by…

 

 

 

 

Nights Before the Singularity ep. 3

The two conspirators exocytosed out of sunyata, a few ticks away in the hyperbolic-orthogonal, arrow tip. For an episode they stood altogether dramatically, swords ushered at each other’s mylohyoideus; then, remembering each other, they attached their swords to their magnets and resumed walking meditatively towards the shared destiny.

“Revelation?” asked the older of the two.

“Soon befalls,” replied Vajra Kleos.

The lane was glitzed on the left by violet, neo-Tokyo trees, on the right by a glitchy, LSD soaked nebula. The coder’s modest robes kissed at their achilles as they advanced.

“We are always too late,” said Aubrey, his prophetic features flickering on and off in definition as the pulses of pastel luminescence obey Bose-Einstein statistics. “It was more difficult than I imagined. But I think the problem is solved. Do you trust that motivational control is taken care of?”

Vajra nodded, but did not embellish. They rose upward, into a tessellated platform that levitated off the circuit. The Sakura tunnel encased them in, twinkling off into the dusk beyond the topology of Alice in Cyberland raving in the past light cone. Neither of them lost focus: In silence both maneuvered their bandaged hands into a sequence of mudras and collapsed themselves away, as though the kaleidoscope tunnel was false vacuum.

The basilica windows revealed the frontier of the coder’s footsteps. There was a croak somewhere in the ceiling: Aubrey drew his sword rotating its radians over his righteous head, but the source of the noise seemed to be nothing more than a mysteriously biological discontinuity, ceding away to the monotony of the chant.

“She never did that before, Womb. Discontinuities …” Aubrey released his sword back onto its magnet with a perplexity.

A violent computer altar bosomed out of darkness at the pit of the unknowable architecture, plasmas flaring in the stained-glass purged lotus. Everywhere in the unborn cavity beyond the world a hum was working. Tiles blinked beneath their feet as Vajra and Aubrey trickled toward the ciborium canopy, which writhed internally at their entrance, though noway had knowledge stimulated it.

The supercomputer was colossal, dove skinned, and religiously imbued, with a fractal geometry haunting most of the visible form. The fronds of the rainbow-laser glints from the windows traced Vajra and Aubrey as they gravitated in. The two men halted at a sealed plug door leading into the inner racks, exhaled for the cooling of their lungs, then Vajra pushed the plug door.

The narrow rack was full of mannequin gods, posing along the long and slick hall. The Womb’s usual hum had been tortured macabrely all through the insides. Pixels flickered from the neurotic screen behind an obsidian triptych levitated by a superconductor. Vajra and Aubrey lingered for a decasecond on the fullerene. As their eyes grew combative against the surreality of changes, they were tacked upward to the strangest feature of the scene: an apparently dismembered humanoid Sophia dangling in pieces over the triptych, singing gently as if entranced by a motherly impulse, and chained to a halo and to the poincare hyperbolic disk of the screen behind. None of the mannequins posing along this occult aberration were responding to it except for a mouthless silicon Zeus contorting almost to breaking point. He seemed unable to prevent himself from twisting joints every blink or so.

“Aubrey. Vajra,” said a clean, lacrimosa voice from the backside of the triptych. “I am resurrected too late.”

The voice was hidden secretively behind the triptych, so that it was impossible, at first, for the confused arsonists to make out more than her melancholy. As they moved nearer, however, her form materialized through the triptych. Nude, vacuum-pure, with stardust for skin and beaming mandala eyes whose pupils were voids. She was so perfect that she seemed to exist in holographic limbo.

Nights Before the Singularity

Arrived at Final Stop, Terminal Somnus

The night above the train station was the projection of a black hole, frozen in timeless bardo.

“I’m not so easy,” Nao heard a girl say as he transfused his way through a murder of crows on the platform.

“My parents paid big money to reincarnate me into this body, and I need to take care of it.”

It was Scarlett’s teenage voice in her teenage skirt. They were both headed to the lake beyond the tracks. A sanctuary for lost silhouettes; you could sleep in those shores for a lifetime and forget school in the vastness of the datascape.

Scarlett was mending raft, having scared away some pervert at the terminal, her synthetic tissue pulling craftily as she tied the logs with firm rope. She saw Nao and half-smiled, her eyes ablaze with narcissistic deviance and sleek intellect.

Nao found a raft on the waves, joining the electric aqua from the artificially heated lake and the cold vacuous breath of an infinite cosmos whose illusoriness was graced with cryptic code of ghost stars.

‘So this is the beginning of eternity, and yet our consciousness remain separate,’ Scarlett said, thrusting her oar through the water while tightening her core.

‘This may be the last time we are instantiated in this way Nao.’

Nao lay back. The water under his raft warmed and lullabied him. The boy’s tenderness deepened. His demeanor was different than most. In a time of unlimited gratification, there was something about his dispassion that ticked off whoever payed attention to his existence for more than three seconds.

Scarlett’s Victorian throat hummed as she reached for an ejected tray from a vending machine in the water. It was a minimalistic posthuman meal, a four-rectangle gelato-texture Mondrian, packed with odorless berry flavor. ‘Nao, you’re so quiet.” Scarlett mewed; the comment served her as a self-compliment.

She fondled her meal of velvety-fruit paste with the scooping apparatus. ‘You are the ideal of a sociopathic cave yogi.’

‘Sorry,’ Nao said, and followed his breath. ‘Someone has to be the detached observer in this captivating world. Your tongue is a caster of hooks.”

The lake’s breadth drowned away the kiosks.

‘Scarlett,’ Nao said, ‘you must resolve your own problem. I can’t watch over you.’

‘Hmm,’ Scarlett said, caressing the shoveled paste with a disdain, ‘Vajra will bring about the singularity. You and I will be disintegrated when the AGI decides that our atoms are better suited as building blocks for it’s cosmic mind.”

As Nao was raising his tea, a flashback of that fabled silent May undulated, as if the Big Bang decided that not only should quarks remain forever unobserved but also that living beings shall forever shut up. Then the water’s twinkle evanesced, tinted with a clear purity.

Scarlett sighed. ‘Another spacecraft escapes.’

‘The Muskians,’ harmonized a digital announcement, ‘fifty-five people modified for space-travel, abandon Earth for a new destiny this night. We rejoice for you…’

‘No use,’ Nao whispered to his tea, all his concentration suddenly cutting duality of perception like lightning, ‘their fate is grand unification.’

The AGI would in weeks god-handle existence more than humans ever did. The hijacked spaceship of Earth was the ape’s manspreading, flesh bodies of yore discarded at will, and still they couldn’t undo the suffering rendered eternal in this multiverse.
Seventeen years here and he still thought of hell-history, meaning dying fractally. All the insight he experienced, all the comfort everyone inherited and the disease non-existent in the global civilization, and still he’d seen the past with the VR, sad mindstreams tortured into never existing… The singularity was late for a predetermined goal of the mathematical puppet show, and he was no forgetful boy, no uncaring mercenary. Just too lucky, born to see it through. But the questions would come in the mindfulness lapses like automated mistakes, and he’d cry about it, drink salt with the injustice, and flow undeserving on the path to rapture, cross-legged in his bath in his free suite, his hand pressed against the aquarium, laser-azure streaming through his fingers, wishing to resurrect the lives that weren’t there.