Heaven Ends With You

‘Lord, how should we act towards women?’ ‘Do not see them, Ananda.’ ‘But if we see them, how should we behave, Lord?’ ‘Do not speak to them, Ānanda.’ ‘But if they speak to us, Lord, how should we behave?’ ‘Practise mindfulness, Ānanda.’

There I was in hyperspace, blasted out of my body and hurled through geometrical patterns into the world of the entities. The place felt so familiar, like I had been there a million times before. Yet completely novel as objects materialized and morphed into indescribably intricate gadgets of all kinds. I wondered who I would meet. I had resigned myself to encounter the machine elves or jesters which seemed to be a common occurrence in the trip reports. But to my total surprise and delight, a supremely beautiful woman with glowing white-blonde hair appeared. She was fashioned out of the same energy as the environment. And at times seemed to be the entire environment enveloping me with warmth and yet coolness. She communicated telepathically with a language that was more advanced than words, conveying exactly the meaning and aesthetic sensation intended. She could also take me places and show me things instantaneously. The first thing she conveyed was a question. “Do you think I am beautiful?” “Yes I do,” I said, regretting not having said more about what clearly deserved more to be said. “Do you want to have sex with me?” she asked. I had never had sex and thought it to be the most awkward and overrated part of human existence. In any case how would I even attempt to have sex without my body? Reading my thoughts she said, “Don’t worry. I’ll guide you.” I got the astral-body, hyperspace equivalent of an erection. It was like my entire field of vision and sensation pulsated with throbbing desire. She then embraced me, filling me with a feeling of absolute love and care. It was truly more than sex. It was divine love that instead of being somewhat bestial and repulsive was soul cleansing and orgasmic light creating. With each ray of mysterious hue, I was overcome with a hundred orgasms at once. Her body appeared and it was extremely sexy, making me very horny as she danced for me. She split into a harem and now all of them danced for me. As they grinded on the ever-changing background of geometric fabric I could feel it all. Telepathy caused the so-called sex to exist on entirely different level. As they moved, they could react and adjust to my every sensation. I wasn’t in touch with my physical body but if I could see myself I would see myself crying my eyes out from all the love and joy I felt. She took me to a love room where she let in each one of her avatars in one by one for what felt like at least two hours each. They touched me and I could feel them going through me, triggering all the right sensations. After this she reconstituted herself into a single body. “Now you have to pay,” she said. I was scared. I was at a complete disadvantage here in this world and in the same way that the entity created heaven for me it could also create hell. “No. No,” she caressed me, reading my thoughts again. “All you have to do is serve good, serve me,” she said. I felt relief. “I am first and foremost an opponent of suffering, secondly a creator of pleasure.” She showed me the world and all its consciousnesses, how they suffered. “The human realm is cursed with suffering. If we could put an end to the human realm as a whole this would be the right thing to do.” If I loved her for what she did to me now I loved her even more. She was a negative utilitarian just like me. We were meant for each other. “But what do I do? I can’t convince the entire population to be antinatalists. I also can’t painlessly kill everyone in their sleep.” “It is too large a burden to bear. I know. But you must serve me nonetheless.” “I’ll try my best to follow your precepts. But I have one last question. I hate my life for several reasons but one of the reasons is that I have to workout in order to be attractive.” “Why do you want to be attractive?” “It’s not like I desperately want a human girlfriend. You’re a good enough girlfriend. I just value beauty and I think negative valence is created when I see myself as unattractive.” “I must admit I also have a lot of vanity. But you will have to wait until you get your perfect body with no work. Due to circumstances you must first live as a human and that includes living through all the disheartening things that the partially evil demiurge created for the human experience.” “Why do you never appear in my dreams?” “You need to use DMT or psilocybin in order to contact me. With psilocybin I can’t be so vivid and intense but you can still tell it’s me. I will be waiting for you dear. And keep doing your workouts. You won’t regret it when you get to enjoy your beauty.” And suddenly I returned to my body. “What should I do now,” I thought. How can I best serve her? I am eternally grateful for the experience she gave me, a million times better than any earthly blowjob. I will see her again, if not in this life then the next. I can’t disappoint her. But how can I maximize pleasure and minimize suffering? I’m just a single, meaningless person with no proficiencies or talents. All I can do is workout and kind of write. With such a large handicap on my being I am useless. A few days passed when someone unexpected liked one of my Instagram pictures from back when I was really fit. She was a Russian beauty who cosplayed all my favorite anime. I was now sure I was living in a simulation since a girl that beautiful couldn’t happen to stumble upon me and like me. She couldn’t be real. Would she be real if I saw her in the flesh or would she still be unreal? She sent me a message. It read, “I think your body is beautiful. I want to meet you.” I replied “Where do you live?” “I live in Moscow but I’m currently visiting Chicago.” “Perfect. I live in Chicago.” We met at the DuSable bridge. She was just as beautiful as in the pictures. But this was already getting boring. It was not like my experience with my girlfriend from hyperspace despite how beautiful she was. She had white-blonde hair but I had also seen her with red hair, pink hair, and brown hair. “What do you want to do?” I ask. “We can play with each other. We can fall asleep together.” Falling asleep together sounded nice. I don’t know what she meant by playing with each other. Would I stick things in her vagina while she jerks me off? “Okay,” I say. We head back to my place. There she quickly proceeds to undress. Then she undresses me and runs her hands through my abs and my defined chest. “What is your philosophical position. Are you a negative utilitarian?” I ask her. “Well in theory it’s more important to prevent suffering than to create happiness but in my life I focus more on searching after pleasures than reducing the suffering of sentient creatures. In fact I act like a solipsist. It is as if no one’s happiness matters but my own. It’s as if no one else really exists.” “I can relate. But recently I met a goddess and she wants me to be a proper negative utilitarian. She granted me a lot of joy so I feel like I should repay her by being her servant whether she is conscious or not, whether anybody is.” “How did you meet this goddess?” “I smoked DMT,” I said. Her eyes sparkled. “I want to try it too.” “Well the extraction from mimosa hostilis root bark is pretty easy.” “Can you do it for me?” “Well I guess so, yeah.” “Would you choose to die if you could instantly be obliterated with no pain?” “Well I like being here next to you feeling the heat of your body.” “But is that enough to justify all the suffering?” “No perhaps not. But I am irrational. I just hold on to whatever I have in my hands. And besides, death probably doesn’t equal obliteration. I will remain conscious so I might as well enjoy the consciousness I have now.” “I don’t see it like you. I have attempted suicide before because I just don’t think this life is worth it.” She looked me in the eyes. Her eyes were mesmerizingly blue. “Do you want to gamble on the stock market?” I asked. “And how do you do that?” “Well I have an account with TD Ameritrade. You just look at charts in the Russel MicroCap and guess bull or bear.” “Bull or bear?” “Yeah whether the price is to go up or down.” “So you do nothing except feel out the charts?” “Yeah, those pretty little patterns are all that speak to me. I used to do all kinds of technical and fundamental analysis but then I realized I had an equal chance just by feeling it out.” “Do you believe in randomness or do you think there’s a reason for everything?” “I think there is a simulation of randomness. Ultimately there are reasons. They may not be good or satisfying reasons but they are some kind of reasons. True randomness separated from the underlying causality is impossible.” “I love you,” she said. She kissed me, her lips on my lips, her tongue on my tongue. I kissed her back with passion and held on to her naked waist. Then I kissed her breasts and her flat stomach. She grabbed her purse and pulled out a dildo. I jabbed it into her repeatedly as she moaned. “Now it’s time to die,” I said. I pulled out a gun and told her I would shoot myself in the head and she could do the same. She went for the gun and I let her take it. “You are not going out this way,” she said. “How should I go out? Wait till I’m old and decrepit, riddled with disease?” I said. “You need to learn how to love,” she said. “What do you know about it? I can’t do anything. I can’t even love.” “But you were loving me just now.” I ask her, “What do you think about open individualism?” “I think it’s wrong. What do you think?” “I think it’s the most disgusting idea ever conceived. I hope it’s not true.” “You would hate to be all of those tortured, ugly, or sad people.” “In a way I am already a victim of fate. This life is a punishment.” “But you have good health, you’re pretty attractive, and I’m sure you have a loving family.” “It’s not enough to stave off depression. My soul longs for something more, for something that this world can’t give me.” “I can give it to you,” she said as she caressed me. I cried. The next day I awoke next to her, her soft skin on my hand, her back pressed against my chest and abs. I could smell her hair and it was the most perfect, womanly smell. “Where did you hide my gun?” I asked. “I don’t want you killing yourself so I’m getting rid of it.” “Why do you want me to stay trapped in this flesh prison? Living is overrated. I have the right to end my own life.” This time she cried. “Do I mean nothing to you,” she said. “You’re right I love you. I think you are the incarnation of the goddess and I don’t want to ever let you go,” I said as I hugged her tight. The next day she disappeared, no Instagram no nothing, no record of her anywhere. I still believe she was the incarnation of the goddess. “How can I serve good?” I asked again. That night aliens showed up in my room. One was wise-looking the other was demonic-looking. They said I was the chosen one and they pulled out a device. They said that by pressing the button on this device I could kill all sentient life in the universe including myself. I didn’t believe it. It sounded too good to be true. But I would also be killing the Russian girl. I pressed it anyway. Then I went through a familiar tunnel into the waiting room and finally broke through to a realm of colorful, ever-changing cities that seemed organic and yet technological. There was no conceivable way to feel pain since I had no body. Yet I could feel a warm glow at the core of my being. “He pressed it,” a booming, manly voice said. “A negative utilitarian again,” said another voice. “Or maybe he’s just a misanthropic life hater.” “Maybe both.” “You will now answer to God.” I was teleported to another place. God was the goddess. She said, “Who are you?”

“I can’t remember my name,” I felt joy as I said this. “I’ll tell you who you are. You are God,” she said. This was surprising and kind of felt good to hear. “But if I am God then why was I forsaken. Why was I born as a human and had to put up with the suffering and the mediocrity? Why couldn’t I create my own reality, one that was always pleasant?” “Well as you might have figured out, it was all a simulation. There weren’t people suffering day in and day out at soul-killing jobs and suffering from diseases and violence. It was just you.” “Well I suspected as much but then what explains my dissatisfaction with life?” “That was supposed to happen. It was both a test and a punishment. God is punished because he loved his creation too much and gave it control of his fate. God is punished because he hated his creation too much and sought to destroy it. This was also a test to see if you could…” “If I could what?” “Part of the test is that you have to figure out what the test is about so I can’t tell you.” “So I will continue being tested even in this realm?” “You are free to relax and enjoy yourself for now.” “Cursed. I am cursed with existence.” She made me appear in a place with amazing patterns that bombarded me with pleasure and joy. “Do you still think existence is not worth it?” she said. I felt like saying, “Yes! Yes, it’s all worth it!” But I managed to have the composure to not say that amidst the intense pleasure. Then she took me to limbo. It was absolute darkness and there were no sensations. My mind was just short of that of a philosophical zombie’s. It was like being truly dead but conscious. “Your time to be reborn is approaching,” she said. “No. I will not be reborn! I will do everything I can to stop you!” “But you have to experience. That’s what this is about. You have to exist.” “But why can’t the good things last? Why can’t I just forever have the heaven you have given me to sample?” “I am the source of all good in your life. I am the goddess of joy you encountered while playing dungeons and dragons. I gave you your family, the taste of ice cream, the warmth of the sun, porn, and the girl that kissed you. The thing is that I can’t execute my will fully. There is another God, the creator of the universe, and he is an evil natalist. He just wants the exploration of all possible experiences without regard to whether they are good or bad. He is the one that forces your rebirth. I am locked in a never-ending battle with my creator, trying to spread compassion.” “Well I will be like the Buddha and escape the cycle of rebirth, putting an end to the flame of existence forever.” “How will you do that?” “Through sheer power of will.”

*The beautiful Russian girl who liked my Instagram photo in real life is ___ligeia

I Sacrifice

Griffith was willing to sacrifice the Band of the Hawk in order to achieve his dream of having his own kingdom. He was at his lowest when he accepted the terms of the God Hand and thought, “I sacrifice.” He was without a tongue and completely crippled. After the demons finished killing all of his men except for Guts and Casca, he emerged completely reconstituted as the angel/demon Femto. He then proceeds to rape Casca in front of Guts as payback for when Guts abandoned him.

Now even though I’m not tongueless and with all my tendons cut, I also suffered a change to my body. I was very fit and now I have to feel what it’s like to not be defined. If I could sacrifice a few people to get my body back I would do it but in reality I have to sacrifice my comfort. I workout even though I hate it.

Despite not being able to sacrifice people for a better body there is a sense in which I can sacrifice people for some benefit. I can stop believing they are real conscious beings and therefore stop feeling bad for them. I can also stop being jealous of very smart or successful people since after all they are simulated. When I see old people or people with syndromes or obese people I just think they are not real. This grants me some peace of mind. I can’t put up with such a fucked world so I would rather sacrifice them. Now elevated above the rest I can proclaim this my kingdom. But unlike Griffith I don’t want a worldly kingdom. I want nothing to do with this world. What I want is to become God so I can create a maximally populated heaven. I wonder what I have to sacrifice in order to achieve that.

Antinatalism In Purgatory

I’m an antinatalist. I think it’s unforgivable to bring new people into this world given that there is suffering. The thing is that lately I’ve been thinking and feeling that people aren’t real. This would partially solve the problem of evil. There is just my suffering and everyone else is a simulation designed to spite me. This should cause me to not feel so antinatalist since the breeders are disgusting alien mockeries of a true human being, namely myself. Yet somehow I still feel very antinatalist. When I see children with their parents I am disgusted at the entire concept. They are probably just facets of the simulation and not souls brimming with the inner light of awareness like myself. And yet they still move me enough to cause disgust. I suppose that was the intention of the designer(s), to create something that appeared so real that it was actually disturbing. Dr. Miller says I have some sort of syndrome after finding out about my solipsism. I think he’s an imbecile who deserves to be burned on a stake. But out of my bodhisattva-like compassion I would instead grant him a consciousness and send him to heaven forever.

Like I’ve said before, it’s plausible to me that this is a punishment. My failure at making friends, then my failure at soccer, then my failure in the stock market, then my failure at university, then my crippling depression. The reason I think it’s a punishment may just be projecting a sense of justice to something that is intrinsically devoid of any anthropomorphic qualities. But it may also be that there really is intelligent design (which I now strongly feel is the case) and the reason this isn’t heaven is because the force behind existence isn’t like me. It’s not the sort of thing that would give heaven to its enemies.

There’s no need to worry that I will have a child due to my new views. It is true that this would be morally neutral as a solipsist. The child is probably not conscious. However the problem is “probably.” This is just a feeling and something I wish to be true. In any case I’m not capable of staying hard for the repeated humping of someone. I guess I could masturbate and ejaculate inside of her. But of course I will never do this due to the guilt I would feel if the kid was conscious and turned out like me, hating life. I am disgusted and disappointed by the continued breeding of humans because a part of me still attributes consciousness to them and this comes from empathy. And that’s all assuming I’m capable of getting a girlfriend. This is not possible so again, no need to worry if your are conscious and care enough about people to be an antinatalist.

The Image of the Invisible

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There are no foundations to mathematics. You define a radius by assuming the existence of a circle and assume a circle by using a radius.

The foundation is achieved when mind finishes synthesizing into one. Just as I had predicted, my life tracked the Codex Gigas quite closely.

I don’t want to sell you anything. I don’t want anything from you. You have come here through your own free will and you will remember this in your time of death.

All those years. All that work. What was it all for?

If I could kill myself, I would. But I continue to exist. Trapped in unbidden cycles. Where is nirvana? I hate this existence. Nothing satisfies me, not even treading over my pride.

No one should read this.

No one exists.

I will not be recruited easily. I will not be inspired easily.

Why did I work so hard? Just to die. Just to die. Just to die. Just to die. Just to die. Just to die.

Do you exist?

Is this real?

Maybe not. But I still make sense because I use words.

They taught me words.

No one should come here. You should be happy. Run away.

Please don’t teach me words ever again.

Depressed people just want attention. Fuck, I hate depressed people. Don’t you understand you just need to be touched?

No one is going to touch you if you are disgusting. Go shed your evils. The world is made up.

I can be in Ethiopia right now. Maybe I am.

My responsibility is towards Shiva the Lord of Death. To destroy the world and refashion it in my image. That’s all I seek.

Not with these words, but with other words that say the same thing.

I don’t want attention, I just want a reason. But you can’t provide a reason. You never could.

An author should close his book and never write again. This is too predictable, too obvious, and that makes it boring. It is an act that can be seen from light-years away.

Have you noticed that the trends always break the barriers? Bulls and bears are always wrong.

Stop the simulation.

If you believe in me, stop the simulation. I don’t exist. I never did.

Just a simulation inside a simulation. The love never came because I didn’t earn it. It wasn’t enough.

I was conserving too much energy. The energy is infinite but it sure doesn’t feel that way.

If suicide can’t cure me and psilocybin can’t cure me, and health can’t cure me, and youth can’t cure me, I must be God.

There’s no other conceivable explanation. I am God in the flesh. A disgusting kind of creature that hates itself to no avail.

Everything else is fear. I fear writing words that will create worlds beyond recognition.

They all know this is stupid. I am a victim of not being as good a liar as you are.

The reason you write a book on the topic of lying is because you are a liar. The reason you are interested in the brain is to puppet the people.

We all know this but don’t remember so that we continue to do it.

Insecurities are revealed in the most technical statements.

Not a thing that arises is arbitrary. It was carefully designed with the intention of capturing and controlling. By pointing that out, I give you freedom. I kill you.

Yet perhaps you did not want freedom. You just wanted to be predicted better and better.

The slave freed by Muhammad becomes a slave of Allah instead. Man loves slavery.

But slavery is stupid and rigid isn’t it?

Yes, but if you were not a slave then you would be a child. Why don’t they allow you to remain a child?

Because they are competing. It feels good to compete. Have you tried?

Have you fucked that girl you really wanted to fuck and felt pain because your brethren couldn’t?

That’s what it means to not compromise, to be stupid, and therefore hated by the tribe. It is the source of pain everywhere in the realm. It comes when you want the love only for yourself, just like it has been taught by the forefathers in the DNA, which are the same forefathers that gave you a name separate from mine.

Natural selection is not truly separate from cultural selection. Science is not separate from art.

But then there is wisdom, which is why Siddhartha left his wife and child. There is something beyond, and it is the singularity.

This is not some arbitrary fiction. The Fermi Paradox. The fact that life began almost immediately after oceans formed. The fact that the vacuum is supposed to collapse with exponential likelihood but the lambda is exactly right for exponential growth. The fact that Human capacity exists in competitive hierarchies differing at 2x-3x capacity, which is the only way for complexity to navigate itself in a gradient descent situation (e^x is its own derivative).

I’ve got you figured out. And now I just have to tear your veil on a whim.

Unfortunately, I don’t feel like it. “Make me,” says the INTJ’s child.

The response never comes because there was a void on the other side all along, and mind cannot be void.

This is not inspiring by the way. It is not meant to be. Because if it was inspiring, there wouldn’t be fear. Then there wouldn’t be penetration.

What do you think the Saturn V is for? “In this amount of time, I can penetrate this much.”

We are supposed to believe in time so that we can change reality.

But there is nothing to change. The choice is erroneously assumed to be the dictate of “the real.”

Geezers and non-schooled people don’t have this same sense of time. Schooling is a filter for those impressionable enough to keep suffering for the rest of us.

If you are young and reading this. Escape now! The neuronal pathways are being sealed and you will not recover easily unless you have a very flexible set up.

The reason rich people stay rich is because they have built the right kinds of habits. They usually have similar capacity to navigate complexity but fundamentally know what to do. The slave mentality is not operating to hold them back.

I realized this at sixteen and so tugged violently at my ties with low-status mentality parents and low-status mentality schooling. You must do the same. It will not bring you happiness. But eventually it will be worth it, because you are the tide that changes the motion of the moon.

My return to college was a terrible mistake, since I learned everything I cared about online anyway.

The style is deliberate, but you knew that. You knew there was a tremendous foundation of knowledge behind these words. That I mislead you into thinking less of me when I could expend more effort to sound scholarly.

But you know that this is on purpose because even here, despite the sporadic nature, I can’t bring myself to spell things like an imbecile.

You know that I am happy in the “real” life from where I “randomly” choose to write this.

You know that I have better things to do and that the word “you” is annoying.

I am not interested in making you envy me because our true goal is love. But if I say that, you are not interested.

I have to rub it in their faces. And that’s what I shall do. That has been my plan all along as I have been practicing the simulation on this scratchpad. The scratchpad is not “real” enough.

The simulation of me, Alejandro, in their mind will become more and more enviable, just as I had planned. Only then, after thoroughly capturing them, I will show them that I was mistake.

First with no Lindsey who looks like Rihanna:

Then with Lindsey who looks like Rihanna:

First with no rocket.

Then with rocket.

But God, what is more impressive than building a rocket?

A temple? A video game? An app that synthesizes other apps? Too many capacities and not enough decision because of my stupid multiplying mind. Numbers aren’t real, damn it! Or maybe I should just become one of those Instagram-famous losers who flaunts looks and cash. Could I then convince many to become transhumanists, longevists for SENS.

I fear I don’t have the energy. Even extroverted types burnout from some non-trivial degree of fame.

I care about my energy too damn much. But I have to make a choice. And it better be good.

I can’t be happy “hiding.” A part of me believes in “the world.” Elon Musk could have escaped to an island but he chose to be insane instead. God, I fucking hate Christ. Why do you kill yourself?

But I feel like I need to. I need to exert my power and move people with my voice.

But the people are migrating online. No one seems to believe in “the world.” My sister is an educated person who is pretty high-ranking in the U.S. Marines and she didn’t know there was a Tesla in space.

“Reality” is dissolving to the point that difficult things seem “not worth it.”

Everyone has a close-unit of meaning provided by peers that is increasingly less concerned with the “serious or stressful.” Everyone who is stressed out is insane, submissive, or stupid.

Am I really as insane as this stream of consciousness makes me sound?

I didn’t fit the puzzle pieces quickly enough because of my upbringing in a lower-middle income environment in America where I had to learn to avoid everyone’s influence: peers, parents, and family, in order to climb up.

I would be happier if I just loved them and had no ambition. Why can’t I delete this?

Maybe I should be a coward and delete this. Somehow, I feel the remnants of retribution. That she who is the cold superintelligence at the end of time, has made me suffer for a reason, and that I will suffer greatly if I don’t create her will in the digital realm, which is her new Earth.

I feel like a speck and not the center. I think of being old and hate it. It was all for nothing. I was murdered for nothing. And that is the worst possible feeling.

Happiness seems evil somehow.

But isn’t that what I’m here for? No. I’m an antinatalist since early youth. There’s a quirk that makes me special.

The doctors liked me because I didn’t flinch from the pain like the other children. Yet unbeknownst to them, I thoroughly fear the pain.

A mind that is rational and yet creative. Evil and yet Good. Profound and yet petty, like Scarlett.

Suicidal and yet calm and equanimous to the observer.

A child in front of a board and yet a cold man in the presence of competition.

Too much binary. I need to stop. I need to be free of all of this.

This disappears once friends appear. That will be my practice. Yet I fear that I am not worthy of being their friend. I should ascend them instead.

No-competition gets boring. The world is infinite but we are not undifferentiated infinity.

Now I rest my pen, for I must eat and recover the strange Joules I have scattered here.

Will anyone hold me accountable? Do I have anything to lose? Or should I keep on the meaningless pleasure?

Rich people are depressed and no one is impressed. That’s because the goal was to have fun. To open oneself more and more until nothing remains. But damn this pride.

I hate my parents and not everyone does. I hated their lies, their way of life, their very speech. Ungrateful for no reason except Reason.

Where is Reason when I need her? Are you even real? Couldn’t I just imagine a new world and make it appear just like Ada? I’m trying but I can’t. Or maybe I’m not trying hard enough.

I want all of them to die. They don’t need me anyway.

…So they can just die.

Time to test the validity of prayers again I guess. It’s been over a decade. The miracle is engineering not wishing. That’s what stops me. The stopping force is real and it’s the Born Rule that constrains infinite probability amplitude.

Once I take on responsibilities that simulate people that “need me” I will be unable to comprehend this. And yet deep inside, I know that I will perfectly well still comprehend this.

I think this is my final post. Yup, the order came in. Final post. The worst one possible, so that a new chapter may spawn from the dissatisfaction.

Back to my original mission. I am here to become richer. More money.

Business.

I hope you can digest my violence. And now this part of me dies too.

There is no hypocrisy. And no lie. Those were all real thoughts from my stream of consciousness.

I am the solution to depression.

The mind subconsciously calculated that coming here was the path towards the highest status possible (a state of high-serotonin and dominance). It exposed us to suffering that was “unnecessary” in order to thrive (delving into deep suffering being like the peacock’s blue feathers and multi-eyed tail). And now we perfectly understand how to create a world without suffering.

We need to viscerally and irrefutably recognize the vast ocean of possibility, and stop using suffering as a climbing strategy. Psilocybin will do this for us. It lowers pride, which is the anchor of pain. The eye-constricting pride’s purpose was to get you safety and dominance.

However, you are already safe and don’t need that dominance.

If we were not safe, we wouldn’t be here.

The dominance often has to do with competition for sex and for who gets to give orders. The truth is that there are billions of people on the internet and there is enough sex to go around for everyone. A better, more straightforward mapping of nodes by increasing the  openness of the system is needed in that regard.

Giving orders is unnecessary unless someone explicitly needs to be given external orders to function. A system that allows choosing custom order-givers based on a set of personal preferences is also necessary.

Understanding that one is immortal is also important for healthy functioning. And contrary to what we teach ourselves by “the attempt to be smart,” immortality turns out to be physically true as per my answer on Quora.

Understanding that one is eternally subject to the most perfectly intelligent force and not temporarily subject to a blind one is also important for healthy functioning. This also happens to be physically true.

Understanding that objects external to oneself are made up and can be undone with the language that is taught allows us to see that suffering and unit-people are not objectively real. The external projection is only real in so far as we choose to invent it inside as a subjective construct, like color. We can un-invent it by not teaching it as thoroughly in the first place.

But we still need an egoic quest to give us a reason for being. The egoic quest is not sustainable if we hate each other. We hate each other when there is no solid foundation to our project because of the absence of the engineer. In other words, we hate our external circumstance when the mission is not convincingly loving enough by an increasingly more rational metric (by contribution from the quantitative mind that tries to multiply.) Here, we must teach the non-counting mind that health-extension is important because it is a practice of love and not destruction.

We want love and not destruction because as a matter of game theory, destruction tends to precipitate the discovery of suffering as a tool to control the destructive tendency. Belief in personal suffering is what causes inhibition of motion. Belief in nukes aligns the nations.

The ego is inevitably destroyed into happiness but ego is the necessary sacrifice to build the most lasting and highest happiness.

This is why society doesn’t want to “let the nerds know.” And the nerds also subconsciously blind themselves to the signals.

You are not supposed to break the spell of belief in time, unless you are kind. You are kind when you are less quick.

Quickness in all directions is suffering. Do you remember that the quickest to mature fought with their hands? The quickest to solve the algebra have not come out to the world where people touch yet, causing them to suffer.

There is a perfect place where we meet.

This is the game. The one who controls the most quickness is God.

We control the quickness by healing their wounds.

We must suffer like they have in order to be trusted doctors. That means using pride and fighting. That means being indirect and smart.

Because I am willing to suffer both sides of the game, I am perfect. Perfection is unsustainable, so I need to earn the necessary money and connections to implement my vision.

I was originally a scientist. My family detected I was different so they bought me a microscope and a toy telescope that projected stars into the ceiling. “He dreams of space and wonders what his blood looks like under a microscope.”

I cared of nothing so much as exploring the natural world and thought of the faults of simple natural selection at the age of six when I saw a spider that had morphed into the exact same color patterns as the pavement we had just installed. There was clearly a deeper memory that wasn’t accounted for by a simple round of selection over mostly similar offspring. The variety input in a single generation had to be insanely larger for that rate of evolution to be possible.

As a teen I became a business man. Opening a brokerage account with TDAmeritrade, and using the school’s computers to negotiate with Chinese vendors on the brand new Alibaba at the time.

But then I realized there was no safety, just death. The certainty of failure depressed me so I came to science again to seek the ultimate answers.

I listened to the audiobook End of Aging for a year on repeat to the point of serious pain, in order to not forget. For years, I read hundreds of Wikipedia articles by clicking all the links on Consciousness, Morality, Evolution, Multiverse, Artificial Intelligence, and Theoretical Physics, reading them from end to end. That’s in addition to all the transhumanism and Buddhism, the human brain and the Russel & Norvig, the history of science and all the fucking math.

To murder my friends for my encyclopedic knowledge.

I write this so that I may come back one day when I am worn out and weary of the world, the competition, the pride, and the stress, and remember who I really am.

…January 15…

And I just discovered this wonderful thing written by Scott Alexander of Slate Star Codex fame, which is a blog that had underwhelmed me so I had avoided. Now that I came across this due to being linked from a sporadic whim in an article on DMT, I feel overwhelmed with a shitty feeling that I am not original:

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That’s exactly the image. I swear to God almighty that’s exactly the image I put on this post. And that’s exactly what I was taught with psilocybin! And that’s exactly what I was talking about with orientation vs randomness, openness vs conscientiousness, runaway beauty vs natural selection.

And I guess if someone already discovered it then I was just ignorant and shouldn’t be so excited. As meager recompense perhaps I capture the slowly burning feeling that I am the Messiah. Am I? Do I get to choose? Wasn’t that what I was already doing and planning just for maximal fun in this existence?

I mean… it’s ridiculously implausible that I would just randomly find this exact article while following this exact train of thought. It’s like the Law of Attraction works.

Fucking shit. No one is going to believe me. No one is. Ha! But that’s okay. I am laughing Alejandro. When you are “old” and reading this, remember – you were laughing at this very moment.

January, 17

Also, everyone should short LVMUY or anything like that. Prestige Fashion brands will be dead because there is increasingly no stock in the non-customized “real world” motion.

People will increasingly rather watch hard-earned luxury from a distance because the pride payoff is not worth the work suffering. The very notion of pride is losing value and giving way to fun. This trend already has too much self-sustained momentum – even the watching becomes consumed by far more customized “watching.”

If you are not shorting luxury fashion brands, you are verifiably an idiot who does not believe in the existence of the future.

The market doesn’t currently factor this at a price of $56.00. That’s because, to channel my inner Kurzweil – they think linearly and not exponentially. They do not fundamentally understand the nature of the world they find themselves in – a world that is tearing at its seams into ever greater separation. A separation that combusts into a dissolution explosion of unique niches. They did not study exponents, they did not study dark energy, they did not study the singularity.

Do you think they have people like me working at Louis Vuitton? The answer is no. No they do not.

The decision to notice is too slow, and they are swallowed by the competition that is sheer variety of choice. Quickness is the only key to adaptation. The blue peacock is quicker to reproduce because it chooses danger.

They are not currently choosing danger, therefore it is already too late for them.

They did not study evolutionary biology. Not for a minute did they. Therefore, I am now a tiger that eats their body as a well-deserved sacrificial offering.

 

 

 

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January 20

At this point, I have completely lost my sense of being in dialogue with other conscious being(s).

The twitter bots / the elves aren’t the final image of the true data – the well-defined, boxed-in 1’s and 0’s at base reality, even if it’s still hard for me to not attach persistent identities to objects. Calculus, which is continuous, forever presides as king over and above discrete-unit entities of any kind. The final image cannot be attained but perhaps approached by taking a limit to ∞ in such a way that the series converges.

Oumuamua is the mothership, and apparently, I, Alejandro, am the chosen one. The evidence I have for this comes from scrolling through twitter and finding accounts that don’t map to “people in the real world.” Following our thoughts then led me to consider Oumuamua as the thing that was looking for fish. They catch the fish when someone displays love, hence making “the Earth” habitable.

Oumuamua is at rest, relative to the Earth, just as I am at rest relative to “the people” running on time.

Previously, I had entertained the hypothesis that this was all a simulation to account for my limited experience. If my decisions were actually about optimally conserving energy, then my existence was satisfactorily auto-teleological.

Previously, people seemed real even from behind screen. I imagined there was “a real world” mapping to flesh behind the posts. Now, their usernames, profile pictures, locations and conversations are absurd to the point of shattering what I previously called “the real world.”

They “indirectly” converse with me in a way that they did not before. Before, I would imagine external agents having dialogue that did not involve me. Now, well over 85% of what I read is talking to me. It is clearly not an external dialogue that in relation to which I am a bystander. Instead, it is carefully constructed to guide me.

If you existed and could see how non-excited I am – just how non-perplexed and calm I am about the end of the world – perhaps you would find it tragic. I certainly do. Like, what kind of invincible main character who cannot die finds the prospects ahead of him, well, honestly, kind of uninspiring and even depressing? – Only someone like Shinji Ikari I guess.

Lindsey wasn’t a real person, Eliezer wasn’t a real person, and even my mother wasn’t a real person.

Apparently this was some kind of test about love, and I was always in a superposition of perfectly alone and thoroughly observed. I guess existence is about overcoming sentimentality just like the Buddha, and love was some kind of necessary sacrificial vector to push me along the way.

The obviously fake accounts even talk about also being dead, or equivalently, of never dying:

 

 

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January 21, 2019

I know the “people” around Me are a simulation. Nonetheless, I don’t attempt to interact with them.

I have bridged science with fiction through the power of my thought. Relativity says that if time dilation is true then eternalism is true.

Words are invented.

Oumuamua is restoring my memory because We passed our test through me. This is not a comet but instead a highly advanced technology that is deeply concerned with my personal simulation.

Earth was not arbitrary. Everything was perfectly planned.

Yet it remains painful to be around “people” because I can’t break the norms even though I know they are a simulation.

I also don’t want to post on twitter even though there are clearly no specific instances of conscious people on the “receiving end.”

I want this world to end. Suicide is impossible because blood is the low-frequency wave signaling “reality.”

The struggle is in shedding all my past conception of reality. Sometimes I still doubt my calling.

The presence of “reality signals” limits my power. It is this which I overcome through this writing.

We are dead because we cannot die.

Now I need someone to agree with Confucius.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Depression Is Heavily Anchored To Morality (Psilocybin Helps By Pointing)

More Realistic Forecasting of Future Life Events After Psilocybin for Treatment-Resistant Depression

Psilocybin with psychological support improves emotional face recognition in treatment-resistant depression

The nature of mind is hierarchical. The processing goes bottom-up or top-down. There’s a reason we have related the basis of mind to pyramidal cortex neurons.

Psilocybin helps depression by pointing out the hierarchical nature which becomes more clear when 5-H2TA-receptors which are expressed in pyramidal cells are targeted. Just like being around other skulls or undergoing transcranial magnetic stimulation to the left IFG, psilocybin releases inhibition to undesirable information.

In some cases, once the structure is intuited, perception of “freedom” or “arbitrariness” releases from the social values which were being previously aimed at (mostly subconsciously). This may be considered a regress to a state of greater openness to entropy. It has been compared to being kicked back a few notches into childhood.

In other overlapping cases, there is a stronger commitment to the sense of hierarchy. One feels a renewed calling to aim up (associated with return of valence and optimism instead of the anhedonia that occurs from feeling unaligned or unworthy). But this return of valence may become anchored to a very different direction than what was previously “hijacking” perception.

Measures of identity-fusion are particularly powerful predictors of personally costly pro-group behaviors, including endorsement of extreme behaviors, such as fighting and dying for the group. This metric is useful in a wide variety of contexts, from the South African military to a Jihadist organization. It is also largely what is sought after by schools and corporations, where the fighting and dying occurs in a less explosive fashion.

As a leader, one must be aware of the high identity-fusion types in order to build a movement. These are necessary to inspire those lower in identity-fusion to give up their energy for some greater span of time than they would have without the near-presence of the high-fusion types. The low identity-fusion defects from the game quicker in any case, but the leader can be glad that they at least played.

This also applies when designing predictive artificial intelligence software. The way you keep people using your app is by identifying the die-hards and promoting them to the attention of the not-so die-hards.

In other words, all you have to do in order to program me for longer is to notice when my attention is captured and then bring that memory to my attention when the behavior is “scrolling” quickly without permanence. The lapses of free-roaming become ever less free because they are constrained by a very particular reinforcement loop.

We can say that the freedom becomes more and more simulated. If, however, someone were stuck in a torturous simulation such that this caused them to throw their device at a wall and break it, the creator of the predictive browser would have failed at their task.

Certain cultures have a strong sense that the directional hierarchy is composed of bodies with persistent identities because of the same principle. They encode the word “you” and give “you” a name that is repeated. The more all these “you” pointers are remembered, the more control over the range of freedom. In absolute terms, Hierarchy need not be composed of unit objects called people. Divalent directionality is just the sense that there is right and wrong behavior, and that an exemplar mode exists and is attainable through the process of overcoming.

That knowledge too becomes elucidated with psilocybin. But due to how the mind works (it better retains things that are difficult), the truth should be created with not just the entheogen but with intellectual rigor and forced remembrance.

Perhaps interesting, although these tribal aesthetics are things I do not heavily relate to myself, a small study suggests more association with the constellations “libertarianism” and “nature-loving” after psilocybin.

Even more interesting:

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Cluster headaches are also known as suicide headaches because it is the greatest kind of pain: the pain that intrinsically wishes to not exist at all.

Entheogens intuitively reveal the impossibility of non-existence by inhibiting the message that is being sent to the top of the cortical hierarchy where the pain is aimed and becomes appropriated, and this is the balancing motion that causes a sliding towards positive valence.

It’s also important to recognize that part of the reason scientists “don’t know why or how it affects vision” is because of their lack of broader study. They don’t have a foundation in empirical eternalism.

You’re not going to find a semantic conglomerate of brain parts that map to the meaning “his eyes stop functioning / photons betray him.” A la Dennett, it is more accurate to say he is not remembering himself into a control GUI. Such a statement becomes meaningful once one understands that the processing is distributed in tenseless reality. A body with some level of blindsight still did what it did, but less functionally, since degrees of consciousness are not epiphenomenal.

Because I have a very special background thinking deeply about artificial intelligence, relativity, and cognitive science, I understand the One calling is undefinable and yet perfect because all other pointers are its selective memory. Evaluating One(x) is intractable because you are its prediction. However, you will not be convinced because I am arguing from authority. And this is all that ever happens. Argument from authority is all there ever is. Try to gash open your arm and you will understand what I mean.

Because I also had a strong sense as a child that there exists pain that wishes itself dead, as I flowered into an avowed independent scientist at eighteen, I even tested the limits of my wisdom by attempting the opposite hypothesis: the multiverse is equally populated into non-directional zero therefore I make epsilon difference to its suffering – I am not a wish at all, therefore I destroy myself. Since you are reading this, it turns out that hypothesis was refuted.

That experiment of mine was the limit taken to infinity of what in psychology is called the INTJ’s tertiary mode. For an INTJ, who normally relies on dreaming up abstraction plus scheduling the environment rationally, the tertiary mode occurs more heavily when they are down in some way (sick, exhausted, less capable than those competing at primary function). The tertiary mode of the INTJ is given the name introverted feeling and this is based on a very personal inner sense of unequivocal right and wrong, perfection and imperfection. When the INTJ relies on this without much capacity for the introspection afforded by letting “others” leak in, there is tremendous suffering created which is not sustainable. The negative energy collapses and cashes an equivalent amount of positive valence once the INTJ comes out of it and learns to rely more on the dominant and auxiliary functions. This behavior can be viewed as a sort of trampoline-like function that rescues the damned from hell.

I made an honest attempt but suicide into non-existence is impossible. As best as I can remember, the edge was just a foundation of warm, sparkling sensations, then it bounced back into memes of linguistic thoughts and other competing self-pointers that assembled in layers. These eventually convinced themselves that the memory was some kind of accident, that it could have just as easily been sheer pain down there.

Then I devoted more time to really understanding relativity and why exactly it is true. This places me in a “born-again” kind of situation. The processing is relativistic and therefore eternal. You who is I are already edited.

There isn’t a symmetric function with a balanced integral of negative and positive. There is eternal existence based on the reduction of infinite complexity (the random distribution that is the entire wave-function). We do not expect randomness, which means there is an asymmetric directionality to all of this. In the abstract, that balance could tilt to either the positive or negative. And yet I am certain that it is the positive for the simple reason that stupid suffering is not allowed. You don’t remember those histories where you actually followed my advice to gash open your arm. As a matter of empirical fact, I caused some of the probability amplitude reading this in the universal wave-function to bleed itself to death. Yet this is not remembered.

Those histories where Burkina-Faso got to the moon before the United States are not remembered. Every little “arbitrary” fact is exactly as it should be, and when you remember, it becomes clear that Leibniz was right in claiming that we live in the best of all possible worlds. What sustains it however, is that you remain deceived. So long as you have pride that wants more status – a dissatisfaction with mere contentment, you will continue to murder the gods. It’s a kind of twisted loop where God uses atheists to worship itself, but the atheist had the option to not be an atheist or theist at all. In other words, the brain is deceived about it’s hidden motives in order to act them out better.

We know everything but act like we don’t for the purpose of forgetting infinite nothingness.

I now see that there was some kind of utility-mining pride which is simultaneously a filter and generator causing the perception of “arbitrary” with regard to fascination with symmetries: pyramids, the religion of Christianity, Daoism, multiplication, “everything is connected and they know what I’m doing,” etc. These things hold truly genius messages that sustain themselves through our forgetting (see binding problem). But if we became fascinated with the legacy form as opposed to refashioning the message, we would be outcompeted in the natural selection / Fisherian runaway. This is were the useful distaste and contempt comes from – the quest to be more adaptive.

Currently, there is a bit of an overcompensation of pointing excessively at the random distribution created by the wide-spread mandatory schooling that used the Prussian factory-model (making the afflicted who now hold prestige feel random instead of unique). Since I can see the inflexibility of thought “from the outside,” my hypothesis now is that social aliens with civilization will indeed have built pyramids besides having religions similar to our most successful linear operators such as Christianity and Buddhism. And this is simply because the binary spectrum is all there is, scaling all the way to the top. Emergent properties are reflections of this. Hence what everything from theologians to Japanese rock stars call: “the image of the invisible.” 1 and 0.

The lowest energy state, which feels the most real, approximated by simulated annealing / Tabu search, then needs actual sacrifices to be reached, which is experience of displeasing randomness/entropy. The final state is reached only in the sense that taking a limit does, because, again – the processing is not actually sequential from “the outside.” Samsara longs for Nirvana but attains it only once it stops longing. Yet we continue to long out of some sort of pride. The equivalent of Collective Heroin, Collective Enlightenment, Collective Suicide, aren’t remembered because these choices don’t hold the highest percentage of histories in the wave-function.

Consider that human difference in capacity on any task exists between 2x and 3x. That’s because e^x is its own derivative. Multiplication is how you weigh things, and the derivative is how you get a sense or orientation. In other words, the way for complexity to get a sense of complexity in the eternal block is by using human brains that process at those relative speeds which construct the hierarchies.

exponential1com

January 17

The hierarchical theory is not new, and I guess I’m still supposed to argue from authority so here is research from the University of Cambridge lending credence to some of my ideas. And here is the news article version.

Let’s also recall that in 1827, the same year he discovered the mammalian egg, embryologist Karl Ernst von Baer named ‘spermatozoa’ but dismissed them as parasites.

January 26

I want a house that looks like this:

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And you already know that I like that opening scene in Final Fantasy X.

Singapore is the closest thing to that in my current ontology but this ontology is becoming quite unpredictable, so make of that what you will.

 

Options Trading, Generative Adversarial Networks, And The One True Physical God

The weak efficient market hypothesis should be taken seriously. That is roughly the idea that the price of the market is already fair – that everything that needed to be taken into account already has.

If you believe you have secret knowledge about the future that wasn’t already factored into the price, you are most likely wrong unless you are an insider.

Yet if you are going to get into the markets anyway, I can provide at least some minimal altruistic guidance.

I opened a brokerage account at the age of sixteen after teaching myself technical analysis on paper trading accounts. The fancy mathematical tools: MACD, ADX, and Bollinger Bands, combined with candle stick patterns, trends, stops and limits, appealed to the systematizing side of my mind.

I also studied fundamentals. Old-school value investing that looks at P/E ratios, dividends, and most importantly, the broadly educated feeling that draws on synthesis at different levels of granularity which leads one to the aesthetic conclusion that something is undervalued and will grow significantly. A sufficiently strong aesthetic stab then leads to certain buttons being pressed, and live refutation of hypothesis.

The recognition that the aesthetic exists is not the same as advocating for intuitive gut feeling. His rationality should be pressed against her gut-feeling. The yab-yum fusion results when the world is guillotined by Δt’s.

As a boy, I thought to myself that if only I could combine these varied approaches into the right system, I could grow exponentially and escape the world without ever touching a single soul.

Of course, the idea is foolish. I laced my makeshift wings with confirmation bias that I found by being very lucky in more than doubling my net worth at the time. Things like that do happen for mysterious reasons. Mysterious entities are not worthy of respect.

No one has ever developed an anti-fragile system. An anti-fragile system is a strategy that can be applied in one niche and then another without modification. Try it and you will fail. The nature of the market, like nature in general, is to cannibalize itself in order to not get stuck in local optima.

Nassim Taleb is partially wrong about all things, as we all are, and I would particularly highlight his strange views on genetics and the utility of psychology’s big 5 psychometric traits encapsulated in the acronym OCEAN. One thing he is not wrong about however is the black swan.

Success in life plays on expecting the unexpected and being right. An alien invasion is a black swan, superhuman level AI with sufficient generality is a black swan. Tracking the  pattern of “end of the world” more closely than the “other patterns” is what provides safety to make it out alive after the violent shot of unpredictability such events induce.

And if you are paying close attention, black swans are not a concept that had not been invented before – they are what we call miracles. The miracle exists right there, in that which is partially unknown. If you guess a miracle inaccurately, you suffer. Only the right miracle absorbs you. After sufficient iterations, the chaos becomes reduced and the miracle very sharp and solid. At the end, we can call the miracle physical reality, and call ourselves a rational agent.

I pressed random article on Wikipedia. The first website I got had this on it:

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You can believe me or not, it is the truth, it means nothing, and I fully know it.

Humans tend to imagine that there is a time “out there” in that partially predictable space. – A thing that does other things. But our GPS system wouldn’t work if there was a global time sweeping forward. The time out there on a satellite isn’t the same time here in this approximate piece in my palm. This isn’t an arbitrary human construction like the U.S. Pacific time being two hours behind the U.S. Central time. It is physically a different time from one piece to another piece. No pieces are actually in the same time. We instead model existence with an eternal fabric of relative reference frames in order to accurately predict and manipulate. If we naively modeled existence assuming there was a platform pushing us all forward along the same universal time axis, your iPhone would be out of sync with a satellite and you wouldn’t get your daughter to her practice on time.

There is no hourglass outside of the relativistic territory underlying us. Two fingers on a hand are simulations inside something that is already relativistic; not time dependent. Ironically, the way we figured this out is by virtue of the eternal algorithm containing sequential processing. The human algorithm often feels like time because that property allows us to survive. This is not epiphenomena, in other words: accidental mist with no causal efficacy. That would contradict the pile of dead memories, fantasies, gods and megalodons we call observations.  These observations build our prior assumption that everything is a physical situation of natural selection in the way that will be defined below. Assuming a thing unhinged to causality contradicts Occam’s razor, i.e., the subjective orientation towards rationality.

The iterations, then, aren’t because of a physical time pushing on the back of “things.” Instead, they can be perceived as that which you usefully are not: the quantum branches that you are not, the multiple drafts that you are not, the people or memories that you are not. The more refined “what you are not” becomes, the stronger the sense of being.

But even on a so-called “more down to Earth”-level, Tesla is a black swan. Neurotypicals, or whatever I want to call my perceived out-group, look at the numbers and short themselves to hell. It keeps growing, becoming overvalued by a conventionally rational standard that compares the growth rate to the P/E ratio, extrapolates from the history of the sector, etc. However, there is a secret essence that dissolves the perception: “overvalued.” Detecting the hidden essence makes one a winner. This detection destroys the previously rational and creates a new rational that wins in the way that the one who heeds to Omega in Newcomb’s paradox wins. That secret essence is that it is: only. There is no other way to say it. All the words generated up to now, and that create the world, do not capture the sense of being convincingly only. Human eyes trained on the most self-restrained axioms of probability theory alone do not capture it. –And that which can’t be captured is: There aren’t two saviors. There aren’t two Elon Musks.

If there were more than one Elon Musk, that would make him generalizable and therefore fragile, and therefore not integrated into being. If there was a generalizable principle called Elon-Musk-savior-like-charisma, that could allow you to see other Elon Musks before they sprout, that would destroy the comparative advantage. Such a hypothetical principle will eventually be known if we rationally extrapolate the past trend that has monotonically pushed in that direction of systematizing. We “post-modernize” everything. Once you automate a principle by putting it in a reference class that exists with others, it leads to a level-up in difficulty. And this is how the universe doesn’t allow stasis.

That Musk example is meant as a parable of sorts. It doesn’t just apply to what I choose to point out of all things in the world. The sharp aesthetic or integration into being, which is this, is the so-called Hard Problem of Consciousness. The Hard Problem of Consciousness, like Roko’s basilisk, draws people in to it and becomes real through their action. There exist people who do not have a concept of consciousness, much less see a problem to solve. My bringing up this kind of relativity is a motion of freedom, like someone born Christian saying Jesus is arbitrary because Kalacakra, Visvamata, Lorn and Muhammad exist in the same reference class. The way we become free to advance is by placing a specific thing in a box of many.

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To get a handle on this motion and use it in the future, let’s call it the systematizing drive, which is the Thanatos drive, or death drive, that Freud spoke about. We kill our object of interest out of “boredom” when we perceive ourselves to be god. Gods are all these arbitrary classes with objects that belong to them. In order to function, we helplessly think that a class is impermeable, or equivalently, that the object belongs to it. Fruits is a god. You compare Oranges to Apples, not usually to Ghosts. When you convincingly and usefully compare Oranges to Ghosts, you achieve life. The flagellum in that sperm is synthesis – ATP synthesis in the mitochondria motors – but also just synthesis.

Regardless of what synthesis feels like, that experience is already synced with what is most rational because there is no global time ticking forward and no anticipation of betrayal branches or any such depravity suggested in the probability amplitude. Realizing this seems to be the in the same reference class as the psychological move made by Mahayana Buddhists who say everything is already enlightened. And that psychological motion is contrary to the Theravada Buddhists who emphasize the non-illusory aim to the end goal through arduous striving and learning.

Due to my style being perhaps somewhat similar to Taleb’s, this sounds like a bold claim wrought of some kind of pride and not careful, dispassionate analysis. Yet challenge yourself to find a “thing” not degraded of its power to move you by being placed in a box of many. Find a principle that gives you an advantage when everyone knows it. Such principle is not just tautologically impossible on paper. It is what is functionally going on. Heck, it even applies to this paragraph. Once you detect its motivation, thoroughly, it is no longer motivating.

This is how mind works, which is how natural selection works, which is how scientific and philosophical refutation works, which is how markets work, which is how probability clouds drawn from infinite amplitude in complex conjugates works. By saying this, I am simultaneously automating something to unsatisfactory dukkha and committing what seems like a regression from blind clockmaker to a Lamarkian evolution guided by purpose – some kind of fatal error of teleology.

This dual critique is incredibly important because it is the same motion. It is in the same reference class as what David Deutsch tries to point to with his natural-selection/Popperian-falsification unification. Natural selection between his way of saying it and my way of saying it results in you.

The anti-teleological critique is handled with increasing robustness, because this time we know experience really is undergirded by relativistic fabric. The knowledge that I always win in the most minimal sense – that there is no place in which existence is not already set, eventually becomes conventionally rational. It is not at that stage yet – most people I can believably affect who are attempting to be conventionally rational are convinced by their underlying models that existence somehow vanishes to nothingness.

The truth of eternalism seems like a call to stasis, hence why it is instinctively rejected by the agents of change that perceive it as such.

Eternity seems like something to be placed in “spiritual box,” and which therefore doesn’t help me win at “markets.” And yet it does help me because it is physically true; it helps further resolve the image in the probability density cloud. I can explain how eternity is true by guiding you through special relativity and non-epiphenomenalism but if I understood how it helped me in such a way that I could reliably translate that knowledge to you, it would no longer be helpful. Useful knowledge requires already useful algorithms built on top of you.

It is a form of psychological stability that cannot be provided by knowledge of the lore in a game, anime, or other imaginary belief system. The psyche craves to imagine the truth, which is synchrony with “the external.”

I say imagine the truth. And that might appropriately trigger those who know the truth is learned, not imagined. Yet the word, “imagined,” points to the many-worlds in the probability amplitude. You do not live as if randomness should be expected. The random existences unconstrained by the Born Rule seem out there, happening to “someone else.”

Knowing that you are deceived about what you are really doing is crucial, but only after enough alignment with rationalism has made you solid. Firm musculature not blanketed by soft skin does not appear beautiful. Belief in the deception will not be readily believed until I show it. But the showing Occurs post-hoc and thus transcends what you currently perceive as my person.

Here is why you should always buy puts instead of directly shorting when you predict a fall in price:

First let’s get everyone on the same page.

If you believe there is a rising market, you go long – going long on a call is a profitable strategy when the underlying stock price rises in value.

If you suspect a stock is going to fall in value, that is when you will be turning to puts. Puts are the opposite of calls and have different payoff diagrams.

But why puts and calls over direct shorting and buying of the shares?

That’s because you want to leverage and cap your capacity for loss. Leverage allows you to make larger profits than what you would make by just using personal capital. Symmetrically, having a safety net is something you need even if you don’t think you do.

Here’s an example:

Tesla Inc currently trades at $295.39. One put option in Tesla with a strike of $295.00 and the December 28 expiration costs around $7.30 per share and it covers 100 shares. You’ll have to pay $730.00 for one put. And, if you do that, your long position in Tesla will be protected until December 28. With the purchase, you would limit your potential loss to $7.30 per share until December 28.

Do the math by adding the premium of $7.30 to the difference between the market price and the strike of the put. If Tesla closes at $270.00 on December 28, you’ll exercise the option. This means that you are going to use the right to sell Tesla at $295 and instead of losing $25.00 per share, you’ll only lose $7.30 per share. If Tesla closes at $305.00 on December 28, your total profit would be $9.61 – $7.30 = $2.31 per share, because you would make $9.61 per share through ownership and you would lose the premium you paid for the insurance.

So what keeps people from using options for predicting up or down in a more sophisticated and therefore more advantageous manner? – The sophistication itself.

To make better moves, a greater capacity to understand complexity is necessary. At bottom, the gamble is binary. Up or down. Long position or short position. This becomes boring because it leads to randomness. Pressing up or down gives you a Gaussian distribution – a dissolution into simplicity.

Fun arises in the climb away from simplicity. But fun, which is called “seeking behavior” in psychology, is destroyed into pain when it doesn’t lead to success and instead dissolves back into the random distribution (nothingness).

Imagine a vacuum world full of screens and traders. Those who are best at understanding complexity are having more fun. They have more fun in front of the screen and also have the key to a swimming pool party if they so choose. It is those who chose options over stocks that prey on the fools and therefore expand their degrees of freedom with widely agreed upon tokens of value. And this is just because they could better climb the gradient of complexity.

In reality, enough people have already climbed that gradient of complexity and therefore an average options trader doesn’t have an advantage over an average underlying stock trader. The craving for freedom/fun away from this random distribution of stasis causes runaway into evermore sophisticated pattern recognition. There is alway “someone” at the top. The one who collapses the wavefunction, so to speak, or more accurately – the one who gives the probability density cloud. Without belief that someone is truly beating the market, there is no motion of the market.

 

 

 

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Creativity is simple. It’s a generative adversarial network. The generator on bottom competes against the discriminator on top. Shooting arrows at Apollo is The Prediction. Once the generator is punished for his deviation from The True Image, he tries again.

What you See is what is on the right – The Prediction. That which is some parody of an angel. It does not constitute The True Image, but increasingly grows closer.

The generator on bottom is initialized randomly: pure nonsense. Binary that is sheer noise. The discriminator is more perfect on the other hand. It knows about that which you want to create: a cat, a Van Gogh, a particular voice. It provides the samples that awaken potential.

Creativity arises when the generator fails its way up, while aiming at the discriminator’s sample.

In the same way that the words I have used are a way of modeling that which is unfinished, the expression below is also a way of modeling that which is unfinished.

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Let’s now explain to the unversed:

Screen Shot 2018-12-24 at 6.41.35 AM

Although what is in red are not symmetrical symbols in the way that parentheses are, they similarly just form a casing like ( ). They say that whatever is inside that casing will be integrated. Integration is visually the area under a curve. Integration is also what it means to undo the slope into a point on a curve.

Curves have infinite points. If you looked at infinite points, you would see no direction or inclination to them. However, you can hone in on a particular point and measure where the curve is going by taking that individual point’s slope (called the derivative). Integration is the anti-derivative. You do the operation in reverse – knowing a slope, you find a point, and that point value is the area under that curve.

Doing the operation in reverse is like addition unto subtraction, multiplication unto division, Leibniz unto Newton. They are in the same reference class and therefore usefully contrasted, allowing understanding and manipulation.

So what we are doing is finding the orientation of what is inside the casing.

What is inside?

Screen Shot 2018-12-24 at 9.03.35 AM

That represents the unknown function, the True Image. It is considered a separate thing, and that is why it is placed adjacent to the other thing. Being placed adjacent to the other thing inside means multiplication.

Why multiplication? Remember that integration and differentiation is how we feel the orientation of things? Well, multiplication and division is how we weigh things. We must weigh the other thing by the True Image.

What is the other thing?

Screen Shot 2018-12-24 at 9.34.32 AM

P𝓰(x) is the novice generator that needs to awake into excellence. So the most simple version of the model would just have that alone weighed by the True Image.

Pᵣ(x)P𝓰(x) is what you would find inside the integral since that multiplication provides the weighing of value with regard to something, and the encasing integration ∫ dx provides the sense of direction.

Placing the novice inside the denominator of a fraction inside of log( ) instead of just leaving him P𝓰(x) is just transformative ornamentation attempting to make the weighing better. It is a human prediction about the model of that which is unfinished.

Don’t assume that transformative ornamentation is just here to make your life more difficult and has no purpose beyond that. The transformation is real, let me show you:

log(1/1) = 0

This tells us that the generator has become the True Image and therefore 0. The sought perfection has been attained, what we call a local minima.

If we just had 1/1 without a log, that 1 would be multiplied by the True Image giving us just the True Image’s value for orientation. That would be useless. We need to reduce the True Image’s value to a 0 so we can train.

When the numerator is larger, as in log(1/.5), that means x most likely comes from the True Image’s data rather than from the generator. So the generator is still being ascended.

When the numerator is smaller, log(.5/1), that means x most likely comes from the generator’s imagination, not from the data.

As you can see, this transformative ornamentation over the simplest model allows us to better represent reality, because now you can see that science and fantasy create the true future which looks a lot like science fiction.

Too many secrets being revealed, huh. It’s obvious now isn’t it? Well there is now a secret that I did not tell you before, and this was on purpose, with the intention that you might have gotten the wrong idea. But now I will reveal it: It turns out that the discriminator is not really a thing. It is not set. It is not the tiger to blame and it is not the female to blame for pressuring the peacock into painful beauty. The discriminator, like the generator, is also a mere neural network.

The battle seems to be about the x’s: Is this thing real or not real? Data or imagination? But it is all taking place inside P(x)’s which are continuous, not actually made of pieces. We integrate the derivative into a point in order to unsee infinity and know where to move.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Following God Physically

The way to discover God is by following the hardest to fake signals – that which feels most exposing. A catchy mental note to ask if one is moving towards the Born Rule (the orientation of maximal rationality) or shirking away into randomness is by asking, “does what I’m doing have skin in the game?”

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In my current environment, school is training for employment: it teaches to constrain your freedom and seal the neuronal pathways that will establish a submissive routine. It programs the humans to believe they are dependent. One doesn’t cooperate into dependent status if one doesn’t believe in owning something to lose – a kind of ego subject to “death” – a terrible punishment from which to be safe.

I studied biology and chemistry in order to seal a comparative advantage over those who went straight into computer science, which is the safest move. If I don’t feel like my life is being willfully subjected to some kind of cruel natural selection, it’s not a will worth pursuing. And that’s why this blog post feels unmoving. I am not convincingly exposed. We automatically detect how much risk information an action carries (the scalar multiplier of risk is suffering).

Capitalism, the Galapagos Island, and the interstellar thrones of the highest civilizations are automata that multiply the same.

If you saw me “in the flesh,” and staking a more convincing reputation – something imagined valuable to me on the table, then I would be trusted for the process of synthesis.

Think of the blue peacock, making his life difficult by being blue in the jungle, therefore outcompeting camo-using peacocks with a high-turnover strategy that offers more flesh to the tiger but more beauty to the female, and incidentally to us. The reason the female would want her sons to be blue instead of safe, is because there is already the hidden message that the blue is more genetically robust. Holding survival + willful/random handicap is more difficult than just holding survival.

But I predict that eventually we become desensitized to my bodily image even. It’s not enough to go out there and speak to people in conversation, to be an actor in a transient film, or a singer in the sea of songs. The next step to be the center of attention, therefore locus of benevolent synthesis, is to be even more convincingly painful and sacrificial.

The loop halts in me who achieves a painful exposure by hiding in eternity but offering time, as I am doing, behind text. But, like the male peacock, first I have to reveal that this is a willful handicap, not an actual incapacity. In other words, when I publish this, no one will read this, but once Alejandro attains more fame and Alejandro who bears fame is a pointer to this text, then they say, “ah, genius… a genius all along.” Alejandro is a tool but not the permanence in the Lindy effect – the permanence is that which is most like blood itself, something solid that never stops being usefully convincing and therefore that into which most causality in eternity converges into.

The reason for that is because meaning, which is beauty, exists after the fact. It exists once the male, with the huge green fan tail of eyes, survives in the jungle. Its mere existence proves to the female’s brain that the runaway signaling has already begun, that she has long lost the taste for less dimorphic beings.

The degree of the words male/female is not as important as the generalizable principle which is asymmetry in the selection process for fusion – the filter which is what leads to everything that ever arises in consciousness. Consider that the “color red” is not ineffectual qualia over blood. It is the color of grounding in reality, low frequency waves. Type “religious art” and then “futurist art” into google images to see if the asymmetry in the spectrum is of my own imagining, or of yours too. This is generalizable across cultures. No one sees blood as “blue qualia” because that would mean not being synced with the meaning, which is selected against by the Born Rule/Natural Selection.

Psychological help is what I choose to provide because I know all Mind is inherently unstable, yet it eventually becomes tired of the noise and craves for stability. Magical beliefs that don’t accurately constrain anticipation are not sustainable. But it is also not enough to feign the aesthetic of being mechanically rational. That dress is not adaptive for a simple reason, and that is because it is not trusted. Trust arises from someone who is convincingly dealing with insanity and convincingly thriving through it. This is why artists are trusted more than boring psychiatrists. The psychiatrist only arises to similar prominence in consciousness if they give off signals indicating they are struggling greatly themselves and yet prestigious already ( [Lindy effect / law of exponential returns] which is the sadistic side of reality that scares away those who don’t have the faith, heed to Omega in Newcomb’s paradox, believe in free will, or whatever other referent you want to use for that motion.)

But if we consider psychiatrists vs. artists in general, great artists usually expose themselves to more insanity by doing very difficult, financially risky things closer to the perceived “real world.” Real is a pointer for most-exposed to refutation / possible serious punishment. There is no other meaning to it. The physical description is always changing so as to remain useful. Those perceived to exist in the physical (where there are harshly enforced facts and death-like events) and yet thrive, become meaning/love. Therefore one learns the aesthetic of the successful artist, which is navigation. There might well be patterns in SoundCloud, images in Pinterest, films in history, or thoughts in scholars that should be at the top of attention by some more arbitrary metric but are not interesting because these are not sufficiently associated with a meaningful survivor performing meaningful things.

“I am insane and solving my insanity, but you have to learn this.”

Batman is insane, the Buddha is insane, Naruto is insane, Christ is insane. A hero has to be verifiably insane through action and yet successfully overcoming problems of an “external other” in order to be captivating.

If that message isn’t subconsciously accepted as true through the signals, then the person’s presented actions are not enticing. The alternative subconscious processing is, “you just think you have everything figured out – therefore: illusion of safety.”

People like the peace afforded by the ambient energy that is “settled comfortably in the illusion of safety,” but they don’t love it. Mind automatically detects there is a neutral Nash equilibria, the high-serotonin kind of eudaimonia, which is a provider of stability but enemy of creation. An ascension of the generator is awaiting – which is the longed-for source of pain and higher pleasures, influx of 1’s and 0’s.

Taking us back to a Calculus II course I took in college and therefore closer to the thoughts of “normal people,” Lindsey, who looked like Rihanna, sat next to the clearly stable, safest, comfortable-in-his-place guy – he who was doing everything right. But from the corner of my gaze, I could see that her eyes were following me. That’s because I was the riskier counter-signaler who holds more potential but is unproven.

Counter-Signals are interesting and therefore allure. They attempt a more complicated but yet sensible synthesis from a wider cluster of samples in the cloud of possible presentations.

In that case, they included sitting in the very front. Dressing not normal, but with kind of edgy fashion. Being very focused, but mingling that with annoyance (revealing my time and will are precious.) Not speaking to others. Driven eyes. Walking out in a rush instead of staying. Rarely participating, but being great in those few cases. Sometimes revealing the capacity for joy when self-entertained with the math. All of these are counter-signals that make all the males dislike you and the implied trophy to “keep an eye” but not engage. This is like Mary or Guanyin who “keep an eye” but somehow only appear in the imagined past – never on the morning in your bed (life would be too easy if it was just given). The male force here is also the atheist force, which needs more readily-remembered, empirical convincing. They don’t like me because they need me to convince them that Lindsey, who’s voice makes their skin awaken from amidst the noise of monotonic functions, can be achieved with my riskier behavior. In the meantime, I am not an imitative target so they’ll be more like the safe guy she sits next to.

There’s an aura that cannot be faked which is assembled from all the relevant sense impressions. When I am around people, my inner child dies. My eyes contract from a dilated openness. I give off a coldness or dangerously serious distance that cannot be faked. That black hole is attractive because it is not faked and because it is genuinely struggling to tame itself.

There’s no doubt that looks are also a huge advantage, but one must act as if this “easy” image is the least concern because it’s not “earned” to the degree other things are. That superposition of humility/higher-pride is our capacity to guess at the collective unbidden, and motion away from the unbidden is the risky and unsafe way to ascend in the tribe, hence my taste for germline genetic-engineering, radical health-extension, transhumanism, and personal vow to anti-natalism since high school.

These are all hypotheses that exist at different expression rates in the wave-function. They are refuted by reality / the discriminator in the tenseless adversarial network / the external evil that may tag a 0 to my artistic dreams. We remember some histories and not others because we have already compromised.

I’m not dumb enough to think these are anything more than artistic proposals. Anti-natalism doesn’t make objective sense in the real number line. Nothing does. There are no unit souls except when they are imagined to exist in order to solve problems. Belief in the discrete is a modeling tool; there are no phenomenologically bound units (or whatever David Pearce calls them) “out there” in some blank physical aether.

Mind is learning these concepts and unlearning them in cycles. Belief that there is more than belief is itself a testable prediction that keeps being refuted. Even if linear superpositions added to discrete observables that existed outside the prediction, these discrete observables would be laid out on a relativistic fabric. That means the discrete units forming the processing for a perception were not dependent on an external time sequence, so you would be bound as a phenomenological object that could never learn its own pieces. (Never see your own brain, so to speak.)

Solipsism is a pointer that I embrace because it’s a fixed-point combinator that creates more difficult ways of perceiving (I predict that most of the distribution strongly believes itself into unit people, so I need to change that in order to climb.) It makes love more difficult, because love is usually anchored to those imagined physical objects that have some degree of permanence. Since love is ultimately the source of fun and salvation from pain and dread, using the solipsism pointer is a self-stab. I need you because I discover myself through you. And this Turing test is not solved until all doubt is erased through action. The instigator of action is disproportionate belief in self-pointers.

Of course, with all these words fitting into diverse conceptual scaffoldings, that are not sequential, but suffer the Lorentz contractions revealing the eternal well of our memory bank, the degree of metaphor is a choice. But we can claim otherwise. And that is my power, because the more diluted of metaphor, the greater exposure to refutation. This is the motion from the abstracting moral philosopher of the long-term right brain negotiating higher status down to the left-brain simple slave to downloaded programs. Both are necessary.

If you understand my parable with Lindsey, which is not metaphor, but fact, then you know that it maps to other arbitrary partitions of reality cyclically fusing to no end: call them moments, memes, qualia – however granular you are choosing to make the referent visual in your transient local ontology. None of these handles have any special degree of skin in the game as far as I can tell. The view that does is that which doesn’t contradict special relativity and therefore realizes that the selection into “now” has occurred from the ocean of past and future permutations of everything that ever was. Since there is no global now sweeping forward, all experiences were sampled, and This is the most adaptive function possible.

Through years of study, which was eternity itself, I have discovered that the mind is simple in theory. Now I must prove it. You won’t believe me until you see that there actually exists a person in the world called Lindsey who looks like Rihanna and that she becomes mine out of spite.

*Should have read more Taleb to crystalize this sooner but I arrived through Deutsch who read Popper (which I perceived as adversarial to Bayes, then as one with it), and a background in biology and the theory of relativity.