All i’ve ever wanted

I do not feel in the least embarrassed, self-conscious, or regretful about any of my writing on this blog. It’s all for me and noone else.

All i’ve ever wanted was to learn, to go to college and make something of myself. Being born into a poor family with parents suffering from psychiatric disorders didn’t really provide me with the kickstart I needed to aim my being at success; in fact, it inhibited me from ever considering the possibility that I would even attempt to attend college.

I hate sounding like a victim. I hate speaking in a manner that could be mistaken as merely playing the victim card, but as I look back, I cannot help but conclude that the deck was severely stacked against me. Growing up with a mother with bipolar disorder and a father with severe, untreated PTSD meant that I suffered a lot of psychological abuse and trauma I wasn’t even aware of. I struggled with anger issues all through that time and still do, to this day. I absolutely hated school. I was bullied a lot and never made a lot of friends. My only outlet was drawing. I literally wished death upon my parents because I thought it would end my suffering at home.

The conflict in my home never stopped. Two fully grown adults and one child quarreled continually. The only kind of stability I knew was isolation, alone at night. It was peaceful because there was no fear, no yelling. This tension mounted for years until my father kicked me out. Having never taught me anything about how to live, how to be a decent person, and never contributing to the well-being of my existence in any other way than merely keeping me alive while I lived with them, he now callously jettisons me from their house and expects me to be able to fend for myself. If anything, he taught me how not to live. In all honesty, i’ve never met a more pathetic, cowardly person in my entire life. Having never taught me anything, he finds himself wanting a relationship with me in his old age, and places the burden entirely upon me. I inherited the most defunct, buggy, maladaptive model for a relationship from them. No wonder I find it difficult to sustain relationships.

I am affectionate in my own way; i’ve become fluent linguistically. I’ve practiced the art of poetry and writing to great personal satisfaction. My dearest friends appreciate this trait and I find common ground and love among them.

I successfully moved out and got into a relationship for a while, and even after she revealed herself as a cancerous, cheating bitch, I stayed with her for 4 years, desperately clinging to the only other person who seemed to love me. I was utterly, romantically infatuated with her; since I voluntarily cut her out of my life, I feel somewhat less so. I betrayed my oldest highschool friends for her, opting to move out with her instead of stay and live with them. This created a rift that has been mostly repaired. After this, I moved in with another highschool friend and he slowly revealed himself to be a bit of a cold-blooded sociopath. He plays psychological games with people for his own amusement; one’s displays of vulnerability with an assumption of trust are leveraged by him into ammunition to attack with. Little by little, everything I revealed to him out of trust was leveraged against me to make himself seem superior in the most passive-aggressive way. It was quite awful. Thankfully, around the dissolution of that friendship, I reconnected with a friend I had only made a few years prior.

This friend was the light of my life for a long time. She is perhaps the most solid and endearing of friends, only equal to that of Jeff himself. What I learned and am still learning from her has paved the way for even more wonderful people to come into my life. Little by little, in this manner, I am lifted out of a vast gulf of darkness. I am learning what true friendship means, what it means to be human, the plaintive sincerity of the plight and redemptive qualities as a mortal among other mortals.

Despite, over the course of this long journey, having never achieved any real material success (i’m actually in debt), I’ve made strides at recovering from my initial circumstances and the new sources of strife i’ve had to work through.

As I progress, I uncover ever deeper layers of misery to scavenge from and repair. I am again in the abysses of this twilit world; Their arousal seems spontaneous and disconnected to what I do. There is always suffering. That is the default setting. I wish at least I could find a way to plateau on a relatively stable perspective. That requires specific knowledge. I must know enough to climb that high in the first place, and I must further apply that knowledge in creative ways that directly address what it is that I am contending with at that moment. Not only that, but I must also do this in a coordinated way, attacking enough specific points at once. Otherwise, I won’t be able to make it at all. I’ll stay in this horrific state of idle, comatose complacency. Worse than pain, than death; a conscious appeal to all of existence to choose stubborn decay sitting in one place instead of a virtuous attempt at overcoming.

The immense anger I have at my circumstances is almost unbearable. If I thought of it, if I think too much, I wouldn’t be able to sleep. It doesn’t come from any violent impulse at all. It’s just outrage that I must be unfortunate enough to have this heaped upon me, that through ignorance, I really have suffered immensely. It’s a kind of outrage that I can’t see through, that I don’t have the knowledge to see through. It’s a breakdown in communication among systems. I try to verbalize my outrage, and I realize that information and communication would have solved most of my problems. At least, I simplify it such in the most abstract way. I didn’t even ask for the mind that I have and a criticism I often get is that I make things too complicated or that I sound pretentious! If I could tie one of them to a chair, I wouldn’t torture them. I would just force them to have a real conversation.

Even at this moment, the beast slips back beneath the waves, back into the unconscious depths. I’ve but circumscribed some of its shadowy surface features into symbols upon a page. Next time, I hope I will have the wisdom to take a serious, long look at it. If it is truly my own self-master I should work at and worry about and not most outside circumstances, no matter how much through my own ignorance I am bombarded by awful people in a fractured, chaotic society, then I am truly unstoppable.


Cauterized with conversation

A string of strange events occurred today. Advance, retreat, advance, retreat. . That is the pattern that learning anything important follows. Fuck the way anyone else does anything. I would say that it’s all variations on this theme. You stumble forward, sometimes tumbling somewhat farther than you think you can tolerate, and you lay on the ground in agony, knowing you’ll make a bigger, more informed, and as a consequence, more controlled and purposeful fall as a result. Learning to get good at failing is a worthy goal until you finally succeed. It creates psychological fortitude, which is very much needed to succeed at anything. Blind, lucky success can’t even be held on to by someone who lacks the right temperament.

I didn’t expect the hang-out with my friend and his new girlfriend to go the way it did. We went to a drum circle. She seemed somewhat clingy to both of us. To me in a more hesitant way, and to my friend whom she is dating, in the typical way you would expect. Both were quite off-putting. I got the chance to talk to her alone for a span of time. The whole time I talked to anyone that day, I was dead-focused. Almost zero distraction; I was really absorbing everything about the interaction, aware on multiple levels. Unfortunately, or maybe it’s actually necessarily, I also do this on an emotional level. I tend to absorb the emotions of others with startling ease. I do so without even being aware of it until later. I did this with her neuroticism and anxiety (for which she’s prescribed kolonopin), and only registered it this morning when I was on the verge of a panic attack or anxiety attack while driving. It started when I began to feel claustrophibic, in the psychological sense, while at home. It is quite frustrating to not get a peaceful morning to myself without my parents yelling at the animals at intervals throughout the day and into the early hours of the morning.

The awareness that I was an empath cut through it and I felt good, realizing how good of a presence in my life Jenn is. I decided to call her and just thank her, but we ended up having coffee at her place. It is always a deepening of presence, a heightening of awareness when we sit down and lock minds. I began by telling her how thankful I was that she was in my life and told her briefly about the pendulum entrainment and how it related to the concept of Emergent Leadership. The one person in the group that exhibits the greatest leadership qualities is the one who can regulate their own nervous system the best. Just like the largest pendulum synchronizing all of the smaller ones to it, the person with the greatest nervous system regulation ability will entrain all others in the group to their emotional level. This consolidates focus, creativity, and intelligence, multiplying potential to something greater than the mere sum of the individuals composing it.

After that, we dramatically switched gears. We started talking about LSD, and shared experiences with the psychotropic. Somewhat uncomfortably for me, she alluded to sex, but I don’t think I gave away how that made me feel. She eventually suggested that I meet and hang out with her new boyfriend. I told her that, in light of the way I was feeling, I was going to be very cautious and that it probably wouldn’t happen any time soon.

We started talking about our time together. It must be stressed that her invitation to listen to me and let me express what needed to be expressed was both deeply endearing, and selflessly compassionate. It makes me love her more and more. It deepens our friendship. I told her that there was no one like her and she responded by saying that it was a metric she could not trust because so many other people she casually dated had said the same thing. I wanted to make it simultaneously clear to her that it wasn’t precisely what I meant and that I was over it. I didn’t deal with all the emotional material that arose. I merely understand that we don’t have that spark necessary to enable dating to work. That much I have acknowledged. I basically made her aware of some missteps that she wasn’t aware of, mostly so that I could just let the emotion out, so that it could be spoken. I realized that I was angrier and more hurt than I had acknowledged to myself when I told her that I was on the verge of accepting her previous rejections of my advancements towards her when she approached me and asked for a threesome. I think that was one of the most painful things for me; to have her break up with me after she approached me after her previous rejections. Two more things at play were how I perceived her relationship with her ex, Joe, how they negatively influenced our communication, and the contradictions inherent in the polyamorous relationship structure (the idea that the primary relationship can exist but that when one person takes precedence over another, that person should be cut out. Joe had been doing this to me the entire time, but when I mentioned it, Jenn merely told me that I was the secondary, which further angered me). While she herself, independent of Joe’s influence over her, felt that her and I weren’t meant to date, she used Joe’s approach and words which made it seem to me that he was directly influencing how she was feeling towards me instead of it genuinely coming from her.

We eventually cleared all of this up, coming to the conclusion that I have abandonment issues. As far as her flaws go, I think that she just wants acceptance from me that she’s only human and she’ll make mistakes. Even through the emotions that the conversation arose in me, I accept that. There is something so beautiful in the way she said it. I marvel that humanity has produced such a stunning specimen. I also made it clear to her that I love her regardless of the fact that we don’t have any type of romantic relationship, and that my definition and experience of love is very different from hers or anyone elses’ for that matter. I ran out of steam completely at that point. I needed to go. I was at capacity for how much revelation and discussion I could take, how much I could feel and still keep my composure. Only music, beauty, and piercing sadness have ever made me cry. Joy as well. I cry with joy more than anything else. What a great time and place to exist in. What a great friend to share life with.

Conversations, framing, attention span, application

I had the most compelling conversation with Jenn today and decided that I should maximize the generative quality of ideas and write about it immediately. Regarding attention span, i’m not quite sure about where I stand in regards to the norm and my own personal ideal. How is it thought of? Is it thought of categorically or generally? How many ways can it be parsed to be applied to as a useful metric for general intelligence?

It has been a monumental struggle to get my attention span back up to what I consider normal levels. I attribute this to my meditation training. In relation to most people’s attention span, I consider my own to be astronomically superior. I find that to be distracted yields the emotional reaction of rage. Comparatively, as a child, I had laser-like focus, and I could focus for hours. It was a powerfully rewarding feeling to write and hyper-focus, to feel the compelling pull of an idea, and to be an active participant in its shaping. It felt more like the focus was important.

Whatever the case may be, I have found it to be of utmost importance to push back against the culture of instant gratification and distraction in perpetuity that we, as a culture, are faced with now. Everyone has instant access to the storehouse of almost all of humanity’s knowledge. This gives rise to an interesting paradox that may be solved with group goals and intentions. An individual who endeavors to learn as much as possible will be lost in a sea of information, by and large biologically disconnected with the hardwired-in apparatus for its genesis and synthesis. One can become encyclopedic in terms of data. One bumps up against the sheer limits of information intake and sublimation, which is in turn merely a product of lifestyle, psychological disposition, general health, ect. Categorizing, applying, and, in short, sublimating this enormous amount of information successfully into wisdom, useful application, and otherwise, any physical expression, is another problem entirely.

The purpose of a corporation may very well change, depending upon the product. Get a team of people functioning at the heights of their cognitive potential at the very pinnacle of physical, emotional, mental, and spiritual health, and a corporation may very well bloom from a proverbial bare, rotting tree stump, which serves as the prevalent symbol for the less noticeable, but farther reaching and more insidious product of their dynamism, into the next iteration of the Library of Alexandria. Bridge the substantial gap between for-profit corporation, and Institute of Higher Learning, and you make the next big leap in instantiating the infrastructure for the Post-Human.

I grasped at the birth pangs of what could be a more intelligent, wiser, more dynamic, in a singular conversation with my best friend in the whole world. We dove deeper than we ever had. We covered familiar ground, as we tend to rehash the same topics. But, with each turn of the wheel in this cycle, we build upon them more and more, and in doing so, come to understand one another’s minds in terms of thinking process, personal dispositions, what we each struggle with emotionally and mentally, and somehow never hit bottom with them. There is such a powerful birthing of knowledge in our time well-spent, locked into one another. I cannot stress how rejuvinative it was to sit and talk, looking into one another’s eyes the whole time, and speak of ONLY meaningful things. We gather momentum as we go along, the force of the speed splinters the topic into more and more concepts and ideas that each magnify into magnificent detail until a feeling of flow engages and carries us along with even greater momentum.

Flow states are triggered, for me, by conversation. I am stimulated by the unadulterated and unperturbed focus mutually shared by myself and another person. I have forgotten how rare a commodity this, how rarely this transpires. The great majority of most human interaction I either witness or take part in seems to me so fractured, so diffused of a sense of responsibility, and so sparse its population of great or even very minimally good ideas, that it feels almost meaningless. Not necessarily meaningless but it renders them as a matter of course, that one must just go through the motions. Conversation has become a social decorum as opposed to the main mode of the conveyance of ideas and wisdom. We’ve deviated into the fracturing of the human with the machinations of the digital age. We get one aspect of the human in an engagement only, or multiple, disconnected aspects of many. One communicates through text, or through voice, while ignoring the presence of someone one stands or sits right next to. One reads the words in posts on status updates alone in a room. This disordering of the elements of human interaction not only misalign the meaning we derive from those interactions, but it diffuses the sense of responsibility we feel towards one another.



When I was younger, I spent almost every Thanksgiving and Christmas at my Aunt and Uncle’s house. As I grew up, my family became more and more fractured, with my female cousin’s marriage disintegrating and word getting out that she had suffered a decade of abuse at the hands of her husband. It was a very confusing moment when I first saw her after the news broke. She looked at me with this desperate optimism and said “i’m fine”. While I admire her strength and perseverance, I could tell she was anything but ok.

When my father’s mother died, Maw-maw, she got the wrong impression of me, that I was only after some of the inheritance. In truth, I was desperate at the time for something good to happen, and was suspicious that they were the ones being greedy. This mutual distrust has left a permanent rift between my cousin and I. All I see online from her are pictures and posts either about her sons, whose military careers she’s extremely proud of, and her string of dead-beat boyfriends. Occasionally, i’ll hear about medical problems of hers. I think she should seek counseling, but it’s not my place to tell her that. I’ve contented myself with just keeping distance between us, which I feel, at the moment, is best.

As far as the rest of the family goes, I don’t think much of them anymore. My cousin Alvin has come to visit us with his father twice, and both times, i’ve given him extensive health advice which I hope he applies in his life. I have a lot of hope for him personally. I have always wanted our family to be close and not let anything tear it apart. There isn’t much to keep it together apart from death, I suppose. I don’t look on it as a true family. A true family is something like Jenn and I and the bond we share. That is something I never want to end. I often hope that it’s the only truly eternal human bond that I actually have. I once thought of this with Katherine. .  But I could no longer tolerate how she was affecting me.

Real families are beyond space and time, aspects of some greater consciousness fractured in a state of dreaming as separate personalities filling out and being expressed through the capacities of the biology they are held manifest in expression by. When the transition occurs and the biology breaks down, becomes non-functional, the gathered experience, having been quantum-encoded, emerges back into the plane where the totality of consciousness can wake up a bit more with the accumulated experience of itself while splintered into different personalities.

The being becomes, more and more, seeping roots of awareness ever deeper into the basement of this reality until it crosses over into different dimensions, and grows roots up into the very most magnanimous and immense-of-scale expressions possible in this reality until nothing but consciousness and mind exist in a cohesive and unified way.


New Creative Direction

I have always had a creative outlet in my life. When I was very young, I would draw and write poetry, sculpt, make clay figures, build with legos, and basically create whatever I could from whatever medium I had available. It always felt like something that was vitally necessary for me to do. I would often make time specifically for whatever it was that I was possessed to do, and as a consequence, I wouldn’t have relationships, very many friends, and would neglect many of my other responsibilities in life such as going to get groceries, paying bills, attending to other obligations of that nature.

I am now at a point in my life where I have stalled creatively. None of my outlets are working at the moment, nor do they configure into my life as it is very prominently. There has never been a point in my life where I questioned the veracity of writing and poetry. It comes and goes of its own accord; I let my relationship to poetry specifically stand as it is because i’ve never put any pressure on myself to make it anything other than what it is. I’ve not sought to make money or win acclaim from it. The practice of writing poetry has, is, and will always be, deeply fulfilling. I’ve come up with some material i’m genuinely proud of.

As far as writing goes, before I heard of the future authoring program, I never wanted to do anything more with it than write short stories. I never excelled at this. My organization wasn’t up to par and I would get lost in details. My “stories” were hyper detail oriented and only had  very loose plots, often lacking in elegance, over-complex, and with one or two-dimensional characters. They were basically unreadable.

I’ve drawn for much of my life, starting at a very early age and continuing up until a couple of years ago. Around the age of 7 or 8, I remember drawing intensely for 4 or 5 hours a day, making studies of objects or just drawing from imagination. I would ignore everything around me, including eating when my mother called me for food. I would continue to draw throughout highschool.

I became obsessed with metaphysics when I graduated, but I still drew quite a bit, even in the midst of that. Both pursuits, metaphysical and artistic, were only heightened when I met Katherine. We would practice both together on a daily basis. I still miss those days. They were much more simple, if not irresponsible, when I had someone who I thought loved me no matter my station in life, and would be ok with me practicing my craft all day when I got off from work. I think Katherine has much more talent than I do, and she will eventually sell her work for money if she continues to hone her craft.

Around that time, probably mid-way through my time with Katherine at our first apartment, I began to feel a shift towards something musical. When living with Jeff and Billy (I don’t count Tammi; she’s basically a parasite). I owned a guitar and a bass. I really enjoyed both of them. It’s surreal now, thinking back to my level of skill and how utterly disproportionate it was to my deep fascination with sound. It didn’t matter what it sounded like. The capacity of that strange instrument to make sounds normally inaccessible to people in their daily lives was all that it took to marshal my curiosity and fascination into a focused torrent, to bare down relentlessly on all who were unfortunate enough to be within ear-shot.

This may sound naive, but there was a purity in the naked sounds produced that made me think that I was speaking in a different language. I know this is often said of music now, and probably not with the depth of understanding it deserves, but I felt and experienced what it meant before I ever heard it vocalized or expressed in popular culture, before I went to school for it.

I think that’s the same purity of language I felt when I wrote poetry. There was something powerfully expressive in shifting context and word-painting, in using language in a very unconventional way, that gave rise, at least to me, to the momentum necessary to heft that heavy focusing lens of awareness away from its default position and slowly push it onto alignment with another facet of language, highlighting a wholly new conceptual landscape. Here we reach the point where we push up against the limits of conventional language to describe the internal human experience.

In this respect, I cannot decide what is more evocative: music or language. I’ve had very powerful experiences with both, and indeed rely quite a bit on both for a certain kind of sustenance. That particular kind of nourishment reached its height of its concentration in the works of Bach, Tarrega, Ernesto Garcia De Leon, Sor, Mario Castelnuovo Tedesco, Roland Dyens, and Sabicas. As far as literature is concerned, I refer to Walt Whitman, Dylan Thomas, Jack Kerouac, and Fyodor Dostoevesky. They are equals as far as i’m concerned.

I have reached the point where the only thing I have left as far as creative outlets are blogging. I have to force myself to do it. I don’t think ‘force’ is quite the right word. I would say that it’s a monumental struggle, but it really isn’t. I find that it’s very easy. It just requires pushing up against and maintaining force against the momentary psychological resistance I always experience when I embark on something that has yet to be instilled as a pattern in my life.


The Voice

I’ll listen to the voice. I’ll just trust it. I won’t argue with it. Lets see where this leads. Could it be possible that I have some aspect of my psyche that orders things beyond the breadth of my ability to see and think rationally, that, if I were to listen to, could guide me down the path of synchronous events, further expanding my capacity for non-local perception and direct mind-reality interface?


Recovering from Depression; Riding the waveform

I got hit by the Flu about a month ago, and became horribly depressed. Things haven’t been the same since. Huge changes have cascaded in since that happened, changing me in ways I cannot account for. This is the first time I feel the necessary strength to actually write about it.

  1. I quit school. It wasn’t a case of just up and quitting. I had been thinking about it for a few years. I quit music therapy almost immediately after I started it because I could clearly see that I wasn’t cut out for it and it would not fulfill me as a person. It never linked science and music in a satisfying way, nor could the way in which psychotherapeutic disciplines were knitted together with music ever make a big enough change to satisfy or impress me. I felt I must study something more fundamental. That is where answers will really be rendered. What should I study? Astronomy, Astrophysics, Particle Physics, Mathematics, Chemistry, Biology, Nutrition even?
  2. An old friend, who never really left my life, came into its focus as I grappled with the internal changes. I fell in love with her immediately. People have their own circumstances to work with, coming to their own understanding of things in their own time, so my feelings weren’t reciprocated for a long time. She is a truly impressive individual; She’s humble, compassionate, an intellectual visionary, and very beautiful.

The strange part is that we came back into contact very shortly after I quit school. Ok, I am tired of narrating.

My capacity to feel has awoken after laying dormant for so long. Before the flu, before the depression, it had been years since I felt sadness, the need to cry. It has always been anger, very deep anger. Anger is easier to leverage into motivation than sadness is. I now think that sadness is the call to pull back and examine your actions. Being pushed forward with blind anger, suddenly being hobbled, and then succumbing to depression when one is unable to enact that release valve for the feeling of anger, quickly inverts it back on itself. So, I had been running on the momentum of anger for a few years, perhaps longer.

I still don’t understand why. What was I hiding from myself? What was I not admitting? What was I compensating for?

If I was motivated by Anger to do all that I did, and realize that the path it was propelling me down was in vain, what can be my motivation now? I cannot find a stabilizing answer. I can only tug at loose strings and blindly feel along its strangely textured surface in coffee shops, on errant walks, and on the interminable drives between loved and hated cities with music, coffee, and cigarettes.



Holotropic Breathwork

I’ve always been interested in altered states of consciousness, even before I knew how to articulate it. The naked feeling is that there is always something more, a bottom floor to reality accessible by the human mind.

Jung called this the universal unconscious, and he recognized it in native cultures and Shamanic traditions. I go somewhat beyond this. Whereas archetypal symbols apprehended in a trance state that bind the individual to a tribal identity through rituals involving drugs, pain, feats of endurance, I envisioned entering such a state of consciousness through merely willing it.

What if you could induce the most profound states of consciousness, entheogenic states, by merely thinking them into being? The realm of conceptual possibilities on the table is greatly expanded in our own time. We are capable of more. We understand more. The most formidable barriers we come up against are always that which we comfortably reside in that define the current zeitgeist. We groupthink the unknown future into terrifying dystopian cocktails, and assume away the possibility of expanding conceptual space to truly brush upon something original on an individualistic basis.

Revolutionary thought is not born for its own sake. Often revolutionary thought is confused with raveous, egoic contrarianism, or untempered angst. Those who try to be original fail in their first intent with doing something for the sake of originality. As if no one has tried that before. What is the sum of the wasted caloric energy of the collective brains striving in vain for an original thought? This drive for originality, i think, is the unconscious, unawakened will to transcendence that is the defining characteristic of consciousness for human beings. Truly revolutionary though merely is, apropos, born of a visionary capacity in an individual, and if enacted correctly, enriches the world we live in by spurring on our prodigious evolutionary lineage as curious, restless creatures.

I think I have stumbled upon my own vision, a cornerstone of transcendence and biohacking. Alas, It was thought of before I thought of it! I still savor with pride the fact that I had the maturity to recognize it in the form that I did so early. I am stung that it took me 14 years of searching to find the physical analog to my thought.

(more to come)


Superintelligence and the Post-Human existence

I often ponder our place in the Universe at large.

There are many angles to probe this compelling idea from. The first angle came about in the mystic and esoteric circles. We are part of a grand cosmological scheme, a Universe unfolding its capacities to the extreme, spanning from the very most fundamental inert matter to the highest ordering of that matter into a self-referential biological matrix and beyond.

Is intelligence an accident? Is the gradient of complexity from hydrogen to complex organic matter a neutral, natural, consequence of the convergence of fundamental principles of the operation of the Universe? Is that the essence of existence, or is that perception a product of a thinking, highly organized brain evolved to see patterns?

Given our place, we can see only imperfectly back into history and forward in time. The larger the number of variables we seek to integrate and make sense of, the more we tax our faculties, and thus the farther off course the end result would be if we were able to compare it with the actual outcome far in the future. The trajectory of technology is simply too counter-intuitive for us to grasp.

Given the pattern I see, capability is compoundable and scalable. Forgive how sophomoric this sounds. We will begin with the element Hydrogen. This reactive gas accumulates in space and is considered the most abundant element in the universe. Under the right conditions, they fuse into higher elements, giving off tremendous amounts of heat and light, becoming stars. The convergence of gravity, matter, magnetic and tidal forces create an entirely new hierarchy of elemental organization that previously never existed. This, in turn, gives rise to more and more complex organization. At each turn in the evolution of matter, the speed increases while the time scale shrinks by orders of magnitude.

As a massive star burns hydrogen, it is also fusing hydrogen into helium. Over time, the helium will fuse into higher elements such as carbon, oxygen, nickle, calcium, ect. At some point, the star exhausts its energy and supernovas, fusing these elements into yet higher ones such as iron.

A planet with specific conditions is needed to continue up the hierarchy of complexity. This includes amino acids, proteins, and all organic compounds requiring the energies of heat, light, gravity, electromagnetism in amounts within a relatively small and controlled margin. Molecular engines such as DNA and RNA make this process more self-directed and recursive creating a controlled trajectory for further elaboration of complex molecular arrangements.

The brain is the crowning achievement at this stage in the game, representing the very most advanced and sophisticated evolution of matter. Our brains are exponentially more recursive and broad a biological learning machine, repeating the pattern of augmentation of its own capacities.

We will soon breach the next turn in spiral and create something far more advanced than us. We will create a superintelligence.

Now that I have illustrated the pattern inherent in the unfolding of the universe, of which we are brief pinpricks of light before its great eye, I would like to bring it full circle and then elaborate on the concept of a Superintelligence.

First, a definition: “Let an untraintelligent machine be defined as a machine that can far surpass all the intellectual activities of any man however clever. Since the design of machines is one of these intellectual activities, an ultraintelligent machine could design even better machines; there would then unquestionably be an intelligence explosion, and the intelligence of man would be far left behind. Thus the first ultraintelligent machine is the last invention that man need ever make, provided that the machine is docile enough to tell us how to keep it under control”.

With the advent of symbol systems of language and mathematics, we far surpass all animals and remain the apex predator on this planet. The concept of a predator may well soon be outdated as the social and relational paradigm between intelligent, self-aware beings shifts into something far more expansive. The capacities of this next-order-of-magnitude intelligence may well be as relatable and comprehensible to us as our lives are to bacteria.

How will we change in the coming decades? The recursive improvement process rests on conscious minds that consciously evolve, as opposed to the old system that relied on molecular engines such as DNA to select for adaptation in an environment for survival. This system cascaded in complexity until it was able to support conscious life forms. Now we are able to draw from it. Intelligence compounds upon molecular machines. The new input for one cycle of growth is this new intelligence with all of the information distilled down from the older paradigm into only that which has worked the most effectively. We are approaching a new ordering of matter, and thus intelligence, that is post-biological. 

All of our technology is at this point is more closely linking machine learning and computing with an increasingly nuanced understanding of our biological selves.

Part 2 coming



Escape Velocity

I’ve been making a lot of beneficial changes in my life lately.

Giving up refined sugar: I have been wanting to do this for so long. I’ve been a slave to it for 30 years. It’s presence and untold, unquantifiable damage done to me will probably take a while to completely reverse. It almost feels like i’ve been living a lie for the entire time. How could have I gone so long thinking that it was OK, that it wasn’t having a negative effect? I think it was because I was born into it, began drinking sodas and coffee with sugars at an early age. I got addicted to it and it ran my life and mind. There was no sufficiently strong force to decouple and reorient me from it. I think it destroyed me academically. It destroyed and inhibited my social growth as well. I just got my teeth fixed. That was the absolute biggest change. I was afraid to smile. It seems foreign to me now.. I suppose I hadn’t thought of it too much, because it was so horrible. Knowing that I have a birthright that is much higher that what it is I am under the influence now.

Exercise and Running:  One of my new goals is to run an ultramarathon. I was inspired first by Mark Sisson, and then by Dean Karnazes. I read the book Born To Run by Christopher McDougall and learned about karnazes. From then on, I decided that, since we have that genetic lineage, and most people should be capable of it, that it would be a worthy goal. In fact, it would almost be a goal to end all goals. It would be a pinnacle of physical fitness and thus cognitive performance. Running has taken me on an interesting journey thus far.

I consider running a primarily Shamanic activity. It’s a whole body ritual communing with the deepest, most primal self: that of fear, aggression, the contemplation of mortality and the great hunt. We hunt and are hunted. The experience of death, dying, and rebirth; the turning of the wheel of consciousness. I get this from a couple of incredible experiences while running, while pushing myself to the brink as one does in Ecstatic Shamanism.

Get Genetic Testing done: I have only just sent my sample in and will have to wait 12 or so weeks for the results. This test will give me the raw data for some 60,000 base pairs and potential gene polymorphisms. I don’t have too terribly much else to say about this at the moment.

Going Paleo, Going Ketogenic: This is a natural bi-product of giving up sugar. This repairs the damage I did to myself with chronic abuse through consumption of sugar. I have gained  a lot of my concentration and cognitive prowess back since going ketogenic. I don’t want to expound upon the science of it here. That’s not the purpose.

Visiting a counselor: This wonderful woman I am seeing and discussing my problems with is helping me to bring all of this full-circle. I see the wonderful purpose and sadness for the existence of the psychologist. It is insane that there must be people employed whose purpose is to find the best possible ways to communicate on every psychological front to the widest range of people possible in order to help them become more attuned with themselves.

This tells me that society is not geared towards the imperative of self-actualization for the individual. it is its own beast and jungle. We have created this volatile new organism, augmenting and inhabiting it as we ourselves grow our own population. What an unruly, capricious ecology we have designed, and we cannot seem to consolidate our interests beyond the concentric circles of social organization because we lack an overarching intellect to apply the vast amount of information necessary. It would be enough to agree on ONE THING: Our intrinsic humanity, our precarious place on this planet in the greater cosmos and the necessity for rapid advancements of technology to transcend immediate and longer-term threats.

Higher Order Conceptualization: At this very moment, at the end of a string of broad, fundamental changes that are still unfolding, I wonder what new conceptual ground I can uncover. What new possibilities are in store for me. That which lies beyond my understanding, grasping it and applying it to my life, is the key to my success. I am trying to express a very strong idea within myself. A new, very complex concept has emerged in my mind. I should say, it has not fully emerged. It is as if i were a populace and people-I were watching from different points along the coast, from different heights and angles, a massive object rising from the surf in the middle of the ocean. The great bulge of the ocean, the water running off it in rivulets, and the seeming inability of those multiple perspectives to be consolidated into one image of a thing not completely emerged, prevent me from acting on it as it is: A totality. A truly life-changing epiphany. Power mounts within me. I am getting my brain back.