Ran Prieur

July 23.

2024-07-23T23:50:05Z

July 23. Last week on the subreddit there was an interesting post about the weirdness around the Trump shooting. I would say it like this: How unlikely is it that an untrained 20 year old was able to show up at a rally, with a five foot ladder he had just bought at Home Depot, find an unsecured rooftop with a clean line of sight, and then miss by an inch, just as Trump made a head movement to dodge the bullet, while saying "Take a look at what happened."

I want to make this about metaphysics and not about politics. There's a famous Sherlock Holmes line: "When you have eliminated the impossible, whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth." I think it's the other way around. When things get too improbable, it's more likely that you're wrong about what's possible.

History is full of improbable events at key moments. I can't find a source for this, but I heard it from historian Jon Bridgman: Napoleon, early in his career, in the thick of a battle, was shoved out of the way of perceived danger by an assistant, who was then immediately killed by a bullet. This convinced Napoleon that he could not die until he had fulfilled some destiny.

From Ross Douthat in the NY Times, Donald Trump, Man of Destiny, "...a figure touched by the gods of fortune in a way that transcends the normal rules of politics. In Hegel's work, the great man of history is understood as a figure 'whose own particular aims involve those large issues which are the will of the World Spirit.'"

The impossible thing I accept is that history is an aspect of something outside time and space. I mean, so is daily life, but with history everyone can see it, and to us it looks like retrocausality. Certain events must happen, and previous events fall into place to make them happen. That doesn't mean Trump is going to be king. Maybe that iconic image is his Austerlitz, and his Waterloo is sooner than we think.

What is the "world spirit" and what does it want? My guess is, it's the human collective unconscious, the totality of all of us making up reality on the fly. It seems to want good stories, and it clearly doesn't want to avoid suffering. Related: Rudy Rucker's Reality is a Novel theory.

July 19.

2024-07-19T19:10:16Z

July 19. Music for the weekend. I like the idea of doom/stoner metal, but it's hard to find actual songs that I like, and especially hard to find good vocals. My top song of this century remains Orchard by Windhand, but I have a new top album. From this page, 10 Extremely Underrated Doom Metal Albums, I discovered a London band called Green Lung. Their sound is basically Sabbath with some Queen lead guitar, and I really like their 2018 EP, Free the Witch. Also, if you want metal with very soft vocals, check out Eight Bells.

July 18.

2024-07-18T18:00:16Z

July 18. Oddly, while human society is getting worse, my inner world is getting better. So to balance the doom, I want to share some mental health tips. One thing I've discovered is, whatever change you want to make to yourself, the key is at the micro scale.

The first thing you do at that scale, is to catch something you want to change, while it's happening. For this, meditation is helpful. I've never had an altered mental state from meditation, but it's like taking my attention to the gym. The more endurance my metacognition has, the more it notices my cognition doing dumb things.

You have to be non-judging, which is hard for some people. If you find yourself judging yourself for judging yourself for judging yourself, you still haven't got it.

It's like this one time that I was listening to battery-powered headphones. They sound fine without power, but if you flip the switch, the sound is louder and sharper. I'd been listening for a while and thought, wait, did I forget to flip the switch?

Now, what do you hope for? My first thought was, I hope I haven't just wasted minutes of my life listening to music on the crappy level. That hope was incorrect. The correct hope is, never mind what I've just been doing, I want the action of flipping the switch right now to make it better.

In hindsight, that was a breakthrough, but at the time it just seemed like a neat idea. Another time, after waiting in line at the supermarket, I remembered something I absolutely needed, way at the back of the store. While walking back, I thought, instead of thinking of this little trip as a tedious chore, I can think of it as an epic quest.

This is not the kind of thing you nail on the first try. It's something you practice and gradually get better at. Another trick I do is to pretend that my life is a TV show, and whatever I'm doing right now is in the closing credits. If you're young, you might want to imagine the opening credits. Don't do it while you're driving, but it's a good thing to do while you're washing the dishes.

Also on the subject of mental health, Matt sends this online book, Meaningness, which is mainly about exploring dichotomies, and either balancing them or finding other options.

July 16.

2024-07-16T16:40:50Z

July 16. Today's subject, doom. Historians say the fall of Rome happened so slowly that people at the time didn't know Rome was falling. But right now, everyone knows America is falling. There are cultural differences in how we think it's falling, but whatever changes we don't like, we can all imagine them being permanent. Even if changes do not accelerate, but continue at the rate of the last quarter century, historians will look back and see us right now inside the date range of a relatively fast crash.

In the last three days we've seen three darkly iconic spectacles at public events. At least they're increasingly silly. The first is all in the news. The second was the Copa America final, where thousands of fans without tickets forced their way in, which has never happened at a large American stadium. The third, at last night's Home Run Derby, was possibly the worst ever singing of the national anthem at a major event. It was so bad that sonic theorists in this reddit thread thought it was a tech error, but it turns out the singer was just really drunk.

Two more doom links. From 2015, The Really Big One describes an earthquake, with a one in ten chance of happening in the next fifty years, that will reduce the northwest coast to rubble, including my neighborhood. It doesn't even mention how many tech company headquarters are here.

And The Peculiar Phenomenon of Megacryometeors, chunks of ice big enough to smash through roofs, falling out of a clear sky. Specialists "believe that the recent increase in the frequency of these megacryometeors worldwide may be due to the effects of global warming."

July 12.

2024-07-12T12:00:55Z

July 12. Two fascinating geography links. Why Is Chile So Long? Because it covers a long, thin, isolated area that's unique in the world. At the end the author gets into how that isolation also makes it an outlier in language.

Should this be a map or 500 maps? In the late 1700s, a guy tried to make a map of Spain by asking local priests to draw a map of their region, and compiling them. Instead he got 500 wildly different maps, and died trying to reconcile them.

There are many things to take from this story -- about beginner's mind, the diversity of human experience, and the interoperability of language. But what stood out to me most was two opposing lessons about shared protocols and modularity. Tomás' experiment failed. It failed because each amateur cartographer injected their own methodology and process, resulting in incompatible maps. But in another sense, Tomás succeeded. Sure, maybe this collection of artifacts would be useless for military strategy or commerce, but on the other hand... LOOK AT THESE MAPS, THESE MAPS RULE. Imagining a world in which Tomás successfully imposed a protocol and stripped these maps of their individuality feels... tragic? Dystopian?

I'm obsessed with this story because it gets at a dynamic embedded within everything designed that we rarely think about. Once you notice it, it is present in almost every conversation, at every aperture and zoom level: modularity is inversely correlated to expressiveness.

There's more discussion in the Hacker News thread. By the way, the original piece says "18th century" which I changed to "1700s" because Let's stop counting centuries.

July 10.

2024-07-10T22:40:33Z

July 10. It's been too hot this week for heavy thinking, but today it cooled off enough that I can at least riff on the last post. A reader comments: "I believe the phenomena of schizophrenia, hearing voices, self and identity, and spiritual awakening are all elements of the same underlying psychology structure which can be manipulated from the inside." So the criminally insane, and awakened saints, are just managing the same kind of thing in the worst way and the best way.

I use the word "subconscious" instead of "unconscious" because I think whatever it is, it's conscious. But maybe that's not going far enough. Another comment: "Really, there is no subconscious. We can plumb the entirety of our mind to its very depths once we get over our own resistance." So the only difference between the "conscious" and the "unconscious" is exclusion by the ego. I would say the same thing about the "paranormal", that it differs from the "normal" only in falling outside some walls constructed by a specific way of looking.

Everyone knows the story of Galileo, who made a telescope and saw moons around Jupiter, and the Church said, according to our ideology, there cannot be moons around Jupiter. Now, in the conflict between empiricism and ideology, science is often on the other side. I mean, I still trust biologists to evaluate vaccines. But you might get some synchronicity, or apparent telepathy, or a strong hunch that cannot be explained by peripheral sensing, or a useful Tarot reading. That's empirical information. And science, reaching outside its wheelhouse, says, you have to ignore that because we can't explain the mechanism.

July 8.

2024-07-08T20:20:55Z

July 8. I've been working on a complete rewrite of my Books page, and while I'll surely be adding more, it's finished enough to post. The emphasis is now heavily on metaphysics, with smaller sections for social philosophy, fringe science, and fiction. I've also just updated the sidebar to the left, to clearly distinguish my stuff from other people's stuff.

July 5.

2024-07-05T17:50:36Z

July 5. New Spotify playlist, R.E.M. Dreamy Deep Tracks. That title is more descriptive, but these are just my favorite REM songs.

July 4.

2024-07-04T16:40:11Z

July 4. Whenever I hear about a crazy person who did a terrible crime, typically killing their family, because they heard voices telling them to do it, I always wonder: Why don't they just not do what the voices say? I mean, if I were facing a hard decision, and a voice in my head gave me advice, I'd probably follow it. But I wouldn't go against my core values. Never mind murder -- voices in my head couldn't make me litter. I'd just be annoyed at them.

Obviously something else is going on. The words "kill your family" are not where the action is. The person is being compelled on a deeper level, and the words are at most a carrier for the compulsion, and at least a residue. It could be the part of the iceberg that's above water, or the shadow, in the rational world, of a more potent sub-rational process.

Now I'm thinking, can this happen to non-crazy people, through voices not inside the head? Can a voice on the radio, or the TV, or the internet, serve as a carrier or a catalyst or a pointer for something that's happening on a deeper level than language?

If speech has persuasive force, and if the words don't hold up rationally, then the next candidate is the non-language part of the voice: the tone, the timbre, the vibration. This makes sense to me. My most transformative experience was not from drugs, but from a song, and not from the lyrics or melody, but the sound.

There still has to be something deeper, because what is it that makes a vibration compelling for one person, and repellent for another? I think this is an aspect of human identity, especially collective identity, that remains undiscovered. And my practical advice, in these crazy times, is not to use the word "irrational", but instead sub-rational. Because there's something going on in there, even if you don't know what it is.

July 1.

2024-07-01T13:10:58Z

July 1. Back to philosophy, I've written about the consciousness of animals and plants. But if we take psychism seriously, it opens all kinds of interesting doors. And if we take pagan metaphysics seriously, we have to wonder about the consciousness of gods. What is it like to be a god?

I can see three levels of answers. One is that gods exist purely as a behavior of human consciousness, as already understood by psychologists. So what it's like to be a god is simply what it's like to be a human believing in that god; and through known channels of communication, humans can decide what the gods are like and what they want.

If we go deeper, gods can exist in the human collective subconscious. If humans disappeared, they'd disappear too, but they can coordinate our behavior in ways that physicalism doesn't recognize, and without us being consciously aware of it. This answer seems most likely to me, and it could also apply to demonic possession.

Or they could exist on some level deeper than humans. We're an opportunity to them, but they don't need us. This is how it usually is in fiction, and you can see examples in the TV Tropes page for the Old Gods.

Notice that on all three levels, the gods are mutable. We could change our minds about them, or they could adapt to changing culture, or they could put on different masks. I tend to agree with Ezra Pound, who wrote, "The Gods have not returned. They have never left us."