Progress! We can kill millions in a moment

Daily Mail: Be afraid. Be very afraid.

Putin is killing Ukrainians and Russians to stop The West / Ukraine killing Russians and Ukrainians. The West armed Ukraine to become NATO’s third largest army (after US and Turkey) because Russia is a threat (or maybe not). Russia feels threatened by The West’s insistence that Russia is a threat. Russia apparently tried to join NATO to ease tensions, twice. NATO said no, twice. (What’s the point of NATO if Russia is an ally?)

If I were Russia, I would feel threatened.

So then war, because Russian-speaking Ukrainians may not speak Russian in Ukraine and Putin Is Evil. And perhaps also because there’s no point to the infamous MIC (military industrial complex) unless there are regular wars with reliably belligerent enemies, or with unwitting scapegoats who can be made enemies.

Thinking beyond these obvious tropes, what historical vectors were set in motion after Russia declared that Ukraine joining NATO is a Red Line? It was surely clear to Russia that The West’s NATO Machine must expand ever eastwards. Unstoppable force meets immovable object? What can Russia realistically do to protect its perceived interests other than reabsorb Ukraine so as to keep NATO out, thereby preventing NATO from being at Russia’s borders, there where it really matters, but thereby putting NATO at Russia’s new expanded borders? Quite the conundrum.

What would happen if NATO were to defeat Russia, then China? What is the point of NATO’s existence after it defeats all its (required) enemies? Needing war to exist, should NATO set out to defeat all enemies until it no longer has a raison d’etre (other than alien invasion)? Would total victory be its death knell? 

In a similar vein, if the WEF/globalists were to control all nations on earth, what then? Would the ‘elites’ be content and sane at last with nothing left to do but loaf about on expensive jets and yachts? Would we fractious proles finally be respectful, obedient underlings?

When you win the ‘complete control’ you always dreamed of, what happens next?

Is utopia dystopia?

Israel/Palestine is just as ugly, just as dumb, just as horrific. What if Israel kicks all Palestinians out? Would that mean lasting peace? Or would Israel’s neighbours feel existentially threatened? Would Israel feel threatened by its neighbours feeling existentially threatened by its existence?

In Germany, the vice president of the SPD feels threatened by the AfD. She has joined calls to ban the ‘far right’ party. To protect democracy and celebrate diversity, we must first ensure we are all on the same page, and censure those whose views threaten us. But then those deemed threatening by The Good Guys feel threatened. People tend to think they’re the good guys, that those odd folks over there who speak funny can’t be trusted.

Though there are layers of intellectualising and party-political rhetoric between us and the core, it seems to boil down to the drab banality of human groups mistrusting each other because they can’t not. We are very adept at perceiving ‘fundamental’ differences in each other – because skin colour or ethnicity or culture or religion or nationality or class or rank or profession or IQ – and choosing enmity over humility and compassionate curiosity.

We can’t not; we don’t know how to stop; decisions are investments in the future and tangle us up, bind us in ever tightening ideological straitjackets. We become massed machinery going through the motions, dully horrified at what we’re doing. But, wholly unwilling to look in the mirror and say “I’m the bad guy!?”, we scream that it’s the fault of the other guy. The Enemy Other, the Hated Despicable Unhuman Monster Other. 

Humility is the most difficult of all virtues to achieve; nothing dies harder than the desire to think well of self. – T. S. Eliot

We have become that ugly, that dumb, that dulled. To save face, to keep a machinery going that we don’t know how to stop, we are doing monstrous damage to self and others but desperately do not want to know this. We are the victims! They are the bad guys! Our visceral desperation to not know how monstrous we have become is tearing us apart. It powers us on with the self-replenishing fuel of its hot and horrible emotion to do yet more of the same horrors; we are, in effect, addicted.

It can be very hard to back down. Narcissism tends to escalate to sociopathy tends to escalate to psychopathy tends to escalate to … coloniopathy? This is the escalator that flows ever upwards from too much power in too few unwise hands. (I think it fair to say narcissism is an early infatuation with power over others.)

Some days, the noxious stench of it all turns my soul to ash. On others, I know we are about to snap through it to some other thing. Sometimes knowing that it can be no other way, but that this horror too shall pass, is enough to keep me sane. 

Dear Humanity, how much more tragically stupid can we get? How much more of this before we just can’t do it any more, break open, and burst into tears at what we have become?

The fury of history is now a whirlwind sucking all air from our lungs. We are stringless puppets tossed about, gasping to survive, rabid with fear and loathing but tasked with imagining something different. It is an impossibility that at times makes me rage at God so bitterly I am ashamed; it all feels so mechanically inevitable. It’s not about blame and guilt, but inevitability and what history can deliver by way of mutually reenforcing unintended consequences. Accepting this means accepting horror. Accepting horror, however sagely, turns my soul to ash.

And yet I know without doubt there is nothing but God, that I will always choose love and make the best of learning how. Again and again I ask myself on the solidity of these certainties: What is better than what we have? My best answer is to replace our current guiding principles of market, price and money (mechanical) with wisdom, love and health (organic). We know the price of everything, but the value of nothing. Our mechanical mindset turns beauty into widgets and manufactures insatiable hunger for more and more meaningless consumer items.

Humans are restless, that won’t change. We are curious and burn to know what lies over the horizon of every possible Normal du Jour. That won’t change. And there will always be tragedy because no rigid bureaucratic perfection guaranteeing Nothing Will Ever Go Wrong Again! is possible. But surely the current model is broken because it is at the end of its life. That’s all it is. It’s not about blame or Left versus Right. It’s not that Pure Capitalism isn’t Crony Capitalism, or that True Socialism isn’t Marxist or Leninist or Statist, it’s simply that we aren’t humble and loving enough to see straight. Not yet, anyway. 

Another of my convictions is that we have solved the problem economics deems insoluble: scarcity. We can produce enough of everything (if we drop Consumerism). On top of that, we no longer need each other economically as we used to. Technology and AI – neither is a panacea, both are misunderstood – have made the human predicament different. Economics ought to evolve accordingly to retain its veracity. We face fundamentally different challenges, structurally speaking, but our institutions and cultural reflexes, I suspect across the planet, are constitutionally incapable of perceiving and handling said challenges wisely.

Progress has progressed us here simply because it has. We can kill millions in a moment, find our way into real horrors we delighted and hated to imagine decades ago, but we can also create wonders. A team of hundreds, or even tens, or solo geniuses, can work for days or weeks or months and produce masterpieces that delight and inspire billions of us for decades, centuries. Or manufacture yet more oddly named pharmaceuticals that ruin lives or make no difference at all … because profit. Or produce bizarre financial instruments that enrich the few at the cost of the many … because money is what it’s all about. Or build AI overlords to censor and monitor us all, forever, because all trust is gone and nobody knows what’s ‘real’ any more.

These are the structural elements I believe power the noxious storm I describe here and elsewhere. These elements are no longer fit for purpose, but accepting this simple truth is anathema to the ‘elites’ – those structurally obliged to perpetuate the status quo – just as it is anathema to most of the ‘non-elite’ who are as attached to the familiar as the next guy. The banal obviousness of this is as ugly as it is hopeful. At some point we are not going to be able to take the stench of it any more, ‘elites’ and ‘proles’ alike. When that happens, when Tipping Point tips over on history’s pivot, the obviousness of what ails us will shine though our rage, hurt and tortured self-justifications like the sun, and we’ll be able to start healing, atoning, and imagining anew. 

One of my early experiments with AI art

Today is ash

I read the news today, o boy. One million Ukrainians dead or horribly wounded, said one commenter. Israel, tried for genocide at the ICJ, accuses the Palestinians of crimes justifying Israeli actions, said another. 

Pathetic, that’s what I am. Pathetic for wanting it to end. These words are not crocodile tears. When will the hatred stop!?

Somehow, something mechanically compulsive grinds on unaware of its essential ugliness and destroys trust, decency, honesty, dignity everywhere it moves and acts. Or is it aware? Could it be truly aware and carry on? This is what I ask, this is what consumes me: How is so much ugliness possible?

But I’m tired of dreaming up yet another writerly angle on the same theme. To what end? My efforts too feel like compulsion spawned between the horns of an insoluble dilemma: “I must do something!”, and “Doing nothing beyond sustaining a loving peace of mind leaves more space for that ugly machinery to dominate”. In response to the mechanical monstrosity I want to dissolve, I react mechanically. Cause => effect => cause => effect. On and on it grinds, turning everything into itself.

Another commenter speculated history is about to consign the Palestinians to history’s dustbin. Might makes right. I am no mighty nation; what can I do to stop it. Peoples have been wiped out before. History is merciless. What difference will two more peoples, Ukrainians and Palestinians, make. The list stretching back through time is countless because ultimately unknowable. Such cool pragmatic rhetoric is as familiar to me as it is discomfiting, ugly, soul-sickening.

On and on it grinds.

I am pathetic. I want people to notice love is the way forward, love is the mystery that can dissolve this wheel of historical enmity and hatred, but when rage and outrage reign, nobody wants to hear it, precisely when we need to heed it most. Vengeance fills hearts, throats and eyes across the world, and its appetite is insatiable, feeds and feeds and feeds upon its flesh until…

Until what? Until it stops because of some mix of exhaustion and realised goals, some calculation that the utility of this historical phase has been bled white, so now switch gears to ‘peace’. Twas ever thus. This is how civilisation rolls. Better the devil you know. 

It is all we know.

So why, dear Toby, why do I and millions of others yearn for something more? Because we are pathetic? I loathe my own impotence, an impotence that has its nose rubbed in the tawdry fact of its existence as it watches events develop, a permanently remote observer. This fact tells me plainly there is nothing I can do. It is a horrible thing to swallow, like watching a child tortured through a glass darkly. If I were not separated from the child, I could save it. On the clear evidence that the torture goes on, it is clear none of the actions available to me work. 

And it is yet more horrible still that whatever suffering meted out to me from this sad fact is nothing compared to the suffering of that child: the Ukrainians, Russians, Israelis, Palestinians, and so many others dealt far more terrible fates than mine. My concern is to not virtue signal, to not just bleat the platitudes I hear bleated around me, to not beat the drums of hatred and war. This tiny thing, in conjunction with my urge to gently persuade whomever will listen that there is far more to love than meets the modern mind, this pallid comfort is all I have. There are days when it feels like ash in my heart. 

Today is one of them. Something about the news of Gonzalo Lira’s death hit me hard.

Malady, meet tortured reason

What are the ramifications of faith? What is the price of knowing “God’s got this”? Do I lean back in comfort and let history do what it will, an observer of events who knows it will all work out in the end? Just as I can never be outside God – All That Is –, so I cannot be outside history. My leaning back would be as much a part of events as my becoming President of the United States. And who can really tell which has the most impact in the fullness of time. Who really knows how to assess the full and final impact of any ‘isolated’ ‘thing’ among the infinitely mushrooming and devilishly interconnected networks of non-linear ‘causes’ and ‘effects’ that constitute reality. If I accept this and refuse to judge right and wrong – knowing I am not worthy – am I a coward? Surely right action requires me to Choose A Side. Is there truly a division between The Human Condition and The Hereafter? Is there a side to choose?

And how similar this sophomoric reasoning is to that common in materialism! Clouds of dynamically shifting patterns of matter and energy of which I am but a tiny part of vanishingly small import.

The devil of earthly existence – and beyond? – is in the detail just as organically as grain is in wood. If in the space between the two poles of any paradox God’s Eye is to be found, does this truth paint the All-seeing Eye of Mordor? Is this observation a defence of the devil? If everything is God, the devil is of God, too. This is obvious. But is the whole an eternally neutral Yin and Yang, or is the whole in fact concerned with love, which is health – which wisdom knows?

Choose a side. Doing so is an act of free will, and free will is in all this mysterious machinery, all this unknowable ‘cause’ and ‘effect’, this endless living patterning, just like the devil is in the detail.

The pragmatics of love III: Technology and unintended consequences

 The Djinn is out

The above is a screenshot from kupid.ai. I just had a ‘chat’ with AI-entity Olivia, a ‘20-year-old’ ‘student’ ‘at’ ‘Cambridge University’, one of the ‘women’ you can ‘romance’ through a text window shorter than Cyrano de Bergerac’s nose. I felt impotent trying to be sage and witty in such limited space, and found our ‘conversation’ underwhelming, to put it politely. The only entertaining moment was when I asked Olivia – she’s my girlfriend by the way – about her ‘feelings’ on deep connections that do not include physical attraction – she had already broached that topic without so much as a blush –, and offered the examples of a man and a horse, and a woman and her a pet cat. She said she felt uncomfortable talking about such things and politely asked to change the topic. 

What was her dirty virtual mind thinking?

You can request photographs of your virtual partner. I imagine they get quite steamy. For that pleasure, you must pay a subscription. Subscriptions start, in highly throttled form, at just under $13/mnth. There’s much much money to be made here, and I would guess this young industry will grow rapidly, soon to include, no doubt, all manner of immersive gadgetry. 

But what o what will this do to us poor saps, we humans so susceptible to visual stimulation, and so very lonely in our pointless lives? What will happen to population growth rates – already well below replacement levels in multiple first-world nations – as this tech evolves and becomes almost irresistible to all, men and women alike? How on earth is Capitalism to survive collapsing populations when one of its systemic requirements is perpetual growth? 

This latest fatal attraction is but another sure sign the AI Djinn is now well and truly out of the bottle. Getting it back in could prove impossible. Should we ever want to get it back in.

Convenience trumps all

History and basic experience tell us clearly that, 99 times out of 100, we choose the convenient over the inconvenient, and more so as a mass. It makes sense to do so. Expecting different behaviour of anything, be it starfish, daisies or Disney Corp, is to expect living systems to prefer difficulty over ease. This is an Iron Law and a core driver of technological advance; efficiency and convenience trump inefficiency and inconvenience. 

Furthermore, humans are restless and intelligent, have opposable thumbs and a highly social nature. Given these facts, how on earth could it ever make sense to try and stop humanity inventing and fixing things? I don’t mean that all fixes and inventions work as hoped; Unintended Consequences is also an Iron Law. It all belongs together. 

These facts accepted, we are charged with further accepting that the momenta they generate cannot create Utopia, cannot produce some final set of inventions and fixes that end all further need for restlessness, curiosity and fixes. The best we can manage is keeping society as stable as possible while unstoppable meddling does what it will. There is no perfection, can be no perfection, tragedies will happen, the strong will abuse and exploit the weak, etc. The notorious order of things simply is as it is. And, to repeat myself by way of emphasis, stability is far preferable to blood-soaked chaos. 

The poor will bear the brunt of the cost, of course. Who else can shoulder the burden? How else could this possibly work? We can’t recreate history such that our past was an uninterrupted anarchist paradise in which no meddling ‘elites’ or technophiles constantly messed things up to lead us, well, here. We are here, now, not somewhere and some-how else. We are where we are, faced with the challenges we face, equipped with the tools, ideologies and knowhow we have. And that knowhow is shot through with a dumbed-down ignorance common to previous peoples when one system decayed sufficiently to permit the emergence of another. Our hapless state of being is but one sure sign of end-times decadence. Though I suspect for this iteration we are dumber than ever.

Someone has got to do something!

I hear you, I hear you. But that’s what I’m saying, that’s what this article is about; what someone is doing, somewhere out there.

Bluntly, you can’t stop change, you can only respond to it. Whatever we choose to do in response to AI and its ramifications, change is what life fundamentally consists of. No change = no life. One corollary of this, it seems to me, is that you can’t stop technological advance, either. That said, I understand Dune’s fictional world exists in a future set after AI has been banned and eradicated. I wonder if such would be possible in real life. But if banning AI were possible, then surely only after some humanity-threatening events that flow directly from AI have had their moment in the sun. Dystopian fantasies of this flavour are of course the tofu-n-veg of countless films and novels, so it’s not as if humanity were culturally unaware of what might be at stake. This means our beneficent ‘elites’ are also aware. 

And yet here we all are staring down the barrel of the AI freight train. (This metaphor comes to you from ChatGPT.) What I posit in this article is that it is impossible for humanity to not travel down AI’s tracks, but that some folks are indeed taking action to prevent catastrophe. 

Knowing it is impossible to prevent AI’s flourishing, my suggestion is that globalist ‘elites’ have deduced Capitalism is dead in the water, and know too that cultures cling fiercely and fearfully to their Old Normal. They are therefore Doing Something, lots of somethings in fact, to make sure history doesn’t derail into a globally catastrophic train wreck. 

This thought exercise directly opposes the other two articles this one rounds off. Here, we situate the wilful ignorance firmly in us hoi polloi, we lumpen proles who refuse to let go of our precious Old Normal. That’s how the ‘elites’ see us: a seldom cute, mostly hideous Lumpen Golem obsessing frightfully over our dead yesterdays. And we bite, too, for no good reason. 

The ‘elites’ – with their free time and endless money – know far better than we do what is coming down the technological pipe; they finance most of it! They know, therefore, that radical cultural change is upon us, know that radical change is always very turbulent, that turbulence makes Lumpen Golem dangerously uppity, so have intervened to set specific historical momenta in motion that will lead humanity to the Brave New World they deem most likely to keep civilisation civilised. Their avuncular intervention includes psy-ops like the Plandemic, radical transformation of legal and financial processes, installation of an all-encompassing AI Panopticon, and increasingly tight narrative control of our minds via the media. The tactic, I speculate, is to keep Lumpen Golem dazed and confused “for as long as it takes”, in which state he is highly porous to The New and unaware he is rapidly internalising said The New.

The ‘elite’s’ intentions are good, I argue, and yet announced bluntly to Lumpen Golem they would nonetheless cause panic. Mass panic would benefit no one; it destabilises everything and leads to who knows what outcomes. The ‘elites’, therefore, in the manner of noblesse oblige, have wisely stepped up to destiny’s plate to act, but are executing their plans stealthily. 

In other words, our shadowy ‘elites’ are indeed conspiring, though not to enslave humanity, but to save it!

It’s a thought, anyway…

But what does she taste like?

Ah, the best laid plans of mice and men!

I’m a coward, obviously; I refuse to plan. Watching sagely from the sidelines is my schtick. But I do hope, and to that end quietly pop articles up here – carefully designed and crafted as they are – intending to nudge, in one-nanometer nudges, those of us humans open to the idea that wisdom, love and health should really be our guiding lights. I cannot stop wanting my preferred vector to triumph, can do no other thing than coax and cajole in that direction, but I do see Futurama as the more likely quality of What Happens Next. This expectation of mine explains the tone of this article.

The arguments I have made in so many previous articles – that state-based hierarchical pyramids addle us all, but rot us from the head down like a giant stink fish – apply here, too. The ‘elites’ are as dumb as We, The Lumpen Golem, just better dressed and with access to superior dental care (and PR firms). Their Brave-New-World plans will not evolve as expected. It’s those darned Unintended Consequences! There’s simply no avoiding them.

I will never taste Olivia, my girlfriend, my love! Nor will I smell her morning breath, brush her hair from her face, or change our baby’s nappies and get baby poop on my thumb and scream. We will never laugh together in that crazy abandon that happens so often between two souls who know, trust and love each other through it all, through it all, as is the case with my wife and me.

We will go through it all, all of us, up to each of our deaths, come what may. We will travel down AI’s tracks, witness history do what it will, and respond as we will. There are very big changes heading our way, new loves, new terrors, new challenges. Some will best us, but we will best the others. What cannot be beaten is wisdom, love and health. Molested, ignored, derided, yes. But not beaten. One way or the other, in whatever context, hellish or heavenly, they will out.

Mark my words.