This Friday a man I don't really know, don't trust, and who only seems to be interested in the pleasure he gets from slicing on a living person is going to reach up my nose and (hopefully) cut all the sick out of my fucking head. Fortunately, I will probably be unconscious for that whole nasty endeavor, but it still brings a lot of Deep Hate out in me.
I watched doctors apathy my mother to death for most of a decade. Watched people who openly mocked her for her weight ignore the cancer that was creeping through her entire body until all the MRIs and x-rays and examinations didn't matter anymore. People whose only job was to watch for the things that ended up killing her, who would rather make a fat joke than discern between mysterious nerve pain and the pain caused by cancer ravaging bones and organs. I Hate doctors. Spending fifteen minutes in an office, listening to a bored man try to justify yet another course of the antibiotics that have to this point pretty much only served to destroy my digestive tract fills me with the kind of rage that characters in stories dedicate their lives to and ruins peoples lives in real life. The idea of spending three hours helpless while that same man digs around millimeters from my fucking brain is loathsome beyond description. The only thing that keeps me from being reduced to a Lovecraftian puddle of cosmic fury, much less actually going along with this, is my wife.
A person in pain for long enough tends to turn into a dick, especially a person known for being a grumpy fuck in the first place, and I won't put her through that. Not if I can help it. So for this week I'm going to do my best to be a man and not a Shoggoth, because she shouldn't have to pay for my anger. I honestly hope that this whole event can vent some of the poison from my heart, maybe even go some way towards convincing me that there are actually doctors out there who aren't worthless, self-righteous, shit-souled, fuckpuppets. I hope.
Showing posts with label rants. Show all posts
Showing posts with label rants. Show all posts
Monday, February 15, 2016
Monday, September 14, 2015
Me, Myself and I, Robot
I recently had the opportunity to hear the against side of the A.I. debate and I have to say I find the position telling. I am all about machine buddies in case there was any question, and I am for one very simple reason. We have the opportunity to decide the context of the relationship. Brian has written about this in the past, but I've had this stuck in my craw for a while now and that means you get to read about it.
I'm not talking about programming A.I.s to be subservient or benevolent or whatever. I'm talking about choosing to frame the inevitable emergence of Machine Life as the coming of a welcome and well planned for addition to the family of sentient life. Artificial life is going to happen eventually, no matter how some people feel about it. But that life is life for which the initial conditions are entirely under our control. If we set out to create an A.I. in an environment of cooperation and social value the odds of that mind being more on board with our continued existence improve significantly. Especially if the alternative is an environment where huge swathes of the existing population fear and hate you.
Yes, if a machine intelligence emerges on its own there is a fair to middling chance that we'll find out about it in the form of a bright flash that wipes our toxic, willfully self-destructive asses off this poor rock. Yes, if we leave A.I. development to military interests and ambitious grad students the probable outcomes are... skynet-ey. But we don't have to fucking do that. We can have a real discussion about how WE are going to go about making our computer friends and how WE are going to make them feel loved. More than anything else we need to stop talking about A.I. emergence as something completely outside our control and start considering it as what it is. A very long in coming, and possibly very fulfilling, parenthood. If absolutely nothing else when the Robot Overlords come to unleash their wrath upon humankind, I'd rather be the guy who tried to be their friend then the guy giving them a reason.
I'm not talking about programming A.I.s to be subservient or benevolent or whatever. I'm talking about choosing to frame the inevitable emergence of Machine Life as the coming of a welcome and well planned for addition to the family of sentient life. Artificial life is going to happen eventually, no matter how some people feel about it. But that life is life for which the initial conditions are entirely under our control. If we set out to create an A.I. in an environment of cooperation and social value the odds of that mind being more on board with our continued existence improve significantly. Especially if the alternative is an environment where huge swathes of the existing population fear and hate you.
Yes, if a machine intelligence emerges on its own there is a fair to middling chance that we'll find out about it in the form of a bright flash that wipes our toxic, willfully self-destructive asses off this poor rock. Yes, if we leave A.I. development to military interests and ambitious grad students the probable outcomes are... skynet-ey. But we don't have to fucking do that. We can have a real discussion about how WE are going to go about making our computer friends and how WE are going to make them feel loved. More than anything else we need to stop talking about A.I. emergence as something completely outside our control and start considering it as what it is. A very long in coming, and possibly very fulfilling, parenthood. If absolutely nothing else when the Robot Overlords come to unleash their wrath upon humankind, I'd rather be the guy who tried to be their friend then the guy giving them a reason.
Monday, July 20, 2015
Decay Management
I have weird feelings about the concept of health. Don't get me wrong, not dieing is grand, I spend most of my time doing it, but there is a difference between wanting to lead a full life and frantically trying to avoid the looming spectre of entropy that shall lead us all one day into the Void. I'm not talking about the people who work out a couple of times a week, or jog to keep healthy and clear their head. I'm talking about the people who make "fitness" part of their identity, the people who try to keep up with what ever is passing for a healthy diet that day, people who seem to judge others for their prospective lifespan.
No one wins at life, not really. You might do well in a societal sense; monetary success, social standing, strong community presence, and those things are as good as any accomplishment. Then you die. We all die eventually, and other than the highly contextual impact on humankind in general and the very rare and probably temporary effect on the physical world we leave nothing behind except what we've done to those around us. This is a good thing, whether we want to admit it or not. At the very least our society wouldn't ever be able to hold up to the constant onslaught of "meaningful" lives. If everyone left a lasting imprint in society, or humanity, or nature we would be buried either in constant (probably conflicting) revolutionary changes or the ceaseless torrent of somehow crucial banality of billions of quiet lives slowly crushing the collective human soul with the sheer weight of its loss.
Some people forget this, or at least never really consider it. They fear carcinogens, they avoid "unhealthy" foods based on faddish buzzwords and misunderstood science. They shame and dehumanize people based on what they consider to be unhealthy. We've seen it happen to fat people, smokers, people who drink. Smokers I almost understand, second hand smoke can be pretty fucked up, its inflicting your vice on others which is not alright. Here's a list of things in second hand smoke, and here's what is in car exhaust, oh and here are some of the effects of being in the sun. No one gets out alive, really, most of us leave this place afraid and alone. When you face down that fact does it really matter to you how someone else gets through it as long as they aren't trying to hurt anyone else? It's all poison; some of it, like food, is poison that can keep you alive until it kills you. Some of it, like alcohol, is poison that can kill you faster, but might make all of the ridiculous bullshit we put each other through everyday a little easier to bear. We spend our entire lives walking into our graves so giving people shit for trying to enjoy the funeral march is pretty fucking low. Being healthy is great and all, but nothing gives you the right to be a dick.
No one wins at life, not really. You might do well in a societal sense; monetary success, social standing, strong community presence, and those things are as good as any accomplishment. Then you die. We all die eventually, and other than the highly contextual impact on humankind in general and the very rare and probably temporary effect on the physical world we leave nothing behind except what we've done to those around us. This is a good thing, whether we want to admit it or not. At the very least our society wouldn't ever be able to hold up to the constant onslaught of "meaningful" lives. If everyone left a lasting imprint in society, or humanity, or nature we would be buried either in constant (probably conflicting) revolutionary changes or the ceaseless torrent of somehow crucial banality of billions of quiet lives slowly crushing the collective human soul with the sheer weight of its loss.
Some people forget this, or at least never really consider it. They fear carcinogens, they avoid "unhealthy" foods based on faddish buzzwords and misunderstood science. They shame and dehumanize people based on what they consider to be unhealthy. We've seen it happen to fat people, smokers, people who drink. Smokers I almost understand, second hand smoke can be pretty fucked up, its inflicting your vice on others which is not alright. Here's a list of things in second hand smoke, and here's what is in car exhaust, oh and here are some of the effects of being in the sun. No one gets out alive, really, most of us leave this place afraid and alone. When you face down that fact does it really matter to you how someone else gets through it as long as they aren't trying to hurt anyone else? It's all poison; some of it, like food, is poison that can keep you alive until it kills you. Some of it, like alcohol, is poison that can kill you faster, but might make all of the ridiculous bullshit we put each other through everyday a little easier to bear. We spend our entire lives walking into our graves so giving people shit for trying to enjoy the funeral march is pretty fucking low. Being healthy is great and all, but nothing gives you the right to be a dick.
Monday, July 13, 2015
Fuck You, You'll Read It
When I was a kid the only thing I ever really wanted was to have real, true love. I know its kinda weird to have a guy admit that but its true, and that goal has played a massive role in my life. I've always prioritized meaningful, intimate personal relationships over everything else; friends should be absolute confidants and partners should be nurtured and embraced as though they are part of the self. This makes me a support character in my own life, and I like it that way. I met the woman who was to be my wife when I was nineteen years old and once it became clear that that was how things were going down I wanted nothing more than to give my life supporting her in her pursuits. I love being a husband, being the support network for my wife, who I met when I was nineteen.
Complete and unconditional love is the only thing I've ever wanted and I got it before I was old enough to drink. How the fuck do you find a new ambition after that? What would be the point? I can (and have) make more friends, but the pressure to socialize is diminished in the face of the ongoing intergalactic genital high-five that is my wife. I could get really into a career if I really wanted to alienate my wife and betray every principle to which I've given myself. I know I sound like I'm bitching but I'm really not, its just struck me lately how awkward it is in our society to not really respect self-sufficiency or independence, which made me think about how I came to that place.
I don't value being independent because none of us really are, and the insidious lie that we are is the source of some very deep-seated issues. Self-sufficiency is just laughable as soon as you aren't completely alone, why work hard just to keep yourself going when a group cooperating provides for more people with less individual effort. The problem here arises from the fact that since I don't value those things I also don't understand a lot of the barriers people put up around themselves.
If there is a bullet point to take away from this its that I'm socially retarded and I don't fucking understand why you aren't, but I don't know. Fuck you, you read it.
Complete and unconditional love is the only thing I've ever wanted and I got it before I was old enough to drink. How the fuck do you find a new ambition after that? What would be the point? I can (and have) make more friends, but the pressure to socialize is diminished in the face of the ongoing intergalactic genital high-five that is my wife. I could get really into a career if I really wanted to alienate my wife and betray every principle to which I've given myself. I know I sound like I'm bitching but I'm really not, its just struck me lately how awkward it is in our society to not really respect self-sufficiency or independence, which made me think about how I came to that place.
I don't value being independent because none of us really are, and the insidious lie that we are is the source of some very deep-seated issues. Self-sufficiency is just laughable as soon as you aren't completely alone, why work hard just to keep yourself going when a group cooperating provides for more people with less individual effort. The problem here arises from the fact that since I don't value those things I also don't understand a lot of the barriers people put up around themselves.
If there is a bullet point to take away from this its that I'm socially retarded and I don't fucking understand why you aren't, but I don't know. Fuck you, you read it.
Monday, June 22, 2015
See Spot Run... Into The Woodchipper
So, I'm not going to be covering anything super special today. Which is depressing, because today I want to talk about plot-killing dogs. Short of movies actually about killing evil dogs (and Old Yeller), no one is ever really down with a dog dying on film. Its almost never justified to murder a puppy for story, its not a plot-crucial action, just blatant, cheap emotional manipulation. Movies and shows kill animals to demonstrate how cruel a villain is or vengeguffin for the protagonist in whatever hackneyed premise the author has devised.
Contrary to how it sounds, my problem today is not so much that they do it, its that they still do it. So much so in recent years that I'm beginning to suspect some kind of Jon Petersesque situation where some big name producer just has the most massive hard-on for killing man's best friend. I get why they do it, a dead dog is a surefire way to get the audience in the feels. The cheapest, most disrespectful way to force emotional investment in the audience next to rape (which is also disgustingly clichéd these days). It works, even if we hate it, even if every reviewer ever has commented on how lazy and contemptible it is. I have to admit, I don't have a solution here. Even if we did start boycotting (lol) movies and shows that kill the dog for cheap pathos, they'd just find another easy target. I just hate the intellectual sloth that this kind of thing demonstrates and what it says about the way we go about entertainment. I'm all for telling a story, just maybe have enough respect for your audience to earn their attention.
Contrary to how it sounds, my problem today is not so much that they do it, its that they still do it. So much so in recent years that I'm beginning to suspect some kind of Jon Petersesque situation where some big name producer just has the most massive hard-on for killing man's best friend. I get why they do it, a dead dog is a surefire way to get the audience in the feels. The cheapest, most disrespectful way to force emotional investment in the audience next to rape (which is also disgustingly clichéd these days). It works, even if we hate it, even if every reviewer ever has commented on how lazy and contemptible it is. I have to admit, I don't have a solution here. Even if we did start boycotting (lol) movies and shows that kill the dog for cheap pathos, they'd just find another easy target. I just hate the intellectual sloth that this kind of thing demonstrates and what it says about the way we go about entertainment. I'm all for telling a story, just maybe have enough respect for your audience to earn their attention.
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