Do You Feel Lucky?

(and feel free to comment! My older posts are certainly no less relevant to the burning concerns of the day.)

Sunday, January 27, 2019

A New Low In Come-Ons. The aSocial Media Plug-In You Didn't Know You Could Want!

ThAT'S RIGHT IT'S Fuckzone. Oh, dear.

A plug-in app with the ladies very much in mind! Especially for dudes who want to but can't break the icy barrier. A chance to give all the choice to the ladies! Which we always have, which they always have. A chance to see a choice at all, involving the who-knows-how-many-friends who they know all love them, but who knew how much more they want to? Ladies, choice is a treasure, always yours. But how can you choose when you don't know who wants the prize? Hint: it's not every guy hanging around in close orbit! Aw, I didn't mean to crash your satellite, but it is true. All the more reason for you to want to know: it IS most of them. There, better right?

That's where fuckzone comes in. The flipside! Possibly. Of every friendzone, potentially and just as you wish. Who knows how many pretty sweet guys you've got, nursing a lonely boner for a buddy of theirs who won't put out? Or maybe, who just doesn't know they suppose her to? THIS IS you in many cases! Or could be surely. Surely you want to know.

Your friends will thank you (some of 'em). Albeit, in perhaps a perfunctory "Yeah thanks luv, great!" way. That's alright, Take that dork off the list and right back on the other - when it comes to fuckzone, it's so easy for you and they won't know 'til it hits them! An awful lot of functionality on your side. Very little needed on theirs!

But how easy is it?

Here's what you do:

1. find the site. We keep having to move it around as yet - we're in prelaunch mode, it'll firm up later.
2. download install
3. breeze past the T&C (you must be logged in to your social media accounts!) and get ready to click "Accept."
4. Click "Accept!"

Easy as that! You're through, you've just send an invitation to all your friends and contacts that you'd like them to join the fuckzone app! DON'T WORRY. It's worded coy. And particularly explicit is the big banner at the bottom if the invitation: "Not Sayin' I'll Say Yes ;-)" That's our slogan. Emoji and all, yeah, I know. I was against the emoji but the T&A team said slap it on. Good for the optics. What do I know?

FUCKZONE! The almost asocial media app! A soon-to-be available add-on to FB, IG, and any other place you care to stick in! Proposals pending, but surely approval's a lock right? Natch.

Friday, January 25, 2019

Poor Choice of Words to Eat

They say you don't bite the hand that feeds you, but in my experience - isn't that the only hand you bite? No other hand comes close!

Especially having seen you eat. Seriously. It would take a brave hand or a blind one or both to risk proximity to those incisors, that greedy and frenzied maw of yours, aww. Not cute. And if you're not careful you end up with a finger bit off guard, caught in the gullet and having a ball gagging you 'til basically in disgust, you have to give it up, do the whole thing all over again backwards - a very disorderly approach to food consumption.

You can 'Like' a post, fine, but that don't mean you 'Want' another 'Like' it.

What Some Forgotten Greek Philosopher Could Teach Us About Modern Day Rape Culture Was Not Worth Writing Down

When I was even a few years ago, it never would have occurred to me that not some but ALL MEN object so strenuously to being generalized as a bunch of potentially false rapists. Seriously guys? Is that a thing you really think needs to be said out loud? Come on. If you really think it's such a huge threat, maybe you should. The way to avoid a false rape accusation is just tell the girl it’s a concern of yours. Right up front.

Guys, I swear. I have seriously underestimated the degree to which men resent having to put up with women who don't put out. I always thought it was supposed to be about love - and making it, for that cause alone. It gets pretty lonely there, thinking maybe you're the only one who still thinks that way - which is nice.

But the truth is, that's not what gets into must guy's minds - at least, not to hear them explain it to you, condescendingly eager to put you on the right track and with no whistle stops for edgewise words, contrariwise or otherwise. No, some dudes' amusement is tickled by a scenario quite similar to this one: "put out, bitch!" Which is why so many women are so put out, to the point of not evening putting it out there anymore. Now who these dudes are I don't know, but I conceive their ideal of chivalry to be: keeping an eye out for the one too good to ever let go, pushed to weigh everything: the good and bad benefit, against the often devastating potential for growth. Weighty measures don't even come into it any further than the moment dictates - and it's a real dictator if you get it used to so much as an inch's worth - but again, pushed to it, our starry-eyed chivalrous dude scoffs "Of course! I'm looking out for the one. I just don't know which yet! So I'm looking out for number one in the meantime."

Sure. You want the one too good not to get off the stall your tall horse has been huffing and puffing in and capitulate, throw the whole race! Why wouldn't you? Forced to it brutally with no choice (all marriage is rape) when she gave you the ol' tomato, as The Ultimatum is called in Jersey, famous for its ripe tomatoes, fresh corn and big-haired broads with a pretty serious idea in mind, despite their raucous, keening laugh, their heart-rending vulnerability (we're all vulnerable to that sometimes, especially under the right or wrong operating conditions, doc) and their overall easy-tier sensibility, a good-timer approach that values you but shut up.

This is the idea I get. A very different one from what I grew up, all woke from an everfresh feverish dream, chasing after it like a moron who got knocked off the carousel and ran away crying, still clutching and clutching at the stupid ring that was supposed to be a prize, good for a lifetime of free rides per customer. That was all I ever wanted! None of this, oh, I plan to eventually be forced into it. Meantime let's fool around playing pokey-holey with as many limber and willing contest runners-up we can get to throw their hopes in! You have NO IDEA how fun the last ten seconds of sex are, right before you lose interest and roll over on the bitch for a big snore.

I mean. Am I wrong? It sounds horrible, but I think they mean it!

It took me long enough to catch on they weren't joking. I think this really is the dream girl-goal held out for as long as possible and by most guys, those in tune with the norms prized and lifted into position for another rude and jubilant post celebratory comedown and up and down, it's the only thing worth doing. You can just imagine.

How disappointing a view, from where I sit!

Man, it's love I want, not some fucking fun all my life, finally break down and ok go for love, the love that was right there waiting, in a move timed just before I freak out about my failing looks, and how hard it's going to make it to get any good side tail. Shit.

I hate to sound like a cynic, but you've got to admit, haven't you? In times like these, we need people like me who can fake it till it STINKS, and it does stink. Cynicism. Whoever came up with that died of it. I am approximately as cynical as Diogenes himself, who founded the whole school! But he (like me) got out before it went bad and turned into a depressing and insincere melee of accusation, everybody in it for their own self and, quite naturally, secretly lying about it to create the impression they care.

If I was that kind of cynic, I would back it all the way to the beginning, sit still rather squat to the side of the road and shit its shoulder, on the principle that I don't even care who's sick enough to peek when there's business to do. Settle down! It would be Diogenes himself squatting right next to me! Not waiting his turn at all. No stall could hold that guy.

That was the whole point of his school. "Nothing natural is shameful." Don't wait by the side of the road forever, doing a little dance holding up your lantern in broad daylight and when somebody stops to ask, reply "I'm waiting for a good man to come by." Then, as if to add insult to your sincerely real and urgent need to see such a thing, tell them keep on going!

This is exactly what Diogenes did. All day, roaming the streets of Athens or some damn place, strong and rude and naked beneath a completely inadequate and gamey Toga it looks like he tricked up from a stolen bedsheet, punking Greeks in the unawares, their eyes narrowed by a glance at the unnecessary lantern (a real conversation piece!), in between sleeping off a meal of onions and cheese (his exclusive diet) in a tipped over huge round baked clay vase - a container originally used to ship oil. His was the life! "You should write that shit down," people kept telling him. Diogenes was like, no. You think people in the future'll put it to better use? If say I'm not in their face with my breath while they ponderously sip at the words? You think it'll have a more improving effect then? Waste of time. People are in all times, worth it in person but if you want to write a fucking self help book fuck, help yourself. I don't.

This was how Diogenes rolled. It was how he got his nickname: "The Dog," with his roadside open-tent facetious peepshow move. In Greek it was Kynos. Cynos. Hard to tell, how all the letters have changed since then, but it ended as so many things do, in cynicism. Part of the confusion is, Greek writers got off on the wrong alphabet, but spell it anyway you like. The Cynic.

Diogenes the Cynic. Nothing remotely like today's ill-bred mangy descendants who claim the lineage, but haven't a drop of real blood in their veins. I'd refer you back to the original writings, but (see above) there aren't any. All we have left is the stories. One time, Diogenes straight-up told Alexander the Great (that Alexander the Great, from Wikipedia) to fuck off.

And he did. These two men sized each other up so instantly in agreement: this prick's not worth the breath it takes to talk sense into him (Diogenes) and/or have him flogged and executed (Alex). The crowd at that performance would have been enormous, but little Alex didn't have the stones, or maybe he was tired after building an empire on top of his pop's conveniently early grave, running off with his Daddy's money and plans, vandalizing famous exhibits of exquisite geometry in the involved art of tying ropes into knots and fucking Cleopatra (didn't happen. Look it up). That mother-loving big ol' boy was no nice man, but next to Diogenes he was a pipsqueak. Anybody worshipping Alexander the Great at this late date in the dying light of Western Civilization deserves to end up as the smartest man in the world in a comic book, whose bright idea was to kill half New York City and frame a giant octopus for it that he cooked up himself on the beach just to scare people! And then of course, get away with it.

Fanboys. Sheesh. Did I digress?

Give us a real man, like Diogenes. I promise you, he had no problem with irritating women. Irritating as he was, so were they. It was a self, or rather reciprocally fulfilling arrangement of considerable verve, committed to get on one's famous last nerve. What's natural is not shameful. Why am I always lionizing Diogenes, they ask me? That cat was a dog! Yeah, but these days, not all men aren't. Maybe you see it otherwise.

All I ask is a little serious consideration of the man's message.

Tuesday, January 22, 2019

I'm a Third Class Mind, thank you very much

Yeah, so basically it runs:

First Class: more than sheer awareness here, the startling fact is the direct perception, and the depth and constancy of attention. A first class mind perceives things asensorily, by direct application of mind. The mechanism is incomprehensible to anyone not at least 2nd class. More than that, though, the 1st class mind holds all things within its range in full attention at all times. Even the things it isn't thinking about in any way - making no judgments, coming to no conclusions, not even drawing new observation from - these things are never the less fully held, in mind, with full attention, still.

There are of course degrees. A 1st class mind is not necessarily omniscient. An omniscient mind would be not only rangeless, but hold all things down to the absolute tiniest depths of their quantumscale attributes with full attention, even if without the slightest interest: a knowing of spin, charge, position, velocity and state of everything, whole and part, every particle winking and blipping into and out of existence all through and down into every object and out into all space between, illimitably. Without even trying. Full attention upon all of it, equally, even when fully disinterested in any of it. That would be an omniscient mind. Obviously, such a thing we would not call God. To omniscience you'd need to add a power as illimitable, and a peculiar and personal interest besides, for it to match the description monotheists on Earth unite in calling God. But those additional requirements to meet the agreed-upon* monotheistic premise "God" do not properly have to do with mind.

[ *Purely by way of aside, it really is "agreed-upon." At least over all of the Earth. Monotheists share an overwhelming unanimity on these three definitional aspects of God, which aspects are incomparably hugest and most essential, next to which aspects argument over the details of the God Diet, Hygiene and Anus-Related Propriety Plan are so amusingly trivial in scope that it's rather appalling and sad, to see some people seriously, sternly emphasize squabbles on these ant-like scales as if they represent even motes of difference, set next to the Everest-size agreement there clearly really is. Only the fringest of peculiar-taste sticky-outy outliers disagree on these, God's aspects: Infinite ('potent and 'scient and 'present to the omni degree, for the layperson), Eternal (which is bigger than infinite, timewise - it comes before infinite spacetime broke out), and personal (cares about you, specifically). ]

So we see, there may well be any number of 1st class minds, of varying range (all the way out to rangless) and extent (out to beyond cosmic and down to beyond quantum). A mind is first class by its direct knowing, and its effortless and full attention, even when undirected by thought. You can see how this would be breathtaking.

It's conceivable a first class mind may have form, but for one of any considerable range, form is likely unnecessary, and unlikely to be resorted to except as a lark.

Obviously a first class mind has all the lower class capabilities as well. The point is, though, it doesn't merely exceed these capabilities by extension, by doing the same things lower classes can do but to a wildly greater extent. No, a jump up in class means you can do things the rank below you cannot do at all.

Second Class: these are the minds that go beyond form. Most have a form they inhabit, but they can project mentality beyond, in some way. Some can separate their mentality and roam about from a dissociate viewpont. Some remain within their form, but project mentality (perception, perspective, knowing) from that base, outward to the limit of their range. Range varies. Some second class minds are truly rangeless, but they still must hold attention in a focused way, and turn their mentality this way and that, in order to know.

A second class mind may be able to perceive the thoughts of others, by projecting their mentality towards them, seeing if they are able to perceive the thoughts in a way that makes sense to them. Some can perceive others' thought, but cannot make sense of it. Some may be unable to make sense of a given mind, while other minds of apparently similar kind lay open to them. Individuality counts for much.

A second class mind may be able to project a shareable construct of mentality within and between two minds, for a two-way communication, or scale up the link for a multiple-point conference call.

A second class mind may be able to simply wander free in thought, leaving form behind - but perhaps may possess no capabilities beyond this. May be unable to project its thought into another mind, or unable to perceive the thought of another mind.

What all these minds have in common is ability to project mentality beyond form, in some way, in many ways, or even in all ways (if you can imagine such a thing!). What they lack is ability to know beyond some can of scan, some look, some peek into. What they lack is the ability to hold reality in mind without even thinking about it, directly and with full attention.

Even for a second class mind, it's hard to even imagine what a first class mind would be like. To imagine the experience of it.

Third Class mind: these are the minds that go beyond perception, to have an emergent consciousness of their own self as the unique viewpoint they are particularly and inexplicably attached to. This is only the primary and primal abstraction it is capable of holding and manipulating. More developed third class minds can create, define and manipulate abstractions at will, with the socially-minded examples sharing abstractions between them of breathtaking agreement in particulars, and each holding a useful knowing of what the other means, despite complete incapacity to share any of this information directly, mind-to-mind! For that is the barrier of third class minds. This mind can go anywhere in imagination, even places that don't and never will exist, but it can never get out of its brain: by which I mean, whatever physical matrix holds the mentality components and the interactions within and between them from which its autometaconsciousness is emergent.

Fourth Class mind: these minds may be capable of considerable learned, instinctive, even invented behavioral sophistication, but they aren't capable of abstraction at a meaningful level. Hence, they are not even capable of abstracting from their own fully-immersive perceptual world, a concept of self. It doesn't occur to them as necessary. Arguably, they're right! Who needs "I" when one always has the view from one's own eyes (or the local equivalent)? When one's view never shines out from any other place than that? Make no mistake: some fourth class minds are capable of a shocking degree of intelligence, genius-level practicality of invention and sophistication...all without so much as an "I" between them. This is not hive mind, it's simply a level of self without reflection. A surface of infinite shallowness, always looking out, lacking the inclination or capacity for inward looking - it doesn't come up. But don't underestimate the degree of sophistication possible to these purely-perceptual beings. Sophistication including technological sophistication, capable of projecting perception or force at interstellar distances. And they don't waste much if any of their resources on therapy.

However, those are the exceptions. Most perceptual beings lack even language, beyond bark, roar, squeak, chirp. The distinction here is so important that the fourth class is subdivided:

4A: perceptual beings incapable of meaningful communication via language.
4B: perceptual beings capable of language.

4B almost always does lead inexorably to abstraction, which tends to lead on to self. Technologically advanced civilizations who got that way without even the benefit of meaningful abstraction are invariably ancient. Attitudes that conflate knowledge with instinct and minimize or overlook the difference between symbol and referent abound. Hard to get your mind around.

Fifth Class Mind: Pure stimulus response. Instinctual beings. An amoeba, for instance. Incapable of negotiating the simplest decision tree. There is no decision involved. React. If more then one reaction is possible, the fifth class mind doesn't decide. It reacts. Whichever way the inscrutable exhortation of its drives and needs and instincts call it. It does what it does 'cause it musts what it must! This doesn't mean it's deterministic. It means only that it is incapable of deliberation.

This is by no means a blitz of non-stop action for the fifth class mind! Quite a bit of sitting quite still is frequently involved. Classic example: a fucking tree.

Sixth Class Mind: a fucking rock, for example. The awareness here is incapable of even reaction, let alone deliberation, perception, abstraction, conception, literal projection, direct knowing with full, even disinterested attention, or any other mentality. What does it know?

It knows itself, without self. This is a knowing in spin, charge, position, velocity and state of whole and part and particle winking and blipping into and out of existence, all within and throughout it.

The universe is a sixth class mind. Yup! Dumb as a rock, with a whole lot of bright spots.

But also, every thing all through and within the universe is at least a sixth class mind. Minds of second class have even been known to learn how to talk to them. Conversation is extremely limited, especially to begin with. But to a limited extent, some sixth class minds can be taught. Principally, to react. If you know how to listen, and have a gift for elicitation.