Especially Relative

A Snapchat masterpiece.

Sat, 11 May 2013 22:20:39 -0400

A Snapchat masterpiece.

"First they came for the communists, and I didn’t speak out because I wasn’t a..."

Mon, 06 May 2013 23:43:00 -0400

“First they came for the communists,
and I didn’t speak out because I wasn’t a communist.
Then they came for the socialists,
and I didn’t speak out because I wasn’t a socialist.
Then they came for the trade unionists,
and I didn’t speak out because I wasn’t a trade unionist.
Then they came for the Jews
and I didn’t speak out because I wasn’t a Jew.
Then they came for me,
and there was no one left to speak for me.”

Recall

Mon, 06 May 2013 22:46:00 -0400

It seems like many consider memories to be simple recordings of different sensory feeds, recorded perfectly and mechanically on the blank canvas of the brain. But the brain and its underlying mind aren’t a blank canvas. And memories surely do not record perfectly.

Instead, I think that we encode only a small portion of the information and that a memory, as we experience it, actually consists of the interplay of that information and the particular condition of the recording surface. The mind has language, attitudes, desires, and personality - to name a few. When it retrieves the information, therefore, it must interpret the frame of information according to its history and then “understand” it in a corresponding way by filling in the holes. Say you were to transport to a new person the information half of a memory. This would be the only possible half to transport while retaining the person of the receiver. The new canvas would fill the holes in differently, writing a story to explain the frame in the context of other memories and personality. This phenomena would not occur desperately, in the sense of seeming abnormal or noticeable, for the process occurs for all natural information and, at least in this case, is presumed to be complete.

Two things describe me. I develop quickly, changing drastically (hopefully in a positive direction). I also have very horrible memory for life events.

I think that, in terms of my theory, these attributes have a cause and effect relationship. I am not the same person I was six years ago - and I don’t mean this in the sense of my body being totally new. Although there seems to be some “Brahman” stringing all the persons called Austin together, what sits on top of it, those learned personalities, do not resemble each other, and looking back in a photo is really seeing a someone else. It seems that my horrible and often faulty memory for personal* events might therefore be my current “person” or “canvas” failing to understand the content of my memory. I can only create stories to explain those external memories delivered to me in pictures and videos.

*My horrible memory does not extend to intellectual subjects, which would make sense because the necessary context is constant.

Bipolar Buddha

Mon, 06 May 2013 18:18:42 -0400

Sometimes I think that the goal of enlightenment is to stretch out mania irrevocably. It’s prevalent in Eastern Philosophy for those who enter this altered neurological state to have experienced some sort of traumatic experience beforehand, as in Siddhartha’s realization of death. It makes them doubt the worth of life - or at least the way they think about and do it. Maybe then as people develop towards enlightenment - uncovering progressively greater and deeper truths, lamenting, and then finding the solution with joy - maybe that ends with the ultimate solution, where you can go no deeper, the infinite joy.

Gradual Modification of Desire

Mon, 06 May 2013 18:09:13 -0400

Certain triggers seem to remain constant throughout any sexual being’s life. In males, an example of this could include the large hip to waist ratio of women which evolution has formed into a desire-provoking symbol of fertility. It should be noted, however, that even constant triggers can assume different manifestations. While the ratio stays the same, its numerator and denominator may decrease simultaneously and proportionally, resulting in a preference, as our society has formed, for tiny waists complimenting skinny hips.

Despite this constancy, sexuality seems to change significantly within any given organism in its development. One possible answer exists in an analysis of terms. Usually, we consider orientation mainly in the spectrum of masculinity and femininity. I think that in this consideration, sexual desire is controlled by more or less steady triggers. Within each gender, however, there is also a secondary spectrum. Throughout a gender’s age development, it assumes several different prototypes. The 16 year old boy has an incredible difference (perhaps even comparable to the difference between genders) from the 35 year old man, and girls who desire 16 year old boys often, as socially prescribed, do not, at their age, desire older men. How then does one account for the change? Through social, behavioral, or cognitive means?

There seems to be a mechanism by which desire is focused in the confines of steady triggers. There is likewise an accompanying change in focus needing explanation. Modelling and gender typing may account for a large part of this change, but I think that these social forces could only guides it, pointing the focus in certain directions. Moving towards that given direction may require a biological predisposition and self-conditioning. The latter of these, whether self-induced or naturally occurring, is by far the most generally acting.

Say that arousal in the girl results from seeing the 16 year old boy. This would normally warrant an association with the pleasant arousal and presence of the boy, i.e. desire. The desire may then be generalized not only to the specific natural triggers but also to all attributes of the boy that repeatably accompany them. As the boy matures and contact continues, the unconditioned traits, without any influence but age development, would therefore becoming desirable This natural shaping affect could eventually lead towards the girl liking him even when they are both very old, though most the original triggers may have disappeared. The same affect may also be noticeable through self-induced methods like genital stimulation, where by habitual, unintended exposure to neutral stimuli accompanying the original stimulant becomes conditioned. The end result is a gradual widening (although primarily desired prototypes may remain, as in the case of “cougars”) of stimulating ages with a positive correlation between intensity and promiscuity. This effect, naturally, would match the effected person’s own development, but may be hurried or nonlinear if self-induced.

Parable of the Arrow

Wed, 03 Apr 2013 19:05:46 -0400

One of the five selections of the Sutta Pitaka, a holy book of Buddhism, speaks of a monk who asked the Buddha the 14 unanswerable questions, among which included inquiries on existence after death and the permanence of the world. The Buddha answered:

“It’s just as if a man were wounded with an arrow thickly smeared with poison. His friends & companions, kinsmen & relatives would provide him with a surgeon, and the man would say, ‘I won’t have this arrow removed until I know whether the man who wounded me was a noble warrior, a priest, a merchant, or a worker.’ He would say, ‘I won’t have this arrow removed until I know the given name & clan name of the man who wounded me… until I know whether he was tall, medium, or short… until I know whether he was dark, ruddy-brown, or golden-colored… until I know his home village, town, or city… until I know whether the bow with which I was wounded was a long bow or a crossbow… until I know whether the bowstring with which I was wounded was fiber, bamboo threads, sinew, hemp, or bark… until I know whether the shaft with which I was wounded was wild or cultivated… until I know whether the feathers of the shaft with which I was wounded were those of a vulture, a stork, a hawk, a peacock, or another bird… until I know whether the shaft with which I was wounded was bound with the sinew of an ox, a water buffalo, a langur, or a monkey.’ He would say, ‘I won’t have this arrow removed until I know whether the shaft with which I was wounded was that of a common arrow, a curved arrow, a barbed, a calf-toothed, or an oleander arrow.’ The man would die and those things would still remain unknown to him.”

In the pursuit of evil, one must step away from good - in the service of good? When you stare into...

Wed, 03 Apr 2013 19:05:42 -0400

In the pursuit of evil, one must step away from good - in the service of good?

When you stare into the abyss, the abyss stares back into you.

The Doctrine of Dependent Origination

Tue, 02 Apr 2013 22:41:07 -0400

To solve the paradoxes of “being” and “non-being”, we established the middle path of “becoming” between eternalism and nihilism. All objects are locked within an infinite regression of causality that makes there independent and isolated existence fallacious. Every object is truly an every-moving action undergoing decay and growth. This is evident because decay is the breakdown of compound objects, relative to a reference frame, and every object is a summation of parts.

The terms existence and nonexistence do not adequately define an object, as, for example, a wave. The identify of a wave is inseparable from the ocean. The wave is something the ocean does, but also the ocean is something the wave does. Go out and remove a wave from the ocean with a bucket. You will find that what seemed like a concrete thing - as defined by nouns - really always was undergoing change, the fluid existence of water.

The environment defines it and is inseparable.

Everything arises conditionally.

Anomaly: A Short Story

Mon, 01 Apr 2013 22:51:26 -0400

“Would you like some sugar with your coffee?” Hearing my voice, he turned his head to the side and stared at me. Mr. Howerton understood, but he could not formulate a response. Two years ago, a stroke had damaged his temporal lobe and given him Broca’s aphasia.

I could notice Mr. Howerton turning the inquiry over, digesting it like a deep philosophical problem. His brain struggled to find the right sounds, but in the end it produced only a few nonsensical words to answer me. Pretending to understand, I nodded and began walking to the coffee station.

For the past three months, my class had worked at the Nursing Home. Every weekday we arrived by bus at six and marched through our morning exhaustion to care for the residents. At first, the unpleasant scenes were shocking: elderly men bed-bound, patients with protruding organs, women with arms frailer than thistles of twigs. Although I will never accept those slights, after some time the shock began to fade away, and the most disagreeable jobs receded into custom.

I poured the coffee into a cup and decided to add the sugar. As I dissolved it with a spoon, the motion lulled my tired mind into daydream. Like so many other times, it began to ponder a common question – how it was, exactly, that I was pondering.

For my tenth birthday, my sister gave me a model brain. After the party, I took it apart and ran my fingers over the different sections, trying to feel how a person could fit inside. It quickly became the object of my curiosity, and whenever I consider the brain, this specimen, now mounted on a pedestal of neuroscience books, immediately comes to mind. Picturing it clearly, I felt the years of wonder channeling into a determination to succeed, to figure it out. This enlivened me shortly, but then my thoughts, interrupted, found on its surface an anomaly: the dead temporal tissue of Mr. Howerton.

Considering myself logical, I did not want to admit how strongly meeting Mr. Howerton had affected me. My books had taught me that the brain could break like a machine and personality could crumple, yet only after meeting such a case did it seem real to me. Like this man, my aspirations would eventually end in old age and dependency. It was unavoidable. I would die.

The coffee growing cold, my attention returned to the task at hand. No sooner than turning around did I realize that Mr. Howerton was not at the table. A blanket lay strewn across his chair, and his plastic cane leaned against the wall. Panicking, I sent my eyes scanning the cafeteria, but before they could spot anything, a gentle melody reached my ears.

Mr. Howerton sat on the piano bench. His heavy sneakers operated the peddles, and his fingers glided over the ivory keys, gracefully defying their arthritis. He smiled wildly, and his torso swayed from side to side as the notes curled from his memory into the air.

I walked over to him, set the coffee on the piano, and for some time listened to the song. Each sound reached my ears like a tiny miracle, and the beat pushed the future away from my concern. Mr. Howerton suddenly stopped playing and gestured for me to sit down. I could see the expectation in his eyes once next him, the excitement, the anticipation. Obliging, I started to play. He then joined in on my melody, and we made music and laughed and lived.

It is strange that many teenagers cannot find happiness, but this elderly man, even though near death, could find it in the smallest moments. For a long time my love for the sciences overtook me, and I forgot about the person behind the brain; it became my ambition to quantify every tear and laugh, but in the process, I forgot about the passions that caused them. Because of Mr. Howerton, I have come to realize that life like that song does not exist for some latter purpose. Musicians play for the moment. They do not rush to the end or choose to strike only the final, crashing chord. If we are to find happiness, we need to, like these composers, appreciate the melody. We must live for our struggles. We must dance with the music as it now plays.

I try not to make personal posts, but I would like to explain my disappearing for the last few...

Mon, 01 Apr 2013 22:46:34 -0400

I try not to make personal posts, but I would like to explain my disappearing for the last few months. The answer.. COLLEGE.

Now that I have poured time, sweat, tears, and other bodily fluids into my college and scholarship applications, I am happy to announce that I will be attending UCLA with a full ride through the Stamps Family Foundation. UCLA has a terrific undergraduate neurology program, so (assuming the possibility of nuclear death by North Korea to be negligible) everything is looking up.

Soon I will be giving the blog a makeover. Right now, I’ll post some of the essays I wrote for college/scholarships. I have also been researching Eastern Philosophy a tad and hope to share some new perspectives and see what you all have to say.

If anyone of you are going to UCLA, hit me up. And no, I am not condoning violence.

Video

Fri, 22 Feb 2013 19:49:29 -0500

Photo

Sun, 17 Feb 2013 17:17:39 -0500

"The soul is the mount of the universe, focused on one point."

Sat, 02 Feb 2013 20:42:47 -0500

“The soul is the mount of the universe, focused on one point.”

- Alan Watts

"Govern a great nation as you would cook a small fish: do not over do it."

Wed, 30 Jan 2013 11:04:42 -0500

“Govern a great nation as you would cook a small fish: do not over do it.”

- Ronald Reagan quoting the Dao De Ching

Lao Tzu

Tue, 29 Jan 2013 22:16:00 -0500

An alternative name of the Dao De Ching is the Lao Tzu. In ancient Chinese philosophy, books were often named after their writers. Lao Tzu means “the old master”. Legend has immortalized this character. In one story, a man working border patrol stops Lao Tzu as he is emigrated from his state to the west and asks that the great master leave his people with something. Lao Tzu thus quickly writes down the Dao De Ching and continues his journey on a water buffalo. After noticing similarities with Buddhism, some Doaists would later hypothesize that Lao Tzu had emigrated to India and become the Buddha. All of this is not plausible. Actually, ancient Chinese does not distinguish between the plural and singular forms, so there may have actually been multiple authors to the book.

The word “Daoism” may be spelled with a “D” or ”T”. The “D” is a more recent Romanization. Both aim at emulating the Chinese pronunciation Daoism developed in response to Confucianism during the Warring States period of imperial China. During that time, philosophers politically applied their theories as to receive employment from kings seeking military strategy. Daoism has since developed into a full religion, with its scriptures, priests, and rituals. One interesting belief is that each person has two souls, one corresponding with Yin (dark, passive, female, preserving) and the other with Yang (light, active, male, initiating). Since it is light, the Yang soul travels to the other world while the Yin stays in the grave to accept offerings from ancestor worship.

**The “a” in Yang is pronounced as if the dentist asked you to open wide: “ah….”. :D

To Be an Apple Tree

Tue, 29 Jan 2013 20:27:00 -0500

To Be an Apple Tree:

Soon afterward, Tzu-yu fell ill and Tzu-ssu went to see him. “Great is the Creator!” said the sick man. “See how he (or it) has made me crumble up like this!”

His back was hunched and his backbone was protruding. His internal organs were on the top of his body. His cheeks were level with his navel. His shoulders were higher than his head. The hair on top of his head pointed up toward the sky. The yin and the yang in him were out of order, but his mind was at ease as though nothing had happened. He limped and walked quickly to the well and looked at his reflection, and said, “Alas! The Creator has made me crumbled up like this!”

“Do you dislike it?” asked Tzu-ssu.

“No,” said Tzu-yu, “why should I dislike it? Suppose my left arm is transformed into a cock. With it I should herald the dawn. Suppose my right arm is transformed into a sling. With it I should look for a dove to roast. Suppose my buttocks were transformed into wheels and my spirit into a horse. What need would have I have for a chariot again?

**the creator in this story means Nature, not a personal God, which also creates

What is it?

Tue, 22 Jan 2013 19:04:00 -0500

Most would say that an idea does not exist in actuality because it depends on a consciousness to maintain it, but a flame has the same kind of transient being. Without the conditions forming it, it would immediately disappear. In the same way, an idea, morality for example, depends on the collective existence of consciousnesses. What is to say that although an idea dies with what conceives it the idea does not exist just as much as the flame during its short life? After all, morals have effects just like physical substances do, exerting forces, although not in terms of Newtons, to peoples hearts in the form of guilt and love.

Usually we establish a dichotomy of absolutes, with an object either existing or not existing, but why not there be a gradient of existence, one object existing more than another? The existence of objects depending on others would be termed to have lesser existence than those independent.

But is anything independent? A ball’s existence depends on the law’s of physics holding its substance together and the atoms within it. Really, we could call these things part of the ball’s existence, and - along the same lines - why not call the collective consciousnesses and opinions forming a moral part of its existence? Maybe the common reason for thinking a moral to not exist is that it depends on more wavering grounds - humanity - although even that seems fairly rooted in our biology, which follows naturally from the state of the universe and evolution.

Things also seem to be defined by our use for them. A chair for example is a chair only because we have utility to sit in it. It could as easily be flipped and turned into a drum, and labeling the object limits it. Since no object has purpose independent of our interpretation (similar to how a flame only exists as an image, a summation of parts), it would then follow that there are no objective modes of existence - only existence and non-existence.

All these considerations, I think, have been asking one question: what do we mean by existence? I would propose that a better question is not whether something exists but rather if it’s useful.

The Four Causes - Interesting and Related

Knowing How ≠ Power

Thu, 17 Jan 2013 22:10:00 -0500

People in general hold the seemingly common-sensible idea that knowing how to do something is the mechanism of having the power to do it. While this proves true in many cases, the two concepts don’t always correlate.

Assuming you are a Homosapien and non-paraplegic, you have it within your power to lift your hand, but how exactly do you do it? If you observe closely enough, you will notice that nothing precedes the movement of your hand mechanically. Simply put, it just happens. You cannot explain how in actuality the nerves in your brain bounce signals that cross synapses and precede the contraction of your muscles, yet you can lift your hand, and in a way seeming totally irrelevant to the actual mechanisms.

For a more related example, how do pianist plays masterpieces? Or baseball all stars hit home runs? They simply don’t know how their bodies move or why, and asking them to consider the units of their music or tensing of their muscles will likely cause them to “over think” and choke during a performance. The most immense of skills are done effortlessly - without a moment’s consideration of “how”.

Also, in the same way that power does not necessarily imply knowing how, knowing how does not necessarily imply power. Some of the best literary critics understand how the flow of words fits together to pack its punch - or not pack it - but the pieces they write themselves are too smelly for the waste bin. Understanding the “how” of literature - or any art really - does not guarantee talent.

The whole idea of power really needs a revamp - one cognizant of the fallacy of “I” and the many perspectives subjective reality can assume. Before I go, I’ll leave you with an interesting Hindu idea (with my own little spin): God, you see, creates reality in every moment. It’s just that He doesn’t know how.

Sorry about not posting anything for a while guys.. but I’ve had to squeeze all my creative...

Tue, 08 Jan 2013 00:51:37 -0500

Sorry about not posting anything for a while guys.. but I’ve had to squeeze all my creative juices into scholarship essays. Once their submitted, I’ll post them.

If I Could Change One Thing About Me

Sun, 16 Dec 2012 21:32:00 -0500

If I could change one thing about me, then I would make me stronger.

I would temper these nerves of nickel in colder water,

fly higher than my fears could reach,

walk through life with arms wide open,

accept the hugs and heart-breaks and crucifixions.

Though every superman must have his kryptonite,

I would brag about my broken bones,

let courage sign the casts I earned,

as the scars and ailments formed their alphabets.

When the monsters under my bed did scream,

I would discover written under the covers bravery,

and defy the sandpits of the sandman’s dreams,

by leaping them with night-mares made my valiant steeds.

My brain could storm and toss thunderbolts

into the light bulbs of a self-confident creativity,

and no one, too, would raise their third finger,

or dare call me a four letter word.

Yes, the dangers might be terribly awesome,

my feelings might, at times, be mixed, blended, or creamed,

but I want to learn how to say something with conviction,

put my heart into living, even if that halts it from beating.

Here at the intersection of life, the stop light turned spot light,

I can pass my fingers along the wall, feel each day marked behind me.

Despite my hopes and fantasies, I really know the truth.

If I had the real bravery, I would be whoever I may be.