we can treat our mind as a huge probability engine. everything we encounter shapes the probability that we will respond in some way. it's this vast expanse of measurements, meters, dials - all these things being toggled by the subtlest of things around us, ever since birth.
so when you're studying, or doing any activity by practice, you're really trying to sway your internal probabilities to behave in a particular way, hopefully to your benefit on the exam/performance. it's about shaping not only the captain of the ship - your conscious - but also the crew members - your subconscious.
everything has been a probability in this universe, too. the probability that a particular star burst and eventually formed particles here and there forming planets and eventually the stardust from who knows where becomes you after probability of probability of probability of events occurring.
then where does free will come in? in this model, there is no free will. we model the human and any other living or nonliving thing as the result of events, which each have probability. you raise your hand in the air, you claim to do it by free will. but no. your existence was a probabilistic occurrence, and the occurrence of a neuron firing an electric signal from your brain to cause your arm to raise a probabilistic thing. a roll of dice: the result something measurable by the probability of those physical phenomena that caused that dice to exist and your hand to toss it like so.
a bit depressing, then, to have no free will? not really. a recursive element comes in when we recognize what we are. as probability machines, we decide what kind of internal probabilities do we want to toggle within us? this decision itself is a result of some probability, but it triggers and we suddenly have this recursive understanding of ourselves. we have created a paradigm through which to view our thoughts.
when do probability machines become self-conscious? similar to when does nothing but circuitry in a robot give the robot self-awareness? when we can re-evaluate how we are doing. there is some threshold in reasoning that lets us recognize ourselves. some "level 1." but a level 2 would be diving into this paradigm, perhaps - seeing ourselves as probabilities.
but then again, this is just a paradigm. 'probability' is an invented notion. how will we ever cease inventing terms that define how we perceive reality? we have no way of knowing what reality is; we only approximate it by our definitions, which shape our views. this probability view of the mind is just another, but maybe there's something more to it. a model for ourselves that will maybe be correct in creating intelligence on our own.
what's the point? how do we live our lives - as just the results of probabilities? well it certainly creates a nice thing to blame screwing up an exam on. you just didn't sway your internal probabilities to do enough in the face of particular problems at a particular time and place.
if anything this creates a potential lens through which we may look at the world. it shapes how we behave, how we create. having multiple lens is good for viewing different situations. I don't know if there's a correct model, but this might help us do things we cannot yet articulate.
Friday, December 13, 2013
Saturday, December 7, 2013
Improv on piano - how do you combine both hands and guarantee it sounds good?
Theory is amazing (in music, math, anything...): it lets you be lazy.
Know the key/basic chord progression, and play within it as the melody moves along. Simple as that.
The recipe for making up a piano rendition of a pop song:
Basic Chord/Key Progression + Ability to play melody by ear with few/0 mistakes + Creative movements within the current key
Basic music theory helps then - knowing your scales and chords and arpeggios and whatever.
Simple is good. Something that feels dead simple, like an arpeggio in the left hand while you play the melody in the right, sounds beautiful to most other listeners. And it should sound beautiful to you - when you realize how such a simple mechanism can yield such beautiful music.
Thursday, December 5, 2013
Invictus
Out of the night that covers me,
Black as the Pit from pole to pole,
I thank whatever gods may be
For my unconquerable soul.
In the fell clutch of circumstance
I have not winced nor cried aloud.
Under the bludgeonings of chance
My head is bloody, but unbowed.
Beyond this place of wrath and tears
Looms but the Horror of the shade,
And yet the menace of the years
Finds, and shall find, me unafraid.
It matters not how strait the gate,
How charged with punishments the scroll.
I am the master of my fate:
I am the captain of my soul.
-William Ernest Henley
(Source: http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/invictus/)
Tuesday, December 3, 2013
a deep breath / the mid state
take a deep breath before you plunge back in...
--
you won't find anything here, just worn out tapestries with the masking tape peeling off the walls leaving sticky marks. why keep reading when this is an abandoned place already? just a ghost wanders around amusing himself.
--
ready. the air is still seeping in.
skip around on the periphery of the castle walls, hearing the politics echo faintly and die down by the whistle of leaves from the woods. enjoy the fruits of management without being exposed to the underlying superficiality, the concoctions of trophies and medals and certificates and praise - without stepping too close to the reality of emptiness, the driving inventions that push ourselves on in a tower of glass that is shattering everywhere (but we can't see the cracks as we walk up the spiral staircase). all in all, enjoying the small creations they create for legitimacy (which are indeed necessary to sustain the organization) and appreciating the thought that goes into this complex management. they are amazing and I can learn from them.
a faint member, something between an outcast and a homely chef tossing suggestions under the cooking wall partition. a pleasure to be in the mid state.
--
proceed.
--
you won't find anything here, just worn out tapestries with the masking tape peeling off the walls leaving sticky marks. why keep reading when this is an abandoned place already? just a ghost wanders around amusing himself.
--
ready. the air is still seeping in.
skip around on the periphery of the castle walls, hearing the politics echo faintly and die down by the whistle of leaves from the woods. enjoy the fruits of management without being exposed to the underlying superficiality, the concoctions of trophies and medals and certificates and praise - without stepping too close to the reality of emptiness, the driving inventions that push ourselves on in a tower of glass that is shattering everywhere (but we can't see the cracks as we walk up the spiral staircase). all in all, enjoying the small creations they create for legitimacy (which are indeed necessary to sustain the organization) and appreciating the thought that goes into this complex management. they are amazing and I can learn from them.
a faint member, something between an outcast and a homely chef tossing suggestions under the cooking wall partition. a pleasure to be in the mid state.
--
proceed.
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