THE GHOST OF THE COMPUTER

I have reached a point in my purging where I know that it is entirely possible to adopt a perspective merely because it is interesting to do so. There is no way to quantify belief. One can say that he believes in god, and we have not yet developed a physical way of observing that one actually does believe in god, in a material way. We have neurological scanning technology that can visualize the chemical processes at work, but all they tell us is that the individual is experiencing the act of belief. I want my brain to be a clearinghouse for ideas, a sacred ground where all ideas and perspectives are considered equally. My eventual neurological scans will reveal religious beliefs, I suppose. It is quite rational to believe in god despite a lack of physical evidence to support the case. Belief is a conscious choice, a selection of an emotional process over a rational one, and it is arrived at via reason. I will explore all avenues of human thought and expression and life, adopting any belief system as I see fit, believing none, believing all.

Once mankind has accepted that the thing we have chosen to call the soul is really nothing more than our personalities or our collected intelligences, then human thought and discourse can get truly interesting. If we are willing to stake a belief in a human soul, then, why are we not willing to take the same leap to inquire as to the nature of the machine’s soul? It's just as immaterial as the human soul and the odds are about the same of proving its existence. What does an appliance feel? Does a computer have dreams? (See Douglas Coupland’s Microserfs wherein the protagonist tries to create a subconscious for his computer by creating a random folder and interesting random text files of information. What else is the human subconscious but all the information we filter through our brains, all of the clutter that we don’t know what to do with? A computer’s subconscious is more relevant than any theory of a human subconscious, anyway, because we can at least point to an actual folder that is the machine’s subconscious.)

Further food for thought: computer software is dependent upon line after line of binary code, endless sequences of data which inform the technology’s function and usage. It can only do what it is programmed to do. Well. Sounds similar to human coding, DNA, genetics, right? What if human begins are nothing more than the genetic equivalent of a player piano, acting out some predestined, scripted existence? Perhaps our entire lives are already written out in a long strand of genetic coding? More to the point, if humans are willing to believe that we have a soul despite the absence of any tangible evidence to justify our having this belief, then we should be just as ready to believe that our computers have souls, too, and perhaps our houses are haunted by the ghosts of our discarded toys, washing machines, microwaves, and television sets. This will be a key to the initial work that I will produce over the next couple of years, where one realizes that belief in nothing is ultimately belief in everything, since saying that we are all wrong and all explanations for the existence of life are meaningless and lacking is also saying that all explanations are valid and you can freely pick and choose from any existing belief systems, and even create new ones. Nothing is everything and we’re all right because we’re all wrong.

When you open yourself up to the possibility of the ghost of the computer, then you open yourself up to the possibility that artificial intelligence is just as valid as human intelligence. Digital is just as valid as analog, a point that digital filmmaking, which will be the medium through which I express myself until I can afford others, must ultimately make due to the fact that it will be created through digital (that is, pixilated) processes. What we must point out is that digital information is nothing more than a tangible expression of the stuff of the universe; cells and colored light. What we perceive in a film is no less relevant than the stimuli that we perceive in our everyday lives. This is the path to truth, the only way the human line of thought can continue. This leads us to the acceptance that science and religion are really the same things, just ways of explaining the universe, and ultimately are all part of the all-encompassing continuum of human expression and feeling and evolved behaviors. Science is the rational side of life, the order-seeking side, the 1s and 0s binary code of life, while religion points to the supernatural, the part of the human mind that wants to tear structure and logic asunder. Once we see that science/religion, digital/analog are really the exact same thing, we free ourselves to the possibility of anything, literally everything being possible. The ghost of the computer becomes real. So too does the soul of the appliance.

I stood beneath a tree today with my brother and we talked about how small the tree used to be when we were younger. We looked at its branches and how long they stretched now, and stared at the roots in awe. They too reached out from the base of the tree, like a child becoming an adolescent becoming an adult, moving out into the world, finding out what how it processes and perceives the world. And then I thought about chopping the tree down, and how I could never do that, and how even if I were to take an axe to the thing, maybe the stump that was left in the ground as a reminder of the tree's brilliance would go on existing for thousands of years. The basic matter of the tree would remain in existence into infinity, and so maybe the tree itself would, too. And this lead to me considering the minute, sub-atomic ways in which we are only now learning that the human species receives and processes information, and that in turn forced me to consider that maybe, perhaps, in some way, after the human brain ceases functioning and we die, maybe we still continue taking in stimuli and processing it. It is an extremely biased, anti-intellectual stance to say that the human brain can detect and process every bit of information we receive from every dimension of reality. Maybe the remotest parts of our being, the very smallest pieces of genetic material we consist of, goes on into eternity. Maybe we all get to live forever in ways we never even came close to dreaming were possible and our every anxiety about death and destruction is wholly unfounded. Maybe (probably) we are all wrong about reality and the truth is something that we could never even hope to conceive of (yet). Regardless, it occurs to me that the only way to obtain this knowledge is through science. Religion is static, the most conservative, concrete way of thinking possible, and it is nearing irrelevance. To me, anyway.

Zzzzimilies

The eternal debate rages on; do people prefer to sleep "like a baby" or "like a rock"? (If you're one of those "sleep of the dead" people you can fuck right off, weirdo.) People have been arguing about this for years, but it's time to settle the score. Travis Martin is setting the deal straight once and for all!

First off, I'm not all that familiar with what babies sleep like (I only sleep next to, like, two babies per year), so it's a little hard to be impartial. But my impression is that babies sleep the sleep of the deranged, waking up every hour, crying, screaming, evacuating their bowels and bladders without a care in the world. In other words, if you sleep like a baby, you sleep like a retard, jack, and I don't want that simile in our lexicon any longer. Who would want to sleep like a baby? Only a sick culture, one that reveres the rights of children above those of adults, one that places a premium on stupid, fleeting youth, could invent such an inane expression. Slept like a baby. As if!

I wouldn't take this so personally if there wasn't a perfect expression floating around; sleep "like a rock". What a lovely turn of a phrase! What a sort of Zen like image to ponder and use in our conversation. Sleeping like a baby is a regression, devolution, a return to the cradle. When one sleeps like a rock, however, one alters their genetic make up entirely and becomes like a rock, unthinking, uncaring, immobile. Peace. Americans don't want to think about negation, deconstruction, about the quiet and solace that comes from nothingness, losing yourself in the abyss. We would be happier if we learned to accept the void. Give up control. Stand in awe before the all-consuming mouth of pure light and color and experience. Allow it to engulf you. Analysis is for the deathbed and the fearful. Step into the wilderness of the soul and be made into something new. This is what I'm doing, and it's the only thing I've tried that brings me any semblance of peace. I want to bathe in white noise. I want to be cleansed by the static. I want to become the void.

I will become the void.