Archive for February, 2015

Here we go again..

Wednesday, February 18th, 2015

I have once again put 127.0.0.1 www.facebook.com in /etc/hosts.

I do this every time facebook makes me more sad than happy. It’s been happening more and more frequently. I even found myself posting “what I mostly wish about social media is that it would go away”. The thing is, I’m not antisocial. I had a great time at corifornia, and hanging out with Sarah and Alex, and expect to have a good time at CABI’s pig party. What I apparently am is anti-social-media.

Maybe it’s all the religious posts, when religion is something I’m busy uninstalling. Maybe it’s the pro spanking your children posts, when I still can’t visualize someone hugging me without seeing them physically attack me. Maybe it’s all the republican posts, or the posts criticizing people for celebrating their love, or the “here’s how awful people are being” posts about AIDs and gay people. (I’d call that a religious post, or perhaps a ignorant post)

It’s harder and harder not to comment, not to raise to their bait. And I’ve lost too many friends already. How many are too many? Apparently one is too many. (Actually, in point of fact I think I’ve lost three that are still living). I want social media to go away, I want the news to go away, and then I’d like to take a crack at money. Once that’s gone, I think I’d like pair bonding as a way of life to go away, and then I think I would take a shot at religion. Human misery, suffering in general, yes, there’s a lot of things I’d like to go away.

Where’s my love train riding from coast to coast? McDonalds is selling love, but where is my random hug from a stranger? I have a few friends who have been sending me a lot of positive things lately and I really appriciate that, but I wish the number was much larger.

Superbowl ads..

Sunday, February 1st, 2015

I was pleased at the amount of positive content that was in the most recent set of superbowl ads. I don’t think corporate america is going nearly positive enough, but at least they are heading in a positive direction.

As far as whatever happened to break my neural net.. I don’t want revenge. I just want it to stop being broken.

Blame

Sunday, February 1st, 2015

So, it’s fairly clear to me that in the conventional sense, blame is pointless. Knowing who is responsible for the damage to my neural network won’t fix it. On the other paw, because a neural network stores data associated with other data, knowing who was responsible does help me figure out where exactly to look for the damage.

One of the more frustrating realities I live with is that I can’t imagine someone (Vicky is a favorite for this but I can demonstrate it with almost anyone) hugging me without seeing them physically attack me. I don’t have control over my own imagination where it comes to visual rendering. This is creepy as anything, especially when they start using knives or other weapons. I struggle over and over to complete the exercise.. I also generally can not remember the experience of having received affection from someone. I assume that these are related and the result of some profoundly weird neural wiring.

My mother facebook-posted something about how blaming other people was bad. Now, insofar as I’m responsible for all my neural wiring from the edge on in, and I shouldn’t have been subscribing to datastreams coming at me that involved violence or coercion, I get that it is at least somewhat my fault that I’ve had a set of experiences that have damaged me. On the other paw, I started out my ride on Earth close to tabla rasa – I didn’t have anything to work with, no context to use for knowing I should have been filtering out – or fighting against – some of the experiences I was having.

And, of course, I don’t really know if my family really did something bad to me or not. Because, as aforementioned, I could have very well created traumatic experiences out of whole cloth, simply via poor choices for mental configuration, about the only variable I can speak of with any certainty at all (and even that I can’t speak of with a great deal) is me.

I wish less people were having children. Until we understand the set of circumstances which led to my mind doing whatever it did or is doing, should we really be bringing more people here? Something is badly wrong here – and I don’t think I’m the only one having a disturbingly suboptimal experience.