The Paradox of a Conflicted Nomad

Intro

Pendant que la paresse et la timidité nous retiennent dans notre devoir, notre vertu en a souvent tout l’honneur.

Nous oublions aisément nos fautes lorsqu’elles ne sont sues que de nous.

- La Rochefoucauld

Autobiographical montage and omnibiographical. Principles of simpler living not without exception. Non-invasive philosophies with a flair for intolerance. Stoic practices and infractions. Metaphysics of metaphysics. Digital minimalism. Analog minimalism. Closeted prodigality.

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In this self-reflexive tapestry accompanying a few nomadic years, the author struggles with such underlying issues as being with the crowd and yet not of the crowd, misaligned expectations, letting go of the unrecoverable, finding contentment in the particles of our existence, dealing with the complexity of modern pressures to connect and consume, simplifying the tools at our disposal (with a tendency towards the digitally-light and the open-source), mitigating sources of energy vis-a-vis sources of distraction, waging the never-ceasing inner battle to maintain healthier rapport with the more traditional aspects of our humanity while caught in a strife of paradoxes and counter-behaviors.

These and related issues the author explores through a combination of essays self-critiquing and outwardly, appealing to a largely casual demeanor beyond an infrequent scientific abstraction, ancient parallel or allegory and undeniably, an occasional involuntary outburst, engaging the reader in a sort of open ended interaction and leaving plenty semi-ambiguous for posterior insight.

Les choses

Decisions, trees, cycles

I’ve held recurring conversations with myself on the follies of the decision making paradigm. There is nothing stoic in these conversations. Off with them. But the torrents remain astir.

What do you make of it? Does not our mind tend to anchor in the past? On the consequences and the myriads of factors in our field of attention? Does not this harvesting of information create emotional and financial burden and complicate living?

Some pass years filled with regret. What if I’d done X over Y? Undertaken that certain risk? Or opted for inaction? Forgone one opportunity for another?

To conceive the alternate histories, the possibilities, the triggers, the incumbent variables, is to go mad. And how about the infamies of Stochasticity? Have we merely abstracted an otherwise mightier, bushier, savager growth? Does each occurrence stem deterministically when scrupled at the atomic resolution? Is there free will? But these questions I’d pursue no further.

I’ve come to visualize the decision space as a tree of virtually limitless expanse. My academic background is to thank or to scrutinize. You’d be surprised over the domains yielding happily to the model far beyond search algorithms, graph and game theory, probability, AI, computability and complexity theory, compilers, quantum computing and parallel processing.

It’s worth reminding that a tree, whether begot of nature or theory, interdicts cycles by definition. No two unique paths can exist between nodes. A flow chart, for instance, does not necessarily form a tree, enabling multiple decisions to lead to one and the same. On the other hand, you, my friend, are a sort of tree if you consider the network typology of your joints. Though I remain curious to hear of any cyclically jointed quadrupeds.

That said, I was nothing short of spellbound on the streets of Foz do Iguaçú at the sight of an anomaly. Rejoicing over the universe either having yielded to a more sinister design or a solid corroboration in favour of the simulation theory, a slice of the Occam’s razor1 quickly settled the dispute: the lichen-covered tree with its tangled, twisted branch pattern sinews vexed visualization. Initially attributed to a singular illness, I soon discovered more and more specimens of this humour.

Returning to the matters at hand, imagine your life as a path along a tree, events depicted by nodes encountered in course. Unfortunately you can only observe the route taken hitherto, not the countably infinite alternate histories comprising the divergent branches.

With what certainty could you trace an alternate course of an action anyway? Or inaction? What branch might such a trigger activate?

We witness much social stigma concerning risk, error mitigation and the subsequent learning. Yet what if indeed we observed the problem in a more abstract light of tree nodes representing actions, inactions, behavior we consider risky, safe, wayward or benign; and apply similar analysis to the gravity of the consequences?

How does regret factor within a branch? Perhaps in avoiding favourable decisions, we activate a branch for even more satisfactory outcomes? Or the avoidance of one fated decision creating an opportunity for three others? By similar argument, an infinite number of branches presents more learning opportunity, while another infinity leads to the contrary.

For such questions I can’t defer but to the Parcae sisters.

And do you consider yourself a relativist, an absolutist or of makeup entirely alien? A relativist can justify any course by acknowledging the endless arrays of less favourable realities, which an absolutist would attribute to mediocrity, otherwise advocating a firm platform of values. You may also find yourself in the middle.

The above also primes your reality. Your humour influences the path you ultimately pursue. An absolutist may undergo severe melancholy over having neglected own tenets. A heavily inclined relativist may derive bundles of success in relation to and even surpassing personal criteria. A stoic would deem such measures largely superfluous.

Your denomination in the above regard is part of the tree; as well as your determination to ruminate such matters or read this writing even: an event which might as far as influence my history.

I don’t propose any set behavior but argue over the futility of similar analytics. It burdens, consumes space and channels energy from more productive pursuit.

Or perhaps I propose one, a short-term memory approach to decision making. Do as you must to achieve what you desire. Maintain a working memory long enough to actually observe the outcome. Be patient. Assimilate useful precept for future decisions, though mind what you consider useful. Then disregard the remainder.

December 2018

1. that is to say, common wisdom

Randomness

As of the last few months I once again handwrite my journal entries. I then took a similar approach with most writings. I’m also experimenting with the classic 4x6’ index cards as means to interact with all sorts of matter. And why not occasionally perturb context when the old ways produce little of fruition, be it creative endeavours, reading mediums or even music listening?

By ways of intricate reasoning I align the rationale to fit the changing circumstance each time. Eureka! Am I that in need of supporting rationale to justify such deeds? Does pure whim lack sufficient foundation? Must I answer to myself in a matter suited less towards strategic planning and more towards mammalian intuition?

Some context realignment demands no rationale. We want change. Randomness shall author that change. Randomness is the prophet enabling us to grasp the elusive.

But covet not to seek universally favourable conditions. The pursuit knows no optimal parameters. Each case poses unique constraints. There is no free lunch.1

Contrary to matters of synthetic data analytics, when it comes to individual creativity, even a recurring problem may warrant a hypothesis shift. How else does it follow that what works today degenerates tomorrow? One does not yet synthesize creativity.

Let’s appeal to randomization. Rather than diligently systematize input or shave factors via the Okkam’s razor: embrace randomness, introduced at random intervals and whereabouts.

Today I may prefer the paper notebook by a wide wall-to-wall window facing a forested area, accompanied by a powdery potion of loose leafs. Later I may opt for a half empty gourmet café bar, away from laptop displays of calendar suites, social bulletins and e-commerce, all the while the barista busies with the simple yet effective manipulations of espresso machines, french presses, pourovers, grinders, porcelain cups and decanters. Occasionally I derive inspiration from oversized gaming machines, loose wiring mayhem or soulless angular interiors lacking a single living plant. Epiphanies have likewise paid their regards in the intoxication of North-Irish breakfast pubs.

The unknowns know no bounds. In lieu of vain attempts to prop the theatrical stage with too many a decoration, consider randomness. It finds promising results not only in scientific disciplines but creative pursuit, charting unexpected, yet favorable courses.

July 2019

1. A Learning Theory proverb

The diverse imaginings of man

For many, 20__ marks the gravest point in history as every year preceding. Many foresee the impending apocalypse, existence spotted by the oblique rays of decadence. Solid ground lost all but strictly figurative meaning. Others see an exciting period of hope and reform. Some consider each new year, each successive moment, the best yet.

One may own nothing, yet feel appreciative and even enlightened. One may, on the other hand, be privileged with all modern spoil society vaunts on window displays, all the while consumed by nihilism.

One may likewise undertake varying roles with time. After much perseverance, a pawn becomes the queen only to find itself immediately deposed. Another pawn becomes the queen by sheer happenstance, surmounts the upper empyrean ranks only to ultimately sulk in indifference.

Some seek a defining strategy, varying direction in response to changing circumstance only to lose all sight of pursuit. Others pursue nothing and attain much. Many attain precisely what they don’t want, having employed substantial artifice to avoid it.

Another exerts theatrical effort to not only avoid but appear to sabotage the deed, while deemed a perfectionist. What is it I once wrote or plagiarized? One has to not want the thing they want in order to attain it, and one certainly must not ask for it.

Believe in the total freedom of choice. Believe in the necessarily restricted freedom. Believe in unwavering determinism. Perceive the freedom as inhibiting; chains as revelational. Subscribe to complex models or yield to naive simplifications in midst of recognized unknowns. Meticulously pursue or eliminate. Restart randomly, geometrically or follow your own heuristic. Acknowledge meaning or disregard. Gradually occupy your mind, aggressively seek emptiness or uphold any fraternity of paradigms.

January 2019

Paratrooper, 1980

Remember that pixilated logo with a fragment of Bach’s Toccata and Fugue in D minor over the raunchy six-bit acoustics? ... That immobile and unprotected gun turret mounted on a perfectly square podium ... Swiveled in a limited range ... Aim, fire. Helicopters hovering over, back, forth, back, forth. Paratroopers deployed. The occasional bomber jet seeking to devastate your turret with unmistakable precision.

Remember the palette of nothing but the black, white, magenta and cyan sufficient to render the paratrooper uniforms, air artillery and the turret? The helicopter flight screeching, shell firings, bomb deployment, aircraft explosion, paratrooper homicide, turret delivery.

Remember the retaliated air attacks? Targeting the helicopters or the deployed paratroopers? With four safely landed on either side, the measured approach, the three-man pyramid formation, the while the fourth scales above and disintegrates the turret from the fabric of space.

Remember as the paratrooper opens the parachute within seconds once airborne? The descent velocity wouldn’t much alter between the two states. But that’s beside the point. Equally irrelevant is the air artillery and drop altitude that, if approximated to scale, extends to less than fifty meters above.

Target the trooper directly or aim for the parachute. In the former case, this one instantly perishes and in the latter, plummets to death at still the same upright posture and velocity, a momentary skull-and-bone insignia yielded upon impact. With fortune, the precipitating corpse destroys any figure already underneath, the latter never budging a millimeter until the four gather to execute the pyramid maneuver. These men epitomize fearlessness, stoicism, stern devotion. The title, Paratrooper, speaks for itself.

Consider the horrific war panorama of piercing shells, helicopter raids, relentless paratrooper jumps, explosions, decapitations, all for the sake of eradicating that one forlorn, unmanned gun turret. Then slowly, the death scorched sky begins to clear. Sinister silence reigns for a handful of seconds which feels an eternity. How often have we seen silence in a premonitory function within suspenseful storytelling?

That’s when suddenly appears the bomber jet. It emits not a fricative sound. The suspense attains extraordinary tension. The next instance it unleashes a single but flawlessly maneuvered grenade. This one gracefully approaches the turret as the speaker ejaculates that gradually diminishing, diabolical pitch.

Our recourse, bipartite: either preempt the bomber jet prior to the attack, or destroy the very bomb already in course with our own