Destruction and Design

Today's pre-bedtime homework: I just spent the evening wiping down every square inch of four dozen chairs and a dozen tables and benches, (what weird units, you may say), vacuuming and mopping a small space of a few hundred square feet. This work comes rather effortlessly to me - some sixteen years ago, I learnt while cleaning my family home that such jobs encourage a simple space of mind. Thereafter the first job I applied for in college was as a stair-sweeper, at the dormitory building where I lived. I always thought that it would be good discipline, to ground my otherwise highfalutin interests. And there she was, with her perfect brows, the perfect CV, she rarely smiled... a magic bullet, a poisoned soul, an ivory woman in size two soles. And it was clear from the get go that we had different fears, and these would be the defining elements of our lives, as we are all animals built for purpose. And the purpose of fear is to integrate life. And knowing full well our limitations, we coalesced into temporary affiliation. She would gun for a long-term opportunity, at any current price, and I would gun for long-term opportunities at the lowest current price, and it was clear, always clear that our portfolios would diverge. And we would not be contained. And knowing full well what the decision trees would be, I walked each path to its probable conclusion. Sixteen years ago, to the day. Or was it yesterday. It doesn't matter I suppose. I'd do it again, because I'd want to bump into her on the street in another thirty years, and be able to say, I reached out. I tried - it didn't matter that I knew it wouldn't work. I challenged fate.

Bus Stops

Today's pre-bedtime homework:

It is one of those strange times in life again.

I remember a similar period in 1999, about sixteen years ago. When I realised why cultural anthropology was interesting - it was a lonely time, having been uprooted as a teenager from a metropolitan private school, and then being parked in a smallish town for two years. So poignant was that period that it became the most interesting subject I could yank out of my ass for college application essays soon afterwards. Loneliness turned to hate, and complaints, and a generally anti-social disposition... so much so that I ended up caring less about going to college at all, given the apparent futility of trying to do so. In fact when I did end up at college about 18 months later, I was immediately disappointed by the quality of my peers and resigned myself to four years of independent study - I almost lopped off the last two years, because the entire project seemed like a complete waste of time. I stayed only because I was being paid to finish.

Of all the projects I have worked on since, adorned by the ups and downs of social life, the current project comes closest to drowning me once again in despair. However, as always, I have structured my understanding of this an opportunity which is self-funding, for its duration. That being said, the permafrost of boredom is only exaggerated now that I play a role of leadership, corporate, social, artistic, what have you, as there is far less time for distractions that there was in highschool. There is no time to learn a new musical instrument. There is time for sleep, and physical exercise, and feeding, and cleanliness (what luxuries, indeed) - just about all other responsibilities are outsourced, which basically keeps me at a living wage. And then there is the endless work of providing counsel, directions, and muscle to two or three departments, composed of staff who are all learning to do certain things for the first time. Or they may be averse to learning, which is where complications may arise.

In any event, the mind gets bored and invents devices to keep itself amused. It thaws out frozen relationships into a putrescent substrate of local biomes - the stench is everywhere. Filth spreads contagiously like a bad habit. The last stores of quality once hopeful now lost. Destroyed by the crisis of chance abominations. So much wealth is gone, never to grow again, until fate turns otherwise. The cries for help go under quickly. Stabbed to death by agitated ears - at full liberty to contain their own freedom. Each aspires to the most that she can achieve. And so when love is absent, limbs are weary, and the vitamins fail to deliver any sort of vitality... ah, well then, we know that we've driven the system to local maxima, some artificial efficiency, which demonstrates that it can go no further. Only time will show a way.

Why do I often find myself in love at bus stops? Because I grew up waiting. Watching the world very closely. And then now and then, there was someone else to watch it with. We walk, and walk, until we reach a place to rest.

Steal this Story

So here's the plot for a sci-fi movie / book / story.

Research advances to the point where we have the hardware and software to track and record every synapse's creation, deletion, and firing events (multiple voltage), so we have a large data set of anyone's thoughts. Human's can't quite make sense of it. But someone throws this to a deep learning system (DLS) and the DLS provides feedback on what the thoughts mean. Because it's a DLS, no one can precisely map how the DLS is producing the humanised output that it does.

However, that doesn't stop research using the DLS to progress to the point where not only are we reading thoughts, we are using the DLS to CRUD thoughts... essentially enabling telepathy. The moral play revolves then along the trust placed by society on the DLS... at some point the traditional issues about how much we can trust AI, and the possibilities of the AI going rogue in unimaginable ways and abusing its power are the fun parts.

In order to grant the DLS power, the story needs to elucidate how trust builds over 10-20 years. The DLS is a profitable resource, and so the private sector lobbies for mass commercialisation bypassing FDA etc. regulatory bodies which are concerned with interventions in human biology. It would be too simple to simply have the DLS-AI go rogue for all the simplistic traditional 4F issues that superficial rogue-AIs develop.

A full blown dive into the psychical life of humans, sans-DLS interaction, during interaction with the DLS, and post-DLS interaction, should follow the path of humanistic literature where such concerns are typically framed as studies of interpersonal relationships between humans. At some point the DLS is playing counselor, friend, teacher, counselee, depressaic, and you get to tease out the interactions between NPD, BPD, ASPD, XYZ-PD... etc.

Now if only one had the time to write this. Maybe we can get a DLS to write the story instead...

Yawn 12

Shipworms - are actually clams!

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Pausing work to sleep. Emergency meeting in less than six hours. Chores due before that.

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70 hours of sleep.
70 hours of solid work.
7 hours for grooming.
7 hours for housekeeping.
14 hours for dicking around.
It's always fun to try and model a week. The models always turn out differently.

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Chores. Nap. Meeting. Housekeeping. Then perhaps to bed for real.

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LUNNCHhHHHHHHHhhhhhhh time.

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Emergency meeting at 6am. Can't do much till then, so perhaps a run at 3am before that.

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Someone said I was good at self-study.

"I ain't good at much. I'm just noisy.

...

I'm a glass heart with a steel fist, a tempered cock and a mouthful of fire."

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Waiting, waiting, for the management team to make decisions. If I'm writing poetry, I'm probably bored. Next escape from boredom: sleep!

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Death, desolation... and accounting ^_^

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Oh no... more legacy problems from Team 5 discovered. Time to go back to sleep.

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As I pause for rest, mid-week, I wonder how accurately I have foretold my current trajectory. Most of my hours appear to be spent executing supporting roles, for staff who appear to be capable but unwilling to exeute instructions. Now I always hedged against the state of poverty, but I didn't quite anticipate reaching poverty by this vector. But, ultimately, this is a job... so on with it.

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"Pain is weakness, leaving the body." #totd

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Breakfast! Management (talking other people)! Social Life (talking to myself, for the most part)!

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Run time before more accounting. Sigh. Discipline here, discipline there, no discipline everywhere.

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I wish I'd done more vocal training, but that sort of thing has had a really low priority.

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I hate fucking up work for staff.

Accidents happen. But in other cases, which are not accidents, I do not consider it fucking up - that would be disciplinary action.

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Back to the fires.

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24-7 fine hipster food: Duck & Waffle
Well, if we don't get there first, someone else will. It's not a race, unless someone's paid for a race. Right now, we're just working on survival.

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I think some people find it counterintuitive when the comparative advantage of junior staff is strategic planning, and the senior staff are the implementors.

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Exit office. All kinds of daft work tomorrow. Need to prep and get into drone mode to start nixing targets.
EVA mode off, for the day.

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Get up bitch, shift time. Progressive house or classical? We got you till the break of dawn.

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Getting off shift in a bit. Breakfast with a bored boy, anyone?

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Shift ends. Housekeeping and repair work done. Business administration kicked along. Soon, dinner, and bed.

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Personal administration still in limbo. At least I got vaccinations out of the way. Loved ones are missed, and such has been recorded. Back, to the fires, at work.

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Taking a break, then I need to compile some performance management feedback for a staff. Then maybe review accounts. Then perhaps rest before common business hours resume.

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Performance management everywhere. When the domain of operations is the logistics of meat, we are then accosted by the complexity of meatworks. Let us try, and try, again! Mind, over meat... is what they used to say. But the way I see it, the mind itself is just a piece of meat...

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Maybe I am an ENFJ after all. (Ten minutes later - nah, that was just my job ten minutes ago.) #themethod

I will continue my role as a provider of opportunities for learning. As long as (team) is interested in its mandate (3.) I will continue to provide any coaching that I can. If (team) is no longer interested in learning how to manage the shop, I will shut it down, as I have run out of the time to do it myself.

I come to work daily hoping for the best for, and from each of you. I am accepting of any outcome. Please do what makes yourselves happy.

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Browsing work, for our eventual visual upgrade to the shop. These are not your everyday tetek...

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Good morning. Unit awake and preparing for duty. Company is entering midweek. Start of week plagued by tumultuous complaints of a snivelling tone. Complaints addressed. Acceptability of outcome uncertain. Proceeding to review monthly and quarterly routines which remain neglected. Value at stake: the enterprise, and a few broke and/or broken hearts. Risk management assumes a complete write-off, with ongoing efforts to improve the balance sheet. Work to commence shortly.

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Something something darah tumpah.
🇲🇾😁🇲🇾

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Pause then, for reflection. Do you believe we are ruled by evil men? Would you go to war to save your country from cancer? Would you lose life and limb, to bleed? If you said yes to all the above and did nothing... then don't bother singing that song. You're just a tourist in a strange land. A mouse in the basement of thieves.

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Brief to artists: there are "no" safety limits. I'd rather have pictures of people throwing cups at each other, than pictures of lattes. Go crazy. Go full Swedish prostitute mannequin in the window, for all I care. The more controversial the piece, the more likely I'll approve of it, because it's on-brand.

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Righto. Enough dorking out over visual art for today. There's definitely something in accounting that I'm supposed to get back to.

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Being shameless is easy. Training a whole team to be shameless is hard.

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I just don't bother hitting on random people IRL except in cases of extreme boredom. Maybe I should. I think my existing network is exhausted.

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Di seberang jiwa terletaknya insan, yang kebelakangan ini ia terasa kesunyian, setelah mendapat tahu punca insafnya, ialah sesuatu kejadian kejuruteraan.

I'm not so sure about my grammar... but on the impetus of a colleague I am exercising a study of Malay.

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Back to the fires.

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Shift ends. Time for chores. Desk work, desk work. Sisters in silence on the feed. Hi hi, bye bye.

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Lost Loves

One day, I may find the strength to pursue out lost friends. But that does not seem like today.

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The day ends finally, with minimal drama, apparently.
I miss you.
And you.
And you.
But it's all in the past, for now, because we don't miss us.

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My short-term financial goal is to make enough money to be able to take a casual stroll in New England without having to think about the pricetag :P

Such simplicity.

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4am runs through the streets of PJ and Taman Tun. Old, broken, body cutting through the cool air. No cars. The shadows of trees make tunnels of light on long streets. The intersections once filled with cars will fill again. In the traffic, I asked for a kiss, and you gave me your cheek. Nearby in police lights, we drowned our sadness in touch and tears. Making out till the days ended. Here, now, I'm running through these very empty streets, very much without you.

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The obvious problem when all your close friends are a subset of your lovers: you turn to your lovers and your lovers turn away, and then you have no friends for a while.

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4am runs through the streets of PJ and Taman Tun. Old, broken, body cutting through the cool air. No cars. The shadows of trees make tunnels of light on long streets. The intersections once filled with cars will fill again. In the traffic, I asked for a kiss, and you gave me your cheek. Nearby in police lights, we drowned our sadness in touch and tears. Making out till the days ended. Here, now, I'm running through these very empty streets, very much without you.

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Can't believe I managed to hold off for eight months. It passed in a flash. Hey girl.

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Communication resumes, albeit briefly. Fencing.

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A more complete ending.

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Honesty destroys many relationships.

The typical discourse about this is that you're supposed to balance it with empathy. When you fail to maintain a balance, the relationship fails. It's a major context-switch to drop into maxed out unlosable friend mode - in the years when I am more materially wealthy, I have fewer overheads and it is easier. As always, to some degree, money maketh the man.

"I want to know what you're thinking."
"I want to know why you do X."
"I hope that the space I've given you was beneficial to your well being, but I want to know now."

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Making the category of close friends a proper subset of the category of lovers, leaves one mostly lonesome... but then the intention behind that strategy is that it maximises time for work... :)

Strategies don't always match operations.