Trains: and other tracts of thought.
2003-06-08 - 1:03 a.m.
Amendum: At some point between this entry and the next, Mitch and I spent a night solidifying our philosophy about human cognition and belief systems. We decided that humans use several different types of systems of thought to organize and link their thought processes. Each person, to some extent, uses all of these systems: iconic (consisting of just pictures and things that look alike), linguistic (consisting of just words or things that sound alike), mathematical (consisting of just numbers or varying intensities of real numbers by their relations to each other), and abstracts (due to conditioning, a sound may be linked to a colour or smell or number or vice-verca). But some people are more apt to remember, say, a number, by remembering the �rhythm� of the numbers, while others �see� the numbers clearly in their head, and still others see the numbers as variation of intensities of numberstuff, in the same way that a person looks at a canvas and sees intensities of colourstuff. We then judged these systems to be inherent in all human beings, and thus discovered what the problem with neural networking is�it only takes into account the mathematical system. Neural networks are �complicated�, as we say, because they are not readily available to anyone�s mind, due to the fact that they are 100% mathematical (this is to say, based on intensities or �weights�), and no person inherently sees the world in a purely mathematical system. This answers the original question that Mitch posed: isn�t it strange that the science of neural networks, which is supposed to be inherent to human cognition, not itself inherent? Why is neural networking so complicated to learn, if we are born with the system in our minds?
the question of beliefs and how our systems for finding Truth differ (to which we had been talking about prior) served to me much more complicated, and forced us to give in to several exceptions (such as that Mitch doesn�t believe in anything) and metaphorical representations. we decided that Mitch uses stickytape, sitting in wait for Truth to come close enough (from an educated and respectable source combined with empirical research and support) so it will rest and take root on the moist and information-rich inner surface of his skull. he waits until he knows all about something, until he decides what is True, and holds on to it. So far, as i pointed out, this system has caught Truth. we then decided that i have a have a sifting or straining mechanism, placed between two containers labeled �possible� and �true�, respectively. the first container accepts everything for consideration, especially conflicting truths, and regards them as Truth until such time that they can be proven no to be. the second container accepts things which i decide i want to temporarily entertain as Truth, either because it was sitting in the �possible� box for a long time without being disproved, or because it seems a beneficial/good thing to think. it is important to note that very few things are considered True for very long before being carefully observed and then discarded as untrue. there is also a root-trunk-branch system, with which similar truths or the combined statements thereof make up sort of ramified set of statements from a more simple �trunk� statment. this is how Goblin�s forest is built. my system is actually very inefficient, because it causes me to have to rethink everything that i do, to decide what it is that i believe in, so that i can make a decisions based on that temporary Truth. not sure yet, what Mitch�s decision process is.
June4, take two. went for a ride with Chris (future roommate) to the BMW dealership, a few towns over. thought of a surprisingly large number of non-appalling conversation starters, and the silent parts of the ride weren�t too excruciating. when i got back with the key, however, it only worked on the doors, and not the ignition, which is what i thought i was getting (but i wasn�t unhappy to have a door key, because i didn�t have one at all before). spent the rest of the day in my car, or going back and forth from it. eventually, i learned how to hotwire the car. i feel that by doing so, i�ve done something wrong, hurt my babygirl. this feeling is compounded by the knowledge that this car is �the best thing that�s ever happened to me�. she gave me the one thing i never had, freedom. the ability to start over. was it foolish to assume that we would be taking this journey together? evidently so. even after this realization, Mitch and i probed the stairs for hours, trying to get the key out, but we probably only succeeded in burying it farther. something about suicide and a couple hours later, i came to the realization that it was more important to me to get the car working than it was that i have food for the next couple weeks�some sort of honourable duty i owed to the car, a duty to save her in the same way she saved me. and it felt very odd, having a one-track mind for a short period of time�very nearly dangerous. Mitch is talking on the phone just outside the door, relating the �trail of sweat� that was today. already lived the day once, and really don�t care to hear every little detail of it again.
June4, take three. and so began the plan to smash the stairs. still without a key, and tried to go through the back, remove one brick here and there to get my key out from under the stairs. unfortunately, i broke my screwdriver about halfway through the process of using it like a chisel, and once i got nearly through the first brick, Mitch pointed out that the wall is slightly more than two bricks thick. like breaking out of jail. also today, Mt. Ida College sent me an e-mail, saying that the $11.92 i send them isn�t good enough because they need in two separate checks (5$ of which was meant to be used for transcripts to be sent to HVCC). i sent her a mean e-mail back, proclaiming and pointing out the absurdity that she wanted to either a) have me spend an additional dollar to mail them another two checks just to pay my 6$ college bill, or b) refund me the 5$ in the mail, so that when it arrives i could cash it and send them an additional 5$. it�s getting late in the year, and i�m honestly starting to worry if any college will accept me at all. i�d have to start paying back school loans without a completed associate�s degree, which means working at a gas station for the rest of my life, possibly longer, if they have gas stations in hell. so far, have not been gotten a job in the funeral business because i do not have a completed degree, haven�t lived in New York for a year, and don�t have a running car. but fortunately for me, Don was kind enough to go down and give the people at my Mt. Ida some practical ideas that most likely caused the universe to explode, in a massive conflict of administrative chaos and formal logic.
June4, take one. Sarah is arriving in Maine today, for the first time in two years. brought her husband (Ashton the Cowboy) and her unborn fetus (Nevada? Ohio? they�re naming the kid after one of those states) to introduce them to the family, and the ocean (specifically, sea cucumbers). Sister is having her graduation in a few days, and i�ll miss this as well, because i haven�t found a job down here yet, and just don�t have the money the trip would require. Grandma wanted to get everyone together, to see all her grandchildren because she �hadn�t been doing so well� (one of those common phrases you hear in the funeral industry). i can�t be there, and it sucks.
would like to put down the bottom line, about Dyani, considering that i plan to tell her about this web-place in the near future, assuming Sister can find her number for me in the shallow remains of the-stuff-called-�mine�, left behind in my move to freedom. the bottom line is, i just may never know what�s going on. we come from very different environments, and i do think we look kinda funny together, but that�s entirely because i look funny next to anyone. i know that i am very nervous around her, overthinking and rethinking every breath and inch of my movement, but this is because i think, for whatever reason, that my actions around her might actually Mean something. i am careless in most of my relationships, many (especially my friendship with mitch) to the point where i generally just piss people off. and the nervousness and attraction are so convoluted and fouled-up with each other that i find it hard to define one from the other, unless i an in some way artificially relaxed. being drunk or stoned with her, however, will not solve this problem, because then she�s not her, and i�m not me, and i�d never get to know her any better than a giraffe know the inside of it�s ear. the bottom line is, that she is another one of those wonderful persons that i�ll likely never see again.
Related Sidenote: Zullay, on the other hand, is an integral part of the same issue, because i don�t want to disturb they�re relationship. very cool girl, but someone i am much more casual around, which makes all the difference.
June7. a day of rest�a day of sitting around and talking with the people Mitch lives with. Mike: works on the polymer coating for the new hydrogen fuel cells which will be used as an alternate source of power as soon as gasoline becomes too expensive, or the US owns all of the Middle East, whichever comes first. good sense of humour, nice guy all around, with a slightly overbearing kung-fu girlfriend. Tim: works in a different location on a similar part of the hydrogen fuel cell project. from what i hear, very Christian.
June6. eventually, i came to find out that there is not a public-access computer within two miles distance of here. walked all around downtown, not wanting to use my car for fear of misplacing her, and needing to learn the streets anyway. hill�s stationary people looked at me through the glass door, but pretended i wasn�t there, even though it was during business hours. one cabbie-girl and a bank later, i arrived at a semi-local library, where i printed off my resumes for exorbitant amounts of money, but the refused to give me a library card because i couldn�t prove where i lived, only who i had been. mailed out applications to funeral homes just after the post office closed, and got home to hear a message from father about how the resume to the locksmith shoppe didn�t go through. got the key for my ignition, and an extra just in case i were to loose the first, but the locksmith wanted the money in cash, so he followed me to the Key Bank up Hoosick Street, and i must have stalled at least three times. this does not help my job prospects, though i had explained to him that i learned (still have not yet Learned) to drive standard in basically two days, and hadn�t driven in a week.
June5. broke down and called a locksmithing service to make a key for my car. most places refused to do it flat out, because the car is so old, and the lowest quote i could get was $145 for a single key. Mitch�s landlord was bitching me out about the damage we did to the front steps when the locksmith showed up. started to rain, so i sat in the passenger seat, and he talked about some of the stuff he does for work (i�ll refer to it a locksmith shoppe from this point onward, but the company also does magnetic cards, and bank safes, etc.) sounded really interesting, and i eventually asked the locksmith if the company was considering anyone for a trainee position. ignition to my car didn�t have a valid code, and/or has been replaced, so the locksmith took it back to the shoppe with him to work on it. several holes in my ignition now, drilled because he thought the release mechanism was at ten-o-clock, but was really more one-thirty.
June3. one of the neighbours confronted me today, to inform me that my car was parked in from of his house, in the place where his wife usually parks. there really wasn�t much to say, i don�t want the car there more than anyone else, it�s just that i don�t have a key for the ignition (having dropped it into the crack at the top of the steps in front of the apartment). i thought that everything had been dealt with well, and then Mitch and another neighbour started arguing about who should park where and who pays taxes and whatnot. Mitch walked away thinking that �they� were going to destroy his car late at night, and the older man probably went away hating RPI-brand-students even more. also today, we discovered that Mike�s tires are more bald than his head, tread worn down to the wires. not drivable. happy day-after-your birthday, Mike. of course, this means that a) none of us have a car, and b) George, the car mechanic who has Mitch�s 1976 Datsun in the shop, may be crooked (due to the new alignment of the tires that caused the baldness) but is likely just incompetent. and Mitch was so looking forward to working there.
Realted Siednote: i�ve been giving mitch a really hard time lately, making little joking comments about him. but he makes a really good point, that i seem to do it seriously most of the time, and this is how i repay him for encouraging me that i�m a intelligent and talented person. seem to be all the more harsh toward him specifically because�either because i expect him to be able to find the humour in it, or because i�m jealous of all he�s accomplished, and am just not mature enough to deal with the competition.
