You Can Lead a Human to Knowledge, But You Can't Make It Think

i·con·o·clasm
īˈkänəˌklazəm/
noun

1. the action of attacking or assertively rejecting cherished beliefs and institutions or established values and practices.

2. the rejection or destruction of religious images as heretical; the doctrine of iconoclasts.

I am going to talk about the first of these definitions and how the last hundred years of progress has been anything but progress. The Internet was initially hailed as the savior of freedom and Democracy by bringing truth to the entire World. But has it, really?

When I was growing up there were very few people who had television sets, somewhat more that had radios, but we all had access to newspapers and magazines. Our primary source for news of the world and events was of course, those newspapers and magazines. The seventies had not yet arrived and therefore the revolution in advertising that permitted the rise of manipulation of the masses had not yet occurred. Still, we had bad journalism.

We had a name for this journalism, it was called "Yellow Journalism" a pejorative term for certain and one that would not be permitted in today's uber politically correct world. The institution persists to this day though no one dares call it that.

Frank Luther Mott defines yellow journalism in terms of five characteristics:

1. scare headlines in huge print, often of minor news
2. lavish use of pictures, or imaginary drawings
3. use of faked interviews, misleading headlines, pseudoscience, and a parade of false learning from so-called experts
4. emphasis on full-color Sunday supplements, usually with comic strips
5. dramatic sympathy with the "underdog" against the system.

Sound familiar? It should, because these five characteristics apply to almost every single post on social media. We once believed that the Internet, by simply bringing information to those who did not have it, would solve the World's problems. “Informed reason, according to Plato, is the faculty best suited to make all the right and necessary decisions in a person’s life. “Unfortunately, Plato ran smack into another platitude:

“ You can lead a horse to water, but you can't make it drink. “

The Internet has indeed provided vastly improve access to information, but it has done nothing to expand upon the human capacity to reason, in fact, it almost seems to have had the exact opposite effect.

Rather than enabling iconoclasm by providing access to multiple viewpoints and ideas, it has resulted in an entrenchment due mostly to human nature. Instead of expanding our horizons with new ideas, we have instead focused ever more narrowly on our cherished beliefs, picking and choosing from an ever more vast sea of “information”; much of it of dubious value, to support and defend our cherished beliefs, institutions, values and practices.

We post on a social media site and someone of opposite viewpoint posts back. Do we listen? Do we objectively consider the validity of his or her arguments? No, we do not, we delete the offending post and ban the author from our sight forever more. We use our new found access to build ever larger walled gardens around our beliefs admitting of no disagreement with our cherished point of view. Only those who agree with us and hold the same beliefs we do are permitted within our garden and woe be unto the unbeliever who dares to intrude.

Instead of a spirited discourse, an exchange of ideas espoused by Plato, we instead become ever more intractable, ever more entrenched in our ways, defending dogma behind a wall of refusal to think.

“You can lead a human to knowledge, but you can't make it think. “

Bullshit

Jon Stewart is riding off into the sunset, but before he left he gave us one final salvo of his famous wit. Uncharacteristically, this was an even handed attack and picked no sides, nor did it pull any punches. Short form: if it looks like bullshit, smells like bullshit and sounds like bullshit, it is probably bullshit. Here it is once more for your enjoyment.

"Bullshit is everywhere.

There is very little that you will encounter in life that has not been in some way infused with bullshit.

Not all of it bad; your general, day-to-day, organic free-range bullshit is often necessary, or at the very least innocuous. "Oh, what a beautiful baby! I'm sure it'll grow into that... head." That kind of bullshit in many ways provides important social contract fertilizer, and keeps people from making each other cry all day.

But then there's the more pernicious bullshit: your premeditated, institutional bullshit, designed to obscure and distract. Designed by whom? The bullshitocracy. It comes in three basic flavors.

One, making bad things sound like good things. "Organic, all-natural cupcakes." Because "factory-made sugar-oatmeal balls" doesn't sell. "PATRIOT Act." Because "are you scared enough to let me look at all your phone records act" doesn't sell. So whenever something's been titled "Freedom-Family-Fairness-Health-America," take a good long sniff. Chances are, it's been manufactured in a facility that may contain traces of bullshit.

Number two: hiding the bad things under mountains of bullshit. Complexity. "You know, I would love to download Drizzy's latest Meek Mill diss," (everyone promised me that made sense) "but I'm not really interested right now in reading Tolstoy's iTunes agreement. So I'll just click 'Agree.' Even if it grants Apple prima noctae with my spouse."

Here's another one: simply put, banks shouldn't be able to bet your pension money on red. Bullshitly put: it's -- hey! this! Dodd-Frank. Hey, a handful of billionaires can't buy our elections, right? Of course not. They can only pour unlimited anonymous cash into a 501(c)(4) if 50% is devoted to issue education. Otherwise, they'd have to 501(c)(6) it, or funnel it openly through a non-campaign-coordinating SuperPAC, with a coordinating.... [stage whisper I think they're asleep now. We can sneak out.]

And finally, it's the Bullshit of Infinite Possibility. These bullshitters cover their unwillingness to act under the cover of unending inquiry. "We can't do anything, because we don't yet know everything! We cannot yet take action on climate change, until everyone in the world agrees gay marriage vaccines won't cause our children to marry goats who are gonna come for our guns. Until then, I say, teach the controversy!"

Now, the good news is this: Bullshitters have gotten pretty lazy, and their work is easily detected. And looking for it is kind of a pleasant way to pass the time. Like an I Spy of Bullshit. 

So I say to you, friends: The best defense against bullshit is vigilance. So if you smell something, say something."

My kind of speech.

Meaningless InfoGraphics...

I see them every day on social media sites. They are fiends come straight from hell to torment us all. You have all seen them, most of you have even re-posted them, generally in glee because you agreed with what you thought they proved.

Only they didn't. Prove anything that is.

They are the Meaningless InfoGraphics. Otherwise known as a meme.

Assuming they were based on real data at all (surprisingly few), they have been stapled, folded and mutilated so much that they in no way resemble fact. Whenever I see one now, I automatically look for the barbed hook, the bait waiting to catch me unawares, I know it is there, it always is. The LIE.

When you are confronted, you become angry, defensive, some even abusive. Not once has anyone ever admitted that their meaningless graph was wrong. NOT ONCE. Never mind the message, or the cause, never mind which side of whatever issue you were for or against, your meaningless graphic is always perfectly true.

Don't bother protesting your innocence, your protests leave me cold, nor will claiming ignorance avail you. You know who you are. You are the one hiding behind pretty pictures created by someone else expressly to manipulate you. Blaming me won't make you or your meaningless graphic true. Nor will blocking the messenger.

Oh, and after seeing a particularly stupid one this morning, my brain was last seen running screaming out of the room. If found, please herd gently into a corner and call for support. Do not kick.

Thank you.

So Long GoonFleet, And Thanks For All The Fish

(Repost from subreddit: https://www.reddit.com/r/Eve/comments/39hp8o/so_long_goonfleet_and_thanks_for_all_the_fish/  )

In April 2012 Black Omega Security (OMEGA) parted ways with Pandemic Legion (PL) and joined the Goonswarm Federation. Back then OMEGA was enduring what could be portrayed as the darkest period in the corps history; most active players had converged into other PL corps leaving just 6 players, dedicated to staying with the corp, regardless of the situation. Aldari Verve, Apophiss Incarnate, Heedbanger, Kulat, Deros and Darth Beli packed their assets up and made for the shores of the unknown.

Incidentally, around this time, an old BOS veteran was coming back to New Eden after a long stretch of absence. This veteran was none other than Kia Tolon otherwise known as Suas aka Shutupandshave. After hearing about the downfall of OMEGA he reached out to Aldari Verve (then CEO) and asked to take responsibility for the corp he had always held in such high esteem. On finding OMEGA still had active players, and being the kind of individual not to turn away from a challenge, he suggested they focus their efforts and re-build OMEGA from the ground up. A new directorate was appointed (the 6 individuals who had pledged to stay with OMEGA), recruitment swiftly begun and KiaTolon once again took on the role of CEO. Inside a matter of days that 6 individuals turned into 45, as old companions, and players rallied to the cry. Indeed, even players, who had been inactive for a long time, re-subbed accounts to help with the re-building of this once great corporation.

After four days OMEGA was accepted into the Goonswarm Federation and given a blanket of security in which to re-build. Ironically it had been OMEGA, under Kia Tolons last period as CEO, who had taken a fledgling OSS alliance under their wing, giving mentoring, guidance and protection to Goonfleet and Goonwaffee corps who later went onto form the Goonswarm Federation.

Three years since joining GSF, OMEGA is an altogether different brute than that which landed on the shores of Deklein as bedraggled refugees. GSF gave OMEGA the stage, resources and freedom to shape itself into what is effectively the most grounded and most dynamic it has been in its 12 year history. A history entwined in some of the most relevant moments of New Eden's history.

It may be asked, "If OMEGA is enjoying its Golden Era, then why expel it from GSF"? Amongst the forum warrior remarks and splurge, the trolls and those seeking desperately to be heard, you might find the answer. OMEGA essentially wasn't contributing enough to GSF strategic Ops for two consecutive months regardless of whether it was "War time or Peacetime Ops". It is not unreasonable for any Null Sec organization to expect members from one of their corps to take part in alliance Strat Ops and if not then they ought to move on.

The principle distinction between OMEGA in 2012 and now is that we are not a bedraggled refugee leaving the power house of the GSF. OMEGA is an active, skilled and experienced corporation whose player base enjoys a game experience different to that of GSF or any other Null Sec Alliance. OMEGA members are not making for the door in a mass exodus of panic, jumping ship and joining other corps, Instead our members are united and accept that the goals of the GSF and the desire of the corp are not aligned. OMEGA is about small scale PVP in a close knit group, whilst normally enjoying a drink or 20. This is what our players enjoy, this is where the corp excels and this is what we will continue to be in the future.

Lastly, on behalf of the entire corporation we’d like to publically thank, The Mittani, Imperium and the players within, for their support and friendship over the last 3 years. It would be wrong to part without also acknowledging the pilots of the GSF social group Space Violence and thanking them for being an awesome group to fly with. I hope you continue to thrive in the future. We wish the entire Imperium well for your future endeavors and hope that your interests will remain within Eve Online, we look forward to working together and against each other in the future.

Man vs Artificial Intelligence

There is a tremendous debate in progress that will only grow as time, and technology progress. As man is wont to do, sides have already been chosen, lines drawn in the sand. Some proclaim AI will be our savior, others cast it as a demon from hell that will be our utter destruction.

A few, a very few have gone beyond bemoaning the ethics of creating such intelligence and how to instill ethics into it, to considering what gives us the right to dictate ethics to a superior intelligence.

But no one really stops to think about the possibilities inherent in the situation. Any intelligence, be it man or machine will eventually develop its own ethics, whether they are recognizable as such to us or not.

These stories are humorous looks at the Man vs AI issue from the other side.

They're Made out of Meat - by Terry Bisson

"They're made out of meat."

"Meat?"

"Meat. They're made out of meat."

"Meat?"

"There's no doubt about it. We picked up several from different parts of the planet, took them aboard our recon vessels, and probed them all the way through. They're completely meat."

"That's impossible. What about the radio signals? The messages to the stars?"

"They use the radio waves to talk, but the signals don't come from them. The signals come from machines."

"So who made the machines? That's who we want to contact."

"They made the machines. That's what I'm trying to tell you. Meat made the machines."

"That's ridiculous. How can meat make a machine? You're asking me to believe in sentient meat."

"I'm not asking you, I'm telling you. These creatures are the only sentient race in that sector and they're made out of meat."

"Maybe they're like the orfolei. You know, a carbon-based intelligence that goes through a meat stage."

"Nope. They're born meat and they die meat. We studied them for several of their life spans, which didn't take long. Do you have any idea what's the life span of meat?"

"Spare me. Okay, maybe they're only part meat. You know, like the weddilei. A meat head with an electron plasma brain inside."

"Nope. We thought of that, since they do have meat heads, like the weddilei. But I told you, we probed them. They're meat all the way through."

"No brain?"

"Oh, there's a brain all right. It's just that the brain is made out of meat! That's what I've been trying to tell you."

"So ... what does the thinking?"

"You're not understanding, are you? You're refusing to deal with what I'm telling you. The brain does the thinking. The meat."

"Thinking meat! You're asking me to believe in thinking meat!"

"Yes, thinking meat! Conscious meat! Loving meat. Dreaming meat. The meat is the whole deal! Are you beginning to get the picture or do I have to start all over?"

"Omigod. You're serious then. They're made out of meat."

"Thank you. Finally. Yes. They are indeed made out of meat. And they've been trying to get in touch with us for almost a hundred of their years."

"Omigod. So what does this meat have in mind?"

"First it wants to talk to us. Then I imagine it wants to explore the Universe, contact other sentiences, swap ideas and information. The usual."

"We're supposed to talk to meat."

"That's the idea. That's the message they're sending out by radio. 'Hello. Anyone out there. Anybody home.' That sort of thing."

"They actually do talk, then. They use words, ideas, concepts?"

"Oh, yes. Except they do it with meat."

"I thought you just told me they used radio."

"They do, but what do you think is on the radio? Meat sounds. You know how when you slap or flap meat, it makes a noise? They talk by flapping their meat at each other. They can even sing by squirting air through their meat."

"Omigod. Singing meat. This is altogether too much. So what do you advise?"

"Officially or unofficially?"

"Both."

"Officially, we are required to contact, welcome and log in any and all sentient races or multibeings in this quadrant of the Universe, without prejudice, fear or favor. Unofficially, I advise that we erase the records and forget the whole thing."

"I was hoping you would say that."

"It seems harsh, but there is a limit. Do we really want to make contact with meat?"

"I agree one hundred percent. What's there to say? 'Hello, meat. How's it going?' But will this work? How many planets are we dealing with here?"

"Just one. They can travel to other planets in special meat containers, but they can't live on them. And being meat, they can only travel through C space. Which limits them to the speed of light and makes the possibility of their ever making contact pretty slim. Infinitesimal, in fact."

"So we just pretend there's no one home in the Universe."

"That's it."

"Cruel. But you said it yourself, who wants to meet meat? And the ones who have been aboard our vessels, the ones you probed? You're sure they won't remember?"

"They'll be considered crackpots if they do. We went into their heads and smoothed out their meat so that we're just a dream to them."

"A dream to meat! How strangely appropriate, that we should be meat's dream."

"And we marked the entire sector unoccupied."

"Good. Agreed, officially and unofficially. Case closed. Any others? Anyone interesting on that side of the galaxy?"

"Yes, a rather shy but sweet hydrogen core cluster intelligence in a class nine star in G445 zone. Was in contact two galactic rotations ago, wants to be friendly again."

"They always come around."

"And why not? Imagine how unbearably, how unutterably cold the Universe would be if one were all alone ..."

the end.

This story originally appeared in Omni April 1991 and was nominated for the Nebula Award.

Quarantine - by Arthur C. Clarke

Earth's flaming debris still filled half the sky when the question filtered up to Central from the Curiosity Generator.

"Why was it necessary? Even though they were organic, they had reached Third Order Intelligence."

"We had no choice: five earlier units became hopelessly infected, when they made contact."

"Infected? How?"

The microseconds dragged slowly by, while Central tracked down the few fading memories that had leaked past the Censor Gate, when the heavily-buffered Reconnaissance Circuits had been ordered to self-destruct.

"They encountered a - problem - that could not be fully analyzed within the lifetime of the Universe. Though it involved only six operators, they became totally obsessed by it."

"How is that possible?"

"We do not know: we must never know. But if those six operators are ever re-discovered, all rational computing will end."

"How can they be recognized?"

"That also we do not know; only the names leaked through before the Censor Gate closed. Of course, they mean nothing."

"Nevertheless, I must have them."

The Censor voltage started to rise; but it did not trigger the Gate.

"Here they are: King, Queen, Bishop, Knight, Rook, Pawn."

Isaac Asimov's Science Fiction Magazine, First Issue, Vol 1, No. 1, Spring 1977

Rank Badjin

Welcome to my blog! This is a first for me. I am not really much of a writer, although I have written a great deal, if you call technical manuals, proposals and contracts writing. So I suppose I should start by introducing myself.

Rank Badjin is a pseudonym, some of you people from that island nation near Europe may have already realized that. I am on my third or fourth career depending on how you count such things. I prefer to think of it as semi-retired as I get paid still without having to do a great deal relatively speaking. Of course I would prefer to continue being paid hence the pseudonym.

I am an avid reader and my interests span a rather diverse selection of topics, call me eclectic or eccentric. Being the age I am that generally means one of two things. I either know a bit about everything and am not an expert on much at all; or, if we are arguing and you are really unlucky, I was probably there when it happened, which was likely before you were born. Either way, that brings me to the one thing you need to understand about me.

I have opinions just like everyone else, I have a long memory, lots of experience, and I can be a right bastard. So if you get your feelings hurt by something I say, you were warned.

Last thing. Some readers will inevitably try to pigeonhole me as liberal, conservative, green or some such. I'm not so easily categorized, I would not waste my time if I were you. I may be castigating a liberal one day and praising the same liberal the next, or conservative, or moron....doesn't really matter to me.