Zoot's Philosophical Musings

Just as the MGTOW/MRA had its day, and then untraveled, so does Peterson become untraveled and exposed as what he really is.
Of course he gave us signs, and most of us pretended not to to see.

Zoots Allures wrote:why you gotta be hatin' on peterson, andy?

Why you gotta be hatin' on Bruno Mars, zooty?

because he's a dangerous man with some money in his pocket. not only that, he should have bought her flowers and held her hand, andy.

don't be seduced by american culture man. it's the leading force in the decline of the music business.

bruno mars came right of the assembly line. just another generic formula.

yeah, yeah, yeah... yeah. yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah... UUH.

These must be some verses from 24 karat magic.

Either way, that's the wrong answer. The answer is the ratio, all too high ratio, between how popular Bruno is and how little interest you have in his music. Right? At any rate, that's the right answer. And that's the answer to your question regarding Sir Jordan Peterson.

Now I am pretty sure you'd enjoy it if Zappa was as popular as Bruno and Bruno was as obscure as Zappa. But I wouldn't. Bruno and Zappa are both boring to me. Just in a different way.

It's demoralizing. It's demoralizing to see that the manner in which you want to live life is that rare. That's the problem.

Now I am pretty sure you'd enjoy it if Zappa was as popular as Bruno

that is precisely what i would never want. like zarathustra, zappa only returns to them when they have denied him.

andy wrote:It's demoralizing to see that the manner in which you want to live life is that rare. That's the problem.

Don't you see that I'm just doing what I want to do? Nothing more and nothing less than you. Read no thoughts I didn't think myself. Just the same as anybody else, andy.

Zoots Allures wrote:

Now I am pretty sure you'd enjoy it if Zappa was as popular as Bruno

that is precisely what i would never want. like zarathustra, zappa only returns to them when they have denied him.

There's a theory that, at least in this day and age, the majority is flexible, which means it is tolerant, whereas minority groups tend to be rigid and intolerant. The dominant minority shapes the tastes of the majority . . . So what is popular doesn't reflect the tastes of the commoner -- commoners don't have their own tastes -- but the tastes of the dominant minority. So from that point of view, your rationale seems a bit foolish, doesn't it, zooty? (You don't capitalize the names of animals.)

Zoots Allures wrote:

andy wrote:It's demoralizing to see that the manner in which you want to live life is that rare. That's the problem.

Don't you see that I'm just doing what I want to do? Nothing more and nothing less than you. Read no thoughts I didn't think myself. Just the same as anybody else, andy.

You don't want to do what I want to do.
That's the issue.

we're going to the next level, andy. video. posting is too retro man.

https://sendvid.com/bzizb209

Consider Mr. Flexible, zootie pie. Mr. Flexible has no tastes. His tastes are his means to some end. This "some end" can be pretty much any kind of end so as long it is something he is truly interested in. He cares not about the substance, the music-in-itself, but only about its utility in relation to some kind of end he is truly interested in. Whatever that piece of music is, so as long it is useful in attaining his goals, he will love it.

John is a Mr. Flexible and he loves Jane. But Jane really only loves Adam Levine. In case you don't know who Adam Levine is, he's the frontman of your beloved boy band Maroon 5. I remember back when they got popular singing This Love.



Now, John is really into Jane and he's going to do anything to attract her attention -- even start listening to Maroon 5 and dress and talk and sing and walk like Adam. So he does. So far so good. He's going to pretend he's into the same kind of music Jane is in order to trick her into falling in love with him. But there's a catch and this catch has to do with biology. Human brain, it appears, didn't evolve for the purpose of deception. It might be able to efficiently lie from time to time, provided that the lies are small enough, but in the long run, it is utterly incapable of maintaining several different competing models of the world at the same time. So what happens instead is that the multiplicity is in one way or another reduced to a singularity. You can only keep a single model of reality at any point in time. So you either have to keep your own tastes, but miss out on juicy pussy; or you have to abandon your own tastes, but get a taste of pussy. John is so horny he has no option but to fall in love with Adam Levine.



Before singing "This Love" they were singing "Harder to Breathe". I think it's a better piece.

The 90s were the eurodance era. So let's talk about clubs. Men don't go to clubs unless there are females there. They don't care about music, they care about human flesh. And yet, the majority of club goers are males. So clubs have to deal with this asymmetry in some way and there are many ways to do so, the usual ones being allowing women to enter for free and challenging them to compete with each other for the VIP status. But the most important way they do this -- important to the subject at hand -- is by playing the kind of music that makes women dance. DJs are aware of this rule: men only dance if women are dancing. So get the pretty legs moving and you will ensure profit.



No male is naturally attracted to "Barbie Girl". But if you couple it with pussy, he may like it. Pavlov's classical conditioning.

What we have here is an intolerant minority of women and a tolerant majority of males. Women dictate the tastes. Men don't really care about what music is played at clubs but by being exposed to it they get used to it; they start to like it. Now, if Zappa was the reason women are dancing, then Zappa would be the rule. But he's not.

My point is that there is nothing inherent to music that is responsible for its popularity. It does not matter whether it is simple or complex, familiar or unfamiliar, etc. The only thing that matters is whether it is useful in some important way or not. And there is no top-down direction when it comes to popular tastes. They evolve mostly in an unpredictable fashion. Men in expensive suits are just as suprised by the manner in which trends shift as everyone else is. They are playing-it-safe type of guys who do nothing but follow trends and jump on bandwagons in an effort to milk the success of others. The rules they come up with reflect whatever trend they decided to follow at that point in time. Nothing else. If they decided to milk the success of Sir Johan Sebastian Bach, then they would be talking about how most people prefer polyphony and complexity to homophony and simplicity; if they were trying to milk the success of Curtis Jackson a.k.a. 50 Cent, then they would be saying the reverse. They are as shallow as that.

Btw, videos are fine, but make sure the music is not too loud so I can hear you.

Magnus Anderson wrote:
That's why we have machine learning. Instead of teaching machines how to solve specific problems, such as how to detect an asshole, you teach them how to solve problems in general. The goal is to make a machine that can learn from experience. You don't tell it how to do specific tasks such as how to recognize a face or how to detect an asshole; that would require too much introspection on our part. Rather, you tell it how to make experience-based inferences. You want a machine that can take as its input something like a sequence of numbers such as 1 2 3 4 5 and then output either a hypothesis (a rule that generated the data) or a guess regarding some unknown data point that is of interest to us (e.g. the next number in the sequence.) The former is induction and the latter is transduction (see Vapnik.) If you can write such a program then you can recreate any kind of intelligent human behavior you want provided that you have enough data you can plug into your machine. The disadvantage of such an approach, as you can guess, is the fact that it is data-intensive; but I don't think there is an alternative.

You still need to define what the machine is looking for, so that your iterations can converge toward the optimal solution, and that is one of the big problems of AI. You're able to optimize your statistical solution finding when you have clear mathematical parameters to use, such as "find the deepest valley in this range of mountain", where finding the optimal solution is simply a matter of comparing a measurement in centimeters, or "find the ideal entry point into the futures market" where you can take measurements of volume and volatility from the charts.
Things start to get much more complicated when the solutions require an understanding of natural language, where merely knowing the grammatical rules is not even enough to form a coherent sentence, let alone take one as input and derive from it an answer. The hole is even deeper given that, while it is possible to use multiple algorithms to train a machine to take natural language as input and generate natural language output with a certain degree of statistical certainty, of which I believe the most brilliant example in modern day is IBM's Watson, that only goes for questions for which there is one correct answer.
It's funny to me that we can train a machine to find a cancer and suggest the best strategy for treatment, but we are years away from being able to teach a machine to spot an asshole.

http://ilovephilosophy.com/viewtopic.php?f=10&t=194017

at forty years old these guys (schopenhauer, nietzsche) are still mulling over the meaninglessness of everything. this is indicative of one of two things; they're too soft, or they lack any real problems to contend with, so they occupy themselves with petty trifles.

you're supposed to get over your pessimism in your thirties. if you're still sitting around writing books about how wrong the world is at that age, clearly you're in no real danger.

i keep telling everyone, there is only one real struggle, one real form of suffering (excepting physical torture). when you are certain that you should kill and destroy but you lack the courage to do so... or you continue to procrastinate because you believe fate will take a turn for the best... somehow wiping away the disgust you feel toward the people in the world.

unless you are playing this game with yourself, you haven't even begun to understand what true suffering is like. to be disgusted with the world, and then yourself because you lack the courage to strike back at it. that's like a double whammy.

the problem looks like this: you can't live in a world full of these people, but you lack the courage to attack them because you're afraid you'll get caught, and you don't want to go back to prison. so then you have to be willing to kill yourself before they get you, and you lack the courage to do that, as well. you can't live with them, you can't kill them, and you can't kill yourself. so you wait... you give fate a chance to make a profound change... and rather than doing so, things continue to get worse. now you're disgusted with yourself for waiting on top of the disgust you have for yourself for lacking the courage to do what you should have already done. this is what hell is.

write a book about THAT and i'll buy two copies of it.

zoot wrote:you're supposed to get over your pessimism in your thirties.

And yet they don't so you become frustrated with the fact that there are people who do not function according to your expectations. A mistake on your part for setting unrealistically high goals.

if you're still sitting around writing books about how wrong the world is at that age, clearly you're in no real danger.

Except for the fact that they are depressed for reasons that might be unknown but that are nonetheless real.

unless you are playing this game with yourself, you haven't even begun to understand what true suffering is like. to be disgusted with the world, and then yourself because you lack the courage to strike back at it. that's like a double whammy.

the problem looks like this: you can't live in a world full of these people, but you lack the courage to attack them because you're afraid you'll get caught, and you don't want to go back to prison. so then you have to be willing to kill yourself before they get you, and you lack the courage to do that, as well. you can't live with them, you can't kill them, and you can't kill yourself. so you wait... you give fate a chance to make a profound change... and rather than doing so, things continue to get worse. now you're disgusted with yourself for waiting on top of the disgust you have for yourself for lacking the courage to do what you should have already done. this is what hell is.

And now we're entering the territory of self-congratulating narcissism. Look at me and how much I suffer and yet I don't complain about the world like you do.

And yet they don't so you become frustrated with the fact that there are people who do not function according to your expectations. A mistake on your part for setting unrealistically high goals.

that is not the fact that i get frustrated about because i expect nothing more from people. they simply cannot do any better.

my frustration lies in these two things; that i can't convince myself to stop tolerating it, and that other people's problems become my problems because of their interference.

i couldn't give two shits whether or not people 'function according to my expectations'. what i give a shit about is when their incompetence becomes my problem and i stand right there like a retard and let it happen.

but don't you worry, andy. i'm coming around. it just takes a long time to get yourself together. you don't just wake up one day and say 'i'm gonna do this'. it takes years to get to that threshold.

And now we're entering the territory of self-congratulating narcissism. Look at me and how much I suffer and yet I don't complain about the world like you do.

nailed it!

*high five*

i refuse to observe mother's day until there is such a thing as son's and daughter's day, because unless there is, it isn't fair. now if you say "but every day is son's and daughter's day", i would remind you that every mother is also a daughter, therefore, mother's would be getting an additional special day while son's and daughter's who do not have any kids, would not. this would not be right.

don't try to refute me. my logic is infallible.

i don't like the game show jeopardy, and the people who watch it, even less. when i was in the joint the inmates used to watch it every night. what is this? what the fuck are they doing? see i wanted to watch national geographic or discovery but i was always out-voted. one night i finally had enough and i spoke thus to the people of H block:

"why do you guys watch this shit? you're not learning anything. oh you are? okay then, how about this. tomorrow i'm gonna ask you to tell me three facts you learned on the show tonight. i got two soups and a bag of shabangs that says you won't be able to do it. you forget everything you hear, so what's the point of watching it? ohhhh i know. you're hoping to answer one out of twenty questions so everybody else will think you're smart. that's what you all do, isn't it... stare at the TV waiting for the guy to ask the question you happen to know the answer to because you remember it from the seventh grade. this is the largest of carnivores in the antarctic. what is a polar bear! hey, anybody got a question or need some legal advice, ask MC ashtray. he's the block genius because he got an answer right on jeopardy."

on the way to work this morning i stopped by bojangles to purchase a famous fried steak and egg biscuit combo. upon entering the establishment i immediately noted the uncleanliness and disarray. as i made a careless effort to step around the empty soda cup and crumpled napkins that littered the floor, i observed among the patrons only one white person. it was a fat man. a morbidly obese fat man of middle age with a faded john deer cap and overalls. he was working with great concentration on a platter of biscuits and gravy, oblivious to the cacophony that enveloped him, and, indeed, quite unconcerned that if a race war actually were to begin in the dining area, i would be his only ally. the plastic fork upon which was heaped a gratuitous blob of butter milk biscuit and gravy demanded his full attention, something which he gave no pause to provide.

when i got to the register, lashanda, a five foot three inch female so black she was almost purple, with teats the size of the spare tire that comes with a small honda, stood glaring at me through glazed, bloodshot eyes. i waited, expecting to hear "may i take your order." no such question was offered by the creature, so i took the initiative myself to break the ice and make contact with lashanda.

"yes, i'd like the steak and egg biscuit combo with a coffee, please."

without hesitation she spoke into a microphone with the customary, south-eastern negro patois: "whun steak 'n ehhg commboh, something something something (which i couldn't quite make out)."

behind her shuffled five or six other negros... bumping into each other and communicating in an idiom only the fast food resturant negro employee can understand. suddenly an object on the floor caught my eye; it was a hash round... one that had been stepped on. as i made my way down the line, i watched the decimated hash round get stepped on four more times. that was when i saw her.

another black woman with a hair net that was incompletely positioned over the great mass of tangled hair in a style i believe is refered to as 'dreads', was vigorously working my piece of steak on the grill. she moved with the finest proficiency i have ever seen in the fast food industry. her arms moved with such grace one could have mistaken her for knowing kung fu. an egg on the left, chicken patty on the right, steak in the middle, and an savory looking piece of ham simmering in the corner. she would flip this one, scoot that one to the side, push the grease into the drain, and press down on the other with the spatula. all within fractions of a second. the fat hanging down under her arms jilted and rolled back and forth, its inertia unable to resist the momentum produced by the sheer speed at which she worked. it was a magnificent sight to behold.  

as i watched this master of the grill, an idea crossed my mind... and with my phone, i pulled up the song "chicken fried steak" by lenny white and began listening intently with my earphones. i was going to get the FULL cinematic effect of this experience.

i fast forwarded to 1:06, the part that articulates perfectly what was happening before me, leaned back against the rail, and lost myself in the reverie as the negro creatures bustled about with incomprehensible rhythm and strange autopoietic form...

https://vocaroo.com/i/s0S4MUGgaPtj

... and I'm superbad