Author Archives: Zack M. Davis

Concerning Frame Control Via Salient Scenarios

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"We need to institutionalize people in order to prevent them from hurting themselves" has the same memetic-superweapon structure as "We need to torture terrorists to get them to tell us where they've hidden the suitcase nuke." The scenario as stated obviously has consequentialist merit (death is worse than prison, megadeaths are worse than torture), so you'd have to be some kind of huge asshole—or a former suspected terrorist—to say, "I claim that this hypothetical scenario is not realized nearly as often as you seem to be implying and therefore falsifiably predict that many of your alleged real-world examples will fall apart on further examination."

Object vs. Meta Golden Rule

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"I know it might seem like a lot to ask, but I wouldn't hesitate to do the same for you if our positions were reversed."

"I don't doubt that. But I can't help but notice that it would be easier for you to say it if the fact that they aren't reversed is—somehow—not a coincidence."

April Is Separability Month

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It is now April! Did you know that April is one of the months in which every compact metric space is separable?

Proof. Let it be April, and let M be a compact metric space. Because M is compact, it is totally bounded, so for all n∈ℕ, we can cover M with finitely many open balls of radius 1/n. The centers of all such balls are a countable set which we can call C. But C is dense, because an arbitrary point p∈M is a limit point of C: an ε-neighborhood of p must contain the center of one the balls in our covering of M with ε/2-balls. Thus M contains a countable dense subset.

Binge-Purge

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$ history | grep freeciv
  605  freeciv
  606  sudo apt-get install freeciv
  607  sudo apt-get remove freeciv
  652  rm -rf ~/.freeciv/
  706  sudo apt-get install freeciv
  722  sudo apt-get remove freeciv
  735  rm -rf ~/.freeciv/
  752  sudo apt-get install freeciv
  754  sudo apt-get remove freeciv
  768  rm -rf ~/.freeciv/
  785  history | grep freeciv

"Give Anything"

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As a freshman on my high school's cross country team, our captain told me that to be a good runner, you needed to love pain.

I objected: a great runner could love to race, I said, and endure the pain only for the sake of competing and winning.

It's only fifteen years later (practically one foot in the grave), that I now see that I was wrong and he was right.

You can run out of habit or you can run because Coach would notice if you skip practice, but you cannot run because of the strictly instrumental effect that not-running would have on your goals. Our minds aren't built that way; what is separable conceptually is not separable architecturally.

Ultimately, to not sacrifice the gift, you have to love pain. You have to love life.

Cranberry Bliss!

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(Previously.)

It's the tenth day of the third November of my life (that I am willing to admit to), and I am determined to wring some sort of high-sounding interpretation out of the cool air and damp sidewalks: perhaps a contrast, something about the events that directly prompt fundamental life changes (on the one hand), and the events that indirectly catalyze fundamental life changes by means of enabling the construction of a legible narrative in which the changes can be plausibly attributed to them (on the other).

Today I am constructing a narrative about my life fundamentally changing because the coffee hegemon has started selling those medicinal (right) cranberry/cream-cheese triangles again. Not that hastening my inevitable horrible cardiac death with dessert bars is like a series arc or anything, but it's a thing I learned today that is salient enough to be repurposed as a trigger, a reminder that the autumn–winter windustrial complex is upon us again, that this is supposed to be my favorite time of year, that there simply is no reason I won't attune myself to perceive nature's cyclic harmonies, then perform every San Francisco software engineer's sacred duty and disrupt the living fuck out of them.

Lipschitz

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—and the moment or more than a moment when the dam breaks, when the damned break and the void inside their skulls is filled (the atmosphere rushing in quickly, but not so quickly that one couldn't sense its motion) with the terror that is knowledge of the specter of continuity: that there have never been, and can never be, any miracles.

For to be saved is only to be some distance in the initial conditions from being damned, some lesser distance from being half-damned ... some δ-distance from being ε-damned. And the complement of the shadow we cast on the before-time contains its limits.