Thoughts On: Borderlands Singleplayer
Borderlands does not strike me as a particularly
well-conceived or well-crafted game. It is set on a
mysterious planet, a planet so mysterious in fact that its only distinguishing
features from earth are strange species of cacti and some alien (but not
genuinely alien) fauna. A world with
a day-night cycle lasting all of ten minutes seemingly designed to ensure that
every player, no matter how short his attention span, will notice that there is
a day-night cycle and yet serving no plot or game-play purposes (every night
and every day is exactly the same). A planet called Pandora, although a more
accurate moniker would perhaps be Planet Mad Max.
Towards An Automated Future
Throughout the past century there has been a clear
trend towards the automation of tasks previously requiring manual labour. This
automation has been accelerated with the advent of computers and the Internet.
Such automation is generally seen as being more efficient, and therefore
beneficial to the economy. But by its nature, automation displaces jobs, and
where do those jobs go?
Fears of job loss are generally assuaged by the
assertion that those jobs will give way to better jobs, which is better for
everyone. If coffee shops are automated, then people who would be baristas can
become nurses and technologists, positions perceived to be of more value to
society. However, these “better” positions require more training, typically in
the form of extensive schooling, than the jobs they represent an upgrade from.
And while it may be admitted that many of these jobs are more “challenging”,
what isn’t acknowledged is that such a position is therefore more demanding on
the worker. Someone with the talent to be an excellent barista does not
necessarily have the talents to be a nurse or lab technician. For the jobs that
are just a step above the jobs currently being automated it may very much be
the case that the only barrier to the vast majority of the population is a lack
of education. But to think it will remain that way is nothing short of naive.
Book Title Generator
Looking around bookstores and libraries I get probably more amusement than most out of the terribly clichéd and outright cheesy titles so often bestowed to books sitting comfortably in the best-seller racks or among the ranks of genre fiction. In the cases of plodding fantasy epics and conspiracy-laced spy-thrillers, the pattern is so blatant that it could be created by the most rudimentary algorithm. So rudimentary in fact that I decided I would just write it for my own amusement. A fair warning, some of these titles get awfully close to titles of already published books, which only goes to illustrate how close this algorithm is to the true one used by publishers and creatively bankrupt authors the world over. Enjoy :)
Clicking the above generates the title of an exciting new thriller that could have been written by Robert Ludlum, Dan Brown, or Dean Koontz.
Clicking the above generates the title of an epic fantasy novel in a series of never-ending novels that could have flowed from the pen of George R. R. Martin or Robert Jordan.
Thriller Title Here
Clicking the above generates the title of an exciting new thriller that could have been written by Robert Ludlum, Dan Brown, or Dean Koontz.
Fantasy Title Here
Clicking the above generates the title of an epic fantasy novel in a series of never-ending novels that could have flowed from the pen of George R. R. Martin or Robert Jordan.
Summer Musings
In the artificial hurry of our daily live we have made it
abundantly easy to lose sight of any kind of view of our world. Our attentions
diverted along a corridor of immediacy, we expend our energies on pursuits that
have little to no benefit to our fulfilment. Yet amidst the noise of
obligations, entertainment over-saturation, global and local issues that we are
supposed to care about, it only takes a moment outside, on a beautiful or terrible
day, for the issues of real import to surface in one's mind.
After twenty-four years on this earth one might suppose by
now that I find the familiar sight of blue sky turning pale at the horizon,
against sun-bleached yellow-green grass to be tiresome, but instead it appeals
to me carnally, and every time I see it, I feel a little refreshed. Humans are
simple animals who have made their lives progressively more complicated without
necessarily always making them better.
I appreciate the closeness with which I can calmly approach
a red-breasted robin before he takes off in frightened flight. Later on I will
pass another, who, secure in his tree, will take no notice of me as he grooms
his chest. My eyes delight in the colour on display in the wingspan of a monarch
butterfly, a creature who on close inspection appears not beautiful but alien.
I come upon a choir of ducks, whose stunted sing-song is less a quack and more
a lip-smacking d-buh!
In the pale blue sky, a few clouds, puffy yet drifting into
a wispy non-existence, border the horizon while the moon hangs in her place
opposing the sun.
The Universe's Rabbit Hole
Fundamental questions are often questions of scale: What is
the smallest sustainable flame? What is the minimum bubble diameter? What is
the minimum amount of information necessary to constitute life? What is the
smallest constituent of matter? Of energy? What is the furthest extent of the
universe? In mathematics and much of our everyday experience, scale seems
arbitrary. One could construct a house at 1/5 scale, 1:1 scale, and 2:1 scale
without much real difference between them. But once we nudge outside of our
comfort zone, we find that scale is very important in our physical world.
If we were divide a one kilogram ingot of gold we could cut it down to size and divide it into tenths, hundredths, thousandths, millionths, billionths, and so on. But we cannot divide the ingot indefinitely, the smallest unit of gold we can have is one atom, and there are approximately 3.057x10^24 atoms of gold in a one kilogram ingot. From that bar we can have no more than around 3 trillion trillion pieces of gold. Divide it any further, and what you have is no longer discernibly gold. Given that the properties of matter and energy and various chemical reactions require certain scales before they can arise (even if those scales seem imperceptibly small), it seems reasonable to assume that there exists a fundamental lower limit on size. At some point we must reach a limit below which there would be no properties at all, since all properties would necessarily arise from the interactions occurring at such a scale. Viewed this way, a fractal theory of the universe seems untenable: how can universes be packed within each other when scale is so important to physical nature? However, it is still possible that beyond the scale that we can currently observe, past the fundamental building blocks of our universe, lay the outer reaches of embedded fractal universes, and these universes have analogous but dissimilar properties that operate on different magnitudes of scale.
If we were divide a one kilogram ingot of gold we could cut it down to size and divide it into tenths, hundredths, thousandths, millionths, billionths, and so on. But we cannot divide the ingot indefinitely, the smallest unit of gold we can have is one atom, and there are approximately 3.057x10^24 atoms of gold in a one kilogram ingot. From that bar we can have no more than around 3 trillion trillion pieces of gold. Divide it any further, and what you have is no longer discernibly gold. Given that the properties of matter and energy and various chemical reactions require certain scales before they can arise (even if those scales seem imperceptibly small), it seems reasonable to assume that there exists a fundamental lower limit on size. At some point we must reach a limit below which there would be no properties at all, since all properties would necessarily arise from the interactions occurring at such a scale. Viewed this way, a fractal theory of the universe seems untenable: how can universes be packed within each other when scale is so important to physical nature? However, it is still possible that beyond the scale that we can currently observe, past the fundamental building blocks of our universe, lay the outer reaches of embedded fractal universes, and these universes have analogous but dissimilar properties that operate on different magnitudes of scale.
Our Lawless Universe
Space is homogeneous: This assumption states that the equations of physics are independent of the frame of reference of the observer, they are time-space invariant. This assumption is necessarily true, a law that only holds locally is not a law but is at best a subset of a more complicated law or very likely a crude approximation of the true law. Behind the idea of a natural law is the assumption that natural phenomena can be reliably described and predicted by such laws. If on the most fundamental level there is no consistency, that is the laws of nature are variable or in flux and there is no larger pattern or law to this variation, then it is impossible to describe the universe using laws. However, that is inconsistent with experience and all logical thinking. It would take significant philosophical acrobatics if not be outright impossible to imagine a lawless universe that manages to resemble our own in our lifetimes. If a law is true, then it is necessarily applicable to the whole universe, not just our local space. However, it is very likely that a law is incomplete, or an approximation, that only agrees with observation so long as we only test within our neck of the woods. Trying to then apply this law to further reaches then breaks down, since we could not say that it is universally applicable, as we then have yet to discover the universally applicable law that applies beyond the local subset or "special case" law that we have found. Space is necessarily homogeneous, but it is entirely possible to derive physical laws that apply only to our local space. Further such subset laws may be able to account for the vast number of observable phenomena beyond our local space, but should breakdown at scales far beyond our local range. Newton's laws of motion represent a set of approximations that break down far outside of our local space, specifically at speeds approaching those of the speed of light. For a law to offer true insight and provide predictive power, it must extend beyond our local space. However, with new laws and knowledge we expand the horizon of our local space, so that we must probe further at the extremes to gain further insight.
God Is Dead
But his ghost is still kicking around. The ghost of god persists in two forms, one as religion and the other as spirituality (without religious organization). I should be more precise and state that when I say spirituality or spiritualism I mean it on a more personal level. Spirituality exists in many forms in organized religion, but it really is a much more personal aspect and can be viewed as independent of a religious institution.
Spirituality, I believe, is worse than the institution of religion. When combined with religion it is very dangerous indeed. This will upset many. After all, what harm is it to believe your own superstitions and keep them to yourself? It would seem that the real danger lies in large institutions such as the Catholic Church, which has historically carried out atrocities, or evangelical Christians with a warmongering agenda. Such institutions, however, must feed off of a spiritual populace, a populace open to faith, belief, and mystery.
Superstitions, the belief in the supernatural, and faith are all corrosive aspects of a society that have become entangled in religious institutions and deeply wedded to them. In an early society, the religious institution serves primarily as the institution of law. At this stage, the religious institution itself could be viewed as a positive force on societal development. But as time progresses, the inflexibility of the religious institution will cause it to impede societal progress. The institution will seize upon superstition to maintain power in the face of decreasing relevance. But it would never be able to do so in a society that was unreceptive to superstition.
Spirituality, I believe, is worse than the institution of religion. When combined with religion it is very dangerous indeed. This will upset many. After all, what harm is it to believe your own superstitions and keep them to yourself? It would seem that the real danger lies in large institutions such as the Catholic Church, which has historically carried out atrocities, or evangelical Christians with a warmongering agenda. Such institutions, however, must feed off of a spiritual populace, a populace open to faith, belief, and mystery.
Superstitions, the belief in the supernatural, and faith are all corrosive aspects of a society that have become entangled in religious institutions and deeply wedded to them. In an early society, the religious institution serves primarily as the institution of law. At this stage, the religious institution itself could be viewed as a positive force on societal development. But as time progresses, the inflexibility of the religious institution will cause it to impede societal progress. The institution will seize upon superstition to maintain power in the face of decreasing relevance. But it would never be able to do so in a society that was unreceptive to superstition.
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