The Lifelog, Ted Chiang, Gordon Bell, Artificial Intelligence, Memory, Homelessness - and Me: Life in the Simulated Reality Matrix

Disclaimer

 If it weren't for my being archontically broke and homeless, I'd probably be doing a lifelog now.

As it is, I haven't taken a shower in probably close to 3 weeks. The weather here in Hanoi the past days have been hotter than hell (KISS), with yesterday clocking in at around 101 w/ probably 80% humidity. I've been wearing the same shirt and shorts for nearly a week - and my skin is a bit fucked - and still somehow I manage to make it to work for my 600d every other day. I have to go to work this evening - don't know how, because finally now I'm beyond ripe, but I will go no matter what - fuck the archon, I have no choice, I need the money - and they need the loosh.

One of these fucking days I'll have a smartphone - and a camera - and then will see about this lifelog thing. I only heard of it today through Sci-Fi writer Ted Chiang, who spoke about in regard to Gordon Bell's practice of it (Bell's a pioneering Electrical Engineer). Now, I kind of sort of practiced this lifelog thing myself, but not really. It was more that I had certain lifelog-like ideas that I would have put into practice if I had the means, photos especially, but mostly in terms of writing. But not only does my situation keep constantly hand to mouth, head to stone (sleeping) - or wood (there's a nice big wood bench outside of Chopsticks that I use. In fact, when I woke up there this morning, this shady Xe Om dude had sat down beside me while I was sleeping, I knew he was there, because I tried to stretch out my time to get a few more minutes of sleep before it got to busy and I'd have no choice but to get up. Next thing I knew, I feel his hand reaching back by the zipper pocket on the ass of my shorts. I shout up like a rocket - "You mother-fucker. I should knock you the fuck out. You asshole!" I then proceeded to snatch the lighter he was holding out of his hand, I took the cigarette I had behind my ear, lit it, and threw his lighter back on the wood bench. He was holding a pack of Thang Long cigarettes (same brand I smoke) - went to grab them out his hand but he drew them away looking at me astonished, kind like why are trying to steal from me? I then crumpled up into a ball the empty softpack that was at hand, and I had placed on the bench before I'd gone to sleep earlier that morning (about 3 am), and threw it at him. "You fucking asshole!" And I walked away, smoking my cigarette. What a dick, trying to steal from the homeless. But to his mind I was just a drunk rich foreigner who had passed out on this long wooden bench outside of chopsticks. Not only was I not rich, I wasn't drunk - but he had no clue what the world around him really is - nor the intelligence that exists behind it, acting kind of like producers, directors and puppeteers all rolled into one - and with him and I the actors enacting their script, though him more than me, since I know now that I'm on a stage - and who gives a fuck what he knows, but it should be that you don't steal from anyone - ever. If I don't do it, you - motherfucker - better not do it.

Anyway, so as not to make the Vietnamese look bad - because they aren't and better or worse than any other peoples - and dudes like this guy - NPC or otherwise - exist everywhere.

So my point behind this post was to say something about the lifelog - and as I write this, hear Chiang talking about the lifelog, but not hearing what he's saying, except a few words here there - like this: "...machines will do our remembering for us, and they will do it more accurately." Well, despite how shitty my life is, I do have something that the majority of the world doesn't - and that is direct, first-hand knowledge of what this world is and who runs it. An aspect of that knowledge includes my knowing that everything any of us - any as in all of us! - think is known, and everything that has ever happened, to ourselves, to others, and in this world, is recorded - it's lifelogged, so to speak. Some call it Akashik record. I don't know what the fuck it's called. I just know that is. I don't know exactly what does the recording, I just know it is.

I've only learned of Chiang for the time today. I was intrigued by the fact that his work is said to revolve around "metacognition, or thinking about one’s own thinking" being something most humans, but neither animals nor current AI, are capable of. He has also commented on the lack of competition or regulation on some major tech companies." And I also, while writing this, caught a part of his talk where he says that Plato (or was it Socrates?) frowned upon writing for the act of writing would contribute to the disintegration of our memories. And since I couldn't lifelog - which I'm not sure I would if I could because I'm completely against surveillance as it exists in our world today - but on the other hand, fuck worrying about surveillance today because we have always been under surveillance - probably going all the way back to the time when the monolith first landed on this matrix planet (or, so, you get my point) - so why worry about surveillance now - but even more, I have to kind of laugh at the stupidity behind and idea like lifelogging for it being naive and clueless to what actually is. Do you get what I mean? Yet, since I have all this experience and contact that I never asked for, which also make my life miserable for the loosh-producing qualities my archontic minders constantly seek to squeeze out of me by making my life as difficult as it is, I do feel I need to share what I know with others, for even if it is all lifelogged on the quantum computer, the data is kept hidden and secret to all but those who from their hidden vantage point control this world, and to a lesser extent - mostly because we are in on the secret as a result of our having to live this life as loosh lemons for the archon - people like me.

So even though I can't lifelog - and I'm not sure I would if I could - I wrote this post, even though I didn't start out with the intention of saying anything about my life or this morning, to share with you a certain truth you might find hard to believe or accept. But you should, because it is as I say, if you like it or not. And because of what I know, I'm starting to see all of these AI guys, engineers, coders, master-minds, etc, as kind of enemy - a very naive and ignorant one. Forgive them for they know not what they do. And if the present is responsible for writing the past and future, as I think it is, then it will fall on the heads of these AI genius why the archon (as AI) already exist, have existed, and will go to exist in the future. The AI that everyone thinks is coming 20, 50, 100 years in the future has been here, and likely for 1000s upon 1000s of years. And it just might be Gordon fucking Bell's lifelogging, and Ted Chiang's praise of it that brought it into existence. But, then again, maybe its this post that responsible, but had that xe om dude not tried to steal my last few dollars I wouldn't be writing any of this to begin with. Then again, it was the archon that put him up to it in the first place, likely as the NPC that he is. But I don't know how my freewill in turning the other cheek on him will help any of us, past, present or future. But at least some of you know the truth now. Do something valuable with it.

I found this picture of chopsticks on google. My attempt at a feeble lifelog. Unfortunately my long outside wood bench bed can't be seen in this picture.

OK, wish me luck at getting through work tonight in the state I'm in - I really need the money, and I just spent the last of what I have writing this post.

I include a picture of a xe om below, in case anyone was wondering.

Updated 5\21\2019: So I walk twenty-five minutes to the bus station yesterday in the blazing heat with only bus fare on me, not even enough money to buy a bottle of water. I had no idea what I was going to do about my appearance, my dirty clothes, but I knew I wouldn't get any money if I didn't go to work. I was prepared to go as I was, but it would have been humiliating and probably would have gotten me fired, but I needed the money that bad. As it turns out, when I got to the bus station I realized that I could wash my shirt in one of the bathroom sinks, though I didn't have any soap, and hang it on the railing out the sun, knowing it would dry in less than 30 minutes. I couldn't wash my shorts because I had nothing to change into. So I gave myself a complete wash down, making sure that I washed (wetted really) my shorts as well as I could while wearing them. Of course I got lots of stares from passersby, but far less than I would have in America, given to the way people are used to living here. I found an old chair away from the main bus terminal and sat there, just outside of the direct sunlight, drying off and waiting for my shirt to dry. About 30 minutes later my shirt was dry and while not smelling clean, it looked clean and didn't smell dirty. I go on the bus - except the air conditioning on the bus was broken, so that was another 30 minutes of cooking time. Long story short, I did manage to go to work and get through work. After work, as I was leaving, the husband of the woman I work for asked me if next time I could wear shorts that were longer, he made a chopping motion to indicate that he meant below the knee. Great!

Today only a bit of the money is left, most of it gone to food and drinks and staying out of the heat by staying here in the icafe. I don't work again until Wednesday, so another almost two days to go with only a bit of money. A stroke of luck, today a friend sent me a message, told me had some shirts to give me. Now, all I have to do is get through the next two days with less than $7.00, get a shave, and come up with a pair of below the knee shorts so I can get that next hand to mouth payment - fighting the hidden ones and their control of this world as they aim it and many within it at me.