Cross Section

What are we? A cross section in spacetime, aka flatland, of divinity. We are what divinity appears to be when viewed or experienced from a finite perspective, bounded by / projected into a simulation of limitation.

How do I know this? I observe, I cultivate intuition, and I am lucky.

The human ride is not imposed on me, on us. The ride is not under the control of other. I myself created the game and entered in. I chose to have a little amnesia, to see if not knowing would be fun, efficacious, productive. That might seem counter intuitive, for how can ignorance be an advantage? Perhaps because not knowing means a limiting story cannot pre-configure reality, curiosity and imagination are activated and we can discover / create afresh. Quoth AE, "Imagination is more important than knowledge." What did he mean, exactly? One is invited to wonder about this, by the childhood poster. Where did I get this poster, I wonder. Did Barbara Jo use that poster as her reference? Such a beautiful gift she left behind, both to remember her and to keep this clue close to hand.

Firewood, Microcosm or Placeholder for the Farm

I don't know if you're out there, still. My friends, my family. For the movie seems to be real, the Philip K factor is in play. Be careful those who aspire follow his lead, for he opened a portal that was more than story, he sees to have stumbled upon actuality. The tenuous interface between belief and manifestation. I was doing DOG as what I imagined to be something more than an homage to PKD, a proof of concept, what all those terrible Hollywood movies missed, deliberately or through incompetence. The essence of PKD, and now what? My movie and my experience, the world, blend, overlap, comingle.

This is why I cut firewood. Chop wood, carry water. Fire is a fundamental, and selling firewood a worthy if humble avocation. I am supporting folk who are even slightly off grid, giving a gentle middle finger to the carbon haters, and most importantly, practicing a sort of zen warding against going full fiction, grounding out. I have a glimpse now of what you did, Philip. I am sobered and inspired, that energy is hot and immediate. Storytelling is playing with the cosmic fire, you figured that out. You went wizard on us, but maybe without realizing. From an outside perspective, maybe easier to see and learn, how to proceed. Be gentler, easier on ourselves.

Let me tell you what happened...

2020, There Seems to be a Plan.

"Once you know what you are, there are no mistakes." Daughter of God

I could start with the past, where we left off a half decade back, and work forward. Some stories go backward and even sideways. So let's see what happens if I start with the now. Am I a movie maker? Specifically, an artist working in cinema? Maybe, depends on how one defines process. If thinking and living cinematically counts then fuck yes, I am a movie maker. Are my cameras old, is my editorial software no longer supported? Also fuck yes. Has the time come to realign the inner experience with instrumentality? Perhaps. What I know is that the podcast, the documentation is how I choose to begin.

why.movie is the trail of breadcrumbs I leave behind. If those breadcrumbs dissolve in the rain or gobbled up by birds, so be it. The open internet could eventually be destroyed, but for now, this world wide web is my way.

On why.movie I can share with a significant fraction of humanity, maybe even with extra terrestrials and the trans-dimensional. Perhaps here I encourage compassionate explorers and derail aspiring tyrants.

Mostly though, I can hear myself think, I can check in with the ancestors, I can channel mystery. Here is where the magic becomes apparent, crystalizing out of the slurry of a thousand youtube videos, vintage paperbacks, antique apples, miles of trail running, coffee in my ass and so forth. This is both a cognitive mirror and blueprint flat file.

An couple of whacky intuitions for our mutual consideration. Intuition the first - maybe by utilizing the web in this way, I am immunizing the web against efforts to smother it with ads and propaganda. I see evidence of others doing this, whether they know it or not. [corbett, adam curry, rocket girl, farm guy]

Intuition the Second. Science Fiction stories are rife with software agents that are tuned to individual humans. Personal assistants slash pratorian guard slash digital extensions. William Gibson comes to mind. If agents are developed using an iPhone or Facebook model, then we might as well resign ourselves to a life of copper toppery [matrix] What if I could buil from scratch an agent that was patterned after me? Vet the components to be fuckery free and then have the scrape my own web archives?

I'm not saying Elon Musk is wrong headed with neural link. I might appreciate a direct mind machine interface but I sure as hell would not buy one off the shelf, (remember the iphone and facebook) and I would be extremely cautious about compromising my million year old biological intelligence with surgery. I admit to being intrigued by Ray Kurzweil aspiration to resurrect his dad using old phone bills and analog recordings of his concerts. My brothers and I destroyed most of our father's old phone bills, but I kept lots of other breadcrumb including his hard drives. Unfortunately, his last decade was tainted by Parkinsons so I'm not sure that resurrection using that as a basis would be such a good idea

But I don't think I'm crazy yet, so maybe my archives could be the basis for a DIY DKAI,  perhaps with Asimov's Three Rules of Robotics as a starting point?

The AI revolution was proclaimed a year ago. I tried Dali and chat gpt.  There were... anomalies. Did I document the slow downed response? Supposed to not be able to retrieve new info, a rarely accessed archive?) As I've mentioned on past episodes, I am no stranger to coding. According to Techguy, coding is going the way of wooden wagon wheels. So to reboot my coding chops would be akin to deciding to be Amish. They are the folks who manage our raw cream share, by the way. The Amish also had a sane response to covid, so maybe they are the future. Wagon wheels, baby.

Anyway, that concludes the Intuition the second.

Still with me?