the world is the thickest concept

lecture notes on gradients of thick description and thin control

apple bites the rainbow serpent © 2023 meika loofs samorzewski

I do not write because I know but because I do not even…

Writing out in order to think, publishing (blogging) in order to make progress by logging errors, with a timestamp.

To thin the thick, to thick the thin. A self-similar process given/taken as progress. Two-steps to step once more, again, and waltz into making. A ritual of time, a rite of scales, balanced or logarithmic in, like measures of forbearance and sets of exercise to build muscle and strength, an embodied identity naming itself as even…

The world is lived, the world is made live-able.

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I find I write anyways, but I now publish because I think I have found a something.

It is a new frame, I write to explain it. Often from within the frame, where I risk failing to communicate anything, and appear schizotypal. And so I explain nothing, I mind this failure to communicate, but do not mind that I am failing. The world goes on, despite our errors.

The fear.

The only bad error is the one you don’t walk away from.

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I have found a something, that does not even organise/make/order as much as it shoulds us to do so. As much as it urges we should. It subtends us at an angle, it does not care which angle mind.

“Which preference” is up to you/me/us. It merely urges the expectations of some sort of organisation, thus creates the world and its order, not directly like some god, but indirectly, and barely even. Thus the fear that order and morality are fragile and near to breaking point is not odd at all, but commonplace even. A normal fear of failure, near to us, each and all.

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The only bad fear is the one that hope does not walk away from.

Fear = hope.

Contexts distils them, when we pivot from one side of Janus to the other. Much like credit/blame are regarded as different things. But are they? Really?

Nothing makes them the same, but what we differ them by.

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How can you credit or blame something which only indicates a whiff of order, which suggests with a hint of a maybe — all responsibilities, which drives us to do so— an urge with no declaration of intent.

There is no just cause.

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I want to inquire as to how things come about, and the answer nods back at us “yes, do that, make it so…”

Nods.

Which doesn’t even...

No wonder we thrown our arms up, and bow our heads as we throw ourselves into the gap.

This is an idolatrous outcome, the worst ideology. We worship ourselves as gods responsible for everything we make ourselves, but the actual cause is not seen as it makes nothing we care about. It makes us make ourselves.

As if we are blinded, and in our blindness we make blindness a deity, and reality a creature blind to its own hope/fear or credit/blame.

The game is a sport.

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I have found a something which urges a frame, urges us to frame, but one of no particular value, no specific kind, no exacting type, except to urge us to organise the world, and do so with far less than we would prefer, and so expectations are not met.

Pick one pick one pick one pick one, any one, pick one.

So there is a gap we feel we should fill, we are geared to live/world an over-abundance of explanation/order/cause/luck/conspiracy.

Instead of order and mathematics, or gods of fortune and luck, at the source there is less than that, while mixing all of them up into a thing that survives us. In which we live.

A body, a world. More than that.

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A faculty or two whose functions are ours by choice, if often forced on us (pick one, pick me, pick me) and not through direct mechanical or select hormonal or informational measures or rules, nor modelling aimed at directly growing the world, no, not even by intimidation, but by a subtle intimation and the merest hint of a suggestion, all a bit wiffy on the wind. And that’s it.

That’s it.

We do the rest. As we should, because reality and evolution do not care. They cannot. They are not us.

It is a thickness of outcome, based on the barest of indications. The thin extremities are merely where the thickness ends, like the hairs on our heads. The thin ends are our selves, now abject, where notice and concern dissipate just as they accrued from nothing, where senses fail or identity is declared at an end, making it so.

Mistakes, mismakes, often confused with the end. All made up.

We live in the middling landscapes between the thin universals that ground us in evolution and the thin abstractions we draw out of experience, like virtues, to heaven our grandchildren. We often see the two thin extremities as indistinguishable, for we live between them, move between, keeping apart… —between heavens high and deep abysses in the earth.

We live by composing movements in a world thus made in combining our movements across these thin substrates and thus thickened landscapes, which then form thickening bodies and politics, just the now thin polities would terrain the world into order.

It is confusing, all of this. Between.

So order empowers thick territories but then fine divisions of empires without border arises like greedy fish, as we seeking property in space, our proper place in the sun, all the while wanting to wish to need to roam without recognition about us, but as famous as the sun, as if we solitary ‘me’s without a world to should you&me into us. In a flight that returns to orbit, as if nothing has happened.

But a life is lived.

Logic is a hindsight. It's success is a blindsight of what is to come.

("Prediction is hard especially about the future...")

We live that ride as a Janus agent, pivot forward/back all day long in a spin of experience. Sometimes an agent free, forced, or not at all. (I suspect it is all of the above: free, forced, determined, pick none) Gödel’s self-recursive party trick is not so much an out, a way out of the determined mechanical hard reality, but as an indicator of a category error somewhere's.

Perhaps entropy is only apparent. (there is an analogy there between flow and the movement we live in the flow as animals).

Our preferred pathway is one we (have) known, the tangle of cables under our desk is not preferred, but easily generated. And as likely as our preferred "tangle"/system. Our preferred pathway (stable structures) are not more likely than others, but we prefer them. So we intervene. To our frustration.

We pick things out of the flow, at meetings we name them, aligning our Janus experiences and blame the corrupting influence of entropy for our own failures to educate our young. We live thick rules, but from the hindsight of logic we develop the ground rules and discover evolution, (and other thin rule dismal sciences) but in the thickness of our safety and security, we pivot onwards, on the threshold of life through thick and thin, and in that hope, in the wish fulfilment, we build belief into abstract thin rules like Truth, and thus, then confuse beliefs with propositions in an attempt to unite all thin rules (as above, so below) into one, as if we never had meetings or meals together. Or in an attempt get rid of them. As if we were not ever there.

Janus and Justice dance blindsided by their responsibilities © 2023 meika loofs samorzewski