GASLIT LIAR

August 14th, 2019

Memory is problematic.  It bends, warps, disappears, and mutates into all sorts of things that we have not necessarily experienced.  This is both opportunity and ultimately the downfall of a person who does not practice honesty. 

Insidious people can gaslight other people through lies because those people have inherently imperfect memories that cannot combat another suggested version of reality with perfect fidelity.

This questionable memory is the thin edge of the wedge for a gaslighter.  And the only real weapon against such tactics is honesty.  Certainly an honest person is still at risk to the machinations of the gaslighter, but consider the alternative.

The one who lies, either casually or intensely now has to try and keep track of two realities: the truth and the one they’ve created.  Compound this with our imperfect memory and suddenly the liar has more potential cause to wonder what is what.  The liar has to compare the potentially fictional attack of a gaslighter against their memory of reality and their memory of what stories they’ve spun up in that reality.

There’s simply more ground upon which to doubt one’s self.

Reality is difficult enough to keep track of without a fictional version, and this is how an honest person minimizes the risk of being gaslit by some sort of sociopath.

Even better, the honest person has the ultimate tool in which to test a gaslighter’s story: that is… reality.  The key here is an emotional one: effective liars convince based on the emotions they display and manipulate in order to sway the course of story that is being created.  If an honest person can pause, and simply recognize this influencing and potentially intoxicating factor, it becomes much easier to ask ‘what is what’ from a dispassionate standpoint.  The story of the gaslighter can then be tested against reality instead of one’s own memory.  We can look up a fact, an event, or talk to other people.  There are many points upon which to ping the story against.

This is perhaps a reason why Stockholm Syndrome exists.  Stockholm Syndrome is when someone who has been taken captive ends up with positive feelings for their attacker.  In isolation, the amount of reality a captive is exposed to is severely diminished.  And figuring out what is what depends on far fewer points of contact.  It’s like trying to balance a table on just two legs.  It’s so easy to fall, whereas when we have the full breadth of reality afforded by a free person, there are many more points upon which to test ideas.  Instead of balancing a table on two points, i.e. the memory of the captive and the story spun by the captor, a free person can consult many sources of opinion and information, and then it’s like balancing a table on a dozen legs. 

Stockholm Syndrome aside, we can remind ourselves of Richard Feynman’s excellent directive:

“The first principle is that you must not fool yourself – and you are the easiest person to fool.”

If we think about this in the context of lying and honesty, we can ask:

Who is more likely to be fooled? 

The honest person?

or

The one who willingly creates and entertains fictions?

STUBBORN WINNER

August 13th, 2019

~ As a counterpoint to the previous episode entitled Determined Loser, the stubborn winner is far less well positioned. ~

To succeed on the first try is perhaps just as dangerous as believing one is a failure when an effort doesn’t work out.

They each have symmetrical downsides.  The winner who stubbornly believes they understand all the factors that contributed to their success is at risk of developing a hubris which can raise the chance of a big misstep.

Likewise, the one whose efforts fail is at risk of believing themselves a failure and giving up all hope of trying again.  As opposed to a determined loser who keeps trying despite failure, the one who stops is a perhaps a rigid loser.  The rigid loser is inflexible in the same way the stubborn winner views the mechanics of their success.  The flip of the stubborn winner might be a humble winner.

Now, which of these terms is most likely to lead to the other?

We have:

Determined Loser

Stubborn Winner

Rigid Loser &

Humble Winner

A humble winner might fail on their next attempt.  And which category of loser would this most likely land them?  A determined loser of a Rigid loser? 

A stubborn winner may also fail on their next attempt.  Are they more likely to become a rigid loser, a sort of bad sport, a bad loser, or a determined loser? 

How about from the other side of the fence.

Is a determined loser more likely to become a winner of either variety?  Or is the rigid loser more likely?

While these are unrefined terms, it’s not hard to see that the determined loser is more likely to come across a ‘win’ than the rigid loser is. 

The defining characteristic of the determined loser is the ability to pivot and try something knew.  This requires flexibility which the rigid loser fails to have by definition.

The key here is to realize that the words ‘winner’ and ‘loser’ are irrelevant.

The real tension is between rigidness and flexibility.

For this purpose, we interpret determination to have more flexibility than stubbornness.

And likewise, we see humility as having more flexibility than stubbornness.

The structure here is innately rivalnymic.  They are opposing flavors of strategy that are trying to achieve the same thing.

(For a thorough treatment of Rivalnyms, check out Episode 293: Rivalnym)

Humility and stubbornness are rival approaches towards how we think about future actions that may result in success or failure.

From an emotional standpoint, humility equips us with a lower probability that we will experience dejected embarrassment when something doesn’t work out.  The hubris of being stubborn opens us up to embarrassment.  Granted, some people might have a useful tendency of turning such embarrassment into anger, which can galvanize future action, and while this may also lead to success, we must ask: how enjoyable is that whole process?  Sure you might eventually win, but we also eventually die. 

There’s little point in the success if you can’t figure out how to achieve some kind of enjoyable peace with the process.

What’s the best recipe for that end?

Rigid Stubbornness?

or

Humble determination?

This episode references Episode 293: Rivalnym and Episode 484: Determined Loser

DETERMINED LOSER

August 12th, 2019

Episode 411 of Tinkered Thinking examined how quantity has a quality all its own.  In short, producing a huge quantity of work is more likely to produce something of quality than efforts that are minutely focused on quality alone.

Ponder for a moment this relationship in terms of Mother Nature.  Throughout the eons she has created a dizzying array of creatures.  Did she spend her time trying to make one perfect species at a time?  Definitely not.  In fact, creating one species at a time doesn’t  seem possible considering how interdependent species generally are.  She created species furiously, and extinction has greeted most all of her creations throughout the history of our planet. 

Does Mother Nature mourn the extinction of her creations?

Quite doubtful.  If anything, to anthropomorphize something as pervasive and foundational as Mother Nature and evolution would require us to imagine the ultimate stoic in terms of creation.

There’s not even enough time to think ‘oh well!’ when a species goes extinct.  It’s a mind numbing charge forward.  If anything Mother Nature looks like a runaway train who purposely made the invention of brakes impossible.

But let’s switch tracks and bring these ideas to a far more local and individual level.  For the person who creates, what sort of mindset is best equipped for the chaos of results and the uncertainty of tomorrow?  Might we take a nod from the juggernaut that is Mama Nature?

She has lost almost all of her creations to the whims of extinction.

She is, the ultimate loser, but a determined loser.

Despite all her loss and species that go extinct daily, her planet has never seen a state as we currently have.  She is unafraid to branch out through electricity and ideas, through memes and beliefs, though they line up rows of casualties.

While it’s not possible to know without the retrospect afforded by the end of time, Mother Nature’s strategy seems built on the belief that quality will inevitably arise and sort itself out given a high enough quantity of creative action over time.

Does Mother Nature get discouraged by her failures?

Failure is a concept that we created.  It is a concept that we are somewhat forced to operate within.

Imagine for a moment if you’d never been taught the concept of failure.

The only way that the concept of failure hinders Mother Nature is through our own self-restraint in accordance to a limiting feeling of failure.

Otherwise, Mother Nature is blind to failure as we see it.

She lurches forward with absolute recklessness, the sort that we would ascribe to a maniac. 

Indeed, she created the maniac.

It might seem crazy to continue given such a heavy record of failure.   But being a bit crazy might be the only sure fire way of getting anywhere.

Like patience, it succeeds as long as it lasts.

We fail to have a chance the moment we stop taking chances.

A LUCILIUS PARABLE: LOST IN TRANSLATION

August 11th, 2019

The kiss and lick of water echoed up through the wood of the old ferry as it moved across the ancient river.  Lucilius grimaced at the metallic taste in his mouth, and looked back at the old and quiet ferryman.

“Do you ever get tired of your job?”  Lucilius asked, his voice a bit garbled.

The ferryman stared at him for a moment and then looked back out over the bow of the ferry as he lifted the long pole and pushed the ferry closer to the far side of the river.

“You ever take a break and enjoy all that money you’ve got?”  Lucilius prodded again.

The ferryman didn’t even look at him.  But merely plodded his ferry onward through the murky waters.

“Yea, ok.  Tough crowd.” Lucilius mumbled to himself.

The distance ahead thinned and the bow thudded lightly and rose on the muddy bank.  Lucilius jumped up to get out, but the ferryman extended his hand.

“Oh yea,” Lucilius said.  He reached into his mouth and retrieved a silver dollar from under his tongue.  He flicked it in a high arc and the ferryman snatched it from the air, staring at Lucilius the whole time. 

“Well, thanks I guess.  See you later.”  Lucilius said.

The ferryman raised an eyebrow.  “Doubtful,” he said. 

“Oh, don’t you worry,” Lucilius said.  “I have friends in creative places.”

An insidious smile carved up the ferryman’s face and he abruptly stabbed the pole into the sloped bank, pushing the ferry back and making Lucilius stumble onto the land.

Lucilius sighed watching the ferryman drift back into a mist. 

“People can get so grumpy doing the same thing day in and day out, year after year.”

He got up, dusted himself off and turned towards the grey landscape. 

“Well,” he spoke out loud to himself. “They said it would be dreary.”

He tramped up the embankment and looked out over a field filled with people like zombies, mindless ghosts of themselves, milling about. 

“As above, same as below… pretty much.” Lucilius said to himself as he walked towards the crowd to explore.

Lucilius wandered for quite a long time, longer than he could tell or keep track of.  Something about the place felt a bit like being drunk .  Time seemed to slow and pass by faster than he could catch.  Travelling to a place he could see somehow seemed to take forever, as though he were wading through a dream.  And other times, merely thinking about being there seemed to teleport him to the place.

Eventually the sweet smell of cedar and pine came to him and he followed the scent.  Out of the dingy mist, away from the milling crowd, Lucilius came across grass growing in the mud, short shrubs, and before long he found himself surrounded by huge trees.  A distant zing barely rang out through the woods, and Lucilius walked towards the sound.  He came upon a house, half-built and walked through the arched entrance.

Inside was a woodshop, full of tools, saws, drills and the like and a man in a white robe was bent over a piece of wood, checking the angle of a saw before clicking it into loud life and slicing the wood.  Lucilius looked closer without moving.

“No shit,” he said.  “You’re here?”

The man practically jumped, startled as he was, looking around.  When he saw Lucilius his blank face stuttered in comprehension before it widened with a gentler surprise.

“Lucilius?”

“Yea,” Lucilius said, overjoyed to see his old childhood friend.  “Holy shit.  Like literally.”

The two went to one another and took each other into a long embrace.

“So what are you doing here?” Lucilius asked, looking around.  “Building.. a house, I guess?”

“Sort of,” the man said.  “Every time I nail a couple pieces of wood together, a few nails somewhere else disappear, and something falls apart.”  The man paused looking around, and as he did, a few planks of wood making up part of a wall gently eased away from the others and fell to the floor. 

“I haven’t exactly figured out the trick to making it all come together…”

The two laughed.  “Ah, it’s good to see you Lucilius.  Been a while since I’ve seen a kind face.”

“I can imagine,” Lucilius said.  His face brightened.  “So I heard you once walked on water, that true?”

“Nah, I’m just a really good swimmer.  You know how people exaggerate, especially when you can do something they can’t.  They think you’re bloody magical.”

“And that coming back from the dead thing?”

“Aw, hell, I was just tired.  People have come back from worse.”  He looked around.  “Though, I am hoping to figure that one out.”

“And the wine?”

“Well, when you’ve got a group of people that dehydrated, everyone gets delirious over a sip of water.”

The man sighed in frustration, stumbling over unsaid words.

“Look at it this way, everyone is eager to misinterpret things in ways that entitle them to be lazier.  If it takes divine and transcendental power to be a good person, then no one feels all that obligated to be a good person.  All that’s required is a little misinterpretation.  A little bend and warp of a word or two here, a totally misremembered sentence there.  Even if everything I’ve said and done was somehow perfectly recorded, there would still be ways to misinterpret what’s happened, and what was meant.  You can not help someone who is unwilling to help themselves.  You can only offer your help, your thoughts, and your example and pray that one day they will grow enough to make sense of it all in the way it was intended.”

Lucilius nodded.  “Yea, I’ve found much the same really.  But, like come on, even I was pretty pumped to believe all that stuff.  Just sounded so cool.”

The man rolled his eyes.  And Lucilius feared annoying his old friend, and thought of switching the subject.

“So, how exactly did you get here again?”  Lucilius asked.

“Oh, my father sent me here.  Said I could maybe try to clean up the place,”  The man paused.  “Then again, he said that about the last place he sent me to.”  A troubled look came across his face as he realized the implications of this realization.

Lucilius shrugged, “maybe the cause is lost if it’s not your own.  Isn’t that what you were just saying?” 

The man looked at Lucilius and after a long moment. He smiled, and he laughed.  Lucilius joined in as they both basked in the absurdity of their situation.

Lucilius’ old friend looked around after their joy settled.

“Well, I guess I’m done trying to build this house.  I suppose now it’s time to figure out how get out here.”

“I got you covered,” Lucilius said.

“You know how to get out of this hell hole?”

“Let’s just I’ve got a resourceful friend in a creative place.”

With all the jeering awkwardness that comes with an abrupt narrative shift, Lucilius and his old friend suddenly found themselves on a beach in Mexico.  The two were laid out on towels, in bathing suits, sweating comfortably under tall sun and blue sky.

Lucilius’ friend looked around.  “Wow.  How’d you do that?”

Lucilius smiled.  “I have no idea.”

COGNITIVE FABRIC

August 10th, 2019

To be lost in thought is to miss the moment.

This echoes what Allen Saunders said and what John Lennon popularized: “Life is what happens to you while you’re busy making other plans.”

The moment is inherently neutral.  It’s our reaction to it post-moment that colors it with judgment, offense, joy and all that makes life good or bad.  The same applies to our thoughts about future moments.  We fear bad things happening, we hope for good things.  It’s this imaginative and reactive space where most of us live most of our lives.

Meditative practices, specifically those practices that orbit the idea of mindfulness are ultimately techniques for shedding the habit of living in the imagination and being more present with the moment.

During meditation, there inevitably comes a moment when a person realizes they’ve been lost in thought.  For the beginner this can birth a feeling of failure, and the next thought is concerned with beating up one’s self for not doing the correct thing.  This is, of course, getting lost in a new thought, which can again evoke a feeling of failure.  But this is an ability of mindfulness beginning to come to life and poke holes in the cognitive fabric of the mind.

This ‘feeling of failure’ is paradoxically a signal of success.

It’s the opposite of patience in terms of structure.

Patience is a success only as long at it lasts.

Whereas in this context of meditation, success occurs as soon as failure is recognized.

In meditation, an individual is constantly beginning again, as thoughts are recognized from a mindful position and released. Patience is the name of the game: over the course of days, months and years, we seek to make these mindful moments more numerous and therefore more probable in the future.  In some sense we are simply reminding ourselves that this neutral remove and reflection upon the intoxication of a thought is possible, and the moment we remember this possibility, it happens.

The concepts of success and failure here eventually blur and ameliorate one another.

To recognize a thought and label it a failure is simply a new thought, although it is a reflection of that prior thought with a negative tint.

Likewise if we label that ‘failure’ as a success.  Noticing that we’ve been lost in thought can eventually feel like a success, but to think of it as such is to do the same thing: it’s a reflection of that prior thought with a positive tint.

These reflective thoughts of judgment can also be noticed, and ultimately we can release them.  What falls into place is whatever is happening: the sensations of breathing, of the heartbeat and body.

It’s almost as though our cognitive fabric begins like a thick blanket that we start to poke holes in as it slides by.

Eventually it might look like disorganized tatter, and the goal might be to achieve some sort of beautiful macramé. 

The truth may be closer to a kind of woven dance that attention plays between external reality as it occurs and what our internal processes can contribute by way of interpretation, thought, and action.

But this is just a thought, which has used your mind as a host in the moment and in so doing become a thread in your cognitive fabric.