Thursday, December 18, 2008

Why Archy beats Anarchy

The function of a law, a rule or a moral is not to erradicate totally the behaviour against which it proscribes but rather to reduce the probability that the majority of society faces of becoming a victim of that particular behaviour to such a low degree that it becomes more reasonable, from a cost/benefit basis, on the part of any given individual member of that society to forgo taking prohibitive precautions against such an occurence in their day to day lives.

Boy, that was a long sentence....Continued...

Tuesday, December 16, 2008

Good Butterfly, Bad Butterfly.


The following was inspired by the film I just saw: The Day the Earth stood still - the 2008 remake with Keanu Reeves - not the 50's classic. Not the worst film I've seen this year, but Jesus H. Christ, philosophically, that film was cheese. And not even good cheese.

Anyway - spoilers - in the end Klaatu [the incarnate son of the sphere-god] sacrifices himself on the cross, er, sphere once again to save humanity [in which he has found some goodness, or at least noble self sacrifice for one's child, or at least PC WASP sacrifice for genetically unrelated black kid - ie: altruism of the non "it doesn't count if it's kin-selection" kind] from the klutches of the vengeful old-testament GORT er, God, er, GORT.

So far so Americanized Post-Christian NewMyth™....Continued...

Tuesday, December 09, 2008

The Book of Nothing

Notes on "The Book of Nothing" by JD Barrow.


...Continued...

Monday, November 24, 2008

Why Modern Man is such a Hopeless Fucking Dope.

I'm probably not alone in observing that modern man doesn't really hold up much of a candle when compared to the likes of the old heroes - Beowulf strips down to his tattoos and single handedly boots Grendel's arse back into his mother's crevice, Achilles hacks off arms without breaking a sweat; hell, even James Bond still manages to kick some butt despite having being made to put a lid on the sexist remarks and grow a fledgling social conscience.
...Continued...

As Below, So above.

Back in the eighties, when I was young, and dumb, and dressed in black, not to mention still a virgin, I studied the occult - mainly with the extremely optimistic aim of majicking some poor cow's undies down.

Needless to say, though I learned the tetragrammaton, and all the sephiroth, and all the meanings of the Aleister Crowley tarot deck, it didn't work. Then I discovered that five pints of lager and a good song and dance in a night club worked much better. And I forgot all the esoteric knowledge of the Golden dawn. Save for one thing:

As above, so below.

The ultimate alchemical soundbyte....Continued...

Units of Inheritance.


The classic selfish gene of Dawkin's fame I think, is defunct. As a focus for inheritance it is too small, too narrow. The are of course examples of phenotypic expression that rely on single genes but they are by far in the minority. Genetisists were most puzzled when they conducted experiments that 'knocked out' certain genes, preventing them from expressing, to scrutinize the effects and so ascertain their function. They found out that a lot of the time, nothing happened at all. The body kept on trucking without any major lapses in biochemical function.

Something compensated for these artificially imposed abscences.
...Continued...

Saturday, November 22, 2008

The Extended Phenotype.

Notes on Dawkin's "Extended Phenotype"

...Continued...

Saturday, November 15, 2008

Thirteen ways to fall.

Falling she says. I’m falling.
And in turn I run.
Down the stairs and out the door
Slippers slip-slapping
Shirt-tails flip-flapping.
Crows feet at my eyes and arms outspread.
Like wings.
Heartflutter, mouthsplutter
Invective without directive.
Blood charging through my face.
I’m falling I say.
And sure enough -
I hit the ground full tilt like the world
turned 90 degrees in an instant.

Fallen. Felled. I feel battered, tattered
Beaten, cream-crackered. Harsh breathing.
Focus. There are feet at my face.
Fluffy pink slippers.
You fell she said.
Ouch. I said. You’re observant.
fucker she said.


Banana skin girl big cheesy grin.
All food and sustenance, mead and maul
Big blooming cheeks florid forlorn
Why ? she says.
You fell I said. That’s cheating.
Not the deal we dealt ourselves.

Addressed from on high
Stooden up, dressed down; 

dusted off, turned around.
Sick of being prepositioned,
Conjugated to death
I’m dragged like Peter’s shadow
restitched by Wendy,
flat on my black,
back home.
Where the heart isn’t
(Wasn’t/hasn’t been).
Tense. Nervous. Headache.
She triple locks the doors and windows
Plugs up the plugholes and bricks up the flue.
My father christmas days are over she tells me.

Wednesday, November 12, 2008

Black swan

Notes on the Black Swan by Nassim N. Taleb:
...Continued...