Triality, Simpler Times, Checky Shores, and Learning Machines

Triality, Simpler Times, Checky Shores, and Learning Machines L. Edgar Otto Jan. 20/21, 2012

Jesse Prinz has an article on Newscientist I cannot access: But systems of learning as philosophy and cosmology I have given a continuum all of its own called- Neotericontinuum . This is all I can see of the newscientist pre-comments to the link:

'Human beings are learning machines,' says philosopher
INTERVIEW: 12:00 20 January 2012
Prevailing wisdom holds that we are born with an innate understanding of the world. No, argues Jesse Prinz: we learn a lot of it for ourselves
This inspired parts of the first two of a planned series of poems called The Learning Machine as science sites often do- and Ron Kollman, a Christian in the coffee shop and the idea of Beasts and Monsters, and a deeper understanding of the philosophy of science of Peter Rowlands in regards to uniqueness and quantum theory where to him physics determines the mathematics. Also my struggles of my roommate Erik- the artist I illustrate here with often- in his struggle with internal Beasts caught between the Lutherans and the Buddhists in his attempts as self healing.

The Learning Machine (I) L. Edgar Otto 01-20-12

The woodland sunflowers thrive in their season
by the river in profusion on the old growth forest floor.

They vanish sometimes forever their reflection at one
with the world living & learning on the short & long
run their once and only allotted days unique their carefree
count of petals & hours, uprooting floods & withering droughts.

The discovery of the last woodland sunflower becomes my
obsession, for she is the first, born again with Love,
the one & only true center of our world. The outside, other parts
beyond us invisible, walled off, no threat in time or space
to the totality of our destiny & privacy.

Neither of us were fit, without wounds, & yet our
memories of them so remote in the past & we did
not think about how far our universe creating kisses
could ever be an end of worlds into the future. Only
the gods have a long memory, but they were so far away
to care or see our rapid heartbeats.

Such love colours our world, buttercup golden chins,
daisy chains & the double explosion of dandelions
before they go to seed & our whispering sweet nothing
breaths launch them too soon into the boundless wind.

We count the petals - She loves me, she loves me not-
to some uncertain end. Not satisfied with what
by chance we think or want of answers our timeless &
eternal bond not broken reaches for another flower
so the count begins anew again.

* * *

The Learning Machine (II)

Some of us cannot out run the Beast. We can only
leap out of the deeps of his dark waters only to
fall back again in an exhausting game of out of reach.

He slows us all down from our climbing to shore, makes us
choose the lesser evil so beaching us en masse, growing limbs
walking tall against the natural heavier weight of gravity
our struggle promises we can reach the moon & stars.

His the treacle, molasses slow, that gives us mass
in the spiral shelled diffuse flesh protected in
the greater freedom in all directions in the water &
to the four corners of the Ocean. We the scurriers &
self-determining choosers of our paths,
makers of light & warning colors to our own kind.

He, our self & unseen ever present center draws
us down indirectly into the maelstrom we
swim against to tack our fins and sails at right
angles taking from our strength and time as we
backtrack with no clues to which was time's currents flow,
lost in our taking chances, safety in circles on the waves,
trajectories in fountain cannon spewing jets or of water spouts &
our promiscous global cluster bonds save by numbers
in the parabolic herd.

Left alone we try to keep some balance, walk the sagging
tightrope in the strait line & while our freedom is boundless
it is empty in all but the fall in whose direction, like in dreams
we may wake up- or hope there is the safety net, we who spend so
much time lazy like the ancient lizards in the sun.

Into his locker realm at the bottoms of the sea &
center of the moral maze or mysterious labyrinth we
navigate by the sound if we lose one handed touch by
running into or beating our heads into a wall, seeing but
so far our lonely turns and twists.

We also consume the memories of others voraciously or
in ritual communions of sacrifice, so many flat worms taught
to seek & divine our livers. We reach too high in the Mercuric
effervescence of our comment Vulcan rise, blinded by the other Sun,
closer our flying fish wax wings.

* * * *

And a video of a primitive experiment called Triality or Quarks in a Spectral Field.

* * * * *

Lubos,


I wonder if in some sense string theory once grounded (say limiting the number of possible vacua) surpasses quantum theory or is another deeper variation. Maybe this is but a philosophic stance- do you think the physics is primary that directs our math or the mathematics is primary? But your statement that the variations are not incompatible is a great step in unification.


The PeSla

* *
To Riofrio's blog:

I am sorry to hear that our world is not safe for enquiry or that anyone would be excluded from our right to learn and know.

Why in a peaceful world would Iran or anyone need nukes that take away from the mouths of its people- the ancient states should know this better than the West.

And Carl, I get your point but there are no necessary realities beyond our common sense- I do not think we can leave Iran to its own isolated Korean state of hell and starvation if it threatens to promote proliferation to say Venezuela.