He enjoys dance, bikes, transpersonal psychology, systems, metaphor, tinkering, meditation, & free association.
@levity on Twitter
RT @mischakrilov: I'm listening to a machine-generated threnody for billions of fallen veteran combat robot interstellar probes made of pap…
RT @flantz: @sintecta Now you know what it's like to be whole-heartedly and enthusiastically in the thrall of an arbitrary value function!
RT @flantz: My new game, in which you play an AI who makes paperclips: https://t.co/KAEIvW6usc https://t.co/AjItc7DhX1
It is the landscape of your own strengths that matters. And you can set your own, completely human pace through it.The Calculus of Grit
Invention, it must be humbly admitted, does not consist in creating out of void but out of chaos.The Ecstasy of Influence
That girl had been trying to cope with a theophany; she had looked at me and seen a god. A particular god.Dancing With the Gods
I can’t tell you how it feels to see the world as a torrent of bright sparks rushing towards darkness, but that’s the gift of my vision.Skull Cults: The Only Sound Foundation for a Modern Economic Geography
You must depend uponHow To Be a Poet
affection, reading, knowledge,
skill—more of each
than you have—inspiration,
work, growing older, patience,
for patience joins time
I'm an infant. A little one. Blathering and making noises. Infatuated with all the simple things. Because none of them are really simple. All endlessly unfold into more and more detail, each with its own patterns & patterns of patterns.
In this vividly unpetalling dance, one has the sense of being totally enmeshed in a performance with infinitely many curtains behind which are waiting, in the wings, infinitely many as-yet unknown performers. This astonishment is actually, truly always present; it is the bedrock, the gaping void beneath the precipice, the space between thoughts. It waits and waits and hears in the pumping of each heart the echo of the dream it is birthing into a future.
Off its myriad facets sliding into shadow we tumble and play, tumble and play on, play harder, play for the sake of virtuosity, for freedom, for release from pain, for communion with that which was forgotten, that which was so, so loved and truly never lost-- we ask: will you be here with me? will you be here with me? will you be here with me? So much beauty is here in every moment, and I am dying! Do not forget me! Be with me!
Ages of yearning forged into a laser beam, a blinding wave that shouts "me", sweeping across light-eons of space, reshaping it in our image...
That space--one space--
our one space which is empty and yet full--
a full, warm embrace