When must science give way to religion?

When I saw an article titled 'Sometimes science must give way to religion' in Nature on August 22, 2012, by Daniel Sarewitz, I had to read it. I am agnostic, and I try as much as I can to keep from attempting to proselyte anyone - through argument or reason (although I often fail at controlling myself). However, titled as it was, I had to read the piece, especially since it'd appeared in a publication I subscribe to for their hard-hitting science news, which I've always approached as Dawkins might: godlessly.

First mistake.

[caption id="attachment_23913" align="aligncenter" width="627"] Dr. Daniel Sarewitz[/caption]

At first, if anything, I hoped the article would treat the entity known as God as simply an encapsulation of the unknown rather than in the form of an icon or elemental to be worshiped. However, the lead paragraph was itself a disappointment - the article was going to be about something else, I understood.

Visitors to the Angkor temples in Cambodia can find themselves overwhelmed with awe. When I visited the temples last month, I found myself pondering the Higgs boson — and the similarities between religion and science.

The awe is architectural. When pilgrims visit a temple built like the Angkor, the same quantum of awe hits them as it does an architect who has entered a Pritzker-prize winning building. But then, this sort of "reasoning", upon closer observation or just an extra second of clear thought, is simply nitpicking. It implies that I'm just pissed that Nature decided to publish an article and disappoint ME. So, I continued to read on.

Until I stumbled upon this:

If you find the idea of a cosmic molasses that imparts mass to invisible elementary particles more convincing than a sea of milk that imparts immortality to the Hindu gods, then surely it’s not because one image is inherently more credible and more ‘scientific’ than the other. Both images sound a bit ridiculous. But people raised to believe that physicists are more reliable than Hindu priests will prefer molasses to milk. For those who cannot follow the mathematics, belief in the Higgs is an act of faith, not of rationality.

For a long time, I have understood that science and religion have a lot in common: they're both frameworks that are understood through some supposedly indisputable facts, the nuclear constituents of the experience born from believing in a world reality that we think is subject to the framework. Yes, circular logic, but how are we to escape it? The presence of only one sentient species on the planet means a uniform biology beyond whose involvement any experience is meaningless.

So how are we to judge which framework is more relevant, more meaningful? To me, subjectively, the answer is to be able to predict what will come, what will happen, what will transpire. For religion, these are eschatological and soteriological considerations. As Hinduism has it: "What goes around comes around!" For science, these are statistical and empirical considerations. Most commonly, scientists will try to spot patterns. If one is found, they will go about pinning the pattern's geometric whims down to mathematical dictations to yield a parametric function. And then, parameters will be pulled out of the future and plugged into the function to deliver a prediction.

Earlier, I would have been dismissive of religion's "ability" to predict the future. Let's face it, some of those predictions and prophecies are too far into the future to be of any use whatsoever, and some other claims are so ad hoc that they sound too convenient to be true... but I digress. Earlier, I would've been dismissive, but after Sarewitz's elucidation of the difference between rationality and faith, I am prompted to explain why, to me, it is more science than religion that makes the cut. Granted, both have their shortcomings: empiricism was smashed by Popper, while statistics and unpredictability are conjugate variables.

(One last point on this matter: If Sarewitz seems to suggest that the metaphorical stands in the way of faith evolving into becoming a conclusion of rationalism, then he also suggests lack of knowledge in one field of science merits a rejection of scientific rationality in that field. Consequently, are we to stand in eternal fear of the incomprehensible, blaming its incomprehensibility on its complexity? He seems to have failed to realize that a submission to the simpler must always be a struggle, never a surrender.)

Sarewitz ploughed on, and drew a comparison more germane and, unfortunately, more personal than logical.

By contrast, the Angkor temples demonstrate how religion can offer an authentic personal encounter with the unknown. At Angkor, the genius of a long-vanished civilization, expressed across the centuries through its monuments, allows visitors to connect with things that lie beyond their knowing in a way that no journalistic or popular scientific account of the Higgs boson can. Put another way, if, in a thousand years, someone visited the ruins of the Large Hadron Collider, where the Higgs experiment was conducted, it is doubtful that they would get from the relics of the detectors and super­conducting magnets a sense of the subatomic world that its scientists say it revealed.

Granted, if a physicist were to visit the ruins of the LHC, he may be able to put two and two together at the sight of the large superconducting magnets, striated with the shadows of brittle wires and their cryostatic sleeves, and guess the nature of the prey. At the same time, an engagement with the unknown at the Angkor Wat (since I haven't been there, I'll extrapolate my experience at the Thillai Nataraja Temple, Chidambaram, South India, from a few years back) requires a need to engage with the unknown. A pilgrim visiting millennia-old temples will feel the same way a physicist does when he enters the chamber that houses the Tevatron! Are they not both pleasurable?

I think now that what Sarewitz is essentially arguing against is the incomparability of pleasures, of sensations, of entire worlds constructed on the basis two very different ideologies, rather requirements, and not against the impracticality of a world ruled by one faith, one science. This aspect came in earlier in this post, too, when I thought I was nitpicking when I surmised Sarewitz's awe upon entering a massive temple was unique: it may have been unique, but only in sensation, not in subject, I realize now.

(Also, I'm sure we have enough of those unknowns scattered around science; that said, Sarewitz seems to suggest that the memorability of his personal experiences in Cambodia are a basis for the foundation of every reader's objective truth. It isn't.)

The author finishes with a mention that he is an atheist. That doesn't give any value to or take away any value from the article. It could have been so were Sarewitz to pit the two worlds against each other, but in his highlighting their unification - their genesis in the human mind, an entity that continues to evade full explicability - he has left much to be desired, much to be yearned for in the form of clarification in the conflict of science with religion. If someday, we were able to fully explain the working and origin of the human mind, and if we find it has a fully scientific basis, then where will that put religion? And vice versa, too.

Until then, science will not give way for religion, nor religion for science, as both seem equipped to explain.

Most of your superheroes are fail.

Superman is not a superhero. He's a normal-sized Kryptonian who, lucky for him, found the planet Earth whose inhabitants' physical powers were inferior to his, whose inhabitants' physical powers were proportionate to the problems they had caused on their home planet. Was Superman a superhero on Krypton? He couldn't have been because in order to have been, the difference between his physical powers and those of his Kryptonian peers would have had to be the same as the difference between his physical powers and that of his Earth-bound peers. And that's not the case.

As an extension of this argument, it can be said that everyone on Earth is a superhero - just that we haven't found a race of beings physically inferior to us.

Another thing about superheroism is a matter of intention. When Superman was forced to leave Krypton, did he chalk out a course for a planet where he knew he could be a superhero? No; he landed up on Earth accidentally. Assuming his story was real and happening in a parallel universe: Superman was lucky. And as far as I'm concerned, intention is important: the end result of all of a superhero's actions ought to have been intended because, otherwise, the uniqueness that comes with being 'super' vanishes. Even theists are unwilling to accept luck for how aimless it tends to be and instead attribute certain events to a supernatural being's intentions.

Just FYI.

Kurt the penguin and Gödel’s incompleteness theorem

Here, let me try and illustrate Gödel’s incompleteness theorems using crude set-mappings.

Gödel’s first incompleteness theorem

Any effectively generated theory capable of expressing elementary arithmetic cannot be both consistent and complete. In particular, for any consistent, effectively generated formal theory that proves certain basic arithmetic truths, there is an arithmetical statement that is true, but not provable in the theory.

Gödel’s second incompleteness theorem

For any formal effectively generated theory T including basic arithmetical truths and also certain truths about formal provability, T includes a statement of its own consistency if and only if T is inconsistent.

*

Kurt the Penguin

Kurt was a talking penguin aware of its special existence.

Rules of the Clock

#1: When the clock behind Kurt struck 12, he'd yell, "I'm a penguin!" [T₁₂, K_P] → t

#2: When the clock didn't strike 1, he'd not yell, "I'm a penguin!" [NT₁, NK_P] → t

#3: When the clock struck 6, he'd yell "I'm a penguin!" twice. [T₆, {K_P, K_P}] → t

#4: When the clock didn't strike 7, he'd not yell, "I'm a penguin!" twice. [NT₇, N{K_P, K_P}] → t

The clock strikes!

Once, on a fine Tuesday, the clock struck 7. [T₇]

Either Kurt didn't yell "I'm a penguin!" twice [N{K_P, K_P}] or Kurt yelled "I'm a penguin!" twice [K_P, K_P].

If Kurt yelled "I'm a penguin!" twice, then Kurt has not broken none of the Rules of the Clock. [T₇, {K_P, K_P} → Nf]

If Kurt didn't yell "I'm a penguin!" twice, then Kurt has broken one of the Rules of the Clock. [T₇, N{K_P, K_P} → f]

What’s up with Kurt?

Therefore, if Kurt always speaks the truth, there are some truths that Kurt doesn’t speak.

And Kurt sometimes speaks the untruth.

Kurtlogic

#1: [T₁₂, K_P] → t

#2: [NT₁, NK_P] → t

#3: [T₆, {K_P, K_P}] → t

#4: [NT₇, N{K_P, K_P}] → t

If Kurt yelled "I'm a penguin!" twice: [T₇, {K_P, K_P} → Nf]

If Kurt didn't yell "I'm a penguin!" twice: [T₇, N{K_P, K_P} → f]

Where,

[T₇, {K_P, K_P} → Nf] ≡ “if Kurt always speaks the truth, there are some truths that Kurt doesn’t speak”

[T₇, N{K_P, K_P} → f] ≡ “Kurt sometimes speaks the untruth”

The futurity of art

I suffer from a terrible lack of insight. Unless I find that something is structured in a way that I can recognize the structure itself, I cannot "read" it (and I don't know how better to put it).

For example, consider web design. Ignoring the programming aspect of it, anything on the web is designed keeping in mind the content that will be contained on the page. If it is purely written content, the primary objective is to provide the reader with an "environment" that contains no distractions irrespective of how many and what kind of widgets feature on the sidebar(s). The font has to be legible and stylistic at the same time, each post should be clearly demarcated from the next, keywords of the post should be visible to the reader as well as to any search engines that might crawl the page.

Keeping all this in mind, any insights I can and will provide will pertain to striking a fine balance between principle and technique, or requirement and style. However, the same cannot be said of art or creative writing because products in such arenas are products despite any disregard they may have expressed toward principle/technique because they are expressions of individual beliefs and tastes. In such cases, what is insight? I cannot say without a perfect knowledge of the subjective perspectives involved, and even then, things like the indeterminacy of translation limit the "quantity" of insight I am in a position to provide.

However, the necessity of insight persists because, in the absence of such information, development on the copy is impossible. In retrospect, this points to a consequential sort of lack-of-originality amongst those who employ another author's mythos to base their own works upon; at least, it is so that there is only any scalar development and no directional development: the plot will move forward in time or in space, but it will not move in any direction in terms of the ideological elements that it espouses.

For example, if I were a fan of Ludlum's Bourne series and if I were to speak about my liking of van Lustbader's continuation of the same series, then I will be not be professing any opinion on the subject of the series' essentially abstract constituents but only on van Lustbader's writing skills. In furtherance of the same line of thought, the creations of Ludlum will go from being fictitious to being meta-fictitious; van Lustbader's books will become individuations of Ludlum's mythos but can never aspire to become one of the mythos itself.

[caption id="" align="aligncenter" width="510" caption="Magritte's 'The Treachery of Images', 1928-1929, questioned the viewer's perception of reality. The picture of the pipe in this painting is only a metaphysical representation of the pipe; the pipe itself is alluded to by the comment at the bottom."][/caption]

However, the more important deduction is that van Lustbader's works now form the basis of other subjective interpretations, thereby ensuring the propagation of the "art of authorship" as such but not of the articulated entity itself. Someday, the memory of Ludlum's works will fade; at the same time, the mortality of such memories will concern only the processes involved in the creation of the mythos (and therefore only the structured) and not the mythos itself. In other words, the mythos will lose its history but retain its form and function, or its futurity, which will persist in the works of van Lustbader.

That is the problem with structure: its cause is pure principle while its effect is pure technique. Such a particular state of being stresses on inductive memory as opposed to requiring deductive memory: insofar as deduction is concerned, the advantage of inheritable logic is present. Although the inductive nature of logic itself can be disputed, the relationships it derives its strength from are fairly ingrained into our minds because they are the foremost tools employed to deconstruct reality. Furthermore, inductive memory is essentially biological. Propagation, therefore, is limited by natural constraints. (This recourse to human memory also implies that the changing face of art is necessary for a healthy futurity.)

The invisible bridge

In a college of journalism, you'd think the blog posts would have to be better researched, better articulated and better delivered. While the latter two are a matter of personal choice, the first - good research - becomes unnecessary. When I was in an engineering institution for my UG, I blogged so frequently and so much that people began to take notice: I was "the blogger". At that point, the things I wrote about had nothing to do with engineering and it is quite a surprise how there are many engineers who'd have trouble understanding Foucault or Nietzsche or Machiavelli. Consequently, I began to research my posts well, ensuring no wrong information got out - directly or as a matter of interpretation.

Here, at ACJ: one misstep and I'm screwed. Both honest and crazy intellectuals will pounce on the slightest of mispronunciations and attempt to secure an argumentative victory. I don't rant out facts and statistics like I used to not because I've forgotten them but because it seems as though just listening to those around me is going to vindicate half the fee-amount I paid. At first, all the hooked-up contentiousness seemed sensational. Now, it seems abjectly pointless. Even in institutions such as this, apparently, there are some people caught between the states of "good journalist" and "bad journalist". I could be one of them, but I must admit hypocrisy - my friends will observe - has not bothered me. Being against my journalistic cause as it may seem to be, I'd clarify that this is a different kind of hypocrisy. Yes, another kind.

Enough of that BS now. Picking up from where I left off: blogging in an encouraging environment seems to be weaker than blogging in a discouraging environment. From an engineering standpoint, that's only sensible: the work done by a system working between two states that have a significant difference in enthalpies is much higher than the work done by a system working between two states that have a small difference in enthalpies. However, that also entails the input to be greater (because a greater "quantity" of work needs to be done to increase the potential energy of the system to so-so much). Similarly, blogging in a discouraging environment is bound to produce greater results if only I'd persist with it (keeping the time-frame finite, the results are only going to be better than what they were during the period of encouragement - which should do).

I love thinking like how an engineer would about things: systematically, without any fuss whatsoever, always knowing full well that if something's wrong, I'm also going to know if or if not it's going to be in my hands to fix it. If it is, then I will. If it isn't, then I won't. The mathematics at work behind all this structure and formality ensures that if things are right in principle, the rest will fall into place. That's the invisible bridge that spans the distance between cause and effect. Science is the grammar when literature's the right reasons, and if you see the problem - any problem - all you have to understand is that you're looking at many invisible bridges waiting to be stepped on.

The invisible bridge

In a college of journalism, you'd think the blog posts would have to be better researched, better articulated and better delivered. While the latter two are a matter of personal choice, the first - good research - becomes unnecessary. When I was in an engineering institution for my UG, I blogged so frequently and so much that people began to take notice: I was "the blogger". At that point, the things I wrote about had nothing to do with engineering and it is quite a surprise how there are many engineers who'd have trouble understanding Foucault or Nietzsche or Machiavelli. Consequently, I began to research my posts well, ensuring no wrong information got out - directly or as a matter of interpretation.

Here, at ACJ: one misstep and I'm screwed. Both honest and crazy intellectuals will pounce on the slightest of mispronunciations and attempt to secure an argumentative victory. I don't rant out facts and statistics like I used to not because I've forgotten them but because it seems as though just listening to those around me is going to vindicate half the fee-amount I paid. At first, all the hooked-up contentiousness seemed sensational. Now, it seems abjectly pointless. Even in institutions such as this, apparently, there are some people caught between the states of "good journalist" and "bad journalist". I could be one of them, but I must admit hypocrisy - my friends will observe - has not bothered me. Being against my journalistic cause as it may seem to be, I'd clarify that this is a different kind of hypocrisy. Yes, another kind.

Enough of that BS now. Picking up from where I left off: blogging in an encouraging environment seems to be weaker than blogging in a discouraging environment. From an engineering standpoint, that's only sensible: the work done by a system working between two states that have a significant difference in enthalpies is much higher than the work done by a system working between two states that have a small difference in enthalpies. However, that also entails the input to be greater (because a greater "quantity" of work needs to be done to increase the potential energy of the system to so-so much). Similarly, blogging in a discouraging environment is bound to produce greater results if only I'd persist with it (keeping the time-frame finite, the results are only going to be better than what they were during the period of encouragement - which should do).

I love thinking like how an engineer would about things: systematically, without any fuss whatsoever, always knowing full well that if something's wrong, I'm also going to know if or if not it's going to be in my hands to fix it. If it is, then I will. If it isn't, then I won't. The mathematics at work behind all this structure and formality ensures that if things are right in principle, the rest will fall into place. That's the invisible bridge that spans the distance between cause and effect. Science is the grammar when literature's the right reasons, and if you see the problem - any problem - all you have to understand is that you're looking at many invisible bridges waiting to be stepped on.

The function of a "unit cell" in the perception lattice

Old post, now archived thus.

--

Beginning from the quantification of perception, we see, hear and feel the objects around us. We understand animation, we derive motion, we negotiate shapes, and we respond to changes. There is nothing to philosophy if only for our ability to become opinionated and a sense of good and bad, whence we also derive judgment and the skills of decision-making. Just as we have left and right to orient us in the physical realm, we have problems and solutions to orient us in the mental realm.

A problem is perceived in its deviation from normality, and in the exposition of abnormality to alert us to one change in particular and in even greater specificity, its incompatibility with normality as we see it. Problems can arise in many forms - as many as we have come to perceive. It is the solution we come to, the one particular decision to alter things as they are and to set them in positions that would resemble in positions they were. We try to reinstate normality as it should be, devoid of anything erroneous, error-prone or error-causing and greatly limitable by one's own actions as they will be.

While walking on a straight road, the need to perceive a change in direction is responded to by taking a perpendicular turn at the most. The sense of left and right, henceforth, seem to more pronounced owing to the presence of an original path that now takes up the first slot in the history of the journey. While travelling on a straight road, without having to take any turns at any points of space and time, the journey consisted of an abode and destination separated by a distance consisting solely of linear displacements; in other words, there was a problem, and there was only one feasible solution.

But once you have taken a turn, say to the right, then you have an angularity associated with your journey: you have reoriented yourself, and analogously, you have altered your direction in favour of a new solution to the same problem. The presence of an original plays an important role in that it gives rise to comparative decision-making, and a variety of opinions with significant variations between them.

The traversal of a straight road gives rise to no such notions because of its inherent inability to deliver comparability. And this is where a theory of nothing, which is only a set of some questions that seem to answer themselves at first, is born. Man’s natural need to quantify the objects, changes and adaptations around him is only understandable. Only with quantification comes perception. This is because, at the most fundamental of levels, the changes around us are used to keep track of time. When an object moves from point A to point B, it marks a change of position and gives rise to displacement. Therefore, the quantification of the phenomena around us empowers us with the tool of recollection, which can be put to immense use when we use comparative decision-making.

The same problem may have given rise to multiple solutions, but when a problem with only one possible solution occurs repeatedly, the problem can be filed away as a one-time occurrence and the solutions that were used previously to tackle it can be thought of as multiple and, therefore, employed again. This concept, in its turn, brings us to the breakdown of time into logically similar categories. When you leave your home for work, the morning may be divided as:

1. You at home,


2. You while driving, and


3. You at work.

By the logical organization of time periods, alternatively ‘time spans’, you find a sense of progress. When the same tasks are performed on a fairly regular basis, the scenario transforms into a routine and the requirement of a logical categorization becomes suppressed by the commoditized grouping of these tasks into blocks characterized by the observation of relatively progressive changes in a parallel walk of life.

For example, when you work at the office, you perform the tasks assigned to you (as conforming to a division of labour). However, the progress is observed in your personal life when you earn money, and in your employer’s business, which seems to want you to work efficiently for it to profit from the collective efficiency. Subsequently, an instance of multiparallelism can be drawn out between all such cases of analogous systems.

In the said cases, quantification has been observed only because it was being looked for; what about when one desires quantification in some other region of perception but is unable to find it? Does that mean that what one perceives is nonexistent? That is absurd because the validity of my perception is then annulled!

In trying to come to terms with change and the relativity of existence itself, we have subconsciously but inevitably generated the need for quantification. But of course, the coexistent fundamentality of the very notion is an excuse enough and has, therefore, qualified itself as a positive sign of progress.

Our understanding of the people and social machinery around us only deepens our faith in the social pedestal upon which we stand, and thereby also increases our commitment to the understanding of other parallel phenomena. So, pre-quantification, we have change, orientation, progress, and some parameters with which we are enabled to measure them. If these parameters were to be absent one at a time, then the ease of quantification becomes reduced, but on the other hand, even the presence of one of these parameters at times becomes a cause for problem. It is the combination of them that may possess any expectations of standing true.

However, when something as abstract as any other fundamental elemental constituent of logic, like logic itself, is subjugated to the detection of such parameters and the establishment of quantified judgment becomes very complicated owing to logically overriding incompatibilities. Therefore, in dealing with such terms with immense applications in reasoning, we have to define the most fundamental of these terms such that those incompatibilities arising out of hierarchal disturbances in the logical structure of reasoning itself are not dealt with.

In other words, we have to define the smallest units of existence which posses the least amount of elemental reasonability and, therefore, can be parallelized to arrive at a logical conclusion to any statement or problem.

The function of a "unit cell" in the perception lattice

Old post, now archived thus.

--

Beginning from the quantification of perception, we see, hear and feel the objects around us. We understand animation, we derive motion, we negotiate shapes, and we respond to changes. There is nothing to philosophy if only for our ability to become opinionated and a sense of good and bad, whence we also derive judgment and the skills of decision-making. Just as we have left and right to orient us in the physical realm, we have problems and solutions to orient us in the mental realm.

A problem is perceived in its deviation from normality, and in the exposition of abnormality to alert us to one change in particular and in even greater specificity, its incompatibility with normality as we see it. Problems can arise in many forms - as many as we have come to perceive. It is the solution we come to, the one particular decision to alter things as they are and to set them in positions that would resemble in positions they were. We try to reinstate normality as it should be, devoid of anything erroneous, error-prone or error-causing and greatly limitable by one's own actions as they will be.

While walking on a straight road, the need to perceive a change in direction is responded to by taking a perpendicular turn at the most. The sense of left and right, henceforth, seem to more pronounced owing to the presence of an original path that now takes up the first slot in the history of the journey. While travelling on a straight road, without having to take any turns at any points of space and time, the journey consisted of an abode and destination separated by a distance consisting solely of linear displacements; in other words, there was a problem, and there was only one feasible solution.

But once you have taken a turn, say to the right, then you have an angularity associated with your journey: you have reoriented yourself, and analogously, you have altered your direction in favour of a new solution to the same problem. The presence of an original plays an important role in that it gives rise to comparative decision-making, and a variety of opinions with significant variations between them.

The traversal of a straight road gives rise to no such notions because of its inherent inability to deliver comparability. And this is where a theory of nothing, which is only a set of some questions that seem to answer themselves at first, is born. Man’s natural need to quantify the objects, changes and adaptations around him is only understandable. Only with quantification comes perception. This is because, at the most fundamental of levels, the changes around us are used to keep track of time. When an object moves from point A to point B, it marks a change of position and gives rise to displacement. Therefore, the quantification of the phenomena around us empowers us with the tool of recollection, which can be put to immense use when we use comparative decision-making.

The same problem may have given rise to multiple solutions, but when a problem with only one possible solution occurs repeatedly, the problem can be filed away as a one-time occurrence and the solutions that were used previously to tackle it can be thought of as multiple and, therefore, employed again. This concept, in its turn, brings us to the breakdown of time into logically similar categories. When you leave your home for work, the morning may be divided as:

1. You at home,


2. You while driving, and


3. You at work.

By the logical organization of time periods, alternatively ‘time spans’, you find a sense of progress. When the same tasks are performed on a fairly regular basis, the scenario transforms into a routine and the requirement of a logical categorization becomes suppressed by the commoditized grouping of these tasks into blocks characterized by the observation of relatively progressive changes in a parallel walk of life.

For example, when you work at the office, you perform the tasks assigned to you (as conforming to a division of labour). However, the progress is observed in your personal life when you earn money, and in your employer’s business, which seems to want you to work efficiently for it to profit from the collective efficiency. Subsequently, an instance of multiparallelism can be drawn out between all such cases of analogous systems.

In the said cases, quantification has been observed only because it was being looked for; what about when one desires quantification in some other region of perception but is unable to find it? Does that mean that what one perceives is nonexistent? That is absurd because the validity of my perception is then annulled!

In trying to come to terms with change and the relativity of existence itself, we have subconsciously but inevitably generated the need for quantification. But of course, the coexistent fundamentality of the very notion is an excuse enough and has, therefore, qualified itself as a positive sign of progress.

Our understanding of the people and social machinery around us only deepens our faith in the social pedestal upon which we stand, and thereby also increases our commitment to the understanding of other parallel phenomena. So, pre-quantification, we have change, orientation, progress, and some parameters with which we are enabled to measure them. If these parameters were to be absent one at a time, then the ease of quantification becomes reduced, but on the other hand, even the presence of one of these parameters at times becomes a cause for problem. It is the combination of them that may possess any expectations of standing true.

However, when something as abstract as any other fundamental elemental constituent of logic, like logic itself, is subjugated to the detection of such parameters and the establishment of quantified judgment becomes very complicated owing to logically overriding incompatibilities. Therefore, in dealing with such terms with immense applications in reasoning, we have to define the most fundamental of these terms such that those incompatibilities arising out of hierarchal disturbances in the logical structure of reasoning itself are not dealt with.

In other words, we have to define the smallest units of existence which posses the least amount of elemental reasonability and, therefore, can be parallelized to arrive at a logical conclusion to any statement or problem.

The function of a "unit cell" in the perception lattice

Old post, now archived thus.

--

Beginning from the quantification of perception, we see, hear and feel the objects around us. We understand animation, we derive motion, we negotiate shapes, and we respond to changes. There is nothing to philosophy if only for our ability to become opinionated and a sense of good and bad, whence we also derive judgment and the skills of decision-making. Just as we have left and right to orient us in the physical realm, we have problems and solutions to orient us in the mental realm.

A problem is perceived in its deviation from normality, and in the exposition of abnormality to alert us to one change in particular and in even greater specificity, its incompatibility with normality as we see it. Problems can arise in many forms - as many as we have come to perceive. It is the solution we come to, the one particular decision to alter things as they are and to set them in positions that would resemble in positions they were. We try to reinstate normality as it should be, devoid of anything erroneous, error-prone or error-causing and greatly limitable by one's own actions as they will be.

While walking on a straight road, the need to perceive a change in direction is responded to by taking a perpendicular turn at the most. The sense of left and right, henceforth, seem to more pronounced owing to the presence of an original path that now takes up the first slot in the history of the journey. While travelling on a straight road, without having to take any turns at any points of space and time, the journey consisted of an abode and destination separated by a distance consisting solely of linear displacements; in other words, there was a problem, and there was only one feasible solution.

But once you have taken a turn, say to the right, then you have an angularity associated with your journey: you have reoriented yourself, and analogously, you have altered your direction in favour of a new solution to the same problem. The presence of an original plays an important role in that it gives rise to comparative decision-making, and a variety of opinions with significant variations between them.

The traversal of a straight road gives rise to no such notions because of its inherent inability to deliver comparability. And this is where a theory of nothing, which is only a set of some questions that seem to answer themselves at first, is born. Man’s natural need to quantify the objects, changes and adaptations around him is only understandable. Only with quantification comes perception. This is because, at the most fundamental of levels, the changes around us are used to keep track of time. When an object moves from point A to point B, it marks a change of position and gives rise to displacement. Therefore, the quantification of the phenomena around us empowers us with the tool of recollection, which can be put to immense use when we use comparative decision-making.

The same problem may have given rise to multiple solutions, but when a problem with only one possible solution occurs repeatedly, the problem can be filed away as a one-time occurrence and the solutions that were used previously to tackle it can be thought of as multiple and, therefore, employed again. This concept, in its turn, brings us to the breakdown of time into logically similar categories. When you leave your home for work, the morning may be divided as:

1. You at home,


2. You while driving, and


3. You at work.

By the logical organization of time periods, alternatively ‘time spans’, you find a sense of progress. When the same tasks are performed on a fairly regular basis, the scenario transforms into a routine and the requirement of a logical categorization becomes suppressed by the commoditized grouping of these tasks into blocks characterized by the observation of relatively progressive changes in a parallel walk of life.

For example, when you work at the office, you perform the tasks assigned to you (as conforming to a division of labour). However, the progress is observed in your personal life when you earn money, and in your employer’s business, which seems to want you to work efficiently for it to profit from the collective efficiency. Subsequently, an instance of multiparallelism can be drawn out between all such cases of analogous systems.

In the said cases, quantification has been observed only because it was being looked for; what about when one desires quantification in some other region of perception but is unable to find it? Does that mean that what one perceives is nonexistent? That is absurd because the validity of my perception is then annulled!

In trying to come to terms with change and the relativity of existence itself, we have subconsciously but inevitably generated the need for quantification. But of course, the coexistent fundamentality of the very notion is an excuse enough and has, therefore, qualified itself as a positive sign of progress.

Our understanding of the people and social machinery around us only deepens our faith in the social pedestal upon which we stand, and thereby also increases our commitment to the understanding of other parallel phenomena. So, pre-quantification, we have change, orientation, progress, and some parameters with which we are enabled to measure them. If these parameters were to be absent one at a time, then the ease of quantification becomes reduced, but on the other hand, even the presence of one of these parameters at times becomes a cause for problem. It is the combination of them that may possess any expectations of standing true.

However, when something as abstract as any other fundamental elemental constituent of logic, like logic itself, is subjugated to the detection of such parameters and the establishment of quantified judgment becomes very complicated owing to logically overriding incompatibilities. Therefore, in dealing with such terms with immense applications in reasoning, we have to define the most fundamental of these terms such that those incompatibilities arising out of hierarchal disturbances in the logical structure of reasoning itself are not dealt with.

In other words, we have to define the smallest units of existence which posses the least amount of elemental reasonability and, therefore, can be parallelized to arrive at a logical conclusion to any statement or problem.

Exploring sentence structures, induction, and emphasis

Key

• “→” indicates first-level nesting (i.e., child), “→→” indicates second-level nesting (i.e., grandchild), and so on


• Each phrase is a semantic child only of the previously latest parent


• Two or more phrases are siblings if and only if at least one of them has a child phrase


• In the notation “n/state”, “n” is the level assigner and “state” is the state-marker


• In the notation “state/n”, “n” is the level to which the “state” corresponds

Analysis

“How is one difference of opinion sufficient to qualify the truth of a rift in the Anna Hazare camp—between Hegde and Hazare himself—in the eyes of the media?”

How is
1→one difference
2→→of opinion
3→sufficient
4→→to qualify
5→→the truth
6→→→of a rift
7→→→in the Anna Hazare camp
8→→→→between Hegde and Hazare himself
9→→→in the eyes of the media?

In the above example,

• 1 and 3 are siblings


• 2 is the child of 1


• 4 to 5 is a passive transition


• 6 to 7 is a passive transition


• 6→7 is the child of 4→5 is the child of 3


• 8 is the child of 7


• 7 and 9 are siblings

Thus,

1/origin → _child → sibling/1 → 2/origin → 3/child → _grandchild → sibling/3

Notes on the example

Reduction of complexity The most deeply nested child will receive the least emphasis. Consequently, more important points have to be nested earlier on. If one complex idea is to be delivered, it would be wiser to break the sentences down: that way, deeply-nested child phrases are eliminated and the subject is grasped easily. However, this breakdown increases the amount of physical space necessary to hold the text.

Siblings limit Sentence lengths are harder to analyse because different people have different attention spans, and when the payoff involved is space, passive transitions can be employed to keep from creating more children or more siblings. At the same time, it is advisable to limit the number of siblings in each sentence to two.

Fragmentation If a child phrase is being included, the norm is to fit it into the sentence between two commas or two M-dashes. This is also the reason commas are powerful because they induce a pause in the reader’s flow, as if breaking his/her speed and having him/her scrutinize the child phrase. At the same time, inserting too many such breaks makes the text read fragmented, and fragmented texts make for frustrating reading.

Transitive phrases Consider the previous sentence: “At the same time, inserting too many such breaks makes the text read fragmented, and fragmented texts make for frustrating reading.” In this case, the comma is used for a different purpose:

1/origin → 2/origin → 3/origin

Essentially, the phrase “At the same time” is used to conduct a transition from the previous sentence to the current one and so the first comma marks the end of the transition and the beginning of the body. Similarly, the insertion “, and” indicates a fusing of the current sentence—the body—and “fragmented texts make for frustrating reading.” In fact, in order to broaden the emphasis on the idea, “, and” can be removed and substituted with a period.

Exploring sentence structures, induction, and emphasis

Key

• “→” indicates first-level nesting (i.e., child), “→→” indicates second-level nesting (i.e., grandchild), and so on


• Each phrase is a semantic child only of the previously latest parent


• Two or more phrases are siblings if and only if at least one of them has a child phrase


• In the notation “n/state”, “n” is the level assigner and “state” is the state-marker


• In the notation “state/n”, “n” is the level to which the “state” corresponds

Analysis

“How is one difference of opinion sufficient to qualify the truth of a rift in the Anna Hazare camp—between Hegde and Hazare himself—in the eyes of the media?”

How is
1→one difference
2→→of opinion
3→sufficient
4→→to qualify
5→→the truth
6→→→of a rift
7→→→in the Anna Hazare camp
8→→→→between Hegde and Hazare himself
9→→→in the eyes of the media?

In the above example,

• 1 and 3 are siblings


• 2 is the child of 1


• 4 to 5 is a passive transition


• 6 to 7 is a passive transition


• 6→7 is the child of 4→5 is the child of 3


• 8 is the child of 7


• 7 and 9 are siblings

Thus,

1/origin → _child → sibling/1 → 2/origin → 3/child → _grandchild → sibling/3

Notes on the example

Reduction of complexity The most deeply nested child will receive the least emphasis. Consequently, more important points have to be nested earlier on. If one complex idea is to be delivered, it would be wiser to break the sentences down: that way, deeply-nested child phrases are eliminated and the subject is grasped easily. However, this breakdown increases the amount of physical space necessary to hold the text.

Siblings limit Sentence lengths are harder to analyse because different people have different attention spans, and when the payoff involved is space, passive transitions can be employed to keep from creating more children or more siblings. At the same time, it is advisable to limit the number of siblings in each sentence to two.

Fragmentation If a child phrase is being included, the norm is to fit it into the sentence between two commas or two M-dashes. This is also the reason commas are powerful because they induce a pause in the reader’s flow, as if breaking his/her speed and having him/her scrutinize the child phrase. At the same time, inserting too many such breaks makes the text read fragmented, and fragmented texts make for frustrating reading.

Transitive phrases Consider the previous sentence: “At the same time, inserting too many such breaks makes the text read fragmented, and fragmented texts make for frustrating reading.” In this case, the comma is used for a different purpose:

1/origin → 2/origin → 3/origin

Essentially, the phrase “At the same time” is used to conduct a transition from the previous sentence to the current one and so the first comma marks the end of the transition and the beginning of the body. Similarly, the insertion “, and” indicates a fusing of the current sentence—the body—and “fragmented texts make for frustrating reading.” In fact, in order to broaden the emphasis on the idea, “, and” can be removed and substituted with a period.

Philosophy and the scientific method

Philosophy's widely been called the classification of thoughts; although that seems like a simple definition, those requirements in place to ensure that it is also accessible to the principles of scientific enquiry make it a daunting and esoteric subject to pursue. While intriguing challenges central to the human nature are presented in no small numbers along the way, the latter quality has prevented it from embraced by the masses as another context within which to investigate the Universe.

At the core of the philosophical argument lies its ability to define principles—any principles—which are, in turn, what enable the classification of thoughts. Would that the Universe contained all of its information as a garble of colours and noise, the process of learning would've been substituted by the process of discovery entirely. However, the case has been demonstrably polar: there are patterns everywhere, patterns that show a remarkable similitude to each other in that they are all principled, in that they all display characteristics of endurance and not grant any incidents of epistemological construction the misfortune of stagnation as structures of the past.This is one of the foremost reasons that inquiry into these matters has proved crucial for social, economic and political progress irrespective of "germane concerns" such as ethnicity, culture or racial history.

In order to both discover and establish (or, recognise and understand) such a replicable ontology, an underlying experimental process is necessary that abides by the principles of scientific investigation and, essentially, empiricism so as to prevent the case of reductio ad absurdum as well as to be able to verify the credibility of any hypothesis without interfering with its functions.

Philosophy and the scientific method

Philosophy's widely been called the classification of thoughts; although that seems like a simple definition, those requirements in place to ensure that it is also accessible to the principles of scientific enquiry make it a daunting and esoteric subject to pursue. While intriguing challenges central to the human nature are presented in no small numbers along the way, the latter quality has prevented it from embraced by the masses as another context within which to investigate the Universe.

At the core of the philosophical argument lies its ability to define principles—any principles—which are, in turn, what enable the classification of thoughts. Would that the Universe contained all of its information as a garble of colours and noise, the process of learning would've been substituted by the process of discovery entirely. However, the case has been demonstrably polar: there are patterns everywhere, patterns that show a remarkable similitude to each other in that they are all principled, in that they all display characteristics of endurance and not grant any incidents of epistemological construction the misfortune of stagnation as structures of the past.This is one of the foremost reasons that inquiry into these matters has proved crucial for social, economic and political progress irrespective of "germane concerns" such as ethnicity, culture or racial history.

In order to both discover and establish (or, recognise and understand) such a replicable ontology, an underlying experimental process is necessary that abides by the principles of scientific investigation and, essentially, empiricism so as to prevent the case of reductio ad absurdum as well as to be able to verify the credibility of any hypothesis without interfering with its functions.

What remains to be thought

Is the pursuit of the truth an altruistic objective?— Rand

Does there exist meaning outside of what is constructed through experience—i.e., through man's interaction with reality?

Id est:

Does there exist any truth outside of what is relevant in reality?— constructivism

How is relevance established?

What is the role of verification in establishing relevance?— Ayer

What are the necessary rules/methodologies/procedures that must be followed to conclusively 'verify something?— Popper

What remains to be thought

Is the pursuit of the truth an altruistic objective?— Rand

Does there exist meaning outside of what is constructed through experience—i.e., through man's interaction with reality?

Id est:

Does there exist any truth outside of what is relevant in reality?— constructivism

How is relevance established?

What is the role of verification in establishing relevance?— Ayer

What are the necessary rules/methodologies/procedures that must be followed to conclusively 'verify something?— Popper

Language, truth and knowledge

It would prove futile to address every incidence of curiosity by seeking out the requisite "knowledge" that constitutes the "knowable" volume of the subject through an isolationist perspective; it is also obviously futile to address the content in its entirety lest the curiosity—essentially the context within which any epistemological exegesis becomes meaningful—stands overwhelmed. If I were to associate any semantic weight with the idea of justice, I would ask: where does the knowledge, "the truth", of law arise from, what is the need that, in the eyes of those who partake of its provisions, it assesses, and what is the modality within which it finds realization? Could there exist an epistemological variable the evaluation of which represents a (quantitative or qualitative) difference between the cognitive value of a statement of truth and that of a statement of law, thereby, say, establishing the origin of the truth of law as being independent of the same social urges that are the domain (of applicability) of the sanctions it backs?

Language, truth and knowledge

It would prove futile to address every incidence of curiosity by seeking out the requisite "knowledge" that constitutes the "knowable" volume of the subject through an isolationist perspective; it is also obviously futile to address the content in its entirety lest the curiosity—essentially the context within which any epistemological exegesis becomes meaningful—stands overwhelmed. If I were to associate any semantic weight with the idea of justice, I would ask: where does the knowledge, "the truth", of law arise from, what is the need that, in the eyes of those who partake of its provisions, it assesses, and what is the modality within which it finds realization? Could there exist an epistemological variable the evaluation of which represents a (quantitative or qualitative) difference between the cognitive value of a statement of truth and that of a statement of law, thereby, say, establishing the origin of the truth of law as being independent of the same social urges that are the domain (of applicability) of the sanctions it backs?

Das Opfer des schwarzen Blutes

Denken Sie nicht über die Wahrheit, mein Kind,
Die Dunkelheit ist notwendig für unsere Augen!
Wo sind wir zu gehen, wenn wir nicht wissen, Krieg?
Wo können wir gehen, wenn es keine Straßen?

Lass dich nicht von den Geräuschen, Kind, Angst
Halten Sie alle Ihre Ängste auslaufen
In den Frauen, die Träume haben für Kinder,
In die Herzen der Unwissenden und Ohren.

Hurt sich selbst und lassen den Blutfluss, Kind,
Weil sie werden für immer die dummen Affen!
Die Wissenschaften sind Sie wissen Geheimnisse
Welche von ihren kleinen Herzen verschwinden!

Leg deinen Kopf auf meinen Schoß und weinen, Kind,
Damit die Menschen können niemals lernen,
Von Ihrem Opfer, das notwendig ist für die Zukunft,
Die Lehren, die Sie für heute abend sterben müssen!

*

Translation

The sacrifice of black blood

Do not think about the truth, my child,
The darkness is necessary for our eyes!
Where do we go when we know not war?
Where can we go if there are no roads?

Do not fear the noise, child,
Leave behind all your fears
For women who have dreams for children,
To spill into the hearts of the ignorant and ears.

Hurt yourself and let the blood flow, child,
Because they will forever be the silly monkeys!
The science you now know are the secrets
Which must disappear from their little hearts!

Lay your head on my lap and cry, child,
So that people may never learn
From your sacrifice, that is necessary for the future,
The lessons that you have to die for tonight!

Das Opfer des schwarzen Blutes

Denken Sie nicht über die Wahrheit, mein Kind,
Die Dunkelheit ist notwendig für unsere Augen!
Wo sind wir zu gehen, wenn wir nicht wissen, Krieg?
Wo können wir gehen, wenn es keine Straßen?

Lass dich nicht von den Geräuschen, Kind, Angst
Halten Sie alle Ihre Ängste auslaufen
In den Frauen, die Träume haben für Kinder,
In die Herzen der Unwissenden und Ohren.

Hurt sich selbst und lassen den Blutfluss, Kind,
Weil sie werden für immer die dummen Affen!
Die Wissenschaften sind Sie wissen Geheimnisse
Welche von ihren kleinen Herzen verschwinden!

Leg deinen Kopf auf meinen Schoß und weinen, Kind,
Damit die Menschen können niemals lernen,
Von Ihrem Opfer, das notwendig ist für die Zukunft,
Die Lehren, die Sie für heute abend sterben müssen!

*

Translation

The sacrifice of black blood

Do not think about the truth, my child,
The darkness is necessary for our eyes!
Where do we go when we know not war?
Where can we go if there are no roads?

Do not fear the noise, child,
Leave behind all your fears
For women who have dreams for children,
To spill into the hearts of the ignorant and ears.

Hurt yourself and let the blood flow, child,
Because they will forever be the silly monkeys!
The science you now know are the secrets
Which must disappear from their little hearts!

Lay your head on my lap and cry, child,
So that people may never learn
From your sacrifice, that is necessary for the future,
The lessons that you have to die for tonight!

On investigative journalism

Investigative journalism—investigations are initiated as a matter of personal conviction—responsible exercising of personal judgment required—practice of zero-interference methodologies—participation necessitates agreement with and understanding of policies that define the need—knowledge of what is right, what is wrong—is personal involvement necessary?—mandatory elimination of speculative convictions—investigation must not NECESSITATE the investigation

*

Scenario I

[caption id="attachment_3653" align="aligncenter" width="734" caption="Scenario I - Investigation timeline vs. probability of occurrence of event vs. timeline of event"][/caption]

Conclusion of phase 5 of investigation: direct reporting

Conclusion of phase 4 of investigation: reporting predictions

Conclusion of phase 3 of investigation: investigative reporting

*

Scenario II

[caption id="attachment_3654" align="aligncenter" width="734" caption="Scenario II - Probability of occurrence of event vs. timeline of event"][/caption]

Dotted line: projected probability of event as a result of interferential investigation

*

Scenario III

[caption id="attachment_3655" align="aligncenter" width="734" caption="Scenario III - Probability of occurrence of event vs. timeline of event"][/caption]

Dotted line A: projected, and increased, probability of event as a result of interferential investigation

Dotted line B: projected, and decreased, probability of event as a result of interferential investigation

*

Conference of ethical value—moral value of personal judgment—what if P(ethical val. of B > ethical val. of A) = P(ethical val. of A > ethical val. of B)?—non-interferential investigation takes precedence takes overall precedence when ethical values of A and B are fuzzy—does lesser fuzziness validate interference?