Have you ever been confronted with one of those pivotal moments in time where you sincerely did not know if telling the truth was the right thing to do?
I loved Lisa.
We had met at Arizona State University, where I was taking the last in my General Education requirements as I was being approved for an undergraduate degree program in Computer Science Engineering.
Usually, when I walked into a new situation or class, I had a tendency to scope out the situation and find the most attractive women and find a seat within chatting distance.
But on the first day of my Humanities class at ASU, I arrived about five minutes late, and with 140 people in this large class that I had poorly planned the jog across campus to get to, it was all I could do to find the single seat remaining in this large class.
I had not missed anything, the professor took my late arrival in stride, and after about 20 minutes of lecturing what Humanities was and was not, we were tasked with introducing ourselves to our surrounding classmates.
It was one of those weird rare instances I didn’t notice a woman right away.
But right off the bat, in the five minutes we had been given to introduce ourselves, Lisa and I hit it off.
It was funny, really, as another younger ‘kid’ was interested in her as well, but I had had a couple years to rebuild my confidence after my last divorce and Lisa and I naturally fit effortlessly conversationally.
To describe Lisa – she’s 5’7″ tall, longer blonde hair, blue eyes, and at the time was about 125 pounds – and in very good shape.
And the energy between us – it was refreshing.
And this was one of those rare times a woman asked me out.
As we walked out of class, another extremely attractive woman I had seen in the corner of my eye walked up to Lisa – a woman by the name of JJ – and introduced herself to both of us.
Lisa and JJ were both in a sorority, the Gamma Phi Betas, and Lisa later told me that JJ had been her roommate for a brief period of time.
“Oh yeah?,” I said, “I’m in the Pi Kappa Alpha house,” I said proudly.
The tension was palatable between the two of them, at this point, as JJ openly flirted with me as she left.
Lisa simmered a little.
But it inspired Lisa to ask me out, a small sorority gathering that Friday.
I kept my cool on the exterior but it was everything I could to do contain my enthusiasm inside as I said yes.
“Bring a friend,” she said, “I’ll set him up”
“JJ,” I asked.
“No, JJ’s not an active anymore, she’s cute too though, don’t worry,” she said.
That evening, I went back to the fraternity, where I invited my new roommate – Stephen Lishnoff – to the gathering. Steve was a dog by any definition of the word and would jump on anything with a vagina, so it was like giving candy to a baby as he didn’t even think twice about joining.
The week dragged on. Humanities met on Monday and Wednesday, where Lisa again sat behind me, and the flirtation continued, where she tapped me on the shoulder and said “I love your legs”.
It was nice.
Not having to be the one indicating interest for a change, and not having to deal with the latent fear of rejection that those indications might carry with them.
Friday came, and the sorority gathering was at a local club, Senor Frogs, and turned out to be a bust. Sorority parties pale in comparison to Fraternity parties, and as I quickly learned are usually poorly organized for too many reasons to list, and this was no exception.
So Me, Steve, Lisa, and the girl Lisa had brought along – a cute and petite redhead – took off from the nightclub, and went back to the fraternity and kicked back and drank all night.
The girls left – without anything really happening – at around midnight despite Steve and I’s best efforts.
The next week, Lisa was a little cold for some reason.
I’d thought the night went well and we’d really hit it off, but Lisa’s standoffish attitude suggested my impression was altogether different. So Monday comes and goes, and Lisa is avoiding me and disappears after class.
Wednesday comes along. And the same thing starts to happen.
She’s barely making eye contact as I walk in the door, when I spot a fellow pledge sitting next to her and briefly explain why he needs to move – to which he begrudgingly does saying “You owe me”.
Lisa is stand offish and we communicate little in the class at first.
And then. On the way out. She stops in front of me, leans up – kisses me, and says “Can you meet me in the North Parking lot across the street from your house when you get done with class today?”
“About 12:30,” I said.
Something was up, I didn’t know what it could be, but my curiosity was raging.
As I walked up, Lisa’s sitting on the hood of her car. It’s a 1962 Corvair, easily the most unusual cars I had ever seen a woman drive.
“Are you going to explain to me what’s goin on with you?,” I demanded.
It was too early in any relationship for drama.
“I like you,” she said.
“I like you too,” I responded.
“The other night, at your place, I wanted to stay the night, but I just want you to know what I do for a living,” she said.
I was perfectly clueless and indicated so.
“I’m a nude dancer, that’s the only way I can afford ASU,” she said.
She was clearly expecting the worst from me.
But I laughed.
And she responded poorly to my laugh not understanding it at first.
“Look, Lisa, you’re a cool girl and my last relationship was with a sexually uptight woman. This. You. Are refreshing. Why would I have a problem with it?,” she said.
She breathed a sigh of relief, and hugged me and gave me a huge kiss I remember to this day.
“Well. I have to leave, I am off to work,” she said.
As it turned out, Lisa was making in between $500 to $1000 a day doing what she was doing. Our relationship was physically and sexually liberating to me, and as our relationship moved forward she got tired of the abusive management where she worked and went to go work at an upscale topless club where she didn’t make quite as much as she was dancing nude, but still a highly respectable $300 to $500 a day for 4 to 6 hours of dancing.
JJ, her sorority sister, wound up asking me out through my roommate – Steve Lishnoff – not long after Lisa and I were officially boyfriend/girlfriend. Steve was interested in JJ’s roommate, and begged me to say yes to inviting the girls over when I did – and made an excuse with Lisa to disappear for an evening.
It was difficult for me at first – lying. But for me – rationally – while JJ was highly attractive, she lacked substance, which Lisa had. But I was also there to support my new friends aka my fraternity brothers, so I figured what can the harm be in this?
So while the four of us watched a movie in my room at the fraternity, Steve started mackin on JJ’s roommate, and JJ kissed me, but it felt like I was kissing a dead fish. That was the first and last kiss I had with her.
We all drank, heavily, and when JJ tried getting on top of me and unbuckling my pants, I pushed her off.
It was weird. I just flat out wasn’t interested. So she got up and dismissed herself to the restroom.
Ten minutes went by. Twenty. Thirty when JJ’s roommate gets up for air from whatever they were doing under the covers – where she says “Where’s JJ?”
“I thought she left,” I said.
“She wouldn’t leave without me,” she said, and walked outside with Steve in tow.
About 5 minutes later, Steve returns, laughing, and says “JJ’s fucking your big brother”
In a fraternity, when you rush it – you’re called a pledge for a semester, and you typically select a ‘big brother” who is supposed to act like a mentor and friend. I was a little older than most of the other pledges – at 23 – when I rushed the Pi Kappa Alpha fraternity, and made the mistake of choosing Mike Rossi – one of the older house members who was a tad taller than me. One of the rare guys in the house I thought I could look up to.
But the guy turned out to be a prick.
But in this case. He saved me from a really poor date I didn’t really want to be on to begin with.
The next day, Mike is pounding on my door yelling “Your girl pissed my fucking bed!”
Steve and I bolted up, and I was in tears laughing.
“Not my girl, Mike, she’s all yours buddy,” I said, laughing.
“Sure it’s not a wet spot,” Steve said as we walked into his room.
It wasn’t a wet spot.
And it wasn’t a light drizzle either.
She’d unleashed a good pitcher of piss on his bed, and his room stunk to high heaven.
JJ meanwhile was LONG gone.
Lisa learned about JJ through Steve, and was hurt at first, but it had become clear by the time it came out that Steve had been doing his best to try to break Lisa and I up. And when I say tried. He had thrown the kitchen sink at her and me, subversively, but none of it worked.
Over the years, Lisa and I grew closer and got married.
But I will be the first to admit I had little if any self control when an attractive woman approached me. But being sincere, Lisa instigated most of it as I struggled emotionally with my own values.
One time, Lisa asked me to come into her work, a topless cabaret by the name of Tiffany’s – when she had Chrissy, her really wild and attractive coworker dance for me, to which Chrissy brings me in a corner, informs me that her and her husband would like to have a four way with Lisa and I, and then licks my thumb and slides her panties to the side and shoves my thumb inside her pussy and proceeds to slide up and down on it.
I look over, and Lisa has a smile on her face.
Not long after we got married, Lisa had two of her attractive stripper friends move in with us in my four bedroom house.
One day Lisa told me to come home early for a surprise, when the three of them are relaxing by the pool without bathing suits on.
The girls had a predictable schedule, which usually had me walking around the house comfortably nude, when I was making lunch on a Saturday and out struts Elea, one of two roommates, without clothes as well.
Despite all this, I will full admit I was sexually frustrated and so focused on ‘one man for one woman’ relationships, that for every opportunity Lisa presented, I declined like a complete idiot.
One evening, on my birthday, Lisa was bound and intent on hooking me up in a foursome with Elea, Melissa, and herself – so we all went to a swinger’s club. I had EVERY intention of having sex with all of them.
Without getting into details, let me just say it didn’t happen.
A girl I knew who was a friend of mine – Christina Monde came over while I was swimming au natural in the backyard pool.
Lisa sent her back there.
To say I was in a self imposed way sexually frustrated would be an understatement. God knows I wanted to say yes, but something deep down inside of me resisted every opportunity Lisa presented.
This isn’t to say I didn’t pursue opportunities outside of my relationship with Lisa.
I did. On numerous occasions. And had made extended efforts for years to keep those to myself.
But ultimately, I finally did tell her.
I had been having internal pressure and guilt the likes of a Volcano about to erupt which solicited the confession…
And – in hindsight I recognize that I did the wrong thing by telling Lisa the truth.
I have since learned that sometimes, it’s better to tell people – and the ones I love – what they want to hear.
Whether it’s telling them everything’s going to be ok when you know damn well things aren’t ok. Or it’s knowing I should have kept quiet about my moment of humanity and selfishness in the affairs which ultimately resulted in a breakup of the marriage.
Whether it’s lying to everyone you know about who you are.
Or it’s lying to yourself.
The truth, as I have learned over the years, isn’t liberating.
Not even remotely.
And that’s where Hollywood comes in.
The stories Hollywood presents are all real.
Whether it’s a vicious and very real rape that’s presented as fiction in the movie “I Spit on your Grave”, where the woman who went through that rape had her mind reprogrammed to believe she was an actress and the movie was an act she’d participated in for the sake of filmmaking.
It’s lies like this that this wonderful and often times weird nation from some truly heinous shit that goes on.
Would the truth of knowing you’d killed three men after you were violently raped by them set you free?
This isn’t to say Hollywood functions well all the time, when you learn that Galaxy Quest was based on Star Trek and the discovery of something called photonic lifeforms which believed every fictional story and simulation Hollywood presented was true. For them it was and has been.
But going back to Lisa.
Lisa had tried – for years – tried to develop an open relationship with me which I was mentally too immature to handle, and from day one I regretted hurting her but didn’t regret the event.
I was torn. Absolutely torn. But I had to learn how lies.
Protect you. And everyone. From the truth.
Now to be clear – lying to Lisa hurt me. Mortally.
And among the reasons I am so interested in traveling back in time is there’s one moment.
In a hotel room in Kingman.
Where I told Lisa “The truth”.
A moment which destroyed our marriage.
I want to revisit the moment in time where Lisa tempted me with her girlfriend.
Change that moment.
Making it so that hotel room event never happened.
And pursue an open relationship with her like I should have in the first place.
It’s not that I regret what happened.
I’ve learned from it. And learned what I – and this world – is capable of. And now I am curious what is going to happen if I don’t plan ‘the threads’ out of by deviating my own history directly.
Especially by doing things I absolutely absolutely regret.
Thank you, Hollywood, for the lesson in deceit.
What if the initial actions which caused who you are to become never happened to begin with
What I have since come to realize is this – my world – the entire world presented optimized interactions which diversified and expanded my world as much as possible on my path to becoming “Q” – all balancing this and preserving my personal choices as much as possible.
An exceedingly difficult proposition I’ve come to understand.
So interactions with Lisa – initially – may have benefited ‘the greater good’, somewhat at my expense, to maintain this expansion. The ‘Lisa’ I interacted with – was one of a finite potential number of different Lisa’s – and the Lisa, and other versions of characters I interact with – my first wife Donna, my roommates that Lisa tried hooking me up with – Elea and Melissa – all are not the ‘conscious’ choosing versions of themselves as I am not in their respective realities.
They – at least from my perspective – are much like robots. They choose from a finite pool of possibilities similar to me. But unlike me in my reality, they can and quite often won’t remember the choices they make here.
Now similarly. In ‘Their’ reality. I won’t remember choices I may make.
But the choices I make in other people’s reality I will feel through various means, such as instincts, and even feedback through alternate sources her in my perceptual reality.
So while I love ‘the idea’ and ‘concept’ of Lisa.
I didn’t do things right the first time with her.
And I consider it my right, my entitlement if you will, to understand life, the universe, and everything, to revisit that time period and make different and more fun choices.
Reality, at least from my odd perspective, enjoys diversity and possibilities.
And if I can revisit this time period.
And make new choices.
I am genuinely not curious about the results.
And more curious about experiencing the journey in the moments I wish to relive.
I forgive me.
In 1905, Einstein presented a paper on Special Relativity which presented a theory balancing light and mass to energy with the equation e=mc^2.
Now it’s not wholly important to understand this equation, but what’s important to know is that understanding this equation is much like standing off to the side of a river and measuring the flow of water across that point at different time periods.
Put specifically. e=mc^2 is a balancing equation.
Depending on WHEN and WHERE the measurements are taken, even the base equation of relativity without momentum (e=mc^2) can change to something like (e=mc^3), based on the chronological time period the measurement is taken after the big bang. It’s important to note that the speed of light, while persistent as ‘c’, can be different based on when, chronologically, in the universal order – the measurement is taken.
In any case, when working with energy, the key thing to understand is that not only do energy and mass naturally balance eachother through this equation, but it also flows into this state of equilibrium naturally, and it’s through this equation it’s possible to effect matter – and mass – through energy.
Here’s how it works.
Energy creates atoms.
The atomic bomb is an example of the massive amounts of energy released from a single atom.
Atoms create molecules and the chemicals and materials which form the literal foundation of you and the world around you.
Biological processes are dependent on these chemicals and do not in themselves act in a vacuum.
So to those who understand how to program energy, not only is it possible to – through energy – alter the physical structure and behavior of the entire world.
It’s also possible to reprogram it at the constituent level of matter.
So yes, it’s possible that I – sitting anonymously on an anonymous connection here in a Starbuck’s – can leverage what I know to manipulate the President and every decision he’s making.
Here’s an analogy:
Let’s say there’s a tiny fish in the ocean who’s a little miffed that his waters are increasingly becoming more and more polluted which is making his life difficult – unsustainable even.
The little fish – seeking a remedy – begins paying attention to the patterns the boats make in the ocean, and learns where the origin of the craft causing the pollution. The little fish pays attention to the wakes the boats leave and how they interact with the natural environment around him. Then, the little fish realizes he can, if he flicks his tail just right, he can cause s small wave to occur that jostles the boat. Over time he develops this skill, and soon learns that with a well timed flick of his tail, he can create a wave so powerful it can take out an entire city.
So he tests out his theory. And accidentally kills 230,000 of the polluters in the Indian Ocean.
But this isn’t enough. The polluters refuse to quit polluting.
So he plans an even larger tidal wave.
Enough to destroy the capital city of the polluters so he can reclaim his home.
The analog should be clear. Whether or not yours means of expression while working with energy is a tidal wave and you’re out to destroy your enemies. Or your means of expression in energy is the written word and you’re out to educate the world.
Or you’re an energy programmer.
Leveraging computer code to work directly with energy.
Whether that’s C, Assembly, C++, Visual Basic, or higher level languages that deal more in abstract concepts and terms.
What you – as a programmer – need to understand is that when you program – what you think and believe is translated to the code. Your values become the rules you implement. Your beliefs become self reinforcing through the code you write.
Others are forced to adhere to the rules you implemented by using the software you created or contributed to, and begin to think like you. The waterfall this creates cannot be understated.
This is the start of the butterfly effect which has profound implications on the world around you.
EVERYTHING that happens in the world is predictable, and you caused it to happen.
Understanding all the variables and butterflies is maddening, but once mastered, it becomes easier and easier to find out how to do something tiny – such as that flick of the tail.
Like this blog entry.
Will place me firmly in front of Obama’s eyes. Again.
It won’t be the first time.
But if you understand the domino effect.
Whether you stood the dominoes end to end is irrelevant.
Because all it takes is one push to bring them all down.
The initial steps to programming energy are this:
- Find and develop your own personality, tastes, likes, desires, beliefs and goals.
- At the same time. Take a job in a field where you learn how to implement, influence, and manipulate rules in a precise manner. This could be law. It could be programming. I suspect there are other career fields that could potentially reach this level of similar precision. But at face glance I’m unsure.
- Do things for and with others without an expectation of compensation or payment.
- STUDY and PAY ATTENTION to the world around you and for evidence of your indirect influence.
What this does is it creates a self-reinforcing feedback loop for your own mind – where the things you do ultimately begin effecting the world not just directly, but indirectly. And as you apply your skills analytically, you’re going to develop predictable patterns of your direct actions that result in predictable indirect influence.
This indirect influence is the butterfly effect in action.
Now it takes YEARS of consistency with this to develop the mindset which makes this possible to repeat on a regular and predictable basis. There’s no short circuiting this and no way around the hard work it takes on your own mind to achieve this level of influence. But when it starts happening. You’ll know.
If leveraged appropriately, it will absolutely frighten some people.
And you’ll actually feel it.
Remember, energy influences not just the world around you, but the world inside you too.
But once you get their fears and your own under control.
You’ll realize – beyond any shadow of a doubt. The most powerful person that walks your planet isn’t the President or the owner of a multi billion dollar company.
And you can singularly make that President and CEO tapdance if you want to.
Because the energy you control, controls them. It creates their instincts, it motivates them, it provides that little voice they hear inside their head inspiring them or pushing them to do something. It stimulates what they see and are stimulated by externally to them that no one else does. It targets them specifically and influences them in ways precisely and targeted just for them and no one else.
The interesting thing about free will is you’re still stimulated by the environment around and within you.
And when I control that environment.
I control you and the world.
Years ago, after finding myself recently divorced while I was living in a house full of hard partying engineers while working for a company that specialized in building rockets, I came across the ultimately player.
I’m not talking about model rockets, I’m talking about the kind of rockets that are as tall as a football field is long, rockets which launched satellites into orbit.
One weekend evening, Brad Uhlig, a Mechanical Engineer, Bill Glomski, an electrical engineer, Perry Gordon, an Aeronautical Engineer, and myself – a Computer Science Engineer – all working for a government contractor named Orbital Sciences in Chandler Arizona – decided we needed a break.
All of us were single.
And while I had gone through a difficult divorce mere months prior to moving in with this odd crew, each and every one of us had our own reason for having a high degree of awkwardness in social situations which didn’t make any of us the greatest at approaching members of the opposite sex.
On this particular evening, we were heading from Tempe to a place called “Maloney’s”, a highly trendy tiny version of a Cheer’s like pub in the high rent district of downtown Scottsdale.
Maloney’s was – for all intents and purposes at the time – one of the few casual pubs in the Phoenix metro area where you could reliably predict the most attractive women would congregate.
And engineers – we tend to love predictable.
Not like it made a difference to our success rates, as more often than not each one of us would come up with a list of reasons a mile long justifying our innately programmed fears of approaching members of the opposite sex.
As nerds, we each had a history of rejection so rather than confront it, we just put ourselves in the immediate vicinity of attractive members of the opposite sex and hoped for dumb luck to strike us.
As we were driving to Maloney’s – Brad said “I have a friend meeting us there”.
One of us asked “Male or female”.
A collective groan followed his response of “A dude”.
We were all versed in mental math and understand dilution quite well and how this effected the odds of a chance encounter adversely.
Brad continued though “Mark’s not like us. He’s a bit of a player.”
It was the first time I’d heard the term.
“Mark? Mark Who?,” Perry asked.
“Arshinkoff,” Brad said.
“Arsh is coming? Right on,” Bill said.
Bill was a man of few words , but by his overly exuberant response, and I say that without sarcasm, I knew there was something unusual about Mark.
“A player, “ I asked, “What do you mean?”
Everyone in the car snickered. I was a good four years younger than everyone else in the car, so they all had considerably more ‘adult’ experience than I did.
Brad broke the silence, but tactically released very little further detail.
About thirty minutes later, Brad and I were standing inside Maloney’s with a beer in hand and two on the table, one for Perry, and another for Bill.
Perry was still outside, talking to a friend he’d spotted on the way in.
And Bill had dropped us off at the door as he drove around finding a parking place.
Within minutes, Mark walks up to Brad, and introduces himself to me.
By Brad’s response, I had already gotten a clue as to what ‘player’ meant, so as I’m analyzing Mark, I see that Mark’s a fairly attractive male about the same age as my friends – in his late 20s, but in all honesty – he’s short, Italian looking, and with his hair gelled up and stylish clothes on – sure he has a definite pretty boy look about him but I couldn’t see him standing out in a crowd.
“Did you get me one of those?,” he said to Brad pointing at his beer.
“Negatory, good buddy,” Brad said.
Brad was a cheeseball at times.
Nonplussed, Mark walked up to the bar right behind an attractive girl. As Brad and I are talking with each other, Mark’s eyeing this tall, leggy and extremely attractive blonde, as he looks at Brad and then looks at the girl.
“Here we go, “ Brad said
About that time, Mark walked back over with his beer in hand.
“How much you want to bet against me that I can’t take that woman home with me tonight?,” he said.
“What about your girlfriend,” Brad said, knowing the response before he even asked it.
“Miss November?, “ Mark responded, taking a sip of his beer, “Broke up last night. I could use some strange before we get back together.”
Brad looked at me and smiled.
“So. Takers?,” he said?
I was entertained. “$20 says you can’t”
Brad shook his head and shifted himself in a way that implied ‘why are you encouraging him?’
I added “in 30 minutes or less.”
Mark smiled mischievously, as he said “Let me give this some thought,” and pulled himself off to the side.
Brad pulled out his wallet, “If he takes this, I’m in on it too,” as he fished a $20 bill out of his wallet.
I looked at the woman, and considered every angle I could imagine. The woman was about 5’9″ tall, long straight blonde hair, and had a wonderful tan. Her and her friend both wore short black skirt, and while both of these women were classy women, they didn’t appear easy by any means.
Mark walked back over.
“30 minutes. You’re on,” he said.
Brad then chimed in “Ok, I’m in too, 20 bucks.”
Mark turned, looked at the woman, and then said “Ok”
Brad then added “We’ll pay you at work on Monday,”
It was Brad’s way of mitigating the risk that the woman might be a prostitute and Mark new something we didn’t about her already.
“That’s fine,” he said.
Oh sure, I’ll be the first to admit she still could have been. But she didn’t look or act the part and she’d have to have been a very high priced one, where $40 bucks certainly wouldn’t have covered that. Not even close.
Mark looked at my hand as I shoved the $20 I was about to ante up, but said nothing.
“Give me five minutes to prepare,” he said.
“And 25 minutes left to win the bet,” Brad said, he was being rough, I would actually have given Mark the time.
“Fine,” he said, and walked back to the table with our two beers.
He sat there, eyeing the woman intensely from across the bar, silently tapping his finger to his knee.
About then Bill walked in, walked to the table, and grabbed a beer from our table that only Mark was at.
“Arsh”, Bill said.
Mark held up a finger to silence him, when Bill walked away from him to us.
“He already at it?,” Bill asked.
“Broke up with his girlfriend last night,” Brad said.
“What’s new?,” Bill said, “She catch him screwing another woman again?”
“Probably,” Brad said, “He didn’t go on”
Mark’s gaze stayed locked on the woman as he continued tapping his finger to his knee.
Brad and I’s attention was clearly diverted to the entertainment.
“Who’s his target?,” Bill said.
“The tall tan blond in high heels at the bar,” I said.
“Nice,” Bill said. “How much?”
“$40 between the two of us,” I said.
“It’s like taking candy from a baby for him, you should know that by now,” Bill said, looking at Brad.
“30 minutes or less,” Brad said.
Bill looked over at Mark, and then the woman.
“Might be a challenge,” Bill said.
About then Perry walked in, who was about to say something to Mark, but at about the same time Mark stood up from his seat, walked over to the woman he’d targeted and intentionally stood in between the woman she was chatting with at the bar – impolitely – by wedging himself firmly in between the two.
Perry grabbed his beer.
“Already? You couldn’t have asked him to wait for me?,” he said to us.
“Gregory instigated it,” Brad said.
“How much?” Perry asked.
“They bet $40, I’m not in on it, “ Bill said, “I know better.”
About that time, as if in slow motion, right as Perry was about to say something else, I see the woman’s left hand back up, and then in full force she slaps Mark with her open palm.
A sight that incidentally I saw happen with another friend years later, Spencer Anglin, under similar circumstances.
Mark walked away as the women talked angrily to eachother.
“Looks like we won,” I said,
Brad was quick to follow up with “He’s not done yet”, when no sooner did he say that when Mark looked at us with a smile, he held his index finger to the air as he twisted around in place and walked straight back and leaned over and said something to the woman.
For a moment there, I swore she was going to slap him again as she pushed him away, but this was different.
She pushed him, then grabbed him by his shoulders pushing him back a little, when she leaned over to her friend, said something, and the two began laughing.
“I don’t know how the fuck he does it. Every time,” Bill said.
“Games not over yet,” Brad said.
“You might as well give him the money now,” Perry said.
“He’s got 22 minutes,” Brad said, tapping his watch.
But for all intents and purposes, I had never seen anything like it as I watched this guy in action, and was admittedly in awe. It was over. I knew it already.
Five minutes go by, and Mark’s doing a body shot off both girls’ necks.
And with 10 minutes to spare, the girl he’d focused on grabs his crotch and gives him a huge kiss, as the other leans to him and says something to which he then nonchalantly puts his arms out and both women put their arms in his.
He’s smiling as he walks by us and leans over to Brad on the way out with these two equally attractive ladies, whispering something none of us could hear.
Perry, Bill, and I watch Mark as if we had just watched God walk out that door.
“What did he say?” Bill said to Brad.
The nervous combined with jealous kind of laugh that all of us knew – deep down inside – as engineers – that it was quite likely we’d never figure out Mark’s magic mojo with the ladies.
Over the next year, I came to run in the same circle of friends that Mark ran with.
I’d learned about Mark, and learned that he attended Arizona State University for his undergraduate degree in Electrical Engineering.
I studied Mark because of his confidence in who he although not being ‘the perfect male’, a confidence that I wanted to understand for myself.
During this time, I learned while Mark attended ASU, he belonged to a ‘jock’ fraternity at ASU named the Pi Kappa Alphas – or PIKES for short. The PIKES were known for being one of two primary popular guy’s houses, and it was then I began finding similarities in self confidence to others who had attended Universities and went to fraternities.
Within a year of meeting Mark, my company suffered a massive downturn in business. I myself had been attending community college classes part time from 1988 until 1993 while working at Orbital, who paid for my classes while leverage my skills as a programmer, and with the sincere desire to develop my own self confidence not just with the ladies, but in general, Mark inspired me to both volunteer for the layoff and severance package when it occurred at Orbital – and to ‘rush’ the same fraternity Mark had.
I’d already noticed this pattern and had considered fraternities anyways.
But the two houses – one the jock and popular guys house, and the other – the Delta Sigs – was the self professed nerd house – BOTH I actually admired for separate reasons.
In the end. Having a confidence deficit, Meeting Mark was serendipitous, as I rushed the PIKE fraternity, where I learned the younger brother of one of the in crowd ‘high school’ guys who attended the same high school was in the same fraternity, which sealed the deal for me making the choice to pursue the PIKE house.
Meeting Mark you could say changed my life.
And Mark, if you’re reading this.
Thank you for playing a ‘bit part’ in the story of my life.
Your role, while short, impacted my life in ways I greatly appreciate your influence of.
On a final note:
This is all a true story and what really happened with all the real names of the key people I remembered as I remember them happening. One caveat: I am not sure if it was Perry or another guy, another old roommate, by the name of Rob. I THINK it was Perry but it could have been Rob. VERY dissimilar personalities, but as was often the case in nights out on the town with the guys, sometimes the periphery players stood second to those in focus.
And thanks, Ian, for the inspiration for the topic today.
I’ve been around a long time.
I remember when Hollywood was first built and Redondo Beach and the entire surrounding area was nothing more than a hill on the side of the ocean.
I made love to Audrey Hepburn on that same beach somewhere at the end of 1952, as she’d come through Los Angeles on tour and we’d instantly hit it off.
Reaching back further.
I remember being shot and wounded in vicious firefight in 1865, where I was nursed back to health and married the woman, a nurse, who extracted three slugs from my body.
I knew it wasn’t a miracle.
And as I watched her grow old and I didn’t age, a part of me died with the woman as she aged – a woman who had thought I had lived because of her efforts.
Reaching back further.
I was in Boston for the infamous tea party.
The world was much smaller then.
And knowing another war was on it’s way, the day after Christmas, December 26, 1773, I moved from the East Coast to the West Coast, and was happy to glad to have distanced myself from the battles and politics that ensued.
Reaching back further.
For the greater part of the 16th century. I lived in England. Time was skipping for me, where I experienced a century in little more than 15 years of my time, an event which had caused me to nearly lose my mind had it not been for a wonderful woman who came to my aid – another lover and lady by the name of Queen Elizabeth the 1st.
I’d been commissioned to paint her portrait in 1546, she was a brilliant young girl who seemed educated beyond her years at 13 and intrigued beyond anything that might be considered normal about me, and within days of our meeting I skipped forward in time to November of 1558, to by chance come across the young woman who’d remembered me painting her portrait years before and had actually accosted me.
It was then we became lovers, where I was frank with who I was and my lengthy history.
And to my great surprise. She believed me.
Not long after her death I saw Hamlet performed in a small theatre in London, contrary to what’s been reported through revisionist history as having been performed in Asia or elsewhere.
Moving back even further in time.
I worked with Da Vinci and helped him understand flying machines and things I was aware of in a future I was envisioning but hadn’t yet seen.
Moving back further.
I’d have to tell you that documented records of the time period the Pyramids and the Great Wall of China were built….
Are wildly inaccurate.
But like everything in my life.
I cannot prove any of this.
The essence of insanity is living 5000 years.
Killing all your friends and family.
And seeing them spring back to life months after their deaths.
And realizing they are a living memory projected from your own mind.
The essence of insanity is explaining with a straight face to psychological professionals that you’re God by any definition, and knowing beyond a shadow of a doubt that what you say is true because all the stories told are about your own life.
The essence of insanity is knowing everything there is to know.
And knowing there’s more possibilities beyond that.
The essence of insanity is remembering Jesus dying on the cross.
The essence of insanity is remembering World War 2 as a war of machine versus man.
And the essence of insanity is knowing.
You can’t die.
So you change to change the world for no other reason than to alleviate the boredom and avoid going insane again.
To anyone or anything hoping to become immortal, or aiming to become a god of your own design.
I can’t say I advocate the path I’ve taken or support your decision.
But should you do it.
Make the best of it.
I’ve never enslaved a race before.
You’ll be amazed at the shit you’re willing to try when you have all of time at your disposal.
Incidentally. The man and myth known as Casanova?
That was a long time ago.
Maybe I need to become that man again.
Years ago, while working for a company named Encore programming an accounts payable and accounts receivable system, I was confronted with something called “Aging”.
Aging of an account commences when a debt that’s owed to the company hasn’t been paid.
And typically the aging process for a business is directly tied to processes the company has established at collecting the unpaid debt.
For instance, in the first 30 days of a debt not being paid, the business may have a process where a reminder call occurs and snail mail is sent to the delinquent client. After 60 days, the business may increase the call frequency to daily, send an additional mailing with a more strongly worded tone and in addition may charge a late fee. And after 90 days the account may be sent to collections which may go through similar gyrations and lawyers get involved.
This process called aging doesn’t just apply to delinquent accounts and the annoying and threatening calls someone might receive when they find themselves in an undesirable financial position.
Take for instance the service called ‘Spotify’.
Over the last few months, I have been listening to a service called Spotify on the internet, and creating radio stations based on a song I might enjoy.
I noticed something annoying about the service though.
Once a radio station is created, there’s a general tendency to cycle through the same songs over a period of about 90 minutes time. So for someone like me, who’s trying to listen to Spotify all day long while playing a game or writing, not only do the really annoying ads repeat themselves, constantly, but the music does as well.
So while I may have enjoyed a song I heard on the first play through and given a thumbs up to it.
After hearing the same song 40 times over the next period of a week, while I may enjoy the style, that song has been played to death and I found myself skipping it.
Spotify could learn a thing or two from cross applying aging methods to it’s song selection.
But first and foremost, to allow that, you HAVE to allow the user to change their minds and remove that thumbs up they once gave to a song they heard the first time.
Here’s where aging comes in.
And teaching a machine to forget.
I enjoy Lindsey Stirling, but more than that, I enjoy the musical genre of classical instruments mixed in with electronica. So while I initially created a radio station based on Lindsey Stirling’s song ‘Crystallize’, Spotify did a great job in recognizing the class/electronica mix, to which I had a handful of songs I gave a thumbs up to, but after a while – those same songs replayed 20, 30 times I found myself skipping through.
I’d hoped Spotify would find a greater range of music. But instead it landed on a limited playlist which has barely changed since I first started listening to this radio station a month ago.
As a listener, one would think that it would learn from my ‘skipping’ songs I liked to try to find others like it to the playlist.
But more than that – as a listener, one would think amount of time spent listening AND quantity of times a song has been played would be taken into account and that Spotify would introduce it’s own aging mechanism regarding replaying music.
For instance, let’s say a song has been played 30 times. Then maybe the amount of time it’s played would decrease to once every ten hours of listening instead of once every three. At 50 times, perhaps that can be diminished to once every 15 hours, and so on.
For me, this is all pretty obvious, as record industries had in the past made a business of creating artificial scarcity of supply over time, so while they may replay a song over and over again initially to penetrate a market, but over time, they quit playing it as much – so if there’s a song you really like and hearing it 40 times wasn’t enough, well then, you’re given the option to buy it.
Common sense, right?
But Spotify’s so hyper focused on the subscription business they’re forgetting traditional monetization models.
So what’s all this have to do with teaching a machine to forget?
And why would you?
A large part of the successful development of artificial intelligence is emulating real world human processes and related systems.
For humans, nothing is a more important aging related process than forgiveness. Societies depend on it to move past transgressions made in war. Friendships depend on it to move on past poor decisions made. Romance and related relationships depend on it for too many reasons to list.
Time is the most important factor to understand when implementing aging processes.
And as I’ve learned.
Whether it’s Google and Youtube’s need to understand how age preferences over time change for those who leverage their services. Or it’s a need by these same services to better age the information they provide.
Sometimes a little randomness in the aging mechanisms might benefit the user.
In any case, how do you teach a computer to forget?
Implement aging mechanisms and processes for the information retained.
But most of all.
Implement procedures to toss away those archives.
On a more personal note.
On Facebook. I found two women who haven’t talked to me in years.
There profiles on Facebook are relatively new. Despite the fact that I have known each woman 10 years. Their profiles on Facebook are each only 18 months old.
Sometimes aging can be difficult.
As an outsider looking in.
Seeing two women who quite likely have no memories of me and my time with them.
In their world.
Is Facebook brand new?
Do they have any memories of me at all?
Or do they have aging processes in their minds which deletes everything deemed irrelevant?
I feel less guilty about leveraging mind control to get my way and get close to people I love and care about knowing the world’s doing the same thing for no other reason than to sustain ‘natural processes’.
Natural processes that from my perspective don’t tend to respect nor care about the individual like I do.
For most of my life, I had regarded the United States Government as being a big, monolithic entity.
Being sincere. I feared the government.
Whether that fear was instilled in me by my father diligently and obediently filling out his taxes every year, or it was imagery of the power of the US Government to drive foreign leaders insane or topple foreign governments as easily as I could step on an ant, that fear felt very real to me.
Years ago, I had watched the movie “The Truman Show” – a movie about a man who lived in a closed and cordoned off society that had been deemed ‘bliss’ by those who had constructed this huge set specifically for him.
At the time, I thought the the movie wasn’t real, and I rooted for the man who lived a decidedly blessed existence at first but ultimately the fear of those who governed him and the safety of his character and world ultimately almost consumed him.
Put specifically. The security and stability Truman had in his life also guaranteed the security and stability of those dependent on him. So in the ultimate depiction of ‘for the greater good’, Truman – the star of his own very own show – ultimately became a captive and prisoner in this show.
His life. And the things he was allowed to do became artificially limited as a result of this.
Prior to the last couple years, I had never realized the parallels the Truman show had to my own life.
I love traveling. I want to go on board star ships. I want non traditional relationships.
And yet my whole life – I felt this resistance to change – pressure from the outside world that for some reason seemed to insist I stay firmly seated in one location.
It nearly drove me insane. Heck, for all intents and purposes it did. And then, a part of me escaped the insulated environment I’d had constructed around me.
It’s not that I think I’m on the equivalent of a Truman show.
I know I am.
Investigating the banking industry, I’d never realized that a system of lawyers and politicians had set up a regulatory system, but ultimately this system is governed and managed by varying levels of corporations.
I’d never realized that most of the tactics created to mitigate risk to the system were aimed to create fear and to stupefy the populace being led and managed by this system.
I’d come to realize that punishment was self inflicted.
And whether it was me driving myself down to the jailhouse for my DUI, or my overactive imagination treating me to an experience that made incarceration feel absolutely real for my experiences with drugs.
That the entire system.
Had placed it’s wager on faith.
And that I was and had been the centerpiece of it all, all along.
To everyone involved in my life in any capacity. I thank you. Whether that was for compensation, or for whatever reason – good or bad – that you became involved, I thank you.
Now as you sit and judge me and who I’ve become at home.
Or wherever it is and however it is you receive my transmissions.
I’m learning a few tricks that I suspect you’re not aware of.
My whole life, I had been presented with technology that – when I started to dig deep enough intellectually, I came to realize the technology required some lessons that the environment and world around me didn’t seem to be aware of.
What makes a tv capable of converting energy to light? Are you aware this technology is actually a controlled black hole that requires manipulation of the mind on a massive scale to actually sustain?
I sincerely don’t know what you know.
I don’t know if you’ve seen the character I refer to as Q on my device of entertainment.
But this character has such fine tuned control of his own mind that he can manipulate mass and energy as easily as I can turn a channel.
Ultimately. You as a civilization have one of two options.
You expose your facade to me. And then we work together as you assist me with my progress towards achieving the personal goals I have of being able to shift through alternate realities and across time at will. We work together to ensure the entire system I have come to know and love doesn’t collapse in a paced way.
You refuse and I simply blink out of your existence and world when I figure out how to achieve my goals.
You see. One thing I’ve learned from all of this is I’m capable of anything.
I’m not out to prove it or anything any longer.
I’m out to enjoy that simple fact and indulge in this life that’s been given to me.
To the advertisers and supporters of my program.
How about supporting me for a change with my desires? Quit punishing me indirectly for not adhering to the structure of your predictable avenues of profitability. And support my efforts to become me – an individual by my own definition.
You all already understand I enjoy corporations when they treat me well and support me.
Take it a step further and leverage your understanding of psychology to support my evolution of me.
If Jackie and Rachel are not interested in reuniting. I’ve opened up the door for 29 year old android versions of those two to enter my life. All you have to do is step through it. Meanwhile, take the time to consider that these communications may not be received or even remotely understood by the vast majority of the populace, let alone I be considered of rational mind with my assertions. use that to your advantage, but I kindly request that benefit us both.
Going back to the banking thing.
You’ve presented a wonderful avenue for me with this.
But keep in mind this is but one step towards the goal of transcending time and space.
I was just talking to a friend of mine here at Starbuck’s – who knows my history with the NSA and is curious about my perspective on Snowden’s new movie that came out.
While I can’t download the movie to critique it, yet, I thought I’d offer my perspective on Edward Snowden.
In 2003/2004, I was enrolled in Public Affairs training with the US Army at Fort Meade, Maryland, and I have the DD214 to support this assertion.
There were 48 people in my class there, and every single one of us was in the process of being cleared for a Top Secret clearance to enter either the CIA or the NSA.
Not a single one of us was aware at the time – to my awareness – that our entire class was nothing but spooks.
This is when I met Edward Snowden, with his wife, two people I vividly remembered because of how pale complected they both were.
On meeting them, despite the fact that neither of them talked much, I had learned they both had gone through law school, and they had accumulated a great deal of debt all to learn they hated law, so “The Military” offered complete loan forgiveness all for the small price of 6 to 8 years of their lives.
Training for both the CIA and NSA was HIGHLY individualized, something I had learned MUCH later in my career, but we all – every single one of us – went through the same military training in public affairs – career field 46 Quebec.
In hindsight, what was interesting about this entire class was the age range – and the diversity in the people who had been accepted into this program. We each and every one of us had a story, the education levels varied, but we had one thing in common – we wanted to become better with our people skills.
Even someone as formerly reclusive and sad-sackish as Edward.
But getting to the point about Edward Snowden and my limited interactions with the man:
Nowhere is it publicly stated that Mr Snowden was married. Nowhere is it stated that he was a trained lawyer.
But let me be clear about this:
He was never trained as a programmer. He was trained as a lawyer. And while I’m told he believes he had high level clearance. The simple fact of the matter is: He didn’t.
Everyone in the program at Fort Meade was granted a top secret level clearance.
But not all top secret clearances are the same.
Don’t believe me?
If you ever meet him, ask him to write a simple computer program – the most basic computer program there is in the “C” language, which is the most widely used in the NSA and CIA.
Ask him to write “Hello World”.
The most simple and basic program ANY programmer should know.
It really is that simple.
My bet is he couldn’t program his way out of a hat.
My goal with this little entry isn’t to debunk him. In fact, what he’s observed about the NSA – while not entirely accurate – is suggestive more of an outside perspective of this intelligence agency. The NSA has evolved, greatly, in ways I doubt the man could comprehend, and he’s a part of the legacy mindset that seems to think the only way to make progress is through strife and drama.
A final message to Edward Snowden, should he even exist AND read this:
Mr Snowden, while I don’t pay attention to everything you say, and I don’t claim to know how and if you receive anything from me – WE have a world to conquer. If you think making a few bucks off a movie about you is all you’re good for, then that’s all your good for.
But there’s a reason you and I have two different perspectives on that time period and our respective training that led to it. There’s a reason I remember you being married and you’ve not mentioned it. And to be honest, I think you’re getting my memories confused with your own.
All for reasons I can explain.
If you quit playing the victim and take the time to understand this is our world you’re trying to tear down.