- A 2D isomorphic RPG
- A virus that reprogram itself, i.e. a metamorphic virus
- A fully believable and thorough AI
This list will grow.
Why am I doing all of this? Why am I going to school? Why am I stressing myself out?
Why don’t I just major in music? Honestly, it would be easier. It would be a hell of a lot easier. But I have to remind myself of The Goal. The Reason I’m Doing This.
To please my family? Perhaps, partly. To make a decent income after I graduate? Perhaps, partly. But if those were the only reasons, I would have quit long ago. There’s more to it than just me.
See, our world has issues. Wars, poverty, starvation, disease. Economy crumbling. And what’s the cause of all these issues? Is there a single if-I-had-to-choose-one-I-would-choose-this-one cause? Is there a single most-of-the-world’s-problems-could-potentially-be-encapsulated-in-this-lone-phrase cause? Answer: Yes. And what is this cause? Lack of communication.
But not communication in the ordinary sense of the word. The mundane sense. Political party talks. UN meetings. Scientific conferences. There’s much of that going around already (maybe not enough, but There’s Much). What I’m talking about is not communication in the mundane sense, but communication in the personal sense. In the heartfelt sense. We can put together statistics of people dying of AIDS in Africa, but that doesn’t show you the magnitude of the situation. How can we, as external observers, ever understand the magnitude of the situation? How can we understand the life of a Chicago street beggar? What do they feel, what do they think? Should we stop and ask them?
Not to discount the value of statistics (I’m a mathematician after all… then again, statisticians aren’t really mathematicians), but they never tell you the whole story. How can they? It’s easy to know some things are true. The Euler phi function of a prime p is equal to p-1. The Laplace transform of 1 is 1/s. The Ideal Gas Law? Easy… PV=nRT. But how can we know if someone else is really hurting inside? That the bearded man sitting on the bench at Adams was lonely?
How can we know who needs help the most? And how can we know how to reward those who do the most to help others? How can we ever be sure of Us, of The Way We Are? Are we heading in The Right Direction? How will we ever know if our misstep made tragedy for someone on the other side of the world? Not all of the algorithms of Life are stable; sometimes a small change of input can lead to disaster. And with the earth’s population continually growing, we are bound to step on each other’s toes now more than ever.
Most of all, though, how do we know where to go from here? We can’t listen to everyone’s thoughts at once, not yet. We go forward in certainty unless we’re all aware and we all are certain, unless we all understand and we all contribute. And while technology improves, almost anyone can realize that we are only growing farther apart, like the stars in our cold universe.
We have the power, we have the skill, we have the knowledge, but we need The Direction. And so it becomes not a technological problem, not a physical problem, not an academic problem, but a social problem. THE Social Problem.
I don’t have much time to elaborate now (homework to do, surprise), but I’ll remind you of a related post, from nearly a year ago.
It’s called Wireless Internet Capabilities. http://blacknixdreaming.com/archives/128
This is why I’m here. I’d like to bring us closer together. How, I’m not quite sure. But if I can help, then the world has my mind, my eyes and my hands.
So. Cory fixed everything this week. And by everything I mean he (1) installed Arch Linux and set up X and GNOME and wireless and sound and stuff, and he also (2) re-installed XP on my system, which was more of fixing the brokenness than “the plan”, but I think it turned out to be A Good Thing. I’ve actually been using Arch much, much more than I have XP. This surprises me (hence the “actually”). But it’s so awesome and fantabulous and customizeable, I can’t help myself. Witness the beauty:
Yes, my computer is named Omega Fierce, or rather, (omega)mega F13rce (apparently). Don’t make fun. I get my ridiculous moments.
Other News,
I finished two books over break. The Brief Wonderous Life of Oscar Wao, by Junot Díaz, was not quite as entertaining as most of the books I read (Jonathan Safran Foer, for example), but it was definitely, well, interesting. Thought-provoking without preaching. I’m not sure if I liked it. Sometimes I like the preaching, as silly as that sounds. But maybe that’s just my laziness.
Tangent: It seems that, the more I learn, the more naive I understand myself to be. The first step in learning is understanding one’s ignorance? Or something? Hmm… (End Tangent.)
The second book was Me Talk Pretty One Day, by David Sedaris. It was funny in parts. But, well, in other parts it was cringeable. Especially when he talks about things he hates, because a lot of the things he hates, I’m especially fond of. I’ve realized I probably wouldn’t like David Sedaris as a person. We probably wouldn’t be best friends, he and I.
Oh! Have you heard of Joby Talbot? He’s composed for a few movies and things. I bought his album The Dying Swan and it’s rather good. Not Nico Muhly good, of course, but good. Pleasant. John Adams or Ludovico Einaudi pleasant.
And to completely ruin the idea that I could possibly have good taste in music, I also bought Grandes Éxitos, which is a compilation of Shakira’s Spanish hits. Yeah. Uh-huh. Suck it.
Um. What else. I got a desk for my apartment. I’ll be getting a chair and a lamp and a toaster soon. Exciting, I know. I have no idea why you’re still reading this.
Honestly, the reason I haven’t posted in a while is because I haven’t really had a good reason to. I’m emotionally fairly stable. (Huhwhat?) And while I’m not sure exactly what happened to the crazy, manic depressive Black you’ve all come to know and love, it’s entirely possible that he may not come back for a while. So, forgive me if I don’t offer any new brilliant/insane insights into our minds and souls. Or if I even post much.
*shrug* Busylifeness.
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