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:O
What's that? I've actually progressed past the point of panicked dot points and canon-notes and have managed to write some words?
C'EST UN MIRACLE.
Number of literary references that have snuck in ALREADY: four. Je suis condamnée à être prétentieuse. Though despite the prevailing winds of francophilia that appear to be blowing through my vocabulary tonight, I am manfully resisting any attempts by that language to infiltrate my fic.
I spent a goodly portion of this morning whacking spiders with a broom in the very hot sun, in an attempt to clean up the outdoor furniture in preparation for my 21st. It wasn't fun. But! I also finished A Passage to India (verdict: not nearly as fun as ARwaV, but very good nonetheless) and am on the last chapter (zomg) of Gödel, Escher, Bach. I am so glad I persevered through the tough chapters on propositional calculus, because I have now passed into the blissful valleys of artificial intelligence and the interactive nature of form and content in artistic expression. I am so impressed with this book, largely because it so neatly matches my own intellectual interests at this moment in time: it's as though the author was hoping for readers with a strong background in mathematical reasoning, but with knowledge of molecular genetics & neuroscience & choral music, an interest in linguistics and consciousness theory, and a knack for recognising cross-modal isomorphisms. IT'S SO AMAZING. It's probably the most mentally stimulating thing I've ever read. Unfortunately I can't whole-heartedly recommend it to everyone, as I have a feeling the maths sections would bore most of you to death, but...guh. AWESOME.
C'EST UN MIRACLE.
Number of literary references that have snuck in ALREADY: four. Je suis condamnée à être prétentieuse. Though despite the prevailing winds of francophilia that appear to be blowing through my vocabulary tonight, I am manfully resisting any attempts by that language to infiltrate my fic.
I spent a goodly portion of this morning whacking spiders with a broom in the very hot sun, in an attempt to clean up the outdoor furniture in preparation for my 21st. It wasn't fun. But! I also finished A Passage to India (verdict: not nearly as fun as ARwaV, but very good nonetheless) and am on the last chapter (zomg) of Gödel, Escher, Bach. I am so glad I persevered through the tough chapters on propositional calculus, because I have now passed into the blissful valleys of artificial intelligence and the interactive nature of form and content in artistic expression. I am so impressed with this book, largely because it so neatly matches my own intellectual interests at this moment in time: it's as though the author was hoping for readers with a strong background in mathematical reasoning, but with knowledge of molecular genetics & neuroscience & choral music, an interest in linguistics and consciousness theory, and a knack for recognising cross-modal isomorphisms. IT'S SO AMAZING. It's probably the most mentally stimulating thing I've ever read. Unfortunately I can't whole-heartedly recommend it to everyone, as I have a feeling the maths sections would bore most of you to death, but...guh. AWESOME.
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Il faut que je sorte. In 3 Celsius degrees of weather. WHAT WILL I DO WHEN IT GETS COLDER, FAHYE. I quit. I quit!!!
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I found GEB:EGB in a bookstore one holiday after my math teacher recommended it. It was amazing! But you get math, and information theory, and art, and music, and the nature of thought... I gave the book to my best friend 6 months ago. I miss it.
It is made of win, and imho so are you, for liking it.
If you're in the mood for neuroscience and philosophy (of artificial intelligence and natural consciousness (and the possibilities that lie in the space between)) you might check out the works of Peter Watts, specially Blindsight. (Made the Hugo shortlist this year)
From Maelstrom:
"They didn't have the parts. Forget about the neocortex or the cerebellum—these things had nothing. No hypothalamus, no pineal gland, no sheathing of mammal over reptile over fish. No instincts. No desires. Just a porridge of cultured neurons, really: four-digit IQs that didn't give a rat's ass whether they even lived or died. Somehow they learned through operant conditioning, although they lacked the capacity either to enjoy reward or suffer punishment. Their pathways formed and dissolved with all the colorless indifference of water shaping a river delta. ... Gels rewired themselves with each passing thought; what good is a map when the landscape won't stop moving?"
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http://www.rifters.com/real/Blindsight.htm
http://www.rifters.com/real/shorts/PeterWatts_Blindsight.pdf
(the author decided to put the ebook on his website for free)
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