Notes to self. Working on Standard Notes, an end-to-end encrypted notes app.

Simulation Overflow: The Runtime

The universe is described as having went from a state of nothing to being everything in a trillionth of a second. You know what else has that property? Software programs. Software programs go from a state of absolute nothingness to a state of infinite proliferation every time they are turned on.

And what is software—like us—but an animation of electricity into different patterns and formations?

In thinking about the nature of our existence in the past, I had imagined that our simulation was contained in some external, irreconcilable environment. But come to think of it, if our own universe is the animation of electricity into different formations, perhaps the container is more of the same, and is thus less containing and more fencing. In which case, I have more hope that we may one day make that eternal discovery.

I read somewhere that it is most curious that man views the death he had been under for billions of years prior to birth, as more comely than the impending death which he approaches, which would go on for another innumerable billion years. Are they not the same? You feel after precisely as you did before—that nothingness that is so hard to describe or ponder.

I was laying down the other day, minding my own business, and watching some untopical video about perhaps some supply chain this or logistics that—perhaps some Wendover video—when suddenly I was struck with a thought that ejected me from my world. What if we never discover the nature of all this? See, given all the infinite existential angst we ignore to live a productive life, I had at least found closure in the fact that while we may today be clueless, surely we are progressing towards uncovering this great mystery. If not by 2200, then surely by the year 2,000,000 we shall have it all figured out. But, two million years is pocket change for this brazen universe. It may go on for another fifty billion years without the slightest clue it even exists.

Can it be that it continues to proliferate for another dozen billion years, and whatever consciousness within truly still has no idea why it exists or by what will it does? How tragic. How truly lonely, depraved, and tragic. I am ok today living in complete cluelessness, but only because I hope that our collective efforts are somehow pushing us closer to some thread of hint as to the nature of these string vibrations.

As stated, all signs point to this being a simulation in the absolute literal sense—a meticulous software program that went from not existing, to existing instantaneously as soon as the run script was called. Which begs the question, what is the runtime of our simulation? Is it virtualized, or does it run natively in the host environment? Well, this is much easier to reason about when we consider our own simulations. In which environment does our software run? Software appears to run in a virtual world with no equivalent or transfer between ours, but really, software very much runs natively in our own world. Namely, software is an arrangement of electricity into particular formations—that same electricity which animates us. Humans and software, in this light, are not so different from one another.

Does our simulation have any interest in exposing its nature to us? Well, suppose we were to build some impeccable simulation of our own with beings that can wonder. Would we want to show them our world at some point? I think actually an astounding yes. We love showing off our creations, to those who would listen, like an evil villain loves exposing his intricate plot. We love to show others our world, like getting someone to listen to a song you like or watch a movie you can’t stop thinking about, if for no other reason than for that person to corroborate our sanity. In that same way, if you create a simulation and manufacture a being within whom you fall in love with, in the platonic sense, then it might actually be a very particular—and pressing—goal for you to introduce your world to them.

In the past I thought it unspeakable that we might one day interface with the externals of our simulation, the same way I would find it impossible for a character in a software program to escape the confines of their program and interface natively in ours. But if in fact all simulations, recursively speaking—the one we’re in, the one that simulates us, and the ones we create—if in fact they all exist in the same environment via unique and particular electrical formations, then I find this thought not so unspeakable, but perhaps only a matter of time until the electricity figures out more interoperable formations.


I didn't think I'd see this for another decade, let alone in my lifetime. When my symptoms related to gadolinium exposure from my single-dose MRI contrast agent get particularly bad, I go deep down the Google rabbit-hole in search of hope, which I typically try to avoid for this particular case because I'm afraid of what I might read. If you haven't been following the last two posts, I suffer from a condition known as Gadolinium Deposition Disease, which developed immediately after a one-time administration of a gadolinium-based contrast agent for an MRI scan.

The disease was first classified by radiology textbook author and then professor of radiology at University of North Carolina Chapel Hill, Dr. Richard Semelka. The man is brave, because it is difficult even for me to share the state of my condition due to the simple but depressingly lonely fact that no one believes you. No one believes you're unique in suffering from a disease elsewhere unfounded, from something as common as a contrast agent. If it's this hard for me to talk about it, imagine how hard it must be for an academic to go against all current literature and corporate incentives and choose to believe his patients. Not an easy feat for doctors.

The disease and its classifications have stayed relatively on the fringe for the last several years, but this appears to be changing.

Published November 16 2021, The American College of Radiology published an official report on SAGE: Symptoms Associated with Gadolinium Exposure. They're strictly maneuvering to avoid the "disease" classification, a direct nod to Dr. Semelka, and instead publishing a suggested list of symptom reports that are seemingly on the rise.

You can find me in the right-most category below:

Official whitelist symptoms include (which for the record are not ephemeral and I have been experiencing for 16 months now):

  • Headache
  • Bone and joint pain
  • Joint stiffness
  • Muscle spasms
  • Fatigue
  • Clouded mentation, "Brain fog"
  • Distal extremity and skin thickening, discoloration, and pain
  • Painful tendons and ligaments
  • Tightness in the hands and feet
  • Peripheral neuropathic pain

The bolded entries above are the ones that most afflict me.

Here's the thing. If it was just pain, I'd be somewhat ok with it. I would feel like my lifespan wouldn't be affected by say joint or muscle pain. What troubles me the most is the numbing of my hands and feet (which I suppose is encapsulated by "peripheral neuropathic pain.")

Do you know that sensation you feel when you awake after having slept on your hand and it's alarmingly numb and abuzz? I feel this wonderful sensation randomly throughout the day in my hands and feet. I'll be typing something and suddenly my hand will start to vibrate with numbness. This is the worst symptom of all, because it scares me as to what the underlying mechanics could signify.

After publishing my last few posts, I have heard from several people who've told me they are due for a scan and hadn't the faintest idea what contrast was—they likely would have just acquiesced to the doctor's orders. They are now armed with the information I wish I had to decide if contrast is worth the risk.

Please do yourself a favor before undergoing any medical procedure or drug: do the research. It's scary what you may read sometimes. But believe me that the alternative is ten million times worse.

I leave you with this description of what GDD is like, via Dr. Semelka's blog:

GDD falls more in line with classic medical knowledge: it is an allergy—and more specifically a T-cell disregulation type of allergy. [It] is essentially like a peanut allergy, with the difference that the micropeanuts of Gd have durable retention in your body. In the case of GDD, it is a million micropeanuts hammered into your skeleton and skin.


I wrote this post on April 7, 2021, but never published it. I guess I just didn't want the disease to define me. Surprisingly, it also takes a bit of courage to publish something that goes against the official whitelist of negative medical interactions. Most people believe a hospital would never give you a drug or chemical that is known to be toxic. But of course, every drug has its interactions. I publish this now because without public bug reports, nothing gets fixed.

I wonder if on that day when two women were walking past me on a hiking trail and I heard one very clearly describe gadolinium in angst—I wonder if thousands of people had talked about gadolinium before, but I hadn’t been listening. Or if I had just once again won the lottery. This time, in proper entropic fashion. My last two rolls of the dice had also won me the lottery, but not in the way you would expect. The anti-lottery.

Yeah, gadolinium has been very interesting to me lately. I hear the word everywhere. I was listening to a popular Spotify playlist and in one of the songs, I could swear she’s singing it: gadaaaliniuummm. But my wife pointed out it’s just spanish.

Gadolinium is a heavy metal in the lanthanide group in the periodic table of elements, along with neighboring rare-earth metals scandium, neodymium, terbium, and other metals you've never ever heard of. It’s toxic to the human body. You couldn’t find it if you tried, and generally don't need to worry about encountering it. Unless, that is, you happen to be dabbling with body imaging technologies. MRIs in particular.

The medical complex is expert at euphemisms. They call it “dye.” When you perform a Magnetic Resonance Image (MRI) scan to see what may be going on in your body, they need the result to be colored or "contrasted." They need something to seep through your body and permeate your skin, muscles, and veins, to draw contrast to the background. Wonderful terms, these dyes and contrasts. When really, it’s just a poisonous heavy metal.

I was incredulous when, laying down beneath the MRI scanner, almost naked save a medical gown, the technician approaches my side with a needle and pouch, and tells me to extend my arm out. I thought, wonderful, a hospital with a sense of humor! Ha—good one nurse. Surely there is no IV required for an MRI!? But she wasn’t laughing.

Oh, you’re serious aren’t you? Well then, what on earth is this?

It’s a contrast dye that illuminates the results of your scan.

O..oh. Um. Is this necessary? I wasn’t prepared for this.

Yes, the doctor ordered it. They don’t like to do MRIs without it.

Wha..uh. What are the risks?

1-2% of people get an allergic reaction, but nothing serious. Just drink a lot of water for the next few days to cleanse it out of your system.

The decision I made next would be the single most consequential decision of my life.

Is that ok? If it makes you uncomfortable we can call the doctor.

Na, doc’s a busy guy. Let’s do it. Those odds don’t affect me. I’m not a "1-2%” type person, know what I mean?

You know, when you think allergic reaction, you don’t quite think one long permanent reaction. You think of something that causes trouble momentarily, but dissipates eventually. Your immune system attacks a target it deems malicious, and, in most cases, defeats the antagonist. But what if the antagonist is un-extinguishable? What if you couldn’t simply kill the intruder, because they aren’t living in the first place? What if your immune system targets something as heavy as…metal?

What you have there, my friends, is a lost cause. What you have there is…

🌈Gadolinium Deposition Disease 🌈

Gadolinium is the name of a toxic heavy metal. Deposition is the depositing and permeation of this metal throughout your body. Disease means the host should get comfy with its new friend.

What are the perks of this disease you ask? Imagine feeling radioactive, but without the promise of quantum consciousness. Your skin stings, zaps, and glows with the cold feeling of metal vibrating and slithering through your veins and skin from the moment you wake to the moment you sleep. When in the day it makes its way into your brain, you get what can best be described as brain fog. I like to call it dizziness. You just get dizzy. And all you can do is wait for it to pass. Do you like bone pain? There’s a lot of bone pain with GDD. And a dizzying variety of other symptoms.

My friends and family ask, when I haven’t seen them in a while—how are you doing? Feeling better? Lol. is a good word for my reaction. This is where it helps to remember the “disease” classification. This isn’t temporary.

I’ll be celebrating my sixth month with GDD in a few days. The first three months I suffered emotional catastrophe the magnitude of which I had never experienced before. Before, I was healthy. Or, health wasn’t really something I thought about. But now I’ve had to come to terms with: I have a disease. It’s difficult. I remember crying early on, I’m not ready to have a disease. I’m not ready.

But there are coping mechanisms. As the months begin to pass, what happens is the person who was disease-free begins to fade. The death of my former self. And it pains like the real thing. But as with death, acceptance is inevitable. You stop mourning the loss of your past self because you forget who you were in the first place. In the first few months, I wept for my wife to show me memories of how I had been just two months prior. I could not remember who I was. Was I perfectly happy before all this happened? My wife assured me that she still recognizes me as the same person I’ve ever been, and that “perfectly happy” would not be her first two words of choice. Somehow this is reassuring.

The world of GDD is dark, complex, and, unfortunately, nascent. It’s a woefully experimental field. There is no known cure. And Big Gadolinium will do what they can to undermine the legitimacy and severity of the disease. It’s quite shocking to anyone in the medical community that gadolinium contrast agents would be toxic. “We give it out like candy,” a doctor friend told me. “No way it’s toxic.” But he’s come to learn, as I have, just how perilous this field is.

I suppose I can’t blame pharma-capatalists at their slow response towards complaint of dis-ease from their products. I’ll be honest and say that sometimes even I don’t believe my own users when they tell me of bugs in my product. It takes a large swarm of people experiencing the same issue before I'll finally recognize it as real, and prioritize it. So I guess today I am part of the swarm of users reporting bugs in some pharma company’s product. And they’re at the point of hmm..not sure if I believe you. But more and more doctors are speaking out after recognizing the undeniable harm this long-accepted practice is causing.

One of the world’s foremost experts on radiology and MRIs, Dr. Richard Semelka, having authored numerous papers and university textbooks on radiology, is in fact the author of the 2015 paper first describing Gadolinium Deposition Disease. In a blog he keeps, he talks about the risks and criticisms he’s had to face to speak out against something as widely accepted as gadolinium-based contrast agents. His treatment is a process known as chelation, which involves chemicals that are injected into your body that scour it for heavy metals, which are then redirected to the kidney for excretion via the urinary tract. But there are risks. The treatment is likely what you would call “beta”—some may have bug-free recoveries, others may not. The factors are not all known.

I’ve won the anti-lottery twice so far. First, for a medical procedure performed in 2019 that still causes me some discomfort to this day. And second for the MRI in 2020 to check on that procedure. The disease arising from the latter has quadrupled my previous discomfort and angst.

But, life is handsome. We have the chance to roll the dice once more. Isn’t that something? I can perform chelation treatment for a good chance at recovery, but with a 1-2% chance of making my situation even worse.

Surely you can’t win the anti-lottery three times in a row?

Hold my beer.

January 2022 Update

At the time of writing this post, I was still heavily contemplating chelation therapy. Ultimately, I decided against it. To me, it's like chemical surgery. And I will avoid surgeries like the plague itself. Chelation could make things better, but it could also make things worse. And as uncomfortable as this disease is today, it can definitely be worse. There are people who have had eight or more contrast injections. I just had one. For them, the disease is crippling. People have lost their jobs and relationships. For me, it's painful and uncomfortable. But I can still walk. I can still type. I can still do just about anything. I just can't do it as comfortably as I did before. This I can accept. But I cannot accept walking into another medical setting, getting another medical injection, and walking out worse than I came in. I simply won't take that risk. So I've decided to live with it.

For a more recent recount of my experience, read 2021.


I recently added the ability to view all posts of an author on Listed, having found no such way to do so with the current iteration. In previewing this page on my blog, I began reading some of my older entries from 2017, 2018, and 2019. It had been just the right amount of time for them to read like new to me. I look back at that person in wistful reminiscence—my struggles seem almost romantic from here. But I knew it was hard then too.

  • 2017 was an era of exploring what it takes to build a successful business.
  • 2018 was getting into some groove, but struggling with productivity, clarity, and growth.
  • 2019 is closer to the modern era, which was defined by the painful, regrettable, elective surgery for a topical cyst in April 2019. This would turn out to be the most consequential event of my life.
  • 2020 had only a few scattered stories, none of which have the diary-like qualities of previous years.
  • And 2021 is me being upset about the state of the world, which is an unusual departure from the style of the last few years, in which I had explicitly avoided current events.

In all, the surgery from 2019—almost three years ago—still causes me pain to this day. But this isn’t the worst of it. In October of 2020, unsatisfied with the healing progress, I decided to get an MRI to try to see if there may be something going on under the hood. During the MRI, the technicians—following doctor’s orders, and largely medical protocol—injected a “contrast agent” into my veins as part of the MRI scan, to help get a clearer picture.

The surreptitious injection turned out to be a toxic heavy metal known as gadolinium, and this metal is retained in your skull, bones, and blood for the rest of your life, even from just a single dose. For most, it doesn’t cause any problems. But for some unlucky few, a devastating disease can develop where a permanent immune response is mounted to the permanent presence of gadolinium in your body, causing a heap of painful and unpleasant symptoms every. single. day. It’s a horrible dream that I haven’t been able to wake up from.

The consequence of that injection is the longest, most painful story of my life, but is not the point of this post.

I miss the simplicity of my 2018 conundrums. Just worrying about how to be productive. How to organize my days. Whether to write every day in the morning or in the afternoon. How to improve or grow a product.

Today I’m adulting pretty seamlessly and have no such problems.

I don’t struggle with productivity. I just get it done.

I don’t struggle with personal or professional growth. It’s mostly a straight shot from here.

I don’t struggle with existential angst. I’m comfortable with the uncertainty.

I don’t struggle with boredom. The days are short.

I don’t struggle with my wants, desires, fears, hopes, or goals. It’s all pretty well internalized.

I struggle with pain. Physical, bodily, internal and external pain. The feeling that my body is deteriorating, or not functioning properly. The angst of not knowing what impact this relatively unknown and not widely accepted disease will have on my life expectancy or quality.

The sadness of not knowing to what age I will see my daughter grow.

I was talking to my friends the other night over a game of Rocket League about my condition, wondering how different my life would be if I hadn’t underwent those traumatic experiences. Wondering what I’d be doing that very night if I were "normal" and not dealing with a symphony of physical symptoms and excruciations on a daily basis.

Well, you’d probably be doing exactly what you’re doing now, was the consensus. And they were probably right.

I said I felt unlucky. That if only I avoided this one super rare incident, I’d be living a totally healthy life now, and my problems would just be topical spiritual conundrums circa 2017 and 2018. I could have just coasted until I was 60, developed an old-person’s disease, and died the “normal” way.

My friend, who has worked in emergency rooms and hospitals and has seen all the horrid ways people die, remarked that it’s quite a misconception that people think they will live healthy until 60, then suddenly develop a disease and die. Nope, he said—it’s not sudden. It rarely happens like that. You’re never too young to get a head start. We’re all constantly just…dying.

And these are the kind of thoughts I entertain myself with today.

In looking back at my posts, I saw there were large 6-month gaps of no writings, which could have helped me identify who I was then and what I was struggling with, to help me understand today how different I am from the person I was then—with the hope that I am still perhaps who I’ve always been. So I decided to write this checkpoint.

2021 was me coming to terms with the uncertainty of an “earlier than expected” death.

2022 is at least me writing about it.

Only once

So much practical external has changed in the past few years with direct impact on my life, which, come to think about it, I have not had any say-so in. Why was I not consulted? Why weren't you consulted? Who was consulted? Where's my vote man?

Perhaps I have become too tainted by the charm of smart contracts and the promise of decentralized autonomous organizations, but it appears that if every single collective action is not put to a vote—crippling in efficiency as it may be—then there are necessarily entities that are entrusted to act and enact on their own behest on behalf of the whole. But what kind of design is it that 0.000001% of the population are making decisions on behalf of the whole? Sounds like a system conceived of before computers were.

As an axiom of my own existence, I'd like to be consulted when UX changes are proposed. Sadly, today's sentiment on the matter has shifted towards—or has perhaps always been—viewing the masses as buffoons not capable of being trusted or informed enough to make good decisions. Whether or not this is the case, it is fundamental to understand that if not the masses deciding, it is a select few. In a fantastical world where the collective governing body had no power to act without putting every proposal to public vote, I would prefer the outcome of the collective's psyche than the opinion of the select. I believe one is self-correcting, and the other runaway lunacy.

But, there is hope. I've come to realize that the timescale on which our political simulation runs is not on the order of days, months, or years, but rather generations and millennia. You don't have a vote on every matter. You are the vote. The way you live, your beliefs, your actions, your stances and opinions—this is your vote. You have only one.

If you have a belief, act on it. If you have an opinion, speak it. If you disagree with something, vote by acting in the opposite.

Each generation votes only once. Over time, this shapes and carves our world.

A thousand signs

Outside the place where I lived many years ago in the bustling city was a one-way, dimly-lit side street, branching from the busy road and into the quiet neighborhood. The parking on the street was unpermitted and unassigned, but when I’d walk my dog at night, I’d see the same cars nestling in their usual spot. One of the cars was a small pickup truck with a large caged wagon used to collect metals and scraps for recycling.

The neighborhood was new and old. Of the old was really old; the red-brick building occupying the south side of the street must have been at least 75 years old. On the north side of the street was an abandoned lot with junked cars. One day, with no warning or announcement, a sign spontaneously appeared on both sides of the street. Henceforth, the sign announced, this was to be permitted parking. You must acquire a permit for your vehicle, and display the permit at all times, lest you risk citation or tow.

I had seen the guy to whom the pick up truck belonged. He was in his 60s, but he was active and fit; almost buff. If we caught eyes while walking my dog, he would say hello, and I’d smile and say it back. He used to have a dog, he told me, until he had to give her up because bodily pain and back problems overtook his ability to care for her properly.

I’m no permitting expert, but I was somewhat certain that the city would give him a hard time for his business-sized pick up truck. I wondered where on earth he would park the thing if he couldn’t acquire a permit.

But he had found a different solution to the problem.

As I was walking my dog the next day on the north side of the street, I looked into the abandoned car lot and noticed something spectacular: plopped askew on the ground was a sign, similar to the one I saw the day before. “Permit Parking” it announced. I looked across the street by the big red building, and sure enough, no longer was there the sign that was just there yesterday. Someone had dug it up and thrown it across the street.

Ha, I thought. So now what? If there is no sign to convey that parking requires a permit, how enforceable can it really be? But I thought surely whoever dug up the sign was waging a losing battle. There’s no way you can turn a permit-parking street into a non-permit parking street by just digging up the sign and tossing it out. Like, right?

For the next few days, the same vehicles as ever continued to park where they had always parked. Probably most of their owners never got the chance to see the sign in the first place. Then, just like it had once before, the sign miraculously reappeared. Nope—the sign said—this is definitely permit parking.

Next day—sign was gone. This time not in the abandoned car lot. It had been taken to some remote place, blindfolded, shot, and killed. And the same cars, including the pick up truck with the large wagon filled with junk metal appliances, continued to park, unpermitted. I thought surely this couldn’t go on much longer. Eventually, the rules must be followed. This is not a winnable war.

A few days later the sign reappeared. And the very next day—nay, that same night—the sign was once again missing without a trace.

This must have happened a few more times, until one side finally gave in and accepted defeat.

This whole saga was years ago. I drove by some few months ago to the same street, and there it was, magnificent as ever: the raggedy old pick up truck with its overflowing haul of junk appliances and metal scraps. And, no sign. You, me, anyone could park there, with no permit necessary.

I can never really say for certain if it was the old man that was the sign-murderer. I just assumed he had the most to lose by its presence. But I respected his will for survival. And for saying fuck you, I live here, and I’ve lived here far before this sign and its under-qualified originators ever wished for its existence.

So it seems, that if ever a permit is required of you to perform a certain unalienable action, or to—say—live your life and be where you want to be, a viable course of action is to simply say fuck you. The collective will is immeasurably, unstoppably more powerful than the will of those maliciously designing and edging their way past your most uninfringeable boundaries. A thousand signs have been placed before you.

I know what the old man would do.

The great external

One thing religion does well is externalize blame. Why are you poor/sick/alone? Because god deemed it so. Even more, he may have a special plan for you. This framework of externalizing cause and effect to a third party seems an important dependency of the human process, given its relentless survival against all odds and reason. It is a core human process, because we understand our powerlessness to change most things beyond our diet and morning routine.

If it takes believing for god to exist and manifest, then today god flickers dimly at 35% opacity. For most scientifically minded individuals, there is no god. And there certainly isn’t a reason driving events. Random is a word that has by now beaten most of us into submission. But externalize we must, so if not god, who? Us.

In science, we are god. We did not create the playground, but we play freely within. If you take god out of religion and salt-bae in a dash of science, you end up with a framework which finds less galactic ways to externalize blame.

Today there is a prominent idealogical system, which in the future might very easily be classified as a religion, whose main feature is externalizing blame. The reason you are poor/sick/alone is not because nature is cruel, the world chaotic, and resourcefulness unevenly distributed, but because there are human and systematic forces working to suppress your up-and-comance. The main feature of this idealogical system is that almost any malady can certainly be traced back to an aboriginal or ongoing wrong (a defining feature of most religions).

It may not be the truth, but it certainly keeps the story going. My incredulity at the audacity and mind-bending rational gymnastics this framework takes is likely akin to an observer a couple thousand years ago lamenting traditional Abrahamic religions as pure fairy dust. Sure, you’d have been right, but it wouldn’t have mattered too much.

The simulation ultimately doesn’t like you to think you’re just a flimsy dispensable meat bag swimming in a bloody lagoon. It finds ways to project meaning, and most importantly, causation.

Science client

I wrote a post last week about a concept of freedom which I later deleted. It was too obvious, direct, basic, simple, and I felt dirty afterwards. I like participating in current political trends sometimes with friends, but definitely try to avoid it on the internet. A friend once told me that if you find yourself arguing the same national talking points as everyone else, you’re too plugged in. Someone living their own life in their own world would hardly have any clue what the current trendy debates are. So I’ll aspire to this for myself.

Nonetheless, it’s impossible to shut out current events in recent months and years because it’s no longer abstract the way current events used to be. It used to be that what you saw on the news was far removed from what would actually play out in your life. Today, that gap appears to have all but disappeared. The more it gets closer to me, my home, and my family, the more incited I become to lash out and say something, and just be another annoying voice in the sea of endless internet voices. I’ll try my hands at another approach here that will hopefully make me feel not so dirty afterwards.

In cryptocurrency, there are largely two types of wallet software: there are wallets that download the entire blockchain to your computer (many, many gigabytes), and verify the integrity of every transaction manually and ensure the blockchain is, well, the chain it’s purported to be. Let’s call this a trustless wallet. And there is another type of wallet software that connects to a central third-party that has already downloaded the entire blockchain on their server, and instead conveys to you, “listen, I’ve downloaded this whole blockchain so you don’t have to, and trust me, everything looks good. Here’s your balance.” Let’s call this a trust-me wallet.

Now, if you want to be a fundamentalist and act in the crypto network the way the gods intended—fully trustless and decentralized—you would download a trustless wallet and thus wait like three days for the entire blockchain to be downloaded onto your computer. But after that initial cost, you now run on the network the way it was intended—not trusting anyone but the source of truth itself: the chain.

If you don’t have the time or space for that, and instead want a convenient solution in which you are ok delegating trust to another central, third-party source (which happens to be most people), then you’re likely to end up using a trust-me wallet. This is fine and functional, but is not the “true” use of cryptocurrency, and if 100% of people used a trust-me wallet, cryptocurrency would cease to exist.

The beauty of science, as with the beauty of cryptocurrency, is that it was designed to be trustless and completely decentralized. Nothing “counts” as science unless it’s confirmed (replicated) by all the nodes, just like a transaction in the cryptosphere doesn’t count unless it's mass-confirmed.

In today’s politicized science environment, most casual people run trust-me science clients which regurgitate science emanating from a central source. This is fine, so long as not 100% of people are running this software. You need unreasonable fundamentalists who play the game the way it was meant to be played: lacking central authority (decentralized) and replicable. Science at today’s scale is largely impossible to replicate by individual nodes like you or me. So in most cases we’re forced to pick a central authority and take their word for it.

This isn’t to say science emanating from a central authority cannot be true. It’s only to say that science emanating from a central authority is centralized, third-party science. That there exist fundamentalists in the cryptocurrency ecosystem who say, I reject all trust-me clients and want to run my own node to ensure the long-term integrity of the system, as unreasonable as it may be, is how the integrity of the system is preserved. Without them, these systems could not exist.

The Metaverse

Facebook has recently market-rebranded as a “metaverse” company. Ostensibly because they are a VR company, and there is supposed to be an implicit connection between VR and the metaverse. But the metaverse is not waiting to be built.

It’s already here.

Perhaps influenced by Ready Player One, there is this idea that the metaverse must be in 3D, and can only be experienced in high-fidelity VR. This is nonsense. The metaverse is more like a Pokédex than it is the actual fictional universe that Pokémon inhabit. The metaverse is the rolodex of characters and objects whose ownership is indisputable and infrangible.

Specifically, NFTs on the Ethereum blockchain is the world’s largest decentralized trading game, and is precisely the metaverse that has long been prophesied. It needs nothing more to be so. Does a fictional universe really need 3D renders to be experienced? Can you not read mere words on a page and be excessively captivated by a book? So it is that the JPEGs on the Ethereum blockchain are a universe of characters and items, whose ownership is indisputable, whose objects are hotly desired, and whose characters enthrall you with their personality, backstory, and potential.

This is the metaverse. It’s already here. And its lack of central authority is more beautiful than we could have ever imagined.

No fucking Facebook account required.

There is no team

I’ve come to learn there is no such thing as a “team”. Only very productive individuals. You can’t take a group of average individuals, make a team out of them, and produce above-average results. In fact work quality and efficiency decrease with team size. The most productive unit is the individual.

This is a sort of anticlimactic realization for me. Back when I worked on Standard Notes solo, I had always been mystified by how large teams operate and produce. How did companies like Apple, with team sizes of hundreds and thousands, coordinate to ship frequently and speedily on a consistent basis? From the way I see it now, my answer would be: they hire great individuals. And the rest is automatic. I had a friend who worked at Apple who had likewise been previously mystified by their magic. After he saw what the insides looked like, he said, psht, I could start a company like Apple. He was unimpressed.

There was no magic. There was just a group of individuals working under the same roof.

This also removes mystification from the hiring process: there is no surprise result when hiring and integrating an individual in a team. You will get from that individual exactly their productive power and nothing more. I daresay you also can’t coach, manage, or train someone to be more productive than they innately are or are capable of.

So, to build a great team, hire great individuals. It sounds obvious, but when you’re in the thick of it, it’s kind of not. When you’re on the ground-level not pontificating from a birds-eye view, it’s easy to think a B-player integrated into an A-team still makes for a great result. It won’t. It brings down the group average.

There is no magic. There is no team. There are only really productive individuals. A great team spontaneously forms when a group of really productive individuals collaborate. The magic is in the collective human processing power.

Simulation Overflow: Intervention

In previous posts on simulation theory, I had written with full certainty that our simulation was based on non-interventionist principles. That once a simulation was created, the simulator would not dare interfere in its rote operation as not to taint its outcomes, so that the simulator can observe what interesting results become of each unique fork of a simulation. I had also surmised that the purpose of a simulator creating simulations is for its own intellectual amusement.

I want to make clear that my musings with simulation theory are not just a pastime, but unfortunately what I actually base my spiritual—or lack of spiritual—beliefs on. So it’s quite important that I ascertain I am working with the most reasonable model possible.

An unshakeable thought, however, has recently struck me.

A few months ago I planted a row of several dozen arborvitaes in my backyard, in an attempt to create a privacy barrier between my neighbors and I. The summer here has thus far been dry and rainless, so it was imperative that I gave each plant at least a couple gallons of water 4–5 times a week. For the first few weeks, I was watering the plants by hand. My garden hose flow rate was about a gallon every 20 seconds, so I’d spend about a minute hovering over each plant with the hose until it got its daily dose. Needless to say this was an excruciatingly boring process that sucked me out of half an hour each day.

I decided automation would be key if these plants were to have any chance of survival. So I set up a simple drip irrigation system. You have a long black flexible poly tube that you run through the plants in a horizontal S pattern. Where the tube meets the root of each plant, you pierce a little hole. You connect the tube to your faucet, turn on the water, and droplets of water begin dripping from the holes onto each plant. Slowly but surely, each plant gets its fill.

Initially I had the tube running on the ground level, zig-zagging through each plant in the aforementioned horizontal S formation. On one plant the tube would meet the roots from the front, and the adjacent plant would meet the tube from the back. I had this system running for about a week before noticing the results were suboptimal: only one half of each plant’s root area would be watered. So on some plants only the front half of the soil would be moist, and on other plants, the back half.

I decided to refactor the setup so that instead of zig-zagging on the ground, the poly tube would instead zig-zag through the center of each plant, elevated about 1 foot off the ground. The redesign process was extremely painstaking, but it was the right thing to do. The end result was that each hole in the tube met the plant directly at its center. When the water flowed, drips would begin splatting and hitting the branches and landing in random locations, but overall the distribution pattern meant that I now saw a perfect ring of moistness around the roots of each plant: both halves, front and back, got an equal amount of water. Problem solved.

You see, I had engineered a solution, and when it wasn’t working as expected, I fixed it. I changed things up. I knew what the desired outcome was and found a solution that was more directed towards that outcome.

So why was it with such certainty that I had ascertained in my previous posts that the simulator-thing was non-interventionist, when it could be equally likely that the thing is an engineer? In fact if the universe is fractal and likes to repeat itself at every scale, we are more likely similar to the thing than dissimilar. What does an engineer do when a design isn’t working as expected? The engineer fixes. The engineer engineers.

Does our simulator-overlord fork the universe repository every time it wants to make a change, or does it interject fixes on the master branch? I had previously been cocksure that the thing dare not intervene in a simulation past its initial creation, akin to the watchmaker theory. But if the thing were an engineer, I daresay it probably can’t help itself.

What I like about an interventionist simulation model is that it allows for spirituality, whereas previously I had been at the mercy of a cold and barren scientific interpretation of the universe that made me feel small, helpless, and at the mercy of random unfoldings which you’d be a fool to assign any sentimental value to. While more acceptable in a scholarly scientific setting, I am a human and live my life 99% outside the realm of scientific academia. Science has been absolutely useless to me, if not a harbinger of despair and isolation and a vacuum of meaninglessness.

So fuck it, the simulator intervenes. It grants my wishes when I ask for them. The events that transpire in my life have meaning. My life has purpose.

It seems I’ve arrived at…God…with extra steps.


Some thoughts on science that deeply conflict me:

  • Science largely does not exist at the scale it does today without capital. Science is funded. There is always a money trail. Take away the capital, and the only science being conducted is in high school chemistry classes.
  • Medicinal science is largely built on the homicidal tenet of when “the benefit outweighs the risk.” The risk is presented (but most times not) to you as a percentage: 1% of people who take this drug may experience a serious, non-reversible reaction. When you are afflicted with a condition, do you take the drug, in spite of the risk? The answer is: this frame has not yet been rendered.
  • No single process inside or outside of this universe knows what is going to happen next. Predictions may be made, some with high statistical ground, but they remain predictions. The only way to figure out what the next frame looks like, or next ten frames will look like, is to render them, in order. (This concept is known as computational irreducibility, and pervades a large part of our universe.)
  • Science is two things to two different camps of people: to people who have never experienced adverse reactions to pharmaceutical products or procedures, science is wondrous, and must be pushed forward so long as the benefit to risk ratio is at least 51/49. To the people whom the tail end of pharmaceutical commercials apply to (“talk to your doctor if you experience…”), health science is a con based on manipulating/marketing people to believe that their for-profit pill or procedure can save their life.
  • Science in most cases must be brute-forced to make progress. Progress is made on behalf of the human whole, but often at the expense of individuals. To develop a pill that can save the life of 10,000, you necessarily have to test it on 100 people, 10 of whom will probably die or develop irreversible diseases. To develop a self-driving car technology, some folks are going to have to get run over.
  • There is inhumane non-compassion felt by those largely on a certain side of the political spectrum that do the bidding of pharmaceutical for-profit companies masquerading as Science™. These people hold that for-profit products developed hastily which lead to some number of humans developing cruel conditions must continue to roll out, because the benefit outweighs the risk, while simultaneously holding that even a single life’s suffering is too much.
  • Science is largely at odds with the doctrine of individual liberty. You cannot simultaneously be pro-science and pro-liberty. Science is necessarily authoritarian, or at least very persuasive. You can’t choose what’s in your water, food, and medicine, and any feeling of control is largely an illusion.
  • There is likely no case in any societal setup where you matter above the average health of the population. You are expendable, because this is what it takes to organize large populations. Case in point: vaccine rollouts don’t stop when one or more people experience an adverse reaction. The show must go on. Likewise, most pharmaceutical products are not removed from market when participants experience fatal reactions. Instead, another comma is simply added to the list of reactions.
  • Medicinal products and procedures largely thrive in environments of information asymmetry: you know infinitely less about what is being sold to you than the creators of the product. If you truly knew what a procedure or product did to your body, you probably wouldn’t take it. So euphemisms are developed to make taking out your credit card easier. Case in point: when you get an MRI, they often inject you with a serum meant to help make the scan images clearer. When you ask the technicians what the product is, they give it really cutesy names like “dye” or “contrast”, and tell you that just drinking a lot of water over the next few days will be sufficient to flush it from your system. The truth? Contrasts are injections of the toxic heavy metal Gadolinium in your body. This gadolinium is retained for the rest of your life in your skull, bones, and bloodstream, even from just 1 administration. Some patients experience permanent adverse reactions to the ever-presence of this heavy metal in their body.
  • I believe there is no turning back at this point. Science is necessarily cruel, but it can likely be said that when you zoom out and inspect the stats on a wide enough timespan, the number of lives saved is greater than the number of deaths caused. On the scale of our own individual lives however, science can fuck you up, no matter how careful you are. And what does a world without science really look like anyway? It may very well be that sciencing is the primary “purpose” of this simulation.
  • Science is cruel, because ultimately aging, disease, maladaptive mutations, and death all fall in the realm of science, before we were ever present to write any of it down. This can’t be changed, but there is one thing that can be: the feigning of compassion by those who champion science relentlessly while simultaneously holding that even one life’s suffering is too much. Science and compassion cannot be on the same side of any spectrum. To those who have been on the bloody edge of science’s sword, there is nothing more painful than seeing it championed as an infallible pro-human enterprise, when in most cases it is nothing more than a profit maximizing scheme. So long as the profit is greater than the threshold of discernible unrest and distrust, the show goes on. The existence of for-profit pharmaceutical companies is not an evil. The emergent evil is the conflation of privately funded science as Science proper, and the championing of this for-profit science by the majority-share impressionables who repeat corporate talking points, euphemisms, and studies as gospel, and decry anyone who dare explore any other interpretation as blasphemous and dangerous. The real danger is feigned compassion.


Left versus right is a game of oscillation. The oscillation between the two poles creates heat. The heat creates movement.

The generation of heat, on a societal scale, is difficult and not meant to be easy. It also needs to be a complete game. Each side wants to win, and each side must feel everything is at stake.

Consider were it not this way: maybe you could get lazy, notice you are playing the game, and get away with attempting to generate the minimum heat possible. So when the heatball is in your court, you hang on to it languidly for a bit before tiring or boring and throwing it across. It would seem in this case the heat generated is not capable of much movement. Maybe an inch.

Or consider the counter-scenario in which when your side has the ball, you would literally rather die than see it in the hands of your opponents.

If you want to observe what each side really wanting the ball does for outcomes, then this is a really good game. And: Everyone involved—the simulation-runners and thus the participants—want a really good game, whether implicitly or explicitly.

In less codified words, that you feel the world is worsening or ending because one side is having its way with the ball is the way you’re supposed to feel—the way this game is supposed to make you feel. Because if it didn’t, there would be no game. No game means no heat. And no heat means no movement.

Imagine a solar system spiraling through space. You have the individual planets orbiting some axis in what appears to be fixed motion. But then you have the entire system itself pushing through forward space. In our example, it is the oscillation of these planets that give the system as a whole the momentum to move through space.

I suppose we might ask, where do our own political and social oscillations take us? Is it a progressive forward motion? Is it random zig-zags through unexplored space? Is it backwards motion?

The answer is yes.

In (my) simulation theory, the goal of the simulation is to create amusing results that could not be anticipated or pre-calculated by the simulator. This would create the most compelling simulation for both the runner and the players. Running a simulation which you otherwise know the result and outcome for is like playing the same video game over and over. One would go mad.

To create a great simulation which does not die of its own predictability, the runners have to be perpetually amused by surprising outcomes, and the players then must fundamentally have no idea where the fuck they are or where they’re going.

Is this a nihilistic perspective, or an opportunistic one? Can one believe this is just a game and oscillations in belief are just a means of generating heat, yet still believe that we are progressing towards the total annihilation of human suffering, or is human suffering itself just a function of these oscillations—oil for the machine? Are our own emotions tied to the phased oscillations of the team we play for, or are our emotions heat generation for our own body? Is the motion of human-time forward or random?


Simulation Overflow: Part 2

In Part 1, we established what motives a potential thing running our simulation could have from a universe-sized perspective. We mentioned a thing could be running many simulations, like jars on a shelf.

Assuming there was a purpose of running multiple simulations, what could the thing be solving for?

I would assume the thing had initially run simulations that resulted in fancy arrangements of planetary matter, and was awed at the results, but one thing-day a specific simulation developed something more interesting than it had ever seen before: arrangements of conscious matter.

This spectacular event instantly made any simulation without conscious matter infinitely less interesting, and so the thing killed off experiments that did not contain the spectacle, and began furiously forking the one that did.

One interesting thing about running these simulations is the apparent cheapness of space for the thing. Seemingly infinite lightyears in width, height, and zeight, space and time to a thing could be as cheap as a byte is to us. It’s clear that space is not the precious resource. The thing had seen so many planets, stars, and meteors in all sorts of dizzying formations but could only be entertained so much as a carnival kaleidoscope is entertaining to us.

Life was the precious resource, but admittedly, the thing had at some point likewise seen it all. Tiny single-celled organisms swimming in random patterns that utterly bore the thing.

I suppose you see where this is going: homesapiens were one day born from a jar, and the thing could not help but find this most interesting of all.

Now this seems to be just brilliantly convenient, coming from a human-centric narrator after all. But the axiom of our simulator overthing is that it prefers vibrancy over inanimacy. It prefers to be…surprised. And why wouldn’t it?

In terms of possibility-generation, humans seem most potent. To a thing wanting to be impressed by its experiments, simulations in which conscious matter repurposes light and radio waves to transmit species-oriented information is infinitely more wondrous than an endless showdown of one wild animal eating another and fighting to occupy the territory of all like 1 acre.

We can also assume that as we are at the apex of our own space-time expansion, and that every jar on the shelf of a thing runs time at its apex, then we are subsequently at the apex of time in the outer-jar environment as well. This would mean that because this experiment is still running at the apex of thing-time, it is interesting enough to continue running.

It could be that other simulations have developed something more interesting than humans and their technology, but if we believe that the development of conscious matter which one day leads to humans was so spectacularly surprising an event, then the thing could be in a position where it does not take us for granted. And that all simulations running now have equalized at the point of the inception of the variable that leads experiments here.

I think in the perspective of a thing that wanted to be amused by its experiments, a human species that develops energy-based technology is far more interesting than one that develops impressive copperware. If from our time perspective the emergence of such technology is within our own recent memory, and it is a spectacular event at this apex of time, then it is certainly most spectacular at the apex of thing-time as well. If it weren’t interesting, it would mean there are other experiments yielding more interesting results. Yet this would mean that the thing would likely re-calibrate all previous experiments, including our own, to focus on this other more interesting development.

Yet our simulation is still running.

It could also be that the thing perished eons ago and we’re all fucking alone somebody please help

Techno conservatism

It’s bleak and rainy outside. I woke up earlier than usual this morning, and even before I saw what it looked like outside, my insides matched. So it’s the perfect day to write a rage piece against the bewildering behavior of what I can only describe as techno-conservatism, whose followers seem to absolutely loathe any sort of movement or innovation in the space. Have you seen the comment threads in Hacker News on articles about Signal’s new crypto payments feature? Every single one of them a lambast. Common phrases include scam, pump and dump, no one asked for this, why not use Stripe, why, and an endless barrage of linguistically creative of ways to block the movement of a product towards any particular future.

This isn’t an isolated incident. Perhaps crypto is a heated topic, but almost any sort of groundbreaking technology or innovation in a fast-moving space receives the same treatment. I mention HN because their commenters are usually the most rational. So if on HN comments have devolved into reddit quality, then I fear looking at what’s become of reddit.

But let me try not raging against their rage and instead interpret events from their vantage. At this point I’ve come to understand there is no way this is about the particulars. No matter the topic, you will see the same breed of comments and commenters. And the dissent is always louder than the support—people in favor of, say, cryptocurrencies will be a lot less violent about their support, than dissenters about their condemnation. The single safest thing you could do if you support something controversial is probably keep to yourself. So rationalists are overrun on comment threads, and techno-conservatists thrive.

I think rather than focusing on the particulars, we can break this down into something much simpler: there are two camps of people. Those who believe the world is progressing towards something worse. And those who believe the world is progressing towards something better. Those in the “worse” camp will likely see any event in any space as a sign of the impending doom, and attack it mercilessly like a runaway immune system. And those in the “better” camp can see any event as a sign of the positive future to come.

Crypto is an excellent divider, slicing these groups sharply in the middle. On the impending doom side, crypto is a sign of energy waste, get rich quick schemes, techno-elitism, scams, and a thousand other loosely related consequences. At this point techno-conservatists have gotten so good at rational gymnastics and linguistics that crypto can be linked to almost any major issue. On the better future side, crypto is a sign of financial liberation, decreased power of government, decentralization of currency, and a thousand other tightly related consequences. Techno-progressivists have also gotten so good at the language game that almost any issue can seemingly be solved with crypto—which you believe to be true, as I probably do, if you're on the bright side.

So it’s made me feel a little better to understand that the event absolutely does not matter. It could be Signal adding crypto payments or it could be Facebook creating a cryptocurrency or it could be most anything of the format “X company does Y crypto,” and you will immediately trigger the two camps in their respective manner. The techno-conservatists will put on their thinking glasses and write a compelling thesis on why this move will likely only inch us one step closer towards doom, and the techno-progressivists will, in lower fearful quantities, write their thesis on why this move should be applauded and how it brings us one step closer towards a brighter future.

The techno-conservatist knee-jerk reaction to any innovation they don’t understand or is too sudden and abrupt, and that perhaps other people are getting rich off is, who needs this? Why this thing and not this other preexisting thing? Can we slow down a bit? I mean we’re ignoring all these other million factors. People still don’t have clean drinking water and you want to write more crypto code? In essence: Can we just keep everything as-is for the next 1000 years, because I’m sort of worn out keeping up with all this stuff.

The techno-progressivist knee-jerk reaction to any innovation they don’t understand and others are getting rich off is likely: what’s wrong with me? Why have I overlooked this? Damn, there are people smarter than me who are on top of these things while I’m here watching TikTok? Wait, Moxie, the genius cryptographer behind Signal's and WhatsApp’s encryption is working on this? What a goddamned legend. I’m an absolute idiot for not understanding this or looking into it sooner.

Funnily enough, there’s actually a mathematical way to measure just how idiotic you are. It’s called the price of Bitcoin. If you refuse to touch crypto with a twelve foot pole, you are infinitely idiotic, otherwise your level of idiocy is measured by how high a price you paid for being late. I say this mostly humorously and self-reflectively. In some technologies I am indeed an idiot and have looked into them far later than others. But I suppose that’s key in the distinction between techno-conservatists and techno-progressivists: allowing yourself to be ok with being an idiot. I mean likely you are. There’s no way any one person is not infinitely idiotic with regards to anything they’re not paying attention to. Forgive yourself, accept yourself, and yield to others’ less relative idiocy in a space.

Just yield, man.

How does Naval speak so eloquently?

Have you ever heard Naval speak? He’s been on various podcasts, like Joe Rogan’s and Tim Ferris’. He oozes eloquence. Every sentence he speaks is brand new. Every analogy and metaphor a drop of revelation. I’m not sure if prophets are still made today in the post-Information Age, but he’s one for the ages. It’s not that he’ll just drop one-off quotables during the course of an interview. No—every sentence he speaks is something that twists your mind. Wow, you think—I didn’t know you could do that with the English language, with such few words.

How does he do it?

This topic intrigues me because the topic of prophets as a whole is fascinating. How do normal men in the course of history become superimposed on the human timeline as to be mistaken of extra-terrestrial origin? There are some religious texts—likely all of them—that are pure literary gold. What enables these authors to compose beyond the creative threshold of the time?

What enables Naval to speak more eloquently than others?

Here’s what I think: I think he makes it up as he goes. I think he has no idea what he’s about to say until he says it. Most of what he says is spontaneous and likely not even something he’s heard himself say before. He’s just as surprised and impressed with himself when he speaks as you and I are.

I think it’s the medium that unlocks something special in him. I don’t think Naval could write an essay, for example, as profoundly as he can give an interview. I don’t think he can sing or write a song as profoundly as he speaks. I don’t think he can give as profound a TED talk as he can a profound open-ended interview. I think the medium unlocks something special in him that he himself did not know existed in such packaged and consistent form until such interviews began to occur.

I have a friend who on the phone and during the course of normal spontaneous conversation will speak such profound utterances in such simple ways that I tell him you simply must record yourself speak or publish your works, or something! If the world heard what you're saying, they’d melt for more. The funny thing is, whenever he goes to transcribe this profundity to other platforms, it falls apart. He doesn’t come off as smooth. It doesn’t sound the same when written out, or sung out, or podcasted out. Nope. It only works if it’s on a phone call, and it’s spontaneous, and non-recorded. This is the random mutation that my friend possess, and it’s non-transferrable, and non cross-platform.

I think yet others have other random mutations that allow them to thrive in certain creative environments beyond the threshold. Great singers or songwriters can express themselves more passionately in a song than in an essay or interview. Great writers can express themselves more lucidly in a novel or poem than in a speech. Great artists can provoke thought in a painting or sculpture more than they can in a conversation. Great speakers and politicians deliver more impactful orations in a monologue than via song. Great playwrights and movie directors show a more vivid tale with the lights on than off.

What then is the source of greatness in the works of singers, writers, speakers, and artists? How does an artist paint something exquisite, or a singer compose something beautiful, or a writer write something profound? They simply begin painting, composing, writing, or singing, and their random tint does the rest (and of course years and years of compounding wisdom and experience).

So, how does Naval speak so eloquently? He just begins speaking.