This was to a friend of mine, that includes an email to another friend of mine, who shall remain nameless...for no particular reason. Well, they're both really smart girls who happen to be scorchingly hot. THEY'RE MINE. STAY BACK OR DIE.
I'm going to use the scientific method on you now. I don't really remember all the steps, so I'm going to boil it down to this:
1. Form a hypothesis and tell people about it like it's already fact
2. Gather data
3. See how that data supports my hypothesis
4. Figure out what I did wrong
5. Gather more data
6. Repeat steps 3 and 4
7. Keep gathering data till some fragment of the sample supports my hypothesis
8. VOILA! Science!
So, my hypothesis is that you desperately want to have sex with me. The supporting evidence I have thus far is a) I have a big cock, which you want, and b) I've called you twice in the last couple of weeks and never heard back. You are clearly playing hard to get. You're not fooling anyone here. Now, I need to gather more data, so let's get naked.
In other news, I finished Rainbow Six and Robotech: Battlecry on the train to and from work in the last month or so (books you don't care about), and finished Animal Farm two days ago and have started on Brave New World today (books you'd BETTER care about). In the first few pages of Brave New World, they speak of how via x-ray manipulation and other nonsense, they can get as many as 80 or so humans out of ONE fertilized egg, and they are all identical twins. The even got 16,012 people out of one ovary. They are using this to create a more stable, uniform society. If you've read the book, I'm boring you, but if not, it's really interesting so far.
Animal Farm had the most boring, dry Foreword and Introduction I think I've ever read. The story itself was plenty good, though a bit depressing by the end. Poor Boxer. Poor Communists! They meant well. If you want to have a discourse about these books, or about how bad your lust for me burns in your upper thighs, email me back.
P.S. Meet my friend Sallie (philosophy and lit junkie, videogame nerd, and full-time hottie), and read her bit on whether robots can be taught emotions. Go here. If you need any more incentive, she has pictures on her site of her kitties, Bjork and Peeko. I can HEAR you having a cute-gasm.
P.P.S. Here's my response to her piece on robots and emotions. Go read that first (see above for link) and then come back and read this.....
I checked your web page today and the bit on robots possibly having emotions. I think it's entirely possible. I've been a believer for a long time that everything about us, even our creativity, is simply an amalgamation of everything we've experienced, consciously and subconsciously. True creativity is putting together things in a way that hasn't been seen before, or in a long time, at least. But you're essentially still recombining pre-existing things. Wanna "invent" a word? You're using a pre-existing language. A song? The same notes that have existed for centuries. A work of fiction? Language and personal experience!
As a creative person myself, this kind of thinking should be depressing, but it's not, if only because I'm a "why" hound, and knowing the reason for something does nothing but strengthen it for me. However, the "why" of these "emotion" things is always a problem.
So we've come full circle. While I think every human expression and condition is purely a biochemical reaction to some stimulus, there are those instances that try utterly hard to defy categorization, like loneliness, loss, and homesickness. Still, they can most likely be chocked up to comfort zones and familiarity, something we all seek as living beings, be it a location or simply a person who affords you regular and pleasurable physical contact (not strictly sexual, either).
Metallica has a song called 'One' in which a soldier loses sensory input and is struggling for some evidence that he's even alive and/or how to kill himself. One part goes as follows:
Darkness, imprisoning me, all that I see, absolute horror.
I cannot live, I cannot die, trapped in myself, body my holding cell.
Landmine has taken my sight, taken my speech, taken my hearing.
Taken my arms, taken my legs, taken my soul, left me with life in hell.
Without any sensory input, how does one experience anything, and thus know or FEEL anything? And the whole notion of the soul, while tragically romantic, is nonsense.
Now, your homework assignment is to tell me what you think of organized religion. :) I have a few of my own theories to disprove the existence of god, yet I can still empathize with people who cling to their faith for dear life. It's a weird thing, and it all has to do with imprinting when you're a young 'un. Your turn!