creativity MONTH
-
This is an excerpt of a creative piece im currently writing (about ~1/5 of my work so far). This was most of what I wrote today
I’m sure you're familiar with the riddle, “if a tree falls in a forest and no one is around to hear it, does it make a sound?” It’s quite a fun little problem to consider when you really think about it.
In one sense, no, it does not make a sound. Looking at the definition of sound, there needs to be someone or something – like a tape recorder – on the receiving end of the vibrations in the air in order to interpret the noise as the sensation of sound. So, taking the riddle at face value, let’s assume there are absolutely no recording devices, people or creatures with human-like hearing within this forest. A tree falls, and a crowd of outside observers don’t perceive a sound, let alone a physical disturbance. To this group, the sound does not exist and indeed never existed, and therefore the tree made no sound.
But in another sense, of course it made a sound. Waves of vibrations are inevitably and undoubtedly created as the tree moves through space, disturbing the air, impacting with its neighbours, casting off branches and needles before slamming into the ground. It’s absurd, you could argue, that something doesn’t exist simply because a human didn’t aurally perceive it. If you walked past a fallen tree, you wouldn’t think to yourself “what a sneaky devil, falling so quietly”. Indeed, you could probably imagine the sounds it made as it fell.
I feel this is only further illustrated if you follow this line of logic:
Once the tree has reached critical mass – whether from something happening to it or a force acting upon it – its fate is sealed and it is doomed to fall. This is simply a matter of the tree moving from a state of potential to kinetic energy, and a byproduct of its kinetic energy is sound. It doesn’t matter if no one is there to hear it or every person on the planet is; just as the impetus for the tree’s demise seals it’s unfortunate fate, so too does it ensure sound will be made, regardless of there being a listener or not. Laws of physics don’t suddenly cease working just because humans aren’t around to witness them, do they? Just ask the deer who fled in fear of its life once the tree started keeling over, or the owl who hissed in annoyance at being woken by such infernal racket!
Well, I put to bed that quandary, didn’t I? Behold the powers of science and logic! That’s all folks.
…
Well, not really. This was originally my take on the riddle, until I rather ironically realised I had missed the forest for the trees.
Because, to put it bluntly… We can’t ask the fucking deer, can we? Or the owl or the laws of physics? Even if we could somehow corner the deer and convince it we aren’t going to put it on a spit, it’s hardly going to break out into fluent Chinese, English or Mokilese, is it? And frankly it doesn’t even matter if the deer does scream some perfect Shanghainese at us. If humanity hasn’t perceived the sound, neither the laws of physics or even a magic deer fucking matter because – simply – it doesn’t exist to us, and things which exist in our collective memory is ultimately all that matters to us as people, so therefore the sound may as well have never existed at all. This isn’t a riddle of physics or logic or shockingly even deer, but of human perception, which is emotional, illogical and deeply flawed and personal. Yes, lots (notably not all) of us can abstractly understand physics means the falling tree always makes noise, but science and logic doesn’t matter at all when the riddle is fundamentally an interrogation of human knowledge, perception and understanding. For all intents and purposes, the tree did not make a sound, and therefore the sound never existed at any point in time, because we are humans and what we know is most important and what we don’t know doesn’t matter until we know it at which point it might be important or it might just be a tree sound that we happened to hear on our hike last week.Fun little riddle, huh?
… Or maybe I’m going too deep, and the curtains are just blue.
*end
This is a much more substantial piece than I am likely to complete for the subsequent month, but I was extra motivated today when writing! Welcome everyone to creativity MONTH, and thank you for being a part of it. Very excited to see what all you talented people make in the next month
-
here's a short story I wrote. it's about working ^_^
"New Job"
I got a new job recently. It's a good job. I work at a facility. Every day I drive to the facility, which is a large, nondescript building, and I unlock the door with a badge, which is plastic and has some sort of chip embedded inside which allows me to hold it up to the door and make it light up and let me in. Not everyone gets to go inside the facility. Access to the facility is controlled. That makes me feel secure during my workday.
When I'm inside the facility, I often greet my coworkers. They're great. We exchange friendly pleasantries and smiles and if we don't have time for that we wave at each other briefly or sometimes nod. But everyone will at least nod. I think that's great. Our shared social bonds summate to a great company culture which fosters collaboration and teamwork. I associate my coworkers with warm feelings and qualities such as kindness, friendliness, and helpfulness, among others.
That spirit helps us deliver value. We're fiercely determined to deliver value through our work. One of the things that makes working at the facility unique is that there's an understanding that above all else, we're responsible for delivering value. I can honestly say I have never been part of a workplace that is better calibrated to what value is and how to deliver it than the facility. It's inspiring.
I'm calibrated on delivering value. So, I make my way to my desk and take a seat. The chairs are so comfortable; I think they are produced by one of the top-decile office supply companies. They're simple, not particularly flashy, but efficient - they deliver value in their comfort and sleek, understated design, at what I can only imagine is an appealing price point. Sometimes, before I start working in earnest, I sit back in my chair and consider my chair as an object and a source of inspiration. The facility encourages abstract thinking for its own sake. Additionally, I enjoy it because it stimulates neuroplasticity, which is a trait highly correlated with delivering value.
Then, the work begins. I pull out the device, as well as the companion device which works in tandem with the device, as well as the peripherals, and I power on the device and connect it to the network. I complete my authentication (this is good - it prevents unauthorized access to facility materials) and I'm greeted by the warm glow of the workspace. It consists of several programs; the specifics depend on your role. Some of them are simple, sleek and polished; others, complex and hopelessly inscrutable. The contrast between them is refreshing and makes for an exciting work environment. Some of them allow for communication with your coworkers; opportunities for collaboration abound.
Work typically consists of using one of the programs to achieve a specific goal. Sometimes a goal may require multiple programs, and in certain cases it may even require the orchestration of several resources. Meetings will be held on a regular cadence to discuss goals and keep track of the progress of the resources assigned to the goals. Today, I'm working towards a clear and straightforward goal. I have no blockers, progress is continuing as anticipated. The team in charge of orchestration and planning did an excellent job with this goal; they made sure I had everything I needed to succeed and deliver value.
At lunch, I sit with my coworkers and eat a ham sandwich and a small package of potato chips. We unanimously agree that meetings can occasionally be a distraction from delivering value, and also that our favorite color is gun-metal gray.
I continue to work at my desk for a few hours. My goal is nearing completion; I have some down time, so I go to a website and watch videos of industrial accidents. I've seen most of these already. One of them is new, and features a woman being torn slowly in two by a pair of enormous robotic arms while she howls and screams and screams. I can tell it's AI though, because of a reflection in the background, and also the machine seems impractical and unrealistic. Nothing like that has ever happened at the facility - not even once.
Five o'clock rolls around. It's time to begin winding down on my goals. I accomplished a lot today, and I feel good. I pack up my things and decommission my workspace, and an acceptable amount of time past the hour, I leave the facility with pleasantries, waves, smiles, and nods to my coworkers, teammates, and fellow resources.
On the drive home, I think about my life and future, and how I should use the compensation that I receive in return for the value I create, and what I should do. For some reason when I think about this the back of my neck gets hot and prickly, and my chest starts to hurt, and I find myself hunching over and clenching my teeth. And, as I'm distracted from my goal by those unwelcome sensations, some kind of small animal, some furry thing, chooses exactly the wrong moment to try to run across the road, and my car intercepts it with an undeniable tha-thump that tells me that its soft, weak, imperfect, irrational, unknowable biological body has been dominated, permanently, by the unstoppable force of a great machine.
The rest of my drive home is peaceful and uneventful. -
here's a short story I wrote. it's about working ^_^
"New Job"
I got a new job recently. It's a good job. I work at a facility. Every day I drive to the facility, which is a large, nondescript building, and I unlock the door with a badge, which is plastic and has some sort of chip embedded inside which allows me to hold it up to the door and make it light up and let me in. Not everyone gets to go inside the facility. Access to the facility is controlled. That makes me feel secure during my workday.
When I'm inside the facility, I often greet my coworkers. They're great. We exchange friendly pleasantries and smiles and if we don't have time for that we wave at each other briefly or sometimes nod. But everyone will at least nod. I think that's great. Our shared social bonds summate to a great company culture which fosters collaboration and teamwork. I associate my coworkers with warm feelings and qualities such as kindness, friendliness, and helpfulness, among others.
That spirit helps us deliver value. We're fiercely determined to deliver value through our work. One of the things that makes working at the facility unique is that there's an understanding that above all else, we're responsible for delivering value. I can honestly say I have never been part of a workplace that is better calibrated to what value is and how to deliver it than the facility. It's inspiring.
I'm calibrated on delivering value. So, I make my way to my desk and take a seat. The chairs are so comfortable; I think they are produced by one of the top-decile office supply companies. They're simple, not particularly flashy, but efficient - they deliver value in their comfort and sleek, understated design, at what I can only imagine is an appealing price point. Sometimes, before I start working in earnest, I sit back in my chair and consider my chair as an object and a source of inspiration. The facility encourages abstract thinking for its own sake. Additionally, I enjoy it because it stimulates neuroplasticity, which is a trait highly correlated with delivering value.
Then, the work begins. I pull out the device, as well as the companion device which works in tandem with the device, as well as the peripherals, and I power on the device and connect it to the network. I complete my authentication (this is good - it prevents unauthorized access to facility materials) and I'm greeted by the warm glow of the workspace. It consists of several programs; the specifics depend on your role. Some of them are simple, sleek and polished; others, complex and hopelessly inscrutable. The contrast between them is refreshing and makes for an exciting work environment. Some of them allow for communication with your coworkers; opportunities for collaboration abound.
Work typically consists of using one of the programs to achieve a specific goal. Sometimes a goal may require multiple programs, and in certain cases it may even require the orchestration of several resources. Meetings will be held on a regular cadence to discuss goals and keep track of the progress of the resources assigned to the goals. Today, I'm working towards a clear and straightforward goal. I have no blockers, progress is continuing as anticipated. The team in charge of orchestration and planning did an excellent job with this goal; they made sure I had everything I needed to succeed and deliver value.
At lunch, I sit with my coworkers and eat a ham sandwich and a small package of potato chips. We unanimously agree that meetings can occasionally be a distraction from delivering value, and also that our favorite color is gun-metal gray.
I continue to work at my desk for a few hours. My goal is nearing completion; I have some down time, so I go to a website and watch videos of industrial accidents. I've seen most of these already. One of them is new, and features a woman being torn slowly in two by a pair of enormous robotic arms while she howls and screams and screams. I can tell it's AI though, because of a reflection in the background, and also the machine seems impractical and unrealistic. Nothing like that has ever happened at the facility - not even once.
Five o'clock rolls around. It's time to begin winding down on my goals. I accomplished a lot today, and I feel good. I pack up my things and decommission my workspace, and an acceptable amount of time past the hour, I leave the facility with pleasantries, waves, smiles, and nods to my coworkers, teammates, and fellow resources.
On the drive home, I think about my life and future, and how I should use the compensation that I receive in return for the value I create, and what I should do. For some reason when I think about this the back of my neck gets hot and prickly, and my chest starts to hurt, and I find myself hunching over and clenching my teeth. And, as I'm distracted from my goal by those unwelcome sensations, some kind of small animal, some furry thing, chooses exactly the wrong moment to try to run across the road, and my car intercepts it with an undeniable tha-thump that tells me that its soft, weak, imperfect, irrational, unknowable biological body has been dominated, permanently, by the unstoppable force of a great machine.
The rest of my drive home is peaceful and uneventful. -
dont have enough prestige to post videos unfortunately so heres i drew in class today. in case you cant tell its two of my friends as an ostrich/egg
-
playing dumb to dumpsters
delulu things I say on my trash route:
- the needle that stuck me was for insulin
- every cat that jumps in the dumpster jumps out
- it is my hair tickling my neck
- the filthier the trash can, the cleaner the house
- starting fluid is only used for engines
- rainwater is leaking down into my shoes
- people throw out pillows for other reasons than bedbugs
- my socks are made from a particularly itchy blend
- rice can wiggle a little bit
- the elderly woman that hasn’t had her trash at the curb for a few weeks is visiting family out of town
not much of a poem but something for day 1
-
Is anyone else tired of hearing about f***ing Epstein?
I feel like everyone's carrying around a giant shame bubble because everyone expects you to be a "perfect person".
Washing my hands until cuts open up because I don't want to infect anyone else.
Trying to understand my need to be liked and why I'm drawn to people who don't seem as interested (even if they went to Stanford).
I had a dream that I was willing to be seen by someone from my past even though I possibly have a bad reputation. I chose to stop hiding. -
playing dumb to dumpsters
delulu things I say on my trash route:
- the needle that stuck me was for insulin
- every cat that jumps in the dumpster jumps out
- it is my hair tickling my neck
- the filthier the trash can, the cleaner the house
- starting fluid is only used for engines
- rainwater is leaking down into my shoes
- people throw out pillows for other reasons than bedbugs
- my socks are made from a particularly itchy blend
- rice can wiggle a little bit
- the elderly woman that hasn’t had her trash at the curb for a few weeks is visiting family out of town
not much of a poem but something for day 1
-
-
It should have been hot
It was decidedly not
Maybe sometime else -
today's lunch is "egg drop soup - the octo way"
my dad used to make egg drop soup a lot and I didn't "get" it but now I get it. it's a good food on the effort/reward graph. it's "pareto efficient". also it's a really pleasant meal and very easy to make and enjoy. you should make it yourself and seeingredients:
some - ginger
some - garlic
a - potato
some - chicken stock
a - scallion
splash - chinese black vinegar
splash - hot sauce
spash - soy sauce
some - gelatin (due to addiction to adding gelatin to soups and stocks etc.)finely chop garlic + ginger on your plastic cuttingboard that will imbue your food with microplastics. think about that factoid about humans having enough plastic in them to constitute a credit card, but do not let this spur you to action. fry briefly in a saucepan in whatever fat you have, but garlic in butter smells really good so you should do that. add stock (optionally add gelatin to cold stock before putting in to let it hydrate so you get a nice rich texture
) add a grated potato, you're supposed to just use potato starch or corn starch or something starch but I figure you should just add a whole potato, who are we kidding here, carbs are good for you and also it's raining out today and I want to eat something hearty. but you can easily omit the potato, honestly that might be better unless you specifically want to add a potato (which I do). simmer for like some amount of time until you get particularly bored or hungry. if you added the potato try to go for at least 20 minutes so it breaks down a bit, otherwise it can be way less. we're almost at the end. make sure the soup is on a mild simmer. beat the shit out of several eggs and pour the beaten eggs bit by bit into a spoon and fling them into the soup to make egg ribbons (this is fun - you need to do this part in a way that is fun or else you may as well be a dead person, you may as well be chatgpt on legs). put in bowl. slice a scallion (it recently came to my attention that australians, if I recall correctly, have a different understanding of what a scallion is than us americans. if you are australian - I don't mean that scallion) up into little slices and use them for garnish. steal your roommate's chinese girlfriend's black vinegar and add it along with some hot sauce to make a kind of hot and sour soup. eat.[I] ate the [soup].
There must be something very beautiful in my body,
I am so happy.- James Wright, Northern Pike (paraphrased by octo)
-
saw some poems here, i thought they were pretty dope, but they didnt line up with what i generally consider a poem. im no poet but i tryed to write a poem how ive always seen them to be.
Up all last night thinking
About what i saw as i was blinking
if light is color then what is without
Others say nothing but i cant help but doubt
Last night i saw colors of lush forests and soaring visions
a future full of love and heart wrenching decisions
What it means i still ponder
but i now know that even in darkness there is wonder
and if i could reach out and speak to the darkness
It would ask me this
what is life without death
or an ocean without its depth
a jump when theres no gravity
thinking when your deep in depravity
but now as i close my eyes i see colors of bright
possibilities with no end in sight -
so i was gunna wait to do another thing, but i really enjoyed writing that first poem. it felt easy for me to get my words and thoughts out. at least in a way that didnt make me feel vulnerable. and as its now the next day for me, even if its only by an hour and a half, i took the time to write another.
Can't wait in line
Can't wait in line
I feel as if I'm in a world without time
My patience has forever been waning
Thoughts wriggle out my brain like worms after its been raining
I'm stuck in line
I'm stuck in line
I say I'm okay, if you ask I'm fine
But if you really look inside I'm crying
I'll say I'm fine I'll keep lying
Too much burdens to carry alone
But I don't know who to call or how to atone
Thoughts whirling in my brain like a hurricane or cyclone
Cant wait in line
Cant wait in line
Everybody took what's mine
At least that's how I've been feeling
Smoking weed, that's how I've been healing
But my wounds don't close so easily
