My kitties are a metaphor for social change

Snow Crash, the tabby cat, is not an extropian.

We’ve spent the majority of the week moving–an experience which is, for most cats, traumatic. We’ve relocated from a three-bedroom apartment to a one-bedroom apartment–and we had too much stuff to fit in the three-bedroom, so, as you might imagine, the new place is rather a wreck.

Snow Crash has spent much of the past week in hiding. He quickly learned to open the cabinet beneath the sink in the bathroom, and there he has stayed, hiding from the frightening and overwhelming upheaval in his environment:


Molly, on the other hand, is having a ball. She loves very little more than exploring new places, and the new apartment, with boxes piled to near-ceiling height everywhere, has given her endless little nooks and crannies to explore. She’s had a blast poking her nose into, under, over, around, and through everything she can find, and just to make things even more delightful, it all keeps changing! Every time we come into the new place with another armful of boxes, we rearrange stuff and there’s more to explore! If she could have her way, I’m sure she’d have us move twice a month. I don’t think Molly has stopped purring since we took her over.


According to the Myers-Briggs theory of personality types, the majority of the population, by a wide margin, is “Guardian” personalities. Guardians, the theory goes, are people who favor consistency, conformity, rules, order, and continuity in all things. Guardians are uncomfortable with change, particularly social change; fond of hierarchy; and feel threatened when things stop being like they were. A Guardian is the personality most apt to say things like “We do it this way because that’s how it’s always been done.” Far rarer are personality types which embrace and even thrive on change, which discard systems that don’t work well and refuse to cling to them merely because they are traditional.


Now, you may argue that the Myers-Briggs personality types are flawed. The granularity is poor; there’s a lot of overlap within the personality types…whatever. Be that as it may, there are clearly people in the world who favor continuity over function, who feel threatened by change, who prefer safety and stability even when that stability comes at a cost to others; and there are people in the world who embrace change, who seek to improve the way things are done, who look to drive society forward, technically and socially. And no matter which way you slice it, these two philosophies are inherently incompatible.


America in the dawn of the 21st century is a bad time and a bad place for social conservatives.

On the surface, this may seem like a wonderful time to be a social conservative. The conservatives dominate all aspects of American politics; Fundamentalist Christianity, and the rigid, dogmatic inflexibility that accompanies it, is so powerful that the American president is among its number; the political party to which he belongs has become little more than an extension of the ultraconservative religious right, and has openly embraced and championed the causes of social conservatives. A good time to be a conservative indeed.

But do you feel that? That vibration underfoot? Bet you thought that was the enormous, unstoppable juggernaut of conservative zeal passing by, right? Wrong. That’s a seismic shift. That’s tremendous pressure building up along the fault lines of American social politics. That’s the earliest warning signs of an approaching earthquake that will rearrange the landscape in ways that many people don’t have even the slightest idea about…at least not yet.


You can already see some of it coming. The skirmishes being fought right now over gay marriage, over polyamory, over the asinine and intellectually bankrupt doctrine of “intelligent design,” these are the opening salvos in what will be a long, bitter war whose outcome is already decided.

Every single time the Guardians have waged war against social change–every single time, from the days of Galileo to the end of slavery, from the civil rights movement to women’s suffrage, every single time the Guardians have lost. Change is inevitable. Social progress is inevitable. No matter how many times we go down this road, the result is always the same–the people who have been denied their full and complete participation in society at large win in the end. Always. Gay marriage? Get used to it; it’s going to happen, just as surely as the end of slavery. This is a story we’ve seen before, and no matter how the forces of tradition may scream and fight (and plant bombs and drag people behind pickup trucks), anyone with any understanding of society already knows how this story will end.

And in the grand scheme of things, it’s nothing, really. It will make as much difference as the elimination of ancient and bigoted laws barring mixed-race marriage made–society, if that’s all that changes, continues on more or less as it was before, despite the inane squawkings of a few indignant traditionalists. The sky didn’t fall when women started voting, the world didn’t end when blacks married whites, and the universe won’t collapse when men marry men or women marry women–by and large, it’s just not really going to change all that much.

But that’s only the tip of the iceberg. The social conservatives who fear gay marriage, polygamy, and the teaching of evolutionary theory are missing, as they often do, the real upheaval.

Snow Crash is not an extropian.


Snow Crash is not an extropian. It’s hard to be an extropian when you fear change. Extropians and transhumanists generally have noticed something that other people have missed–the technological and social change gripping the world right now, the shifts in society and gender and economics and politics that are fuelling wars and creating redefinitions in the most basic institutions of Western society, these aren’t like other changes. These are the tip of the iceberg–because now as never before in human history, technology is changing in ways that are increasingly rapid and increasingly unpredictable. We’re nearing the really bendy part of the exponential curve, the part where things start getting really, really interesting.


We like to think we’re advanced. We like to think the Information Age is a marvelous new thing, that we’re enlightened and advanced far beyond those poor primitive savages who lived, oh, a hundred years or so ago. In reality, this is nothing like the truth. The most advanced technology we possess today is still embarrassingly primitive, still just a notch or two up from flint knives and bearskins. Our ability to make things is still horrifically crude, wasteful and inefficient, little more than increasingly sophisticated variants on the same old primitive themes we’ve been using since far before the Industrial Revolution. But that’s changing, and if you think that wars for oil and social chaos because a couple gay men in San Francisco want to marry each other are a big deal, you ain’t seen nothing yet.


Back in the 1800s, the official stance of many religions was that black people did not have souls. This was a socially convenient stance, because if these people didn’t have souls, then they weren’t really people at all; the thing that separates man from the lesser animals, it was reasoned, was possession of a soul, so if black people didn’t have souls, then that cleared the way for exploiting them the same way one might exploit an ox.

It was all bullshit, of course. Wasteful, appalling, immoral, costly bullshit that required a major war and at least two civil rights movements to fix. But let’s think about this for a moment. If we find it so easy to deny personhood to an entire class of people based on the color of their skin, imagine how easy it will be to deny personhood to an entire class of people based on the fact that they are birthed outside a womb. Or uploaded into a machine. And if you think these things are impossible sci-fi fantasies, you’re not paying attention.


In the past, social change has generally meant changes in religious traditions, or changes in civic arrangements, or changes on political or economic structures–prompted, usually, by changes in technology. We’re on the horizon of changes in what it means to be human–changes in how we see ourselves, changes in how we think about the very things that separate us from other animals, changes in those things which differentiate us from every other form of life we know about. And oh, my God, is that going to make people upset.

We are social beings; we live in a social landscape every bit as real and relevant as the apartment my cats are in. Right now, we are where the cats were a couple weeks ago–a few little things are changing, stuff is disappearing from the shelves and cardboard boxes are appearing on the floor. Something’s up. We have an advantage over the cats, though; they could not possibly hope to anticipate the cataclysmic rearrangement of their lives that was coming, whereas we can, if we have the wit to do it, look ahead and see that these things are signals of a greater change than we might imagine, and see that our entire environment is about to be turned upside-down.

Most people fear this. Most people can’t even handle the idea of a trivial rearrangement to what the word “marriage means, much less complete redefinition of what the word “human” means.

Snow Crash is not an extropian. Molly, though, very well might be. And there’s a lesson in there.

Snow Crash was, and still is, traumatized by the move. Molly could not possibly be more delighted. The move was inevitable; neither one of them could have done anything to stop it. But one of them is happy and the other is not, and the choice about which to be is a choice we can make.

Shelly argues that you don’t have to be a neophile to be a transhumanist. That may be so, but it certainly helps. And in times like these, those of us who embrace change, who welcome it and adapt to it, have an enormous advantage over people who don’t.

Because it’s late, and I’m tired, but I have pulled a muscle in my neck and can’t sleep…

…I give you a random collection of pictures to look at.

First, Molly, the new kitty, sleeping on the couch…

And also, S, in Ybor City, handcuffed to a wall…

Faith can move mountains? Not quite.

You hear it all the time. If a person had as much faith as a mustard seed, then that person can move a mountain. Faith is all you need. Faith can work miracles. Right? Right?

Weeeeeeeellll…no.

Sorry. It sounds nice, it appeals to that part of us that wants dominion over the natural world, but…it ain’t so. Hate to have to break it to you, guys. It just plain ain’t true–at least, not in the way that people think it’s true.

Now, don’t get me wrong. Having a belief that something is possible is a prerequisite to doing that thing; if you don’t think you can do it, you ain’t gonna try. Faith, at least faith of the “I believe this is within the realm of the possible” variety (rather than the Mark Twain “Faith is believing what you know ain’t so” variety) is necessary and essential to anyone who wants to move a mountain.

But it doesn’t stop there. If you have faith that you can move a mountain, but that’s all you got, then the mountain ain’t moving. Ain’t no way. You see, it takes more than faith–you have to have faith the task can be done, but then you also have to do the work. (Moving mountains, just for the record, is backbreaking work. Mountains are big. I mean, really, really big. Tens of millions of tons of rock, and you gotta move it all from here to there.) Faith alone will get you butkis; the way faith moves mountains is by enabling you to do the work it takes to move a mountain, giving you the belief that you can figure out how to get it done.

In the case of literally moving a mountain, having faith that you can do it is what gets you started; but from there on, you still have a whole lot of work to do. It helps to have one of these:

Now, this machine required a lot of faith to build. It took faith that such a huge (and expensive!) project was possible. It took faith that it would work. It took faith that it would work and do so in a way that was more efficient than just spending the same amount of money on a whole bunch of people with shovels.

Faith is the first step, but if you believe faith alone can move a mountain, you’re deluding yourself. Faith without work is nothing; faith without the investment it takes to get things done is pointless narcissism. Faith may get the ball rolling, but it’s work, not faith, that gets the mountain from wherever it is to wherever you want it to be.


Now, this is true of any task, even something a lot smaller and closer to home than activist geology. A person who tells you that faith can make a relationship, for example? Bullshit. Relationships don’t succeed by faith. Relationships succeed because the people involved have invested in good communication skills, a suite of problem-solving and conflict-resolution tools, integrity, trust, honesty, self-knowledge, compassion, and respect. It is those things, not faith, that build a good relationship. It requires a belief that a good relationship is possible and desireable to make the other things seem worthwhile, but it’s not faith alone that does the job.

Faith can move mountains? Hogwash. Faith, of and by itself, can’t move a paper clip.

By the way, if you see the Buddha on the road, kill him. 🙂

The weird, weird, weird weekend…and tits!

Okay, so.

The weekend started innocently enough. Saturday, zensidhe and fangly celebrated the anniversary of their creation in some sinister government laboratory and their birth, respectively; the theme of the party was “Mad Scientist,” which afforded many photo ops I may eventually get around to posting. Alcohol, guns, goth chicks, datan0de in a lab jacket…all the usual things one might expect from a party at zensidhe‘s place.

Now, ordinarily, a party at zensidhe‘s place would provide enough material for several LiveJournal entries, not to mention a couple police reports and a sexual escapade or two of the kind that creates moments you look back on later and plow into a parked car. Sunday, though, brought something that has distracted Shelly and I since, so I can’t really post appropriately about the party.


“What did Sunday bring?” I hear you ask. Well, thanks for asking! Sunday brought this:

Shelly and I went for a walk in the park late Sunday evening. This particular park is in downtown Tampa, and while we were on the back stretch of the park, we heard a meowing behind us. We turn around, and this kitty comes running at us as fast as her little kitty legs will carry her, and launches herself into Shelly’s arms, purring madly. She was skinny to the point of being gaunt and very dirty, and we didn’t have the heart to leave her. We carried her the three quarters of a mile or so to the car, and she never protested except to hiss and spit whenever anyone else walked by. Kind of weird.

Now, I was worried that our other cat, Snow Crash, would cause a big problem. We rescued him as a kitten last Christmas (what is it with national holidays and cats with us???!!), anbd he’s quite aggressive and playful. I needn’t have worried. As soon as we got home, the new cat proceeded to terrorize the living bejeezus out of Snow Crash, even though he’s eleven pounds to her five. We named her “Molly,” after the character in William Gibson’s Neuromancer.

And…and…and…

It looks like she’s pregnant(!).


Monday, Shelly and S and I went to Orlando to visit with S‘s other boyfriend and to connect with nihilus, phyrra, and some friends of theirs for dinner and fireworks. The dinner was good, the fireworks were spectacular, I got one of the very few good pictures I have of S:


And I promised tits in the title. Since everyone1 knows the only way to get people to read large swaths of text is to offer them tits, without further ado, I present phyrra at zensidhe‘s party:

Look! Tits! (Borderline not-safe-for-work, depending on how liberal your work environment is)

I think the space aliens are trying to communicate with me

I see it everywhere–little hidden messages, secrets attempts at communication which are clearly meant only for me. They’re all around me, really. Written on scraps of paper, scrawled on the sides of buildings…I mean, what else can it be?

But I can’t figure out what they’re trying to say. Take this message, for instance, which the aliens left for me on my way to a client’s site a few days back:

What does it mean? What’s the significance of the mysterious number “452,” and where do they want me to take them to? I wish space aliens were less cryptic.

An evening at the Castle

So, Friday night Shelly, nekidsteve, phyrra, nihilus and I all headed out to the local goth club for some dancing.


Shelly, in goth attire.

Goth chicks gone wild (images not visible to those of you with an IT department that uses blocking software, sorry!)

Check out the hot goth chick!

Shelly’s new ‘do:

Apologies to you poor souls surfing at work who can’t see these images; my Web site is blocked by CyberSitter, SurfPatrol, and Novell Border Patrol…

It happened last Thursday…

So there I am, in my office, when suddenly I hear this godawful loud “BANG!” and the entire building shakes. It feels like the building’s been hit by a lightning bolt or a bomb’s gone off or something. I stick my head out the door, look around, don’t see anything, and go back to work.

Ten minutes later, i hear noise outside, I stick my head out the door again, and see this:

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World of Warcraft Madness!

World of Warcraft is actually quite a lovely game. Blizzard has done a good job with the “look” of the game, not trying for photorealism but not cartoony either. These images (rather old; my character is significantly higher level now) come from a low-end video card without advanced texture or shader support; on a higher-end system, the visuals are even better.

I love the atmospherics; the environments they’ve created are both exceptionally diverse and quite pleasing to look at.

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