The Second Coming of the Ubermensch: Human Holocaust

If you thought the previous post was a bit deep, then, unfortunately this one is going to be as well. It is much a logical continuation of the ideas set out before.

You may remember that I said there is nothing that makes humans any more special than thermostats, except for the fact that we have many many more mental predicates than they do. The limit to their mental states is that of temperature distinction, followed by the action of temperature regulation. It's about as basic as mental processes can get, but we still do not have anything like a soul that distinguishes us; consciousness is only the act of being awake. The logical conclusion for this then is artificial intelligence, i.e. humans created from other means than sexual reproduction. It is often agreed that everything in the world is physical; that there is no such thing, as Descartes suggested, as a non-physical, thinking substance. Yet the idea of artificial intelligence is generally scoffed at. Well, just take a closer look at connectionist psychology with regards neural networks and the progress that can be seen in that field. Sure, at present, it takes the most powerful systems and the painstaking task of altering and tweaking parts of the network just to get the machine to read a word. But, remarkably, the machine is learning how to talk, not just repeating what it has been programmed to say, like, say in cognitive psychology, which, sorry to spoil it for everyone, is complete and utter bollocks.

Now that I've got that part of the masterplan off of my chest, I shall continue in the same vein. As a species, we're pretty shit. We are almost entirely based on individualistic gain, egotism and personal vanity resulting in cruelty. Our greatest problem is that we are barely an improvement on the apes from which we've evolved. We are constantly in a battle between ourselves to be the best, and this results in quarrels and wars. This is the human and animalistic way, and it derives from sex being the method for procreation.

At this point, you're probably thinking, "What a load of wank! This is as pointless as Stephen Hawkin's treadmill". Hear me out though. When we hone the ability to clone or create a species with as complex mental processes as us, then I suggest we should simply lay down and die. We are the only species to be able to create the conditions for a superior race to succeed us, by eradicating the natural forms of procreation. We get far too bogged down in vanity and thinking that love is something to desire. This will no doubt offend those who will not open their minds, but the notion of reducing sex to only its purest pleasures is hedonistic, but ideal. And for anyone who craves that individualism, that unique genetic code that makes you you, then I'm afraid that you'll have to get over yourselves. Individualism is a source of unhappiness, and striving for it is impossible. Identical twins do pretty well at sharing genetic codes. They manage to have separate personalities whilst maintaining a bond that is so lacking in our race.

My point for today is that when we get the opportunity to create a far better race, the only factor that will hold us back will be religion, and the myths that have been indoctrinated into all children from a young age. If we'd realise we're as defective as we are, then there would be no question when the time arises. Sadly, the likelihood of A.I. is that we will use it for our own viscious personal gain. We'll make butlers, slaves, armies, because they don't have feelings. Well, that's simply not true. If a neural network was replicated, and placed within a body, then there would be absolutely no difference between it and a human, except for its ability to reproduce. Unless it displays some type of ausserung, then it is just like us.

But the purpose for why A.I. is being developed just demonstrates my point about our species.

Death of a God

Bit of a change of tack today. I often have thoughts about things a little bit beyond the normal tone of general conversation. It's pretty difficult to crowbar Sartre into idle chit chat, unless you're at a MENSA meeting. Since that's only once a month, I thought I'd express some thoughts here.

What the fuck is the point of a God? I'm pretty sure that the idea of a deity is the most ingenius and yet destructive idea ever. A higher power seemed like a pretty good idea for early civilisations desperate to instill order upon groups that would otherwise be anarchical. But, in an age of politics, globalisation and intelligence, Neitzsche's claim that God is Dead is an apt and less shocking statement. There is no purpose for a God, it gives people false hope, a false foundation for ideologies and rids people of real responsibility. If God did not exist, then everything would be permitted. In this case, everyone makes their own decisions, and there's no justification or excuse for our actions. The buck stops with us. It's not human nature; it's you. If you're a failure, you're a failure because you haven't made something of your life. This isn't by any means a pessimistic outlook, but precisely the antithesis. God is the origin for all underachievement.

I don't really have to go into all of the disputes that the notion of a God has caused, between sets of people without a difference between them, apart from their notion of a man with a beard in the clouds is slightly different to another group. It's ludicrous that wars can be fought over an imaginary friend. If anyone wants to challenge that then be my guest. I'm not denying a first cause is a pretty special thing, but the notion of a personifed being, with similar characterisics to that of a man is ridiculous. Read some Hume if you want to know why.

The point to God, well the only one that I can think of, is the notion of faith. The notion that there is not an end to life. Unfortunately though, this is also absolute bollocks. We're physical beings, with nothing separating ourselves from plants or other animals or even thermostats. The idea of the mental can be equated to only physical processes. Our distinction is that we have more mental processes than anything else. That is our only distinction; not consciousness, not spirit, not a soul.

A lot of these assertions are commonly held, even if the logical conclusions are not always reached. The thing that baffles me is why God is still such an important part of modern life? Surely we've evolved to a point that the notion is redundant? Fortunately, the apathetic are as plentiful as the atheistic, and with any luck the theists are a dying breed.

To Lose A Synthesiser

Klaxons are great aren't they? Their debut in 2007 was mindblowing when it arrived; fully formed with 80s synth sensibilia and mythological wonderment. The problem is that, since then, every Pete Doherty aping chump has gone and bought themselves a keyboard and gone 'edgy and psychedelic'. Take the Mystery Jets' second album; a complete departure from their debut effort, deciding to follow some bizarre Duran Duran framework. Moving on to Kaiser Chiefs. I'm fully aware they were always shite and always had a keyboard, but their latest effort is embarrassing to the point of tears of laughter. The Offspring even tried it once with Splinter. The point I'm making is that bands are getting desperate to stay relevant and are beginning to be found out. Don't get me wrong, I like a filthy synthesiser as much as the next Hadouken! fan. But there are appropriate contexts.

The View's latest offering, cleverly and oh so wittily titled Which Bitch, is the band's attempt at sentimentality, clearly on the back of their once listenable track 'Face for the Radio'. The View are a band who made a quick buck off of the popularity of The Libertines' rugged minimalistic production and high energy. Devoid of this and they are merely a bunch of pot head teens who are inaudible and unintelligible. The roughness of the delivery was what masked The View's inability to play instruments and sing. Whoever is responsible for adding slick production values, including synthesised mood rythms (okay, hardly any, but I had to link this article somehow) and turning up the reverb on the vocals really does owe The View a career. Their obvious flaws are magnified and the album ends up slow, without purpose and worst of all, boring.

Boring is not a description usually associated with Franz Ferdinand, with all of the riffs that those boys have conjured from their impossible funky-feet-powered guitars (oh come on, there has to be a reason for all of that unnecessary Michael Flatley-esque dancing). Unfortunately, they've spent far too long thinking about how to squeeze another keyboard solo into this album and just completely disregarded the notion of writing a song. 'Ulysses' kicks the album off in fine fashion, the perfect funk tune that you could imagine being played at the end of a 70s-based 'Back to the Future': "Hey Stevie! It's your cousin Billy Wonder...you know that new sound you were looking for....?". From this point though, it's all much the same Franz, but with a lot of synth that after a while just becomes white noise, forcing you to listen to the lyrics, which in turn is the worst thing that you can do with a Franz Ferdinand album. The lyrics of "Oh you girls will never know, oh no you girls will never know" and "You're what she came for whoa" are simply a continuation of "Do You Want To?", a track so repetitive that it makes Alphabeat look like Crystal Castles. On to the magnum opus of the album, well according to the band, and according to the hefty run time, deep into 7 minutes, "Lucid Dreams". This track typifies the problem with this album. An early release of it was made free and was absolutely awesome, a perfect balance of groove and lyrics; so danceable, so likable. Now the album version. It starts in the middle, and cuts to a different set of lyrics; lyrics not as good as the original. There is no hint of structure to this song, there is no stability to make it danceable. Then, as it seems as though the song has been ruined far enough, a barrage of dirty synths hit you from all angles, a definite head-fuck that the band must have felt was visionary when they'd finished it. The truth is, it leaves you with the same sense as the album does: "Well, that was pointless".

The final album review for the time being is the White Lies debut, To Lose a Life. When "Death" was first released, you could tell this was a pretty special band. They encompass all of the things that The Killers did before they became painfully American and painfully shit, by which I mean a powerful voice, uplifting choruses and synths used in perfect harmony to the flow of the music. There's not much more I'd want to say about the album than that really, because it really is a triumph. However, I will note that the structure for their songs may have to be worked on for the next album. You can get away with starting quietly and building it up to a powerful crescendo on every track once, but twice is pushing your luck, as Hope of the States discovered to their peril.

I miss Hope of the States. They probably should have got a keyboardist in.

Forgive the Name

First things first, it is impossible to come up with an original blog title these days. This was the best I could conjure from my unimaginative cerebral cortex, after literally everything was rejected as 'in use'. In a way it is fitting, as this is merely the space in which I plan to sculpt my journalistic 'guns', and intend to please no one by writing it. By all means, other people are welcome to voice an opinion on what I write, however, the chances are that no one ever will write on this blog. On another note, I despise the word blog, but for the life of me cannot think of a preferrable alternative.

Content on this...site? page? scroll?... is going to be pretty varied, mainly because I have the attention span as long as a gnat's pubic hair and will not be focused enough to stick to one topic of interest. But for an idea as to the way it will go, it will probably include me reviewing any and all new albums that I hear, ranting about some football decisions (what's that? Fergie's just got another 4 minutes added on to a match?) and discussing anything else that constitutes the shmorgous board of opinions that I have.

To demonstrate the apparent lack of coherence, here's a nice guitar, played by the genius that is Jack White...just to try and break up the monotony of block text. Or is it? It's also to explain the red, white and black theme that I've got going on. The most powerful colour scheme in history some say. Communism. Nazism. Romans. Royalty. The Sun. War of the Roses (Lancaster won because of the colour scheme). I could go on, if I had the time or indeed the necessary will to bother.

But I digress, and will continue to for as long as I write this blog. So, for all one of you that may be reading this, enjoy!