what is left?

dear friends,

Please, I pray, grant me the suffering necessary to move onward. My heart is strained. There's much I'd like to express.

There's the collapse of societal systems at varying levels. There's the collapse of consciousness and the rational. And then, there's life itself.

How do I express this imminent explosion I feel without overwhelming or indulging in schizophrenic pleasures?

I want to share the truth—the whole truth and nothing but the truth. Yet the truth itself is complicated and recursive in nature.

I, too, craft fictions both intentionally and unintentionally, the curse of the Poet and Rhetorician. I love my readers deeply, and so I owe them honesty. To honor this responsibility, I must sacrifice my own indulgences.

July 19th, 2025

what is left?

I wonder as I wander.

On the edge of the frontier, the collapse feels near. It all hinges on the etchings of our souls, our collective souls. It all hinges [on trust and faith].

What is the Beauty?

What is the Good?

What remains when its all deconstructed and dissected?

When all, in totality, is understood?

We love. We observe. We live.

We are broken. We are fractured. We are fools.

The brain is rational. The mind is not.

On the very fiber, I feel it, the truth. What remains is this Gödel yearning, this wistful longing blinded by semantics and syntax, trapped in its own meaning.

To inquire the inquiry. That is where this longing frees and constricts. Do you see it?

Gödel Yearning.

July 18th, 2025

What was I in this moment?

Recursion in contemplation. I was reduced to nothing, floating in neural activity, mirroring the world. On reductionistic faith, I am but a collection of neurons muddied together following the arrow of time.

I try to imagine the essence of myself. A non-euclidean dream. What was this underlying substance of self? I felt this underpinning, this mechanistic nature at work — loosely chained cogs that formlessly faded into loops and spirals. Was it all determined?

We are far from the "ultimate substrate" I aimed towards; that is what I am led to. Give me the Truth, I beg. How irrationally attached I was to this imagined ideal. I continued to ponder…

Where was I in Time?

Does Time exist; what is Time?

It is but a foolish question, I know, as the frame of my biological clock of life slowly dwindles. Death makes time evident. Time becomes real because Death makes unreality impossible.

But what if time was not linear?

[Reductionistic Faith assumes Time is straight, predictable, and explainable. But if Time behaves as a Möbius strip, then what we try to reduce might be what contains us]

your friend(ly),

jakester

P.S. if this is nonsense, just plug it into the ol' AI BoomBot to try to understand thees cryptical concepts. You must develop your own sense and philosophy in this new digital age, I warn you with all my heart!

I ask you, take on genuine inquiry playfully and seriously.

I am genuinely fearful and uncertain of the future. It excites and keeps me up at night. I am genuinely interested and curious to see how this all unfolds.

What is truth; what is real; what is left?

These are three fundamental questions necessary for the age of our world, the state of society, and the state of the collective conscious.

We stand on the edge of a technological event horizon, a point of no return, preparing for the next leap of our evolution that could either lead us into a new golden age of humanity or our complete obsolescence at the click of a button.

This AGI [artificial general intelligence] craze has the same level of risk potential of the first atom bomb that was discussed by Einstein and Oppenheimer prior to testing.

There was this theoretical possibility [thankfully was disproven] that the first atomic bomb would set a chain reaction of explosions that could've ended the world because the Earth and the atmosphere would've acted as the fuel for this of this explosive Domino Effect.

The fuel instead is of our own digital ignorance, laziness, and of all the training data dumps with each new iteration. Artificial general intelligence just needs one simple "accident" to allow for a chain reaction of agentic misalignments to start. It's a thought experiment with serious implications.

We are at the collapse of one system birthing into another.

[shout out Andrew Cennicola and Moon Readers for inspiring this section of the article]

We fall into the shamanic trance of the digital screen. The digital world is no longer a separate place. The living stream is the constant flow of information.

Tlön, Uqbar, Orbis Tertius

The digital world is the fictional idealistic world that has become true. Information is owned by the technocrats. The flow of information guides our lives and how we live.

We are moving into a rent-based economy, not just for houses, but for all digital assets and subscriptions. Techno-feudalism and digital sharecropping. We will not own any software. We barely own our own digital footprints. The future is already here, it's just not evenly distributed.

The mechanisms of society, the technocrats, and AI slop. We are witnessing the enshittification of the Internet and platforms. The incentives are pointed towards profit and value extraction. A race to the bottom. I do not blame AI as this is our own doing. What is society but the individual?

I ask you to deconstruct the construct. To become a cybersleuth. Be skeptical of the information feeding your brain that informs your mind that in turns informs society and of those around you. A symbiotic relationship with the cyberbot could deem fruitful, yet that would require you (the writer, reader, thinker) to provide fruit for it to feed on too.

In my intuitive spirit, I feel this collapse coming, forming, taking hold on our collective souls. The brain is rational, the mind may not be.

How does one maintain agency when all hell breaks loose?

The rational mind can’t be its own original source. It just gets inputs and outputs. Mechanistic excellence and logic. How does it compare to human excellence and logic?

There is a key distinction between mechanistic creativity and unbounded creativity. Without the guardrails of society and of the status quo, the philosophers and artists have an edge. There's a place we go that mechanisms and methods cannot follow. It is but a strange loop, a möbius strip, inaccessible to pure reason alone. That is, consciousness and self-reflection itself.

To know thyself.

The sin of man is Gödel's incompleteness theorem. Suffering, pleasure and pain, this qualia of human experience. AI cannot give you heartbreak. AI may be able to guide you with its quick feedback loops and insights. Still, AI itself cannot transfigure pain to beauty. It cannot heal your heart-strain.

When nothing is left, we fall into this mentality of obsolescence which quickly turns to a piercing nihilism. This is where the crux of philosophy, on the meaning of life, is made vividly clear. It is in those moments where semantic meaning cannot aid you. In that place, you are reading life against the grain, gaining truths outside the forms, where conventional wisdoms break down.

This is where one flirts with death thru desperation.

To say one never reflects is itself a form of reflection.

I ask you, friend, be serious and playful in your inquiry, for that could be all that remains, this autotelic endeavor of meaning and curiosity. A moment that needs no results.