When I was waiting around for my son to be born, as often occurs when the ape or Adam mind is particularly stimulated by the natural urge to nest, a spark flashed into my head -
Force = ((Ohms)(Coulombs^2))/((meters)(seconds))
I didn’t arrive at this formula by way of a vision, per se. Not so, rather, it was a set of principles I had learned way back in high school - that there is more than one way to skin a cat. And so, I took a unit and dimensional approach to realize this Law, an unconventional but correct approach I had learned from one Jeff Bibbey, physics ~9th grade. At the time he was describing a student of his, her approach, she being dyslexic she could not come to the conclusions the same way as everyone else, and she needed to pass the tests. This was her method, borrowed, and his method, relayed. And this my method, utilized, in this our a-traditional approach.
One equation to connect them all. Our key equation. I couldn’t sleep that night.
I wrote it down. I checked it. Then I had chat bot check it again. And from this I was able to re-invent much of physics.
I hurried to publish over here…
and here -
And so, I did what anyone would do, I used the breaking or bending of physics to push my gorilla marketing campaign for Love Letter Media, and to help my censored messages from prior, finding themselves in stagnant water, to grow.
It was enough of a success with the communities that a seed may have been planted for enough people to see that our current understanding of physics had been limited, and further explorations were in fact in order. Which of course, I took it upon myself to do. In fact, I re-invented much of physics with proofs, and I solved numerous problems which would fetch large sums of cash for my growing family’s future usage if and only if the blight of censorship were solved by our failed judiciary.
… I didn’t realize at the time that I could find myself at the edge of yet another black hole of censorship. Gatekeepers, abound.
Soon after my first few publishes, the Physics groups across the board were assailed. Moderators were removed. Flooding of various bullshittery became the norm. Posts which had previously been easy enough to get published are now denied, either automatically or manually, the result being the same.
If the reader didn’t know, flooding means posting over and over again with bots or paid human operators to drown legitimate posts in the noise. The problem of screaming into the wind.
Now I mentioned before the judiciary is captured. And, it most certainly is. If not by corruption, which it is, and failure to perform The Supreme Law of the Land, which it is, but also by simply flooding. The problem of screaming into the wind. If I were to go to court with my censorship and copyright claims, I would need to have confidence in my judiciary. Such as it is, I do not. Such as it is, I do not have a remedy. I do not find relief. And I’m not foolish enough to test the waters until I can see clearly the mud had been removed from the muck.
In communist China, it is all too common to steal another’s work with not so much as accreditation. But here in the states, our People abhor theft of IP even so much as to enumerate it into our Constitution. For without IP, nobody owns a thing.
That’s not to say that we should be protecting Di$ney.
It is very obvious that the copyright timelines had been extended wrongly. For to build new rights which tread upon the old is wrong. I have a right to utilize old works to make them new. That is the purpose of incubating creative works. You get your time period of access to copyright, that is your time to make a profit. And then, you give it away to the world. Or rather, the world assumes ownership of itself. That is the proper course of things.
So, when before it was 14 years with an extension of 14 to make 28 years, now we are at something like the life of the author plus up to 95 years, which can be up to three lifetimes per my math. Half a lifetime became three lifetimes. Some would rightly call this an abomination - rendering immortal that which dies when it becomes supplanted in permanence rather than change. Growth of the few and the expense of growth of the many.
If I were to go back in time 95 years, I would be close to witnessing the birth of the automobile and the birth of the airplane; of man allegedly landing on the moon, of microchips the size of mere cluster of atom or like, and the days of the horse and the buggy still going strong.
As it turns out, communism was stealing more than just our farmland…
If it was not obvious, even if a healthy judiciary is restored, we have the flooding problem. The problem of yelling into the wind.
So, we are faced with three options: Option 1) Wait for the healthy judiciary to be restored which would by necessity include hope of hopes that our hybrid judiciary, newly equipped with AI agents simply to counter flooding, would find these agents behaving with a benevolence surpassing even the most benevolent programmer (and that’s hoping something, wouldn’t it be?) 2) If you can’t beat them, join them. 3) End all AI programs. I really don’t think the Genie can be put back into the bottle, at this point…
The solution may well be a hybrid of the three… Strange times…
BTW, if you should ever read that book by Mr. Bibbey, you might find two of my friends in there. State champs. I only beat the one once, and only once, when usually he could pin me and another at the same time. I beat him by forcing him to break my pencil neck or lose. Nothing was planned, only as it had happened; spontaneous.
I knew, or I suppose hoped, he would let me live. It was an… a-typical approach. Well, I knew I could trust him with my life, point blank.
His strength and understanding of the human anatomy; as art. My relationship with him at the time; as flow. He and the other state champ once kicked my vertigo ass on up to Long’s Peak before the panoramic thunderstorm static of the hair. Electricity shivering on the skin and in the bones frightening us enough to leave; memorable enough to reflect.
Napping on the hillside from waking up a bit too early, touching the marmot’s tail for good luck, finding ourselves stalked by gang of marmots for crime of touching the marmot’s tail without paying proper homage.
Mostly just huffing and puffing.
We would find ourselves even also lapped by a Kenyan on his morning jog. Yelling back politely his hello on the way up, yelling forward his goodbye not much later on his way down. He’s out there, bouncing around on the boulders.
We all had somethin’ to teach the other one, hadn’t we? God bless.
