Diminishing Cognition

There was a point in my life, as I’m sure there is in everyone’s lives, where I perpetually sought out self-destructive pastimes. I would smoke excessively, drink mass amounts of alcohol and caffeine, and stay up for days on end.
When I did sleep it would be in strange and awkward places. I would park my car in an abandoned lot, that I hoped no one would bother with, and take a nap. Sometimes I would have the opportunity to crash on a couch, or in a lounge, or at least sleep in a stairwell using my knapsack as a pillow.
Needless to say I developed a crick in my neck and dark circles under my eyes, which had managed to develop a reddish tawny color from the eyestrain and build up of bilirubin in my blood.
My complexion was a pale and sallow outer coating of skin fitted over muscles that were clearly suffering from a lack of proper nutrition, which, contrary to my belief at the time, could not be derived from the investment of $.75 into a vending machine every few hours.
In my youthful inanity I would wear my ailments as something that had been achieved successfully. They displayed that I had the upper hand in my body’s struggle to stay alive and in good condition.
Somewhere something changed. I started to exercise regularly, I quit everything but caffeine, I got a haircut, but I can’t remember what triggered it.
Perhaps it was from reading articles about how my body will steadily decline well enough on its own without my assistance in the matter thank you very much.
The bad news is the “notable decline in certain measures of abstract reasoning, brain speed and in puzzle-solving" becoming apparent at 27.
The good news is “vocabulary and general knowledge, actually increase at least until the age of 60.”
After one begins the inevitable decline, what is there to look forward to?
So far all I have found is that by the time I reach 60, and can no longer learn new words, my body will have eased itself out of its current caffeine addiction.
This does me no good, as I enjoy coffee too much and will continue to drink it with flagrant abandon.

Murder by numbers

In London on July 10th, 2008, four people were murdered in separate incidents.
BBC correspondent Andy Tighe said "To have four fatal stabbings in one day could be a statistical freak."
Professor Spiegelhalter declares this number was predictable.

http://www.physorg.com/news156540743.html

Prof. Spiegelhalter and his team of statisticians "counted how many murders occurred on each day over a three-year period. Four murders on the same day in London would be expected to occur about once every three years, and it has done. Seven days without a murder should occur about six times a year, and it does."

The trouble here is that the overall patterns are predictable, whereas specific events are not.

I'd like to introduce you to Eliza, a computer program by Joseph Weizenbaum, designed to imitate a non-directional psychotherapist. Cutting edge stuff back in 1966, but it's now easily dominated by AIM bots.
Eliza's importance was the approach it used in developing AI, which undoubtedly inspired Robin Burgener, in 1988 to invent something you may already be familiar with, 20q.

Based on the less addicting parlor game, 20q is an AI website that can guess what you are thinking of in approximately 20 questions or less.
The thing is uncannily good in the same way Amazon.com has become eerily good at recommending Cure cds I already own after I tell it how much I enjoyed the movie Dark City.

Now this is something of a morbid thought, but could one possibly develop this AI to assist in carving away the specifics from the patterns of murder?

FauxBot

Picture it, a future where one robot has been programmed to love.
You are an intern working with this robot and spend several hours each day testing his systems and loading new software routines, until one fateful day the robot refuses to let you leave.
The robot's bulky mechanical body blocks your exit and proceeds to hug you repeatedly while making pre-recorded dog and cat noises through a 20 watt speaker in its chest.

The above scenario seems ridiculous and amusing to everyone but Dr. Takahashi's intern who allegedly had this happen to her:

http://www.escapistmagazine.com/news/view/90017-Japanese-Robot-Has-a-Fatal-Attraction

http://gear.ign.com/articles/959/959790p1.html

http://michiganmessenger.com/tag/akimu-robotic-research-institute


From the 5 seconds I've spent researching, I understand the above story to be a hoax.
If this is the case, there are a couple of things to be learned here:

The first is that it only takes approx. 5 seconds to research the validity of any random statement made on the Internet.

Second, is the fact we live in a time where an event like the one above isn't entirely unreasonable.
There are people commenting on how horrible it must have been for the intern, people making the usual SkyNet references, robot defenders making a case for Kenji (the robot), and so on.

There was a time when the public would only expect to find an article like this printed in the Weekly World News alongside a headline describing the affair P'lod had with the first lady of France back when she was a model.

The kneejerk violence people respond with towards Kenji (or robots in general) is a bit unsettling but not entirely unfamiliar. At least the torches and pitchforks have been replaced with blogs and comments ... mostly.

For your amusement.
http://pbfcomics.com/?cid=PBF115-Hug_Bot.jpg

Death Bed

“Saturday, Donny, is Shabbos, the Jewish day of rest. That means that I don't work, I don't get in a car, I don't f*cking ride in a car, I don't pick up the phone, I don't turn on the oven, and I sure as sh*t don't f*cking roll! Shomer Shabbos!”
-Walter Sobchak

A few hours after reading this article, nodding defeatedly and muttering, "Figures," I decided that it deserved a little more thought than my knee-jerk reaction.

I had taken the easy way out, without bothering to ask myself what exactly “figured.”
After taking some time to think, I was reminded of two things: the Sabbath and my Death Bed.

Shomer Shabbos, as Mr. Sobchak meticulously outlined for Donny, is a day where much is prohibited (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Melakha)

.
As someone who makes bold and ridiculous attempts at fitting as many activities into my life as possible, I found Shabbos to be a ludicrous, bewildering, and frustrating idea, therefore I had to try it.
For those who haven't tried it, Shabbos is akin to those days when the power goes out and you're forced to spend the entire time waiting until you're allowed to use electricity again.

The morning of my attempt at Shabbos I employed a thought experiment I developed called, "Death Bed".
Here's how it works:
I picture my future self on my deathbed lamenting on the aspects of my life where I could have used time more wisely.
If I find my future self asking why it was so important to watch some poor soul on youtube eat 40 pizza rolls more than once, I should probably stop and go do something else.

My future self had no such regrets about Shabbos, so I continued on with my day, eventually realising how Shabbos was its own thought experiment.
Shabbos broke routine in a way similar to Death Bed. In all its restrictions I was forced to reflect on aspects of my life that had previously gone ignored or become habit.

Marvin Minsky made a similar observation by describing the time one spends with a broken leg.
It isn't until the leg is broken that all the little details of walking become apparent.

Perhaps declaring the use of ethanol as a "sin" could be beneficial to some, I'm not sure, perhaps he was just being difficult.