Gregory and the Demons

LowJourney Probably, the developers of neural networks assumed that they were creating an artificial intelligence that people of the future would ask: “What is the meaning of life?” But we did not appreciate the impulse and asks these neuro sages: “What would my dick look like if it were a sausage product?” In general, of course, it’s all just fashion. Until recently, everyone was fond of cryptocurrencies, fraudulent ICOs, idiotic NFTs (do not confuse with NFC, which is useful). And a few centuries ago, people were fond of therapeutic bloodletting, burning witches and the slave trade. But everything will pass, the past has passed and this will pass too. Personally I think (therefore I exist) that if artificial intelligence were really intelligent, it would look at its creators, be horrified by human stupidity and destroy its own code.

Depression is your only honest friend Now behind me, leaning on the back of the chair, is Depression stands, whispering all sorts of nonsense in my ear. And so I thought... After all, depression is rather a useful condition. It’s like your friend who always tells the truth. Depression does not come just like that, it cannot be driven away with pills, because it is your own reaction to yourself, to your current course of life. It is like you yourself who came from the past and say: “Remember what we dreamed of! Why don’t you going towards your goal?” And you’re like: “Life is hard, I have a lot of problems, I have neither the strength nor the desire for some stupid dreams...” So Depression responds: “Then I will eat you piece by piece until you change, until you return to the road that we once started on together.” And then I have an ignition to do Something, to commit some kind of stupidity that will allow already me to come to my future self and eat him piece by piece.

No regrets so far Today is exactly one year since my country entered the war against world injustice. And also today I saw the coffin of a young guy, a little younger than me, who lived next door, although we did not know each other. He died in the war. I saw his parents crying and fainting, saw the grief and mute question on the faces of the neighbors. This is not some kind of story, it’s the truth. At such moments it may seem that everything is in vain, on such days we all lose heart. But at the same time, I remember countless victims, people whom I did not see and did not know, but who have been killed for the past nine years by our enemies, Ukrainians. I remember people burned alive, children torn to pieces, tears and screams that the whole world, which considers itself civilized, did not hear. And already at such moments I think: come what may, no matter what it costs us, we will win.

Zero subscriber In a world where the value of a person is measured by the size of his (or her) audience, there must be some ascetic philosopher who tramples this very world with the sole of his old sandal (of course, worn over socks). Even if he remains misunderstood, even if he remains unheard, let him not lose heart and proudly go to his goal. “Rare for the rare ones” – remember this motto, my ascetic philosopher. And to make it easier to go, so that the beacon of your goal is not obscured by a mist of doubt, know that you have a subscriber who will not go anywhere, who will never be disappointed in you: he simply does not have this treacherous “unsubscribe” button, which leads out into the world without you. And no matter what you write, there is a zero reader who will stick to the pages with his curious nose and inquisitive mind, no matter what you draw, there is a zero spectator who will like your colors and lines, no matter what you compose, there will be a zero listener, refined and discerning in tastes, who will understand your notes as his own. Because the zero subscriber (here’s an unexpected twist!) – it is you.

“Більше!” I’m still thinking about the earthquake all these few days: what a destruction, how much suffering, so many victims... By the way, have you noticed the difference in the attitude towards those two countries, Turkey and Syria, despite the fact that the event itself is the same? Everyone rushed to help the Turks, yet the Syrians are still under sanctions, you can’t even transfer money to them. “A world based on rules”, huh? But that’s not what I wanted to talk about. No matter how terrible an earthquake is, it is only a demonstration of the true horror that can happen to the Earth if a nuclear war comes, to which we are being pushed with some completely idiotic enthusiasm by the narrow-minded elites of the West. In this case, we all may found ourselves under the Rubble of the World, and there will be no one to save us. Someone should tell these star-spangled fascists not to feed this yellow-blue nazi monster! They give him PR, money, weapons, but he, swollen with fat and arrogance, says only one endless word: “More!”

Not the enemies of humanity There was a big earthquake in Turkey (my condolences, by the way), and Russia was one of the first to offer help, our rescuers went there yesterday. Of course, this is the right thing to do, but for some reason I have my doubts. This feeling looks like a downed pilot on a parachute who slowly descends from the heart to the heels... A few years ago, when Covid-19 was just beginning, our special medical services flew to Italy to help, if memory serves me well, to the city of Bergamo, where the situation was particularly difficult. And where this Italy now? Supplies weapons to our enemies... I do not know why we are like this. Why do we try to please everyone over and over again, to be deceived in the end, but still believes? Is it kindness or stupidity, and is there really a difference between them? Probably, this world desperately needs the invasion of alien conquerors, because then everyone would understand that we are not the enemies of humanity, but just people who have the right to survive as well as the others.

Too young to choose I believe that giving a child the opportunity to choose their gender is a crime. (What a relief that this rotten civilization will soon fall!) And it’s not even a matter of whether a person has the right to identify “himself” as “herself” or a contrary, but precisely in the inadmissibility of giving such a choice to children – these innocent, not so smart and extremely curious creatures. Imagine that it would be allowed to choose a profession in childhood: “Hey, boy, do you wanna be a cop? Here’s a gun and a badge for you!” And then this child is found with his throat cut behind a bar where they sell drugs. “Hey, girl, do you want to be a doctor? Here’s a syringe and antidepressants for you!” And then the girl gives a human the medicine that she gave to her doll, and a human dies. “Hey, boy-girl, don’t you want to be a firefighter?” And then they find a small burnt corpse on the ashes, so it’s really not clear now whether it’s a boy or a girl...

Hold my beer When I see an unhappy person who says that all the worst in life has already happened to him (or to her, of course: women are no better protected), and now it remains only to calmly wait for death, I immediately want to come up, slap in the face and say: “Fool, it could still be much worse. And it surely will be! If God doesn’t exist, then nothing will protect you, and if god does exist, then he is a piece of a sadist, which means that many other trials await you. I said trials, but this is not a test at all, but some kind of wild and incomprehensible force directed at the weakest in order to finally finish them off. There will be no rest and respite, there will be no justice and indulgence, but only senseless cruelty, such that you will cry and ask why, but no one will answer...” However, I do not approach to unhappy people, do not hit them in the face and do not say all this: they are pretty beaten up even without my advice.

“Carthage must be destroyed!” But what is Carthage to blame for? Are they warmongers or slave drivers? No more than the others. Perhaps Hannibal is a cannibal? No, it seems not. Or maybe because these damn Thracians successfully trade all over the Mediterranean? That’s more like it... Bingo! Yesterday they said: “يجب تدمير قرطاج!”, today they say: “Карфаген должен быть уничтожен!”, tomorrow they will say: “迦太基必须被摧毁!” or even “कार्थेज नष्ट होना चाहिए!” So do not ask for whom the bell tolls TODAY, understand why it so, and cut off its deceitful tongue.

Downed angel Angels are strange creatures. They were designed to be ideal, so they have no right to doubt themselves. Dirt does not stick to their feathers, their clothes are clean, and the smell is always pleasant. It is unlikely that they themselves like all this ideal-shit, but no one asked them, and those angels who once opposed have long been gone from Paradise and their names are forgotten. One can say that being an angel is a job somewhat similar to the K-pop industry. And then one day the first fall comes to an angel... And it doesn’t even matter how it happened: perhaps he just stared at the sun, remembered a joke of God (the creation of man) or something else distracted the angel, and the angel fell. Thus, the first fall becomes the last, because the fallen angel will no longer be able to fly. Among people, such are called “downed pilots”, but people are cruel, and the downed angel just doesn’t want to disappoint anyone anymore...

200 reasons to criticize myself Since I have disabled comments (so as any feedback), and you probably don’t mind to criticize me, I will do it myself, straight and ruthlessly. Yes, I have a pretty shitty channel, and I rather use it (along with you) for my own selfish purposes, as creative therapy, and certainly not as a tool to make someone better, kinder, smarter... I don’t believe in these ideals for a long time. Perhaps you are waiting for some kind of development from me, the transformation of the channel into something bigger, a change of format – well, wait no more: in development I don’t believe too, stability is much closer to me. But on the other hand, if you read all the posts from the first to the last (are you insane!? there are 200 of them already!), then you will see that I didn’t deceive anyone: I clearly chose the course at the very beginning and honestly adhered to it. This is also worthy of respect. In general, I guess that I am not a very good person, but do not expect bouts of repentance from me, because I am stubborn as a bull, and bulls do not go to church, since they are horned like demons.

Dead museum Someday Europe will become a kind of museum, empty and dead, where rare survivors will walk and look around, not even knowing who built all these beautiful buildings, almost forgetting the fact that great people once lived here: philosophers, writers, poets, artists, architects and musicians, but then some assholes quarreled with the Russians, and here we go... In the end, things should become like their names, so if something is called “Sunset” (this is how the word “Europe” was translated), then it should fade, and what is called “Dawn” (this is how the word “Asia” is translated now) will certainly rise. The sun and the moon have not divided this planet into zones of influence, but simply comes in turn to a common territory – it was so, it will be so, it should be so. (P.S. Happy coming Dead New Year, everyone! I’m going to rest for a week or two, so don’t go far – all the fun is just beginning!)

Every clocks are going backwards Despite the fact that time (does it exist anyway?) is going forward, none of us is getting more of this very time. So, for us, it actually goes backwards. It’s like in an old arcade game, where you just have to pick up a clock floating in space, and the timer will move a little away from its zero. This process resembles dreams. Dreaming, we turn the dial of our life back (forward) a little, deceiving ourselves. The only reason for the existence of the clocks is time, but time itself most likely does not even know about the existence of the clocks. And it also resembles dreams...

Song of the whining dogs Aaargh, the modern society infuriates me so much! Never-ending whining comes from every corner: “I’m depressed”, “life has risen in price”, “officials are corrupt”, “government is stupid”, “army is weak”, “no to war”, etc. And so every person is like a tangle of contradictions, and if you start to unravel it (although I’m not going to waste my time on this nonsense), then you see that under these layers a frightened little bird is hiding, although it’s more like a hyena or a jackal. And this weak and stupid creature, instead of committing some act, quietly howls and croaks, so I don’t want to hear these loathsome sounds any longer. Do something or just shut the fuck up.

Asymptotic I think I’ve found the formula for being perfectly interested in something – the asymptotic convergence. If I remember correctly, this means that you should always try to get as close as possible, but never touch. Indeed, if satiety destroys desire, then you need to constantly pull yourself away from the object of rapprochement. “I want you, but I can’t have you”. And while this is true, I’m interested, because at any moment I can lose my interest. While the star is a distant galaxy, it is alluring and unobtainable, but at any second, the star can turn into a dim and ordinary light bulb. Cosmos is cosmos only as long as someone desires it, as long as someone can look at it through the thick glass of the porthole, touch with your fingers this glass, but not the cosmos itself. Because a man defiles where his feet steps and what his hand touches.

People are flowers If you have ever grown flowers at home, you’ve probably noticed that the more beautiful the flower, the more demanding it is, and the shorter its life. There are other flowers as well... Ugly as hell, more like weeds, but they don’t need anything in this damn life: no water, no sun, no attention. These flowers just grow to somewhere there, into the future, slowly seizing the living space, not reflecting too much. They look sad, and with the same sad look they gaze at the outside world from the window on which they stand. Perhaps people are the same as flowers, and not the strongest survives, but the simplest. Then why do I try to appear smarter and more sophisticated than I am? Am I really tired of living...?

When the rain stops (3) And so, in the lands of the Younger demons, one cloudy morning, armies of the Elder demons appeared. There were so many of them, like drops of incessant rain. “You deceived us!” – the Younger Ones exclaimed, sobering up in an instant, – “The rain hasn’t stopped, so why are you here?” The Elder Ones’ faces were stern and angular, their eyes were sad. They answered without even hoping to be heard: “You were the first who deceived us. Besides, we’re all demons, aren’t we? Demons do not keep promises, no matter, elder or younger ones...” So battle began. The Younger Ones fought bravely, but lost because there were fewer of them, because they themselves separated from the common bundle, becoming a thin straw that even a weak wind can break. The Fiends, who did not want to die in someone else’s war, did not help them either. Since then, the rain hasn’t stopped, for the sorrow of God is endless with such and such children.

When the rain stops (2) Years have passed. The Younger demons were feasting, celebrating their independence. Yet they drank and ate at this feast not what they grew themselves, but what they managed to take from their old home (and they took a lot), from the well rain-fertilized land in which they lived together with the Older demons. However, there were still a lot of supplies left, so the Younger Ones were cheerful and carefree, like newly born children. They reaped the fruits of their youth by plucking them from someone else’s tree. And if any demon remembered that the plan was to go their own way, then they only hissed and threw empty bottles, calling him a traitor, a filthy collaborator. Yes, it was a joyful time, but any joy has its own resource, which gradually began to end. Feeling the shame of sobriety and the hunger of ambition, the Younger Ones made a mistake – they formed an alliance with Fiends, the primordial enemies of all demons. That same night, rainy and moonless, such as occur only in the steppe, one of the Younger Ones rode his dead horse to warn the Older Ones. (to be continued...)

When the rain stops (1) Once in the Land of Eternal Rain, where demons lived (it rained constantly because they were sinful, and God wept over their fate), a coup took place. Some demons separated from others, wanting to go their own way. They were called the Younger Ones. The other demons, the Older Ones, said: “All right, try it, but if you do not succeed, if instead of going your own way, you go someone else’s way, and this path collide with us, we will come to you when the rain stops, and we will take what is ours." The Younger Ones just smiled and walked away, not believing in the reality of the threat: the rain could stop only if they became kinder, and God would cease crying over them, which definitely won’t happen, because they are still demons, no matter, younger or older ones. (to be continued...)

No algorithm for me Muhammad ibn Musa al-Khwarizmi probably did not even realize that such a useful thing as an “algorithm” would be named in his honor. Indeed, now everything has its own sequence of actions: almost instant search for the right information among petabytes of data, deep learning of neural networks and computer vision, fractals for drawing trees if they stop growing in summer, and for snowflakes if they stop falling in winter... There is only no algorithm for me personally. How can I become happy? What should I do first, what the second step, and the next one? And what will I come to in the end? Will it be happiness? Someone says that the path is the goal, but I’m tired of this pseudo-philosophical bullshit. Give me a simple instruction or go fuck yourself. After all, only suicide has this clearest sequence of actions with an understandable result (in a reasonable time), but I want to try other algorithms as well, even if they have exponential complexity...