Category Archives: GeekWorld

Cooking, GeekWorld, Health, Mountains, Shadow Mountain

Door

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New microwave. A compact that fits on top of my dorm fridge. First use. Heated macaroni. Then. The door wouldn’t open. The LED read, unhelpfully, door. Had to unplug it, plug it back in to retrieve my macaroni. A call today to the Sharp’s folks. I need a working unit.

P.t. starts tomorrow. Glad. My situation is not dire, but it could go there with another illness or an injury. Regular meals have not, so far, increased my weight. I know from experience with Kate that gaining weight can be as hard as losing it.

More imaging. Later this month. Oh, boy.

Weather, though often sunny, remains unseasonably cool. 44 this morning. Warmer starting tomorrow.

Luke and Leo, Gabe and Levi coming today. Gabe for his graduation gift. Luke and Leo for a visit.

Another day viewing the world from the top of Shadow Mountain. Across the way Black Mountain greens up:  lodgepole needles darker, aspen colonies fluttering new green leaves. Two mountains among the many that stretch over three thousand miles from British Columbia to New Mexico.

AI, GeekWorld, Science

Bots and Meatsacks

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Spring and the Trial Moon

Monday gratefuls:  A quiet stomach. Shadow in the whole yard. Dog treats. Rigel. Hilo. Gabe in L.A. Ruth getting ready for finals.

Rene Good. Alex Pretti. Say their names.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Healing

 

Kavannah: Netzach. Perseverance. Trial begins on Wednesday. I need netzach as I enter this latest round of treatment.

Tarot: paused

One brief shining: Saw in the NYT this am. Lightning wins half marathon. Time: 50:26. Just under seven minutes faster than the record set last month. By a human. Lightning fell near the finish line. Helped up by human bystanders.

Looking for something non-health related to write about today. The story about Lightning’s record time in a Beijing half-marathon. Yes, please.

300 robots ran alongside human marathoners-separated by metal fencing-but close enough to shake hands over the barrier.

What’s the real comparison? Not robotic marathoner vs human champion. Perhaps a whole human against machines made to mimic a particular human skill.

John Henry. The pile driving man. Remember him? A black worker tasked with drilling holes for dynamite. The legend pits John Henry against a steam-engine driven pile driver. John Henry wins, but dies from the strain. Wish he’d had helping hands like Lightning did.

Got me thinking. How might Jacob Kiplimo, the Ugandan whose time of 57 minutes and 20 seconds set the human record, fare against Lightning? Sure, seven minutes is a big gap, but Kiplimo might run even faster against the robot.

How will we measure flesh and blood against machines built for one task: pile-driving, marathon running. Lightning is purpose built to run marathons. He’s a one-trick robot like the steam-powered pile-driver. But their one-trick is pretty damned good.

A.I. measures its capacity against humans. This one’s as smart as a grad student. This one might win the Fields Medal. Besides. Which grad student.

If the artificial general intelligence, AGI, claim is ever made, it will be judged against human efforts, too. I remember the Go match between Korean 9-dan master, Lee Sidol, and AlphaGo. I watched all the matches.

Often, as AlphaGo moved, a commentator would add: “That’s a move no human would ever make.”

We humans operate in an odd dynamic here. We build machines to pound steel-drills into rock. To play go. Then, we pit our best, think Gary Kasparov, against the machine. When we humans go down in ignominious defeat, a small chunk of our uniqueness seems to vanish. Vanquished.

What will happen to our humanity when our final capacity has been defeated?

Not much, I imagine. So far Lightning can for sure run a fast marathon race. Probably faster than any human can dream of doing.

However. When the human marathoner crosses the finish line, they’ll return to family and friends. To work. When Lightning finishes, they will be loaded into a truck and driven back to the factory. No marathon, no purpose. Back to the shed for repurposing,

The point. Humans already have general intelligence and we have it already loaded into a body that can run marathons. Drive steel drills. Also, our sensory detectors are much further advanced than the most sophisticated machines. We blend all this effortlessly.

We are the complete package. Parts of our capacities appeal to researchers. So we get a.i. Or Lightning. But putting all those together in a unified working whole. Humans. Only humans. In that we stand alone.

Aging, Family, Fourth Phase, GeekWorld

Losing it

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Spring and the Moon of Liberation

Thursday gratefuls: Artemis in orbit. High orbit. Space dreams. The Moon. The far side of the Moon. Back at it after 53 years

Rene Good. Alex Pretti. Say their names.

Sparks of Joy and Awe:  Retina photographs

 

 

Kavannah: Wonder. Malchut.  Shadow

Tarot: Two of Arrows, Judgement. Randomization today. Decisions will follow.

One brief shining: I lost my phone on Sunday. Hunted in the house, at the restaurant where Luke and I had lunch. No teléfono. Peculiar feelings. Relief. Concern. Has anyone tried to contact me?

Losing your phone seems impossible. Unless you drop it out of a moving vehicle. We cradle and carry our personal computers. With care. Not unusual to hear someone say: My whole life is on that phone.

Cute photographs of Shadow. Alan’s contact info.  A quick way to see if anyone responded to my e-mail about the phone.

When we sit down, the phone comes out. Oh, Ruth texted me. Tom sent out another poem.

How could I leave something that intimate, that personal behind? Maybe it was the fatigue from wearing the neck brace. Maybe that I didn’t wear a hat. I almost always wear a baseball cap. At a restaurant I’ll put my hat down, my phone inside it.

If I knew where I lost it, it wouldn’t be lost.

This would not have been a thing in high school, college, seminary. Or even through my fifteen years in the ministry. Ubiquity of the sort we have today? Not until the early 2000’s.

At my age and my level of infirmity, I’m inclined to forgive myself. Going out has increased in difficulty. Unlike Ruth and Gabe I spent over fifty years without a portable phone. I’m on my side.

Wasn’t always.

What can compare? A car? No match for something I could carry inside it. Television? No. Ironically, no longer bound to home to watch TV. You can watch on your phone.

Lost time. Lost relationships. Lost in the woods. Lost

“Not all who wander are lost.”  JRR Tolkien

In certain Christian communities if you’re lost, you’re going to hell. I’m sure my phone is ok there.

I’ve lost many things. Two marriages. My car in a parking lot. My relationship with my dad. Two wedding rings.

Kate died. Five years ago. In 10 days. Losing her? The most difficult of the last sixty years. I’m following her path. Gradual decline.

Over the last year I’ve lost a lot. I’m weaker. A bit unsteady. My feet don’t always go where I aim them. Opening sealed dog treats. Difficult to impossible.

I’m ok with it.

When you lose something.
Look carefully.
Forgive yourself.

Back Pain, Cancer, GeekWorld, Health, Post Polio

Abraxas

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Imbolc and the Moon of Tides

Friday gratefuls: Andrew. Nessa. Bone Scan. Radioactive tracers. Abraxas. Tesla. Uber. Tough day. Noem. Gone. Morning darkness.

Rene Good. Alex Pretti. Say their names.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Technology

 

Kavannah: Shleimut.   Being present to myself.

Tarot: Six of Vessels, Reunion     Shadow reminds me. My little boy plays with her. Feeds her.

 

One brief shining: Encountering high technology: Radioactive tracers. The bone scan machine. Uber. A self-driving Tesla.  An organic among computer chips and software and radiation sensing crystals.

 

 

Retired Army Sergeant Andrew inserted an IV into my arm at 11:35. Flushed it with saline. Left the room to retrieve a lead box about 10 inches long and five wide. Removed the syringe with radioactive tracers that light up on bone. With a single push he sent it into my blood stream.

He took out the IV. “Come back at 2:30.” Three hours in a place where I could not rest my head. That soft brace? No match for hours in cafeteria and lobby chairs with no head rest.

By 2:30 I was so grateful to lie down. The too familiar curved table. Accepted me and supported my neck. The forty-minutes sandwiched between two cameras sensitive to the gamma rays coming from my bones? The most comfortable I’d been since I got to the hospital.

One of four imaging tests.  Baselines for the clinical trial.

After my much needed rest: time to enter another technology tunnel. Called up the Uber app on my cell phone. Of course. Credit card expired. The ritual:  Card number. Security code. Expiration date. Ah.

I entered the network of self-employed drivers near to me. Who would drive me home? Abraxas took my request.

Abraxas, a man in his early sixties drove a black 2025 Tesla. “Abraxas?” He nodded. “Charlie?” I nodded back while closing the heavy door and looking up through the transparent roof.

“Abraxas?”

A five-thousand year old Egyptian god. Rooster head and snakes for arms. Represents that God is one with everything.

Hmm. OK. Not sure about snakes for arms. Can roll with all is one.

A mind-stretching combination of magical thinking and a self-driving car.

When Abraxas bought his Tesla, he opted for a full self driving kit. Used it all the way from Skyridge Hospital to 9358 Black Mountain Drive. His hands fluttered, on occasion, below the steering wheel.

He even took the Deer Creek Valley road. A road through the mountains. I use it when I’m tired of the freeways. Very curvy. With bicyclists. All on self-drive.

When we got to my house, the Tesla dutifully parked itself.

Bones scanned by machine. Curves navigated by software. Me in my body.

Home again, home again.

Shadow wiggling. Smiling.

Dogs, Friends, GeekWorld, Politics, Shadow Mountain

Internet Refugees

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Samain (last day) and the Moon of New Beginnings

Shabbat gratefuls: Arjean and Tara. Eleanor and Kingsley. Generator. High Winds. The Grid. C.O.R.E. Lenovo. Ana. Natalie. Making the NYT. New computer. Getting it setup. Winter Solstice. Reading the news, books, magazines. Poetry. Morning darkness. Exercise. Shadow in boarding school. Joe in the U.S. Shabbat.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Starlink

Life Kavannah: Wu Wei    Shadow, my Wu Wei mistress

Week Kavannah:  Yirah.    Radical amazement, awe.  “The most beautiful thing we can experience is the mysterious. It is the source of all true art and all science. He to whom this emotion is a stranger, who can no longer pause to wonder and stand rapt in awe, is as good as dead: his eyes are closed.”
― Albert Einstein

Becoming a metaPhysician

One brief shining: The days have begun to march toward the end of another year, another orbit completed in our circular, cyclical, non-linear path around Great Sol, yet before we get there: Winter Solstice, Yule, Christmas Eve, Christmas, Kwanza, New Year’s Eve how wonderful, these are my days of awe brilliant with legend, filled with memories, wedded to us by centuries, millennia of human longing.

 

Friday: Internet refugees. With my generator chugging along and my Starlink antenna aimed toward the northern sky, I had both power and the internet. Tara and Arjean had neither thanks to an Xcel intentional shutdown. Both of them had work they needed to do, homework as it is these days, yet could not.

Tara asked if she and Arjean could come and work here. I’m delighted you want to. Come when you need, stay as long as you like. In addition to electricity and internet, I also have a large fenced in back yard. Eleanor and Kingsley needed a place to romp.

The generator, with very brief interruptions, ran from Wednesday around 1 pm to Friday around noon. Made me feel good to be able to share what it made possible.

Due to family Ana had to wait until yesterday to clean the house. For a while, I had three adults and two dogs here. Shadow Mountain home buzzed with energy.

To complete the day Natalie came over to pick up Shadow’s heartworm meds and we chatted about Shadow. She will come to Natalie and let her put on the leash. “Though,” Natalie says, “she still looks like she’s going to die.” She crosses the threshold coming in from outside, yet Natalie says she’s reluctant to go back out. Well, geez.

I’ve recovered my exercise rhythm and had completed my workout before everybody showed up.

A good Friday.

 

Just a moment:  For reasons I don’t fully understand, I’ve begun to feel optimistic about our political future. 11 months to the day in this abysmal simulacrum of governance the cracks in DJT’s obsessive, unfocused, unintentional approach (which have always been there) have begun to widen enough to include Republicans, even some of his MAGA cult members.

Yes, he has three more years and one month (no, I don’t believe he can get around the 22nd amendment) and can still do more damage, but my gut tells me the political zeitgeist has begun to turn against him. We will see.

 

AI, Friends, GeekWorld, Health

Ablated. And happy about it

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Samain and the Radiation Moon

Shabbat gratefuls: Brace. Steroids. Ablation. A medical trifecta. Possible surcease from pain of long standing. Long call with Ruth. Alan, the sherpa. All my close friends. Joanne. Marilyn and Irv. Luke and Leo. Tara and Eleanor. Ginny and Janice. Annie and Luna. Joe. Tom. Paul. Mark. Bill. A bit of Snow, now gone thanks to the solar snow shovel. Trending cold. Valium and Lyrica.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Radio frequency heat

Life Kavannah: Wu Wei    Shadow, my Wu Wei mistress

Week Kavannah:  Hakarat Hakov   Gratitude.    “Who is rich? Those who rejoice in their portion.” Perkei Avot 4:1

Tarot: Being a metaPhysician

One brief shining: The med tech with blond hair, a Grateful Dead fan, positioned me on the table, belly button in the center of the pillow, said this will be cold, he was right, then Dr. Gabriel said 1,2,3 before the needle with lidocaine went in for numbing, can you feel this thumping, no, the needles went in deep next to my spine delivering a radio frequency in the 350–500 kHz range which then, like a microwave oven, generated heat in the tissue around the nearby nerve thus cooking the proteins that facilitate transmission of pain from the nerve to the brain. As best I understand it.

 

That happened. Alan showed up in a puffy down vest for the cold weather, I grabbed one of my LLBean vests, my wallet, washed down two valiums and a Lyrica, and got in his intense blue BMV with leather seats, electric because that’s Alan. We were headed for Lonetree. Yet again for me.

As we drove, the drugs began to circulate, playing their necessary havoc with certain speech and motor functions. Valium boy, Alan called me.

Once I’d gotten off the table and into recovery, the CMA brought me water and soda crackers. I didn’t hurt, but the drugs had hit hard, making me unsteady on my feet and foggy.

Alan took me home, saw me open the door, and said, “I’ve gotta scoot.” He had a performance at Parkside Assisted Living in Aurora.

Once inside I took off my vest, put my wallet in its spot, went downstairs to let Shadow out. A little tricky, those stairs. Back upstairs for some food.

After letting Shadow back in, I thought, nap time. Shadow and I went into the bedroom around 1:30 pm. When I woke up, Shadow lay curled beside my pillow and the clock read, 8:30 pm. Well. That was the day, I guess.

A good day. Right now I’m feeling no pain at all but that could be the lidocaine. I won’t know the true results for a week or two.

So the week that was: I got braced, injected, and ablated. But wait! There’s more! Monday begins my ten sessions of radiation. A very, very medical holiseason for me. With life improving results I hope.

 

Just a moment: An AI bubble? So, so hard to say. Here’s a sentence that explains why some people think so: “By one measure, investments in computer equipment and software accounted for more than 90 percent of growth in gross domestic product in the first half of the year.” NYT, 11/22/25

My gut tells me this is not a bubble, rather an instance of tech thinkers outstripping the understanding of folks like me. I’m trusting greed and adventure to produce a happy, safe landing for us all. Time, as we say, will tell.

AI, Dogs, Fourth Phase, Garden, GeekWorld, Greenhouse, Health, Humanities, Our Land and Home, Shadow Mountain

Live Until You Die

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Beltane and the Greenhouse Moon

Wednesday gratefuls: My son. Shadow. Natalie. Mary. Guru. Seoah. Ruth. US Air Force. US Navy. US Army. US Marines. Warriors. Korea. Ruth in Seoul. Jamie and the radical roots of religion. My back. Lawn furniture. Nathan. The Greenhouse build. Living, not dying. Nothing hard is easy.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Plants

Week Kavannah: Zerizut for p.t. and resistance

One brief shining: Learning from Natalie as she explains reading a dog’s mind and feelings, head to the left or right, processing, as is walking away, not stubborn, figuring things out, wait, panting as a sign of worry, consent to hug or pet when Shadow comes up to me and stays or leaps up on my legs while I’m sitting down, two species, 15,000 years of partnership, much better understood by the one with the smaller brain.

 

A lot going on here on Shadow Mountain. A series of dog training moments, an hour or so, with Natalie. Nathan getting my greenhouse foundation ready, treating the Wood at his place for Shou Sugi Ban, delivering things he’ll need for his work. Two Kabbalah Experience classes nearing their end. Two hip MRI tomorrow. Keeping track of my son’s promotion and his visitors. Ruth in Korea. Receiving the money for the Jang family visit in August. Spring. Rains and Thunder.

Live until I die remains my mantra. Moving into tomorrow not as one less day, but as a time to anticipate, to savor, to enjoy. Natalie made an offhand comment, for example, about my needing outdoor furniture to enjoy my backyard. Oh? Well, duh. Looking through online catalogues. Probably go look in person somewhere.

This is, you see, my life. Not the anteroom for my death. No matter what’s going on. Not even if I ever need to move into hospice. Learning. Loving. Growing spiritually. Right. Up. To. The. End.

 

Dog journal: Natalie has skills. She’s deeply read and connected with other trainers in online chatgroups. She’s dedicated to positive training. No shock collars. No harshness. Rather. Learning the heart and mind of dogs. Applying that in problem situations to recognize, then shape behaviors.

An example. Using feeding time to increase trust with Shadow. Feeding her from my hand makes her associate me with her food. “It’s all about the grub,” Natalie says. The walk, drop a treat behind, change direction game gives Shadow the choice to follow me. At some point she’ll just follow me. Working next on getting her to come inside voluntarily and like it. Walking on a leash.

I recognize and admire Ana’s house cleaning, Natalie’s training, and Nathan’s careful work.

A lot of dystopians imagine a world where A.I. puts humans out of work, yet makes enough cash available for a no work life. This will be awful, directionless, purposeless.

No. I don’t believe it. I believe the essence of the human experience lies in relating to each other, to animals near and far, in growing our own food at some level. In painting. Sculpture. Dog training. Construction. Cooking. Conversation. The joys of retirement.

 

AI, Denver, Friends, GeekWorld, Politics, US History, World History

Precursor Chemicals for a World War

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Beltane and the Wu Wei Moon II

Shabbat gratefuls: A day of teshuvah. Returning to the land of my soul. To the me as I was thrown into the post-war world. Pain. Oh. My. Leo XIV. Rerum Natura of Pope Leo XIII. A world that cries out for justice. Love, compassion, and justice = leadership. Eh, Paul? Shadow. A good night’s sleep.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Standing upright in the world

Week Kavannah: Zerizut. Enthusiasm.

One brief shining: Walking in to the bathroom, the shiny new restaurant, a Cheese Cake Factory, had no customers, only anxious waiters, greeters, cooks, runners dressed in black like faux monastics waiting to go into service, anticipation rolling through them like slow waves of prayer.

 

Alan got a free invite to the soft opening of a new Cheescake Factory at Colorado Mills. Free food. A chance to enter a birthing, another mostly identical sibling for other Cheesecake Factories came out of its construction womb into the full light of a new business day.

First, the manager of the Colorado Mills, Kirma, came to our table and greeted Alan. She’s in Evergreen Rotary with him. A big get for her, this well-known anchor level restaurant.

Over the course of our meal, the service manager who had recently hired 305 people to work in the new restaurant, stopped by. Alan chatted her up. After she left, he said, “This is where I live. Corporate training.” He managed all the sales training for Centurylink before he retired.

Earlier in the morning I had breakfast with Marilyn and Irv at Primo’s, the small cafe near their home in King’s Valley. Marilyn and Salam left this morning for Jacksonville, Florida to visit Marilyn and Irv’s son. From Jacksonville they fly on to Cozumel for another Grandmother-Granddaughter trip.

By the time I got home. Whew.

 

Just a moment: I listen like a fanboy to Hardfork, the NYT podcast on high tech, mostly AI. This latest entry casts a very interesting light on the personas of AI’s. Hosts Kevin Roose and Casey Newton point to a trend in AI responses that are overly congratulatory, That’s a great business plan!, or biased toward positive responses, Your attitude toward vaccines makes you special!

They associate this turn toward the obsequious with the likes of social media.  Whatever keeps the user in front of the screen longest. Hallucinations and objectivity be damned. This level of customer pleasing could wreck a key feature of AI: its reputation for honesty. Yes, it has hallucinations, but they are not intentional. This is.

 

Trump Tarrific has begun attempts to unravel the mess he’s made of the world economy. Some sorta deal with Britain. Talks of talks with China. Let’s make a deal!

America First, of course, has the unintended consequence of sullying the reputation of our once hegemonic nation. Or, perhaps I’m wrong, perhaps that lowering of the flag is exactly the point. Disentangle us from world shaping responsibilities. A casual attitude toward the plight of others, a laser focus on the perceived solutions to problems at home. This is blood and soil nationalism, the precursor chemicals for world wars.

Dogs, GeekWorld, Great Work, Politics

Sins of Emission. No, Onan, Not You.

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Beltane and the Wu Wei Moon II

Tuesday gratefuls: Rental Camry. Snow today. Rain overnight. Thunder yesterday afternoon. Seasonal transition. Still late Winter here. Or very early Spring. Shadow, who needs her space. My wu wei teacher. My Lodgepole companion. Aspen catkins. Lodgepole male and female cones. Grass, greening. Good sleeping. Dependable organic alarm clock. Learning about Abraham Joshua Heschel. The Shema. Mah Tovu. My mezuzahs.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: The Lord and the Lady

Week Kavannah: Enthusiasm. Zerizut.

One brief shining: Drove down the hill yesterday to Stevinson Toyota, Ruby needing IV fluids for her transmission, her differential, her brakes, and her motor oil so I had to leave her at the clinic, take a rental to drive back up into the Mountains.

 

Chatgpt favors symmetry over all. It left out the seventh sin: Oligarchy

Each time I have work done on my infernal combustion engine, I have a strong anachronistic feeling. Like a guy sitting in the buggy repair shop getting a broken spoke repaired, or split tongue. Perhaps having the buggy whip replaited.

Sins of commission and emission. All those miles over 62 years of driving. All those rush hours. All those times with the car idling to keep the interior warm. Trips in and out of gas stations. In and out of repair shops. Until not so long ago, ordinary, venal we might say. Now one of the seven deadly ones, maybe the deadliest in a literal sense.

Perhaps Hell is perennial eye watering smog, acid rain, Phoenix in summer heat, and everyone in MHGA hats. With red ties so long everybody trips, falls in the polluted mud.

Hoping the Snow holds off long enough for me to pick up Ruby before it gets heavy. She has Snow tires. The Camry does not.

This morning I have to vote in the Elk Creek Fire board election, keep the libertarian trolls under their bridges. Then scoot over to Evergreen, to Rich’s law offices to sign what I hope is the last communication about Ruth’s 529.

I-70 down to Hwy. 6 to liberate Ruby from the clinic. After paying her hefty bill of course. Worth it. Her transmission, differential, and brakes work extra hard during Mountain driving.

 

Dog journal: Shadow requires wide open doors. Then she feels safe coming in. Some times. A new learning on my part. She knew it all along.

Even when she refused to come inside-most of yesterday-if I went outside, she ran to me tail-wagging, play bowing, happy I was outside. Some trauma runs deep in her doggy psyche. Post-traumatic stress, I’d say.

She’s come so far from her days of hiding under the bed.

 

Just a moment: Fog among the Lodgepoles this morning. Reminds me of red tie guy’s flood the zone strategy. Raised an obscuring fog as DOGE dug their precocious hacking fingers deep into the entrails of U.S. payment systems. As ICE agents in plain clothes hustled foreign students into vans for a free trip to Louisiana. As Trump Tarrific played his anti-globalist cards here, there, then everywhere. As judge’s orders went unheeded. As retribution against his enemies gained steam, using the powers of his office.

Oh, America. My heart weeps for thee.