>David [Rosdeitcher], this post makes less logical sense than your previous
ones. Do
>you agree? If so, why?
>
>Also, I always get the impression that, after a rebuttal to one of your
>posts, you go off and confer with the Neo-Tech Central Committee or
>whatever and get fed the ammunition for the next salvo. Is this true?
>
>David Rotweiller wrote:
Richard, you're using a whole bunch of heavy-handed social aggression memes
there, old son!
1 Ask David to back up YOUR statements in public?
2 Accuse him of only working as part of a group? Of conferring with
hidden Others? Well I do that all the time; I spoke to my dad last night
about Complexity processes in the development of ecosystems, Simon and
Stuart at work gave me some idiom and insults, my brothers gave me whole
chunks of group cognitive processing ideas... it's hardly fair to ask David
to fight on his own. Memetically, there's no such thing as "on your own."
3 "...or whatever"? You're attempting to bully David into thinking
that, because /you/ don't consider Neo-Tech worth a lot of thought, he
shouldn't either? I think that's the effect of phrases like "oh yeh, gone
running off to your big scary gang... whatever its stupid name is"... that's
how those memes attack memetic ecologies...
4 Me: Richard, have you been calling David Rosdeitcher "David
Rottweiler"?
Me: Might have. Bit.
Me: Oh, Richard... why? You're ususally such a clever boy.
RB: Well, it's cos nobody likes having the name handed down to
them through generations of their genetic forebears mutated into the name of
a non-hominid species, do they? So, I thought if I fired this meme into his
memetic ecology, it'd have a general dampening or disorienting effect,
lowering the resilience of that memetic ecology, wouldn't it?
Me: Well yes, it might, but why? Can't you at least be polite?
RB: But... [cries] but I want to be a part of David's mind, my
memes want his cognitive processing resource, he's got loads, and anyway,
other people are firing their memes in there too, I know they are, nasty
people I hate them...
Me: Who's that then, Richard? [silence] ...hmmm?
RB: [mumbles] neo... neo
Me: So it's Neotech, then. Oh, what can I do with these
fractally modular structures of non-cultural cognitive associations and
memes? They just can't play together nicely... can you?
RB: [snuffle] nnn... nnn... no.
Me: Now you know the rules: the science/logic-synthesis metameme
says that you...?
RB: ...[sigh] that you only transmit memes that undermine
submemes close in Hamming-space to the centre of gravity of the metameme
just transmitted by your opponent...
Me: Yes?
RB: And you don't transmit memes that primarily depress activity
in the limbic system, causing a general dampening of memetic processing in
cortical systems.
Me: Why's that?
RB: Because then, [final sniff] if you walk away from the
argument, the opponent's limbic system could wake up again, and whichever of
your intellectual memes got into their memetic ecosystem stand a good chance
of getting leathered-
Me: Leathered, Richard? Really...
RB: Sorry. Outcompeted by the opponent's previously dominant
memes, when those memes come back on line ...Whereas if you stick to
undermining the submemes of the specific metamemes that the argument's
about, then you may well cause limbic dampening anyway, plus when the
opponent's personality reboots, your attacking intellectual memes will still
be in there with it.
Me: Good, Richard. Now if you know the rules, you should be out
there teaching the children who don't, shouldn't you?
RB: Yes... *DR DAWKINS*.
HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HAAAAAAAAA!!!!
Yes! I am He!
Dave Pape /IS/ Richard Dawkins!
How else could I describe realistically the interior of the Oxford
University Psychology and Zoology building? How else would I know how plants
hang from the walls of New College Lane, down near the gargoyle of the
scarab beetles on the dung-ball, on the way towards the Bridge of Sighs,
towards Edmund Halley's house, where he had the observatory? I sat in that
observatory- it's still a student house to this day, owned by New College,
my College! Where I made religious students weep as their belief systems
collapsed, where I got the bitter letters telling me that I was right, but
that the weak amongst my readership so soorly wished that I had been wrong,
that there might be life after death, that they ever made a choice, or
mattered more than any bacterium.
Hooray for flowers and books and things.
Dave Pape
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