Hugh,
I've been blogging for 7 years. In that time there was a significant period when I was working 60-70 hours a week, as well as managing to read, have a relationship, and, running two weblogs (since I didn't run GNXP as a diary, and pre-scheduled many of my posts, I assume you weren't aware of this). So I got used to making the particular trade-offs you see. In the comments I focused on quantity and not so much on quality. As for the posts themselves, I tried to focus on substance and not care too much about style (e.g., I did a quick once over but then published). Since I had very little marginal time that was just what I had to do.
So, from your perspective I can see why it would be eminently reasonable to wonder why I wouldn't capitalize. But you aren't, or weren't, subject to the same trade-offs as I was on a day to day level. So why did I, and do I, blog? Well, I've met some incredibly intelligent people, and made some awesome contacts. Many people at the Singularity Institute (e.g., Michael Vassar, who began reading my weblogs well before he was Mr. Singularity Institute President) for example, but also many people in science and outside of science. I also managed to get a fellowship out of it. I understand why implicitly I might have made myself seem a bit less intelligent than I was because of the stylistic ticks which I've developed over the years, but this is a case where obviously I feel I've presented myself well enough to the people who "count." The primary payment I've received for blogging all these years are the people in the comments who have sent me links, critiqued ideas, etc.
So if the people who "count" to me did make suggestions stylistically (as they have on occasion), I would take notice. But as it is, none of them have complained about my capitalization, though they have about other things.
In any case, there was a time where I would want to present myself in a way where LW readers would take me as seriously as possible. For a variety of reasons, that really isn't that time, and I try and avoid most weblogs and conversations on most weblogs (I'm splitting myself between 3 right now). I've reached pretty my "Dunbar's Number" for intelligent people I've met through my weblog (I also tended to discount comments from.
As for the disagreement with Eliezer, it's gotten me thinking. Some of the differences are long-standing. I enjoy hanging out with Eliezer's gang, but I think I'm a lot more pessimistic than they are about human nature in general. Perhaps a BHTV episode in the future? I'm doing one for the 17th of October already with John Hawks, so way in the future probably.
The time you just spent defending yourself with boasts and trying to imply that those who request grammar are beneath you has more than offset the time you will save by neglecting the shift key across your entire lifespan.
Razib summarized my entire cognitive biases talk at the Singularity Summit 2009 as saying: "Most people are stupid."
Hey! That's a bit unfair. I never said during my talk that most people are stupid. In fact, I was very careful not to say, at any point, that people are stupid, because that's explicitly not what I believe.
I don't think that people who believe in single-world quantum mechanics are stupid. John von Neumann believed in a collapse postulate.
I don't think that philosophers who believe in the "possibility" of zombies are stupid. David Chalmers believes in zombies.
I don't even think that theists are stupid. Robert Aumann believes in Orthodox Judaism.
And in the closing sentence of my talk on cognitive biases and existential risk, I did not say that humanity was devoting more resources to football than existential risk prevention because we were stupid.
There's an old joke that runs as follows:
A motorist is driving past a mental hospital when he gets a flat tire.
He goes out to change the tire, and sees that one of the patients is watching him through the fence.
Nervous, trying to work quickly, he jacks up the car, takes off the wheel, puts the lugnuts into the hubcap -
And steps on the hubcap, sending the lugnuts clattering into a storm drain.
The mental patient is still watching him through the fence.
The motorist desperately looks into the storm drain, but the lugnuts are gone.
The patient is still watching.
The motorist paces back and forth, trying to think of what to do -
And the patient says,
"Take one lugnut off each of the other tires, and you'll have three lugnuts on each."
"That's brilliant!" says the motorist. "What's someone like you doing in an asylum?"
"I'm here because I'm crazy," says the patient, "not because I'm stupid."