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Philosophist comments on Open Thread, Jun. 8 - Jun. 14, 2015 - Less Wrong Discussion

4 Post author: Gondolinian 08 June 2015 12:04AM

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Comment author: Philosophist 13 June 2015 02:39:43PM *  0 points [-]

I hope I'm posting this correctly. I swear that I did my best to research how to use open threads here but to no avail. This is a poem I posted a few days ago in discussion, and I am attempting to have it talked about in open thread where it "belongs."

I've been considering poetry that I write of this nature to be of a Reason/Cyberpunk/Transhuman sort of genre. Feedback would be appreciated.

I forever wish to change from who I am today,
Yet as I am today, I do not wish to cease.
Who am I in this moment?
I am nothing to myself without the passage of time

If I had no fear of death,
Would I have a wish to live?
I can deny cynicism.
Can I verify optimism?

Must euphoria define my goals?
Every euphoric drive has served to continue my existence.
From the beginning mechanisms of life, I have emerged
Passed through millions/billions of small keyholes of existence

A package of information, which served to create me
Developed me to fit my environment.
Existing just to continue to exist.
An axiom of my function

Euphoria drives me
Skepticism contradicts me
I cannot withhold judgement on the purpose of existing.
To enjoy the show is to accept this euphoria as my chosen purpose in the end.

Can I want without pleasure?
Can my wants be reasoned?
Why do I want to enjoy the show,
Yet not to be consumed or confined to an eternity of bliss?

Is dignity and pride different from euphoric drives?
Are they the strategies and philosophies of my existence?
Can I be more obsessed with finding the perfect design for myself,
Than with finding bliss? Are they functionally different?

Comment author: gjm 14 June 2015 01:03:53AM 3 points [-]

Yup, the open thread is a reasonable place to post poetry.

I have a bit of feedback but it may not be very useful: I don't see what this gains from being presented as poetry. If you removed all the line breaks and the capital letters at the starts of lines, would its impact be much different? If you replaced each line with a paraphrase, would much change? (Would it be ... functionally different?)

Perhaps my view of poetry is terribly conventional and old-fashioned: I think it's usually distinguished from non-poetry by some combination of (1) concern for sound as much as for sense, (2) repetition (of sounds, of ideas, of patterns of stress, etc.), (3) compression (via allusion, ambiguity, exquisite control of nuances), and (4) constraint (on syllable counts, appearance on the page, rhyme scheme, etc.). If something doesn't have much of any of these, then for me the experience of reading it is different enough from that of reading more "central" examples of poetry that I don't see why it should go in the same pigeonhole.

(For the avoidance of doubt, "poetic" is not remotely the same thing as "good". Writing can be very, very good with rather little of #1, none of #2, scarcely any of #3, and none of #4. And writing can be indubitably poetry but also utterly terrible.)

Comment author: TrE 13 June 2015 05:26:33PM 1 point [-]

This is a good place to post your poem.

Comment author: [deleted] 30 June 2015 03:23:28AM *  0 points [-]

Thank you for the read.

You've brought to my mind an interesting realization. "Rationalist" art forms don't really have their own place, as of yet. (That I've noticed.)

And it seems interesting that I've lurked as long as I have without coming across any attempt to grow from the Savannah-Poet mindset, as put forth in Eliezer's writings on Reductionism.

Perhaps the reception is due to running against the grain, concerning language use in poetry? The content strikes me as something a budding philosopher might wonder at, although I would refer the subject of the poem to Eliezer's writings The Gift We Give Tomorrow, and his Fun Theory Sequence. Read aloud it did not grate my ears.

I might have overreached here, but I hope I have been useful.

EDIT: Please do continue with your artistic ambitions. They are part our charge, something to protect. Even if it's place in the new arts is small.