Star Slate Codex readers may remember the prime number factorisation experimental protocol (http://slatestarcodex.com/2015/04/21/universal-love-said-the-cactus-person/). It’s one of many dangerous but high impact rationality experiments that I have had (not longer) an interest in testing. Before I got serious about rationality I was getting increasingly mentally ill. I was considered to be in the prodrome of schizophrenia and even experienced (though I was skeptical about the veracity of my memory, till this recent experience which helped remind me of the subjective experience) ‘’first episode of psychosis’’. I believe that immersion in the rationality community helped me eventually get discharged from early-psychosis intervention, get taken off anti-psychotics and to no longer be considered psychotic in any way shape of form. This is unpresedented, since it is generally believe the progress of schizophrenia is such that there is no such remission. So I reckon it’s my social duty to explore this and see if my story can be of value to others: raising the sanity waterline if you will.

This post will be the first in a multi-post series about the most recent such journey and why I have given it up. I hope it serves as a warning and caution to those with the gall to do similar things, and some insight into the limits of rationality to more mainstream rationalists. To anyone looking for something profound in this post without using their own powers to draw more from it than I saw straight up, I recommend you skip this one and keep an eye out for the follow-up posts since this is basically background information.

I had noticed a man wearing a plain pastel green shirt. No that’s too generous: plain pastel green tabard, a big nose and haphazardly braided hair aboard the trip. I assumed he was a kind of hippy tourist that was trying to hard and had gone out of his way to make his own clothing. I assume a gentle nature. As I left the ship he shoved past me through a tight corridor. It would be the first in a string of assumptions I would make that night that would plunge me into and out of harrowing world where I would explore the fringes of rationality.

Tonight was the culmination of years of planning and preparation. ‘Do you know where Mellow Mountain is?’ I asked the receptionist. She pointed at the raised platform in the dark of the rocks way above, looking over the waves. The stairs were rickety and lights didn’t pave the way. I had expected a happy looking hut. I had passed two drunkards a km away who had pointed me in this direction and said that the mafia pay off the local authorities. I thought they were talking about the locan mafia. I later had reason to believe they were referring to the Russian mafia. Open secrets. I had read online that the place was towards one end of the beach when I had chanced upon this place of accommodation. It was just what I was looking for: somewhere close by to retreat to. I thought it would be my sanctuary. I was so wrong.

There was a row of very dark skinned Thais at a bench overlooking the steps. They didn’t look up as a passed, they all paid attention to their smartphones. The whole place was really odd. The music was lurid, not traditional drug music. It was a rather scary place. It was dark, and none of the Thais smiled. I looked at the first bar. There was marajuana art around. This wasn’t the place I was looking for. I went further in and saw a second bar, tucked into the corner. There were no signs, no prices, nothing advertised. This must be it.

I asked the bartender: ‘Can I have one?’. He asked ‘what do you want?’. I felt a lump in my throat. If the rumours weren’t true, this could be a big mistake. Thailand takes drug crime very seriously. I asked for a ‘milkshake’. The man went to the back. It was an obtuse time, just like I wanted. There didn’t seem to be any eyes on me. I peeped over and observed. It looked like he and his coworker were preparing some kind of root by chopping it up. It was dark coloured. It didn’t look like a mushroom. The drink prepared didn’t look anything like a milkshake: there was clearly no milk in it. It didn’t taste mushroomy. I drank it and retreated. The effects were initially mild. I waited to get a sense for how much lead time I had before I had to retreat to a safer space when I downed a second drink. I saw the boats at sea driving around. I thought maybe they were patrol boats sponsored by the local mafia to ensure there were no drug related deaths at sea: a sure fire way to curb tourism. From past experiences I know I have extreme tollerance for hallucinogenic experiences. For instance, with concentration and reason I can flux into and out of lucidity during DMT trips, irrespective of dose.

Soon I returned to those stairs, quite clearly affected, yet not arousing the attention of the dark skinned Thai’s above still who had probably and/or experienced all kinds of things in their day. I guessed they were the local mafia. In the lead up to my return for seconds I had enjoyed embracing the sand, looking out at the waves from the beach, tried seeing if I could have a more nuanced reading of Rationality from AI to zombies and explored past memories, cognitive functioning and such. Now it was time for me to reach a so called ‘Level 5 trip’ (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Psychedelic_experience#Level_5_.28Ineffable.29).

What happened over the course of the night will have a seperate post. This post has just been relevant background information. The rationality experiments and my interpretations are coming in the next.

I will give the post’s Latin names to make them easy to find. I don’t want to post so much so I will combine various maxims into say 2 seperate post. The maxims aptly describe the relevant themes:

Tantum nimirum ex publicis malis sentimus, quantum ad privatas res pertinet : nec in iis quicquam acrius quam pecuniae damnum stimulat. - We feel public misfortunes just so far as they affect our private circumstances, and nothing of this nature appeals more directly to us than the loss of money (Livy).

goldBis interimitur qui suis armis perit - He is doubly destroyed who perishes by his own arms. (Syrus)

Acerrima proximorum odia - The hatred of those most nearly connected is the bitterest of all (Tacit)

aegri somnia vana - a sick man's dream

Facilis descensus averno - The descent to Avernus (Hell) is easy (Virgil)

Graviora manent - Greater dangers await (Virgil)

Tempus edax rerum - Time is the devourer of things Una salus victis nullam sperare salutem - The one safety for the vanquished is to abandon hope of safety (Virgil)

Acclinis falsis animus meliora recusat - The mind intent upon false appearances refuses to admit better things (Horace)