This one might be a bit embarrasing. After spending a couple of weeks trying to read Aristotle's Prior and Posterior Analytics, I decided that I must be one of the world's experts on it, so I wrote this essay and posted it on the FOM list. It includes some lambda calculus expressions that I never got around to trying out. I know at least one person looked at it as a result! 😂 This essay, which is mostly quotes, was written a couple of years later, and will show how my thinking changed over that time: Economics II. The answer is, not much:
Then, in April 2013, in Economics II:
Now, if anybody thinks I was overly harsh in my judgement of freemasons, then they need to consider these three paragraphs, the first of which includes a description of my direct experience in the automatic car-wash in front of the Co-operative Bank, next to the main Bus Terminal, shortly before I entered the bank and stated my intention to take the money. When asked which money, I replied "The people's money" which earned me a well-deserved facefull of pepper-spray from the policeman who was asking me these questions. The reason for my strange behaviour was that I had been given some sort of opioid mixture in alcohol, and it was the second time in three days that I had been drugged without my prior consent. See On Psychobotanics and Neurology (see note * below)
So, that 48 page essay was written after I had received this treatment. It seemed fairly clear to me at the time of writing that I had an unseen enemy, and freemasons seemed to be the most likely candidates. But if anyone wants to argue that being drugged as I was was the cause of my going insane, then I think that this essay proves them wrong. And if anyone thinks I predicted the outcome of the 2016 US Presidential Election correctly, well, I hope so! 😂
* I will add that during this period of drug-induced madness, I was quite aware of my own physical body, and my sense of physical self was perfectly intact. I noted a strange effect of the drug was to alter my judgement of the relative sizes of objects as judged by my feet and my hands. So for example, a pebble under my toes (I was wearing only a pair of thin socks at the time) felt very much smaller that it felt when I reached down and felt it with my fingers. There may be video of me doing this as a traversed around the edge of the car-wash (which was operating at the time!) 🤦 I will also add that my sense of moral responsibility for my actions was far, far stronger than normal. I felt I was being examined by invisible beings, and that this was a test of moral courage, and in fact, I believed that I had to die in order to pass the test, and that is the actual reason why I entered the bank and stated my intention to rob it. The policeman on duty was armed with a pump-action shotgun, and just before walking up to him, I had lacerated my forehead with a piece of steel re-inforcing rod, so I probably had some blood on my face, and you will understand then why I was quite surprised when he only sprayed me with pepper-spray. But I played dead all the same. Some drugs give you very strange ideas about your self!
This is the first time I have recounted these experiences in writing, but they will be familiar to Ron Davis and Diane Bellomy, because I told them about my CBBA adventures a week later, after I got back to La Paz. See Can Someone Help Me Out Here Please. Ron Davis sometimes speaks derisively of "ratiocinating", perhaps he should listen to this:
Then, in April 2013, in Economics II:
Now, if anybody thinks I was overly harsh in my judgement of freemasons, then they need to consider these three paragraphs, the first of which includes a description of my direct experience in the automatic car-wash in front of the Co-operative Bank, next to the main Bus Terminal, shortly before I entered the bank and stated my intention to take the money. When asked which money, I replied "The people's money" which earned me a well-deserved facefull of pepper-spray from the policeman who was asking me these questions. The reason for my strange behaviour was that I had been given some sort of opioid mixture in alcohol, and it was the second time in three days that I had been drugged without my prior consent. See On Psychobotanics and Neurology (see note * below)
So, that 48 page essay was written after I had received this treatment. It seemed fairly clear to me at the time of writing that I had an unseen enemy, and freemasons seemed to be the most likely candidates. But if anyone wants to argue that being drugged as I was was the cause of my going insane, then I think that this essay proves them wrong. And if anyone thinks I predicted the outcome of the 2016 US Presidential Election correctly, well, I hope so! 😂
* I will add that during this period of drug-induced madness, I was quite aware of my own physical body, and my sense of physical self was perfectly intact. I noted a strange effect of the drug was to alter my judgement of the relative sizes of objects as judged by my feet and my hands. So for example, a pebble under my toes (I was wearing only a pair of thin socks at the time) felt very much smaller that it felt when I reached down and felt it with my fingers. There may be video of me doing this as a traversed around the edge of the car-wash (which was operating at the time!) 🤦 I will also add that my sense of moral responsibility for my actions was far, far stronger than normal. I felt I was being examined by invisible beings, and that this was a test of moral courage, and in fact, I believed that I had to die in order to pass the test, and that is the actual reason why I entered the bank and stated my intention to rob it. The policeman on duty was armed with a pump-action shotgun, and just before walking up to him, I had lacerated my forehead with a piece of steel re-inforcing rod, so I probably had some blood on my face, and you will understand then why I was quite surprised when he only sprayed me with pepper-spray. But I played dead all the same. Some drugs give you very strange ideas about your self!
This is the first time I have recounted these experiences in writing, but they will be familiar to Ron Davis and Diane Bellomy, because I told them about my CBBA adventures a week later, after I got back to La Paz. See Can Someone Help Me Out Here Please. Ron Davis sometimes speaks derisively of "ratiocinating", perhaps he should listen to this:
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