Si no lo hicieres o en ello dilación maliciosamente pusieres, os certifico que con la ayuda de Dios entraré poderosamente contra vosotros y os haré guerra por todas las partes y maneras que tuviere y sujeraré al yugo y obediencias de la iglesia y de sus Altezas y tomaré vuestras personas y las de vuestras mujeres e hijos y los haré esclavos y como tales los venderé y dispondré de ellos como su Alteza mandare, y os tomaré vuestros bienes, y os haré todos los males y daños que pudiere como a vasallos que no obedecen y que no quieren recibir a sus señor y le resisten y contradicen y protesto de los muertes y daños que de ellos se registrarén serán a cupa vuestra y no de sus Altezas ni mía, ni de estos caballeros que conmigo vinieron y de como lo digo, requiero, pido al presente Escribano que me lo de como testimonio firmado y a los presentes ruego que de ello sean testigo.

(Source: revolucionnaturalista.com)

(…) In the so-called ages of faith, when men really did believe the Christian religion in all its completeness, there was the Inquisition, with all its tortures; there were millions of unfortunate women burned as witches; and there was every kind of cruelty practiced upon all sorts of people in the name of religion.

You find as you look around the world that every single bit of progress in humane feeling, every improvement in the criminal law, every step toward the diminution of war, every step toward better treatment of the colored races, or every mitigation of slavery, every moral progress that there has been in the world, has been consistently opposed by the organized churches of the world. I say quite deliberately that the Christian religion, as organized in its churches, has been and still is the principal enemy of moral progress in the world.

Bertrand Russell

(Source: users.drew.edu)

(…) I may say that when I was a young man and was debating these questions very seriously in my mind, I for a long time accepted the argument of the First Cause, until one day, at the age of eighteen, I read John Stuart Mill’s Autobiography, and I there found this sentence: “My father taught me that the question ‘Who made me?’ cannot be answered, since it immediately suggests the further question `Who made god?’” That very simple sentence showed me, as I still think, the fallacy in the argument of the First Cause. If everything must have a cause, then God must have a cause. If there can be anything without a cause, it may just as well be the world as God, so that there cannot be any validity in that argument. It is exactly of the same nature as the Hindu’s view, that the world rested upon an elephant and the elephant rested upon a tortoise; and when they said, “How about the tortoise?” the Indian said, “Suppose we change the subject.” The argument is really no better than that. There is no reason why the world could not have come into being without a cause; nor, on the other hand, is there any reason why it should not have always existed. There is no reason to suppose that the world had a beginning at all. The idea that things must have a beginning is really due to the poverty of our imagination. Therefore, perhaps, I need not waste any more time upon the argument about the First Cause.
Bertrand Russell

(Source: users.drew.edu)

En verdad, quien poco posee, tanto menos es poseido.
Asi hablo Zaratustra
I would request that my body in death be buried not cremated, so that the energy content contained within it gets returned to the earth, so that flora and fauna can dine upon it, just as I have dined upon flora and fauna during my lifetime.
Neil deGrasse Tyson

fuckyeahfriedrichnietzsche:

All passions have a phase when they are merely disastrous, when they drag down their victim with the weight of stupidity — and a later, very much later phase when they wed the spirit, when they “spiritualize” themselves. Formerly, in view of the element of stupidity in passion, war was declared on passion itself, its destruction was plotted; all the old moral monsters are agreed on this: il faut tuer les passions. The most famous formula for this is to be found in the New Testament, in that Sermon on the Mount, where, incidentally, things are by no means looked at from a height. There it is said, for example, with particular reference to sexuality: “If thy eye offend thee, pluck it out.” Fortunately, no Christian acts in accordance with this precept. Destroying the passions and cravings, merely as a preventive measure against their stupidity and the unpleasant consequences of this stupidity — today this itself strikes us as merely another acute form of stupidity. We no longer admire dentists who “pluck out” teeth so that they will not hurt any more.

To be fair, it should be admitted, however, that on the ground out of which Christianity grew, the concept of the “spiritualization of passion” could never have been formed. After all, the first church, as is well known, fought against the “intelligent” in favor of the “poor in spirit.” How could one expect from it an intelligent war against passion? The church fights passion with excision in every sense: its practice, its “cure,” is castratism. It never asks: “How can one spiritualize, beautify, deify a craving?” It has at all times laid the stress of discipline on extirpation (of sensuality, of pride, of the lust to rule, of avarice, of vengefulness). But an attack on the roots of passion means an attack on the roots of life: the practice of the church is hostile to life.

— Friedrich Nietzsche

I am your hero!

I am your master!

Learn my arts,

Seek my way.

Learn as I learned,

Seek as I sought.

Envy me!

Aim at me!

Rival me!

Transcend me!

Look back,

Smile,

And then—

Eyes front!

I was never your city,

Just a stretch of your road.

(Source: lesswrong.com)

When one watches some tired hack on the platform mechanically repeating the familiar phrases—- bestial, atrocities, iron heel, bloodstained tyranny, free peoples of the world, stand shoulder to shoulder —one often has a curious feeling that one is not watching a live human being but some kind of dummy… A speaker who uses that kind of phraseology has gone some distance toward turning himself into a machine. The appropriate noises are coming out of his larynx, but his brain is not involved, as it would be if he were choosing his words for himself…

What is above all needed is to let the meaning choose the word, and not the other way around. In prose, the worst thing one can do with words is surrender to them. When you think of a concrete object, you think wordlessly, and then, if you want to describe the thing you have been visualising you probably hunt about until you find the exact words that seem to fit it. When you think of something abstract you are more inclined to use words from the start, and unless you make a conscious effort to prevent it, the existing dialect will come rushing in and do the job for you, at the expense of blurring or even changing your meaning. Probably it is better to put off using words as long as possible and get one’s meaning as clear as one can through pictures and sensations.

- Orwell

¡los otros están tan seguros de ser libres y este buen humor es tan contagioso!
Camus

Numbers were invented to count things, that is their purpose. The first numbers were simple scratches used as tally marks circa 35,000 BC. The way the counts add up was derived from the way physical objects add up when grouped together. The only way to change the way numbers work is to change the way physical objects work when grouped together. Physical reality is the basis for numbers, so to change number theory you must first show that it is inconsistent with reality.

(…)

All of mathematics are, in reality, nothing more than extremely advanced counting. If it is not related to the physical world, then there is no reason for it to exist. It follows rules first derived from the physical world, even if the current principles of mathematics have been extrapolated far beyond the bounds of the strictly physical. I think people lose sight of this far too easily (or worse, never recognize it in the first place). 

(Source: lesswrong.com)

 (…)

The brain is a flawed lens through which to see reality. This is true of both mouse brains and human brains. But a human brain is a flawed lens that can understand its own flaws—its systematic errors, its biases—and apply second-order corrections to them. This, in practice, makes the flawed lens far more powerful. Not perfect, but far more powerful.

(Source: lesswrong.com)

 (…)

“Biases” are distinguished from errors that arise from damage to an individual human brain, or from absorbed cultural mores; biases arise from machinery that is humanly universal.

Plato wasn’t “biased” because he was ignorant of General Relativity - he had no way to gather that information, his ignorance did not arise from the shape of his mental machinery. But if Plato believed that philosophers would make better kings because he himself was a philosopher - and this belief, in turn, arose because of a universal adaptive political instinct for self-promotion, and not because Plato’s daddy told him that everyone has a moral duty to promote their own profession to governorship, or because Plato sniffed too much glue as a kid - then that was a bias, whether Plato was ever warned of it or not.

Biases may not be cheap to correct. They may not even be correctable. But where we look upon our own mental machinery and see a causal account of an identifiable class of errors; and when the problem seems to come from the evolved shape of the machinery, rather from there being too little machinery, or bad specific content; then we call that a bias.

 (…) 

(Source: lesswrong.com)

If we look at a glass closely enough we see the entire universe. There are the things of physics: the twisting liquid which evaporates depending on the wind and weather, the reflections in the glass, and our imaginations adds the atoms. The glass is a distillation of the Earth’s rocks, and in its composition we see the secret of the universe’s age, and the evolution of the stars. What strange array of chemicals are there in the wine? How did they come to be? There are the ferments, the enzymes, the substrates, and the products. There in wine is found the great generalization: all life is fermentation. Nobody can discover the chemistry of wine without discovering, as did Louis Pasteur, the cause of much disease. How vivid is the claret, pressing its existence into the consciousness that watches it! If our small minds, for some convenience, divide this glass of wine, this universe, into parts — physics, biology, geology, astronomy, psychology, and so on — remember that Nature does not know it! So let us put it all back together, not forgetting ultimately what it is for. Let it give us one more final pleasure: drink it and forget it all!
Richard Feynman

 (…)

Now what are we to think of a scientist who seems competent inside the laboratory, but who, outside the laboratory, believes in a spirit world? We ask why, and the scientist says something along the lines of: “Well, no one really knows, and I admit that I don’t have any evidence - it’s a religious belief, it can’t be disproven one way or another by observation.” I cannot but conclude that this person literally doesn’t know why you have to look at things. They may have been taught a certain ritual of experimentation, but they don’t understand the reason for it - that to map a territory, you have to look at it - that to gain information about the environment, you have to undergo a causal process whereby you interact with the environment and end up correlated to it. This applies just as much to a double-blind experimental design that gathers information about the efficacy of a new medical device, as it does to your eyes gathering information about your shoelaces.

Maybe our spiritual scientist says: “But it’s not a matter for experiment. The spirits spoke to me in my heart.” Well, if we really suppose that spirits are speaking in any fashion whatsoever, that is a causal interaction and it counts as an observation. Probability theory still applies. If you propose that some personal experience of “spirit voices” is evidence for actual spirits, you must propose that there is a favorable likelihood ratio for spirits causing “spirit voices”, as compared to other explanations for “spirit voices”, which is sufficient to overcome the prior improbability of a complex belief with many parts. Failing to realize that “the spirits spoke to me in my heart” is an instance of “causal interaction”, is analogous to a physics student not realizing that a “medium with an index” means a material such as water.

 (…)

In modern society there is a prevalent notion that spiritual matters can’t be settled by logic or observation, and therefore you can have whatever religious beliefs you like. If a scientist falls for this, and decides to live their extralaboratorial life accordingly, then this, to me, says that they only understand the experimental principle as a social convention. They know when they are expected to do experiments and test the results for statistical significance. But put them in a context where it is socially conventional to make up wacky beliefs without looking, and they just as happily do that instead.

(…)

Reality, we have learned to our shock, is not a collection of separate magisteria, but a single unified process governed by mathematically simple low-level rules. Different buildings on a university campus do not belong to different universes, though it may sometimes seem that way. The universe is not divided into mind and matter, or life and nonlife; the atoms in our heads interact seamlessly with the atoms of the surrounding air. Nor is Bayes’s Theorem different from one place to another.

If, outside of their specialist field, some particular scientist is just as susceptible as anyone else to wacky ideas, then they probably never did understand why the scientific rules work. Maybe they can parrot back a bit of Popperian falsificationism; but they don’t understand on a deep level, the algebraic level of probability theory, the causal level of cognition-as-machinery. They’ve been trained to behave a certain way in the laboratory, but they don’t like to be constrained by evidence; when they go home, they take off the lab coat and relax with some comfortable nonsense. And yes, that does make me wonder if I can trust that scientist’s opinions even in their own field - especially when it comes to any controversial issue, any open question, anything that isn’t already nailed down by massive evidence and social convention.

(…)

It’s not a different universe inside and outside the laboratory. 

(Source: lesswrong.com)

To live is to suffer, to survive is to find some meaning in the suffering.
Friedrich Nietzsche  (via dennisdubay)

(Source: therealvagabondking, via fuckyeahfriedrichnietzsche)