I have a theory (probably not original) that words and numbers are the symbolic DNA that plays a large role in our intellect and has a significant influence on our personalities. While our social environment and economic situation during our formative years also impact our character, I believe it is our vocabulary and ability to form complex strings of words that are likely shaping the path of our potential.

While the double helix strands of DNA are the foundation of the genetic materials that dictate our physical being, I’m suggesting that strands of words form our mental being.

If a young person is surrounded by people with a limited vocabulary and half-functional intellect during the early years of development, how does he or she find mentors to benefit from and get inspired by? If no such person exists among family, educators, or circle of friends, can we rightfully hope that the young person finds inspiration on their own? At one time, television shows such as Sesame Street and Mr. Rogers offered a one-size-fits-all blanket of conformity that tried to impart positive messages and improved vocabularies, but those shows have given way to apps that play on instant rewards, thus satisfying the dopamine wishes of the player, but rarely providing intellectual linguistic exercises.

If we had word games that offered more verbal play between the software and player, then maybe we’d start to see a general increase in vocabulary and, ultimately, in intellectual ability. The challenge would be how to involve parents to be part of the game or simply get them to start reading.

I thought I was done with this blog entry with the previous paragraph, and then I started thinking again about the roles of educators and was considering a teacher 50 years ago. They would have had a classical education without the influence of all-pervasive media. There are times when I’m listening to casual conversation in public, and if I don’t see the people who are talking, I can easily believe that the cackle I’m hearing is from some high school girls. Then I look over and see some youngish 30-year-olds, and as I continue listening I learn they are teachers. Their gossip is insipid nonsense that would have been of similar gossipy tripe when they were 14. Yet these are the people we have entrusted with raising young minds for the work of the future.

Education, I believe, will have to relegate its role of using people to bring learning to our populations to artificial intelligence that can be responsive to the immediate and near future demands of a workforce able to deploy greater knowledge. The very DNA of the intellect will shortly be forced to undergo a rapid evolutionary leap forward, or humanity will suffer the consequences of producing ever greater numbers of people ill-equipped to compete with smart machines.

The extraordinary peculiarity of listening to adults talk seriously about God and Jesus in public never fails to strike me as being childlike; forgive me for the overt condescension. How does the 30-60-something-year-old find the enthusiasm to speak so fervently about a deity none of us have ever seen? How can two adults, before eating a meal stop to pray? I know the answer is faith, but I can’t relate to religious people who are otherwise apparently well-educated.

When I encounter middle-aged recovering drug addicts or alcoholics who are finding themselves in the hands of God, I understand that they have returned to the emotional age of when their addiction first took root. Listening to well-off adults discuss their spirit and baptism sends me reeling that they are seeing themselves as rational people steeped in reality. These very same people are quite content being dismissive of other religions as fantasy but find it sacrilegious when others challenge their own flavor of holy deity.

Worse is when listening to a group of older adults carry on about a pastor who they didn’t gel with at church earlier in the day. Their disdain and sanctimonious tone seem to me to be the most unchristian of ways to practice their religion. When I hear god-fearing people dismiss the homeless or less fortunate, I wonder what part of their dogma their dog ate for breakfast. And when I think I’ve heard it all, I find myself listening to the guy at the next table tell a young person how he’s operating with greater spiritual maturity than the kid due to his greater experience through his relationship with God. The hypocrisy of these numbskulls is simply not constrained.

So much judgment, wrath, and pride among people who claim to walk with Jesus. Tragic that they cannot fathom their own ugly bias but are prone to cast aspersions towards someone like me who is comfortable in his atheism. Then again, I suppose all they have to do is confess their sins to Jesus, and they can continue their own wicked ways while I, not having accepted Jesus as my personal savior, will be forever condemned.

The idea of punishment on the astral plane seems to be a relic of primitive people who never really matured much beyond their childhood. This reigning spirit in the sky playing the angry father figure who will deliver retribution for our transgressions is probably borne out of a need to give weight to authority, as contrary or disobedient persons can be threatened with the holy father who has jurisdiction over their soul.

We are, to an extent an archaic people wielding the advanced tools of exploration which allow us to peer into our own genetic building blocks and have looked back in time to interpret radiation spreading through the universe that helps explain the origins of matter. Yet we persist in carrying forward dated mythologies with no basis in anything that resembles facts.

How primitive we are that we have lofted so much irrelevant meaning not only on the symbols of religion but on the very tools we use on a daily basis. Many a person find a kind of holy affirmation when acquiring wealth and use their purchases as validation that they have achieved something that sets them apart. The car, house, designer clothes, and jewelry are nothing more than accessories that humanity has given false value to. The intangibles of intelligence, passion, empathy, and sharing play second fiddle to the outward glorifications of the self. I find this to be one of the greatest contradictions of the semblance of piousness from those who believe. When do we as a species transfer value from the unseen symbolic spirit world and objects of wealth to the demonstrable actions that arise from our work and efforts? In the modern world, beauty is not only skin deep it is the totality of our reality.

We in America are at a crossroads created by our own passion for mediocrity. A century ago we embraced American Exceptionalism as the hallmark of what set us apart from all others. Politically, militarily, economically, and with entertainment, we would sell this idea of brand America to the entire world. We were being catapulted into the future on the back of scientific invention and creativity. Then, in the 1970s, at the height of our prowess, we started to disparage the learned. A seed of intolerance and small-mindedness at what started being perceived as an economic and technological change too radical for many was the germination point where we began sliding into decline.

Our education system and cultural bearings were being unhinged as we immersed ourselves deeper and deeper into the hyperbole of hollow propaganda, that of being “great” without requiring us to demonstrate our efforts anymore. It is not good enough that we say we are great; we must show why we are so. We cannot claim greatness based on acts that we have done in the past. Imagine we’d disband the military and then tell some up-and-coming dictator that they couldn’t go to war anymore because we did these great things during World War II. We have to be prepared to enter the battlefield and prove our mettle. Likewise, we have to deploy millions on the intellectual battlefield to prove our innovation.

Today’s world is in conflict with a different kind of war, with atrocities inflicted upon innocent populations inside their minds where progress and human rights are the enemy combatants fighting on the side of progress. The carnage on culture is committed through neglect of the natural systems that sustain life and help it flourish, along with the subtle destruction of human inventions of education and healthcare. The potential winner of this war for the hearts and minds of the globe will hopefully be won by compassion and the enabling of potential.

At this juncture, it doesn’t appear that America will be the leader of the next wave of progress, as we’ve turned petty, self-destructive, mistrustful, fearful of crime and the threat of terrorism.

China, on the other hand, has been reforming its banking, insurance, and political architecture. Through modernization, its citizens are seen far more frequently on other shores spending freely. The crime rate is significantly lower than in the U.S., while healthcare coverage is near-universal and is rapidly evolving into a better system. A university education typically costs less than $15,000 for the entire four years. Smartphones are replacing cash, and their embrace is having a deeper impact than in many other countries.

This is not to put China on a pedestal but to point out that they appear to be making decisions for the advancement of their population instead of fomenting social issues that pull them off the global stage. While Americans recoil from near-daily mass shootings and fret about approaching immigrants, elusive healthcare, scandals, overwhelming debt, and disappearing job prospects, the rest of the world tries marching on.

It no longer matters where we went wrong, nor does it make sense to keep a scorecard of China’s progress. The fact is we are not setting forth a national vision, but instead, are reliant upon an outdated jingoism that is not preparing us to compete on the world stage aside from dealing with it militarily, and even that’s in doubt regarding its efficacy.

I’m afraid that resetting our footing would imply a need to emasculate an angry, testosterone-fueled male identity tied heavily to guns, motorcycles, big trucks, and larger-than-life attitudes. While there’s certainly a place for this in a well-balanced culture, it shouldn’t be the base layer of our attempt at civilization. Then again, America has always embraced the renegade and rebel. Johnny Badass and Sam Serialkiller hold sway over the American psyche as a kind of twisted Robin Hood taking power from those who keep the common man down.

No amount of lament from a nerd is going to change our character to embrace an intellectual renaissance where the rule of passion for the arts and science becomes the defining modality. Guns and violence, be they in our movies, in our sports, or the tools we require to fight the zombie apocalypse, are shining beacons of who we are at this time.

All the same, I cannot bite my tongue and muffle my scream of desire for a full-blown return to a culture of exploration where words, numbers, facts, science, enlightenment, and social cohesion rule the day. Sadly, my tilt at windmills feels foolishly paraphrased from a page written by Thomas More about a place we could call Unobtanium.

So why bother even writing this? Maybe it’s my way of finding a positive side of our species when it’s increasingly difficult to see our better natures. Maybe this is me trying verbally to manifest a change in a reality where the butterfly effect will ripple across the fabric of our place on Earth. Clearly, there have been many others with greater reach trying to draw in like-minded people who can help in the conversion of a citizenry that, in more than a small way, end up portraying themselves as lemmings. If these brand name activists have failed, why waste my time in even recognizing a problem that many have failed to repair? The outlook of despair is an unkind cramp on happiness and should be swept away with a firm embrace of a positive stance towards bettering ourselves.

I think at times that our experiment in television has had an adverse reaction with people who have watched too many broadcast personalities and started losing their own sense of identity.

Instead of having the time to develop their own character within a small community of real-life people, they are becoming, in part, a composite of voices, personalities, actions, intonations, and fragments of media that have nothing to do with their own intrinsic selves.

If the passively consumed phrases, memes, bits, and pieces of conversation are learned through mimicry and start to overtake what should be our own reasoned thoughts and identities, where do we emerge from the entanglement of these others’ words and actions? Likewise, do people become who they are from practicing mimicry of others in the same profession, assuming the characteristics, mannerisms, and behaviors that allow them to appear in the expectation of those who encounter them? So, if the barista becomes the character of a barista, do we see anything of who that person really is? Do we want to? At that moment, they are there to serve a function, and we need to know nothing about their private life. But what if private life is nothing more than a reflection of bad media, video games, jobs, musicians, and celebrities?

When we look at furries and cosplayers, we see the adult acting out their internal dialog and imagination in a public arena, so in effect, they, too, are on stage as the characters they are imitating. While wearing masks and playing roles have been part of human culture for millennia, prior to the past decade, this was reserved for ceremonies, rituals, and theater within a community where it was only consumed by those present.

Are these people in costume that much different from the bicyclist who adopts the character of the biker with all the requisite lingo, clothes, and attitudes? The same goes for motorcyclists, who not only move in conforming packs but are often composite figures of the proto-biker. What I’m wondering about is our inclinations toward herd mentalities where the “individual” is likely certain they are acting uniquely.

These last examples are of those who externally display the influence of mass media. I’m curious, though, if there is a much larger part of our population who don’t necessarily have overt outward characteristics but have attitudes and speech patterns highly influenced by and originating primarily from our broadcast media and that are, in some cases, dominant in their conversations.

Many right and left-wing extremists adopt the lingo of their fellow radicals who foster tight groups by pulling in close those who are indoctrinated and demonstrating characteristics most similar to their own. These dogmatic organizations are mostly intolerant towards those who are too many degrees away from their ordained ideology. Why has it become beneficial to society to have fostered so many clones in lockstep ideologies as opposed to encouraging individualism? To answer my own question, I suppose the correct response would be that this is the way it has always been.

For hunter-gatherers, the men would imitate the strongest, most skillful hunter. In the industrial age, the apprentice mimics the craftsman and throughout religious history, the disciple would kowtow to the authority that commanded them to follow dictated principles. In today’s age, the half-educated nitwit imitates the YouTube personality who has become the cult leader of a dispersed group of followers. We are media circus clowns afraid to venture into ourselves as the responsibility to be unique often implies a kind of isolation: better join the crowd and take your meds.

How often do you shake your head when eavesdropping on “experts,” spouting off and effectively berating the ears of those they are holding captive? They move through a tirade, espousing profound insights that are so obviously correct to themselves that they are indignant that there should be any other viewpoint.

Sometimes, they confront someone they’ve joined for a meal, and as we sit there awaiting our food, they put on display for the tables within earshot their intolerance, bias, and general lack of knowledge regarding the nuances that are integral to reality. Their one-size-fits-all ideas of solutions are short-sighted and indicative of someone living in an ancient pre-history bubble.

If you want to meet the nicest people in society, look for those who know how to listen and seem genuinely interested in what others have to say. The person who listens is processing what you are saying and trying to find a sympathetic complimentary conversation that will engage you, and if they are well-read, they will know when to offer a challenging opinion else they’ve hopefully learned to play it safe and recognize that there is no having a discussion with you as they continue to nod politely.

When our opinions and knowledge are malleable, we are allowing ourselves to benefit from social interactions where we can encounter the graciousness of civility from others interested in sharing. On the other hand, when we surround ourselves with an echo chamber of voices that reinforce our biases, we are trying to ensure that our cocoon remains an insulating bulwark against the marauding terror of those who “Don’t know the real truth.”

Also, in this category of public display of stupidity is loud gossip. While gossip is an essential part of the social bonding that must take place and has likely been integral to our ability to live in large groups, in days past, it was done relatively privately as it dealt with rumors and was on occasion hostile towards the person or persons it was about. Today, it is done in the open. It is not uncommon to hear employees talking about other staff in derogatory terms or people talking about their relatives or even spouses in less than flattering ways.

Is this all because we started living outside in public? Did our phones becoming mobile move idle chatter into earshot of everyone else? And now, because we assumed no one was listening to our “private” calls, we can have “private” face-to-face conversations where nobody is listening? Or am I simply being rude by eavesdropping on what should be private in public?

My sadomasochistic existence, as I’ve come to describe it, is not defined through the filter you might be thinking of. This is not 50 shades of John, but it is 50 shades of struggle.

Let me get this out of the way: I love difficulty, while I simultaneously hate difficulty. My ability to adapt to my interests can be a challenge. I want to explore all things complex, obtuse, opaque, and seemingly impossible for my mind of limited bandwidth to handle.

I wanted to know about critical thinking and reason, so I looked to Herbert Marcuse, Theodore Adorno, Nietzsche, and others who all tried to hurt my brain with their musings. I went on to learn about actor-network theory, so I picked up a book from Bruno Latour to help me learn the extent of my own comprehension deficits. Want to learn about infinity? Try David Deutsch, but check your confidence at the door (inside joke). Wow, making music might be interesting, so why not collect 150 synthesizer modules and figure out how they communicate before you can begin making primitive car alarm sounds? Go on vacation? Sure, if it’s at the bottom of the Grand Canyon where I might begin to understand the Great Unconformity, cratons, and rock morphology spread out across two billion years.

Ask my wife about my caveman grammar, and she’ll assure you that I’m an idiot when it comes to punctuation. Without her, everything I wrote above would be in a single run-on sentence with commas everywhere you wouldn’t expect them. Writing isn’t easy, but the words flow through my head, and have to find somewhere to live otherwise, they’d keep falling into people’s ears who couldn’t care less. While I know the eye rolls are signaling that I should stop, my compulsion to keep on talking wins the day for me.

I need a tutor or blue pill that will help me understand the bigger ideas behind deep learning while someone else teaches me soldering. Of course, I looked into soldering classes, but they cost thousands. A tensor-enabled deep-learning workstation starts at around $10k. Then you need time and space to allow these new hobbies to become part of a routine that already involves art, music, writing, travel, cooking, reading, and a wife that I share these things with.

Maybe you are thinking, “Why don’t you start small and solder something simple or explore artificial intelligence on a slower system?” Well, Ben Franklin is quoted as saying, “Life’s tragedy is that we get old too soon and wise too late.” I’m 55 years old and keenly aware of my limited time left on earth and while it may be pessimistic to acknowledge that fact, it does figure into how thin I can spread my attention. My curiosity, though, doesn’t know those bounds, and so I dream of what great new discoveries I’ll be making about myself and life in the future.

So, while my pain of desire to do all things of interest to me will remain a thorn in my side, the enthusiasm to continue on a path of discovery is profoundly satisfying, even when not truly satisfied with accomplishment.