Walt Whitman and William Shakespeare

I do not want to write anymore.

It is obvious why...

(Hmm)

Fungi

Today I have visited an exhibition on fungi. It was really impressive for several reasons:
1. The largest organism ever found on this planet is a fungus: Armillaria ostoyae
2. 80% (or even more) of the worlds biomass are decomposed by fungi
3. And other stuff
This made me forget, that yesterday, when I walked past the Bauernbergpark Man, I found him crying bitterly. However, the exhibition reminded me of how fragile our ecosystem is and how many complicated aspects of symbiosis, parasitism and equilibria it includes.
It makes me wonder about the unbelievable interconnectedness of all things, and of course about my role and the Man's role in all of this.
Yesterday, after passing the crying Bauernbergpark Man, my dog defecated into a decayed group of Coprinaceae. This at least is the narrative connection between fungi, the Man and me. Does that make sense?
One day, I walked through a forest near my hometown (Yes - the one with the Bauernbergpark) I encountered a single Coprinus atramentarius which is unusual because I think they normally grow in groups. Next to it there was a toilet brush. The picture of the biofact and the artifact, that somehow resembled each other, stayed in my mind for a long time. 
What was there before? The mushroom or the brush? From an evolutionary perspective the coprinus is much older. But who will survive as the fitter one? The mycelium of the fungus is a tough match even for a metal toilet brush. I fear that someone will cut the trees there, so that the mycelium must die. The toilet brush will live on happily ever after.
The purpose of this is that one day the Bauernbergpark Man will read this, and simply will stop crying.
My problem is, that I am pretty sure that a warm sleeping bag and a few warm words would be much better.

Event Horizon

No it is not the movie I am writing about (though that gave me some shivers some time ago). It is not about some physical theory either. It is the event horizon of individual perception.
And Zen.
Yes. This is actually one topic. While Bowie is singing "Changes" into my ears, I try to make my point.
You can get adicted to widening the horizon. You can get mad if it explodes. You can use drugs and you can use other kicks.
Usually this happens all too fast. To get a good knowledge of the territory you can perceive, to get a real good map of your world, it takes time. It takes time to sit, as Zen people would do. Of course there are other ways than Sôtô meditation, but all of them take time.
So stop where you are and look around. Where have you put your shoes when you entered the apartment, and what is the color of the carpet? That is essential.
It is not essential to go everywhere. Do you know yourself? Gnothi seauton!
Yes, I especially mean you, who is wandering the night alone, in search for the next beam of light. You who gave me this face. Sit down and rest my friend. Your enlightenment is false and will burn away like the flame of a torch. It is time to get back to the ground, to feel the earth again.
It will hurt, yes indeed, but we are merely human beings. Our lot is to work ourselves through the dirt. Per aspera ad astra.
I am looking forward to sitting next to you at the edge of the road and to watch the fast cars pass by.
You will laugh at your past madness. We will meet at a real slow place, in a pup somewhere, where time stands still. You will appreciate the fog and abhor the blinding light you are in now.
Finally you will have friends and family again.
You are free to chose. You can take the fast road into the light of perdition or you can turn around and follow the hard road, the long path back to mankind. There you can regain strength and freedom, real freedom, not the freedom of Icarus.
Enough for now.
See you in the citadel.
A friend.

Frankenstein

Finally I found time to read Mary Shelley's Frankenstein. Brilliant. Hubris in its most beautiful romantic form.
The other book I'm reading is Atran and Medin's Folkbiology, which is sometimes much weirder, for instance when discussing New Guinean bird names.
I am listening to Jerry Garcia playing "Sitting on top of the world" and I miss the Bauernbergpark Man.
Two days ago I passed by his summer quarters (which are two adjacent bark benches near a long turn of the road) and all his belongings were scattered on the ground. He was gone.
I hope he has a warm place to stay before the winter comes to the park.
I wonder how the Man really feels and if he is sometimes as lonely as Shelley's monster. Who can tell?
What shall I read next?
Ah. Phillip Balls's "Unnatural" comes to my mind.

Bauernbergpark Man III

This is a rather fascinating week for me. However, during a workshop at the Ars Electronica Future Lab I found the time to walk the dog.
I also found the Man, sitting in front of my suicidal friend's former apartment. He asked me for some cash.
He was very polite and he was using very formal German language-
I gave him 6 Euros and looked him into the eyes for the very first time. What I saw was kindness. What a contrast to the encounter a few days ago!
The weather is getting rather wet. Hope he's sleeping well on the floor of the pavilion.

Bauernbergpark Man Attack

Although the Man is mostly peaceful, he frequently has some sort of nervous attacks. Then he swears aloud or he calls for the police.
Three days ago I passed him when he came back from his Hofer market duties. He was having one of his fits. However, he stopped swearing when he saw me and walked past me silently.
SUDDENLY he turned around and told my dog that he is a good boy in a very aggressive manner.
I kept on walking, and the Man turned too and went after his lunatic business.
That is the other side of the Bauernbergpark Man, a side that undoubtedly gives him constant troubles. To me and to the dog it was just 10 seconds of fear. For him it means a life on park benches.

Ed Regis What is life? (german)

Ed Regis

What is Life? Investigating the Nature of Life in the Age of Synthetic Biology

2008

Oxford University Press

Link zu Amazon

Das Buch liefert eine spannende Reise durch die Geschichte des Lebensbegriffes und die modernen Herausforderungen an diesen, wie Synthetische Biologie, Protozellenforschung und die Suche nach extraterrestrischem Leben.

Die Geschichte beginnt mit den Protagonisten der Protozellenforschung, des sogenannten „bottom-up“ Zugangs zur Erschaffung künstlichen Lebens, bzw. einer künstlichen Zelle wie etwa Norman Packard und Steen Rasmussen.

Es folgt ein Rückblick auf Erwin Schrödingers Standardwerk: What is life? aus dem Jahr 1944, das zum einen den Mythos des Lebens aus physikalischem Blickwinkel entzauberte, andererseits aber viel Fragen offen ließ. Im Zentrum des Werkes Schrödingers steht der Begriff der Negentropie, oder negativen Entropie, der Lebewesen, was nichts anderes Bedeutet als Ordnung.

Regis erzählt nun die Geschichte der Entdeckung der DNA, die bis ins Jahr 1869 reicht, als sie von Friedrich Miescher aus dem Eiter von Wundverbänden aus dem Krankenhaus isoliert wurde. 1953 publizierten Watson und Crick ihre Entdeckung der Struktur der DNA. Der genetische Code wurde im laufe der 60er Jahre von Marshall Nirenberg entschlüsselt.

Das Buch handelt nun weiter von einem Kongress 1993 in Dublin mit dem Titel: „What Is Life: The Next 50 Years“ der Erwin Schrödinger würdigte, aber mit den meisten seiner Erkenntnisse abrechnete.

Als nächstes wird die Wichtigkeit von ATP für Lebensprozesse verdeutlicht und als wesentliches Merkmal von Leben der Metabolismus herausgearbeitet.

Dann geht es um die Ursprünge des Lebens. Die Theorie, die hier am plausibelsten erscheint ist jene von Freeman Dyson, die einen doppelten Ursprung von Metabolismus und Reproduktion postuliert.

Im nächsten Kapitel wird der Stand der Evolutionstheorie skizziert, indem Theodosius Dobzhanskys Aussage: „Nothing in biology makes sense except in the light of evolution“ als falsch hingestellt wird.

Dann spannt sich der Bogen zurück zu den Protozellen-Forschern und es werden deren letzte Fortschritte aufsummiert. Es wird jedoch klar gestellt, dass es noch nicht gelungen ist eine künstliche Zelle zu synthetisieren, obwohl schon interessante Entwicklungen in diese Richtung gemacht worden sind.

Am Ende wird die Frage „Was ist Leben?“ damit beantwortet, dass es sich bei Leben um einen in einem Körper enthaltenen Metabolismus (embodied metabolism) handelt.

Lieblingszitat: Carl Sagan wrote that „despite the enormous fund of information that [biologists] have provided, it is a remarkable fact that no general agreement exists on what it is that is being studied. There is no generally accepted definition of life.“ p.156

Origins

Where does life come from? A very original question.
If someone created it: the question remains: How did the creator do it? If someone brought it along through space, how did it emerge where it came from?
Although the answers given by Freeman Dyson seem to be the best ones so far, combining the origin of  heredity/replication with the origin of metabolism, the quest for the origin of life seems endless.
So lets look for some interesting creation Myths. In my rather cheap edition of a mythology book creation is the first chapter after the introduction. How original again.
If you take a closer look at the myths, it seems that they focus on different aspects of the origin of what we consider to be the universe.
For a start let us discuss the Egyptian myth of Nun. What is the difference between the primal soup and the primal sea? What is the difference between Maat and Miller? Both intended to create order from chaos.
Unfortunately there is a documentary on ORF III tonight, that I cannot miss. It is on a completely different topic, but I promise to continue to discuss matters of the origin of life in this blog.
By the way, today the Bauernbergpark Man asked someone for a cigarette close to where I live. For him, I think, the universe is created anew every day.

Archy good Archy nice

I have just rewritten my short prose on a guy doing something nasty to a church in Linz. So I am  productive. The problem with short prose is that you need a lot of small nice ideas to have enough material one day. I have four short stories so far. That is nothing.
I think the next one will be about trying to steal a bottle from the Bauernbergpark Man. He is the star of my Blog, so he will be the only real character in my short prose collection. Ha.
Maybe I even manage to write a poem today. For some reason I am having a good time, although my beloved one is very far away from me. Wait a moment. That's it. My sadness and loneliness gives me the kick on the dark side of the moon to be productive.
On the other hand it could also be the lime ice cream with blueberries I have consumed just a few minutes ago.
Yes drugs and loneliness. That feels good. Makes me feel young again.
So: What is left to do for today: Write a poem, write some short prose, make some plans for publishing some of the stuff, walk the dog, sleep. Ha
I'll do that. No time for stupid blogging any more.
Cu

Waunfawr

2 weeks in Wales are not enough. From Snowdonia ale to windy beaches everything was fine. I didn't even miss the Bauernbergpark and the Man although when I came back I first made sure that he is still around.
His latest drawings on the ground are rather interesting by the way. They look somewhat like this: <O> with all his cigarette butts in the middle.
Hmm. He sure has some troubles with the thunderstorms recently.
I wish my posts get more coherent again but I can't think of anything more interesting when I listen to David Bowie music.
My little finger hurts from typing.
I have to stop.
Sorry.
:-)

Coward

I have just deleted an interesting post that would have probably cost my job.
I will post it later, one day, hopefully.
Curious, eh?
Harr.

Lone Wolf and Cub

After watching a very bloody Japanese sword movie I feel like writing some lines.
Dear Blog. In the absence of a friend to whom I can tell all this, I write it down, on a server somewhere, for you, dear audience, to read.
Imagine a wolf, no better a werewolf, sitting on a window sill, in a vast building, in winter, howling at the moon.
Imagine a lightning fast creature, speeding through the snow storm towards a distant light.
Imagine an almost dead mammoth stuck in a tar pit.
Imagine a man watching an endless colony of ants, that has occupied a whole mountain.
Imagine a lover knowing nothing about his beloved one
Imagine a gambler losing and winning every single day
And finally imagine a man living on a park bench in Bauernbergpark who watches another guy with a brown and white dog walk by.
If you can imagine all this we can start to talk about the world. If you do not understand, who else will?

Total Eclipse

Thales of Miletus is famous for correctly predicting a solar eclipse. I cannot even correctly recall the date of the one that I saw more than 10 years ago somewhere in Burgenland. That is not the only fact why Thales was a much better philosopher than I will ever be. He did not get headaches from mathematics and he was so courageous to declare that everything comes from water. I can only turn wine into water.
My system of logic fails to solve simple puzzles and I refuse to read Hegel.
Nevertheless I know many names of philosophers. I am sure this makes me one of them. Maybe I could wear a funny toga with a sign stitched on that says "Philosopher" or I could buy me a barrel.
Ah. Now I will predict the next total eclipse.
Voila: May 20 2012, not so faR FROM NOW.
Poor Thales did not have Wikipedia to assist his predictions. Tahda: With some technical assistance I will be as famous as Thales, the first philosopher, you will see.

Black Magic Woman

Peter Green has a rather interesting biography. Whatever happened to him in 1970, he has all my sympathy not only for being one of the greatest guitarists of all time. He is indeed a survivor.
My friend Wolfgang is not.
He died a few days ago just before his 46th birthday. It was either another suicide attempt, this time a successful one, or the consequences of his latest attempt. I am not sure.
He was a prisoner. We all are. Nevertheless, we usually are aware of the taste of freedom. Some of us more often, some of us less often. I don't know what took his life in the end. He was  always living a few steps from the grave. The best times for him were those when he didn't realize that his house was built on sand and he had this childish stare at the world. Then he was in peace. Long stretches of his life seem like agony to me.
For me he always had kind words and he helped me whenever he could. I should have spent more time with him. Now all I can do is carry him with me in my heart. This I will do.
He didn't live far from the Bauernbergpark Man. Everyday I go past Wolfgang's empty apartment I wish that he may be together with a black magic woman now.
Someone to magic away the pain he had to endure in this world.

Sometimes

Cold Black Night

I have rediscovered 60ies Blues from England for myself. So I listen to Fleetwood Mac with Peter Green all the time.
For a while the weather seems good for both the Bauernberpark Man and me, though I suppose that is due to climate change.

Ah: Albatross. Hmm.

Before going to bed I tend to read Russell's History of Western Philosophy. When doing so I considered that I want to write books that will have to be burnt some day by a totalitarian regime. But instead I am writing this blog. Does that make sense?
Maybe I have to write in a more provocative way.

Ah: Black Magic Woman. Hmm. Nice Peter Green solo.

I guess I am too much soaked with popular culture and too far away from the street (intellectually) to be able to write something valuable.
Nevertheless I love to quote: From Shakespeare to Nietzsche, from Anaximander to the Rolling Stones:
"Hier bin ich Mensch"

Ah: Like Crying. Hmm

The Bauernbergpark Man has another habit, I haven't mentioned. When he leaves the place where he sleeps (at the moment it's the pavilion) he often walks down to a Hofer shop nearby. There he sits on a chair. I don't know if he asks passers-by for money. I am not sure.

Ah: Need Your Love So Bad. Hmm

Good Night. May it not be too cold.

Life, the universe and bullshit

Hello spaceboy- famous David Bowie/Pet Shop Boys words - says the loudspeaker of my humble iMac while the Bauernbergpark man still uses our plastic bag, which makes me very proud of my girlfriend. Meanwhile a famous Norwegian killer has his own court show. What a weird planet.
But I am the one who cannot complain, for I am the one with the iMac singing Bowie tunes, not the one with the second hand plastic bag and not the maniac who shot lots of children.
These are stories about the universe. Let us consider life. Ha!
Today I have read a neoaristotelian critique of cartesian dualism. That is fine. I am for plurality and I am sure that Norwegian killer idiots will shoot you, no matter what side you are on. I am not sure what to favor but anyway, my thesis will deal with the problem, and then I will know everything about life, the universe and of course Harry G. Frankfurt's bullshit.
Considering his book I should rename the blog to "the unpublished bullshit blog". Ha again!
Nevertheless I love the grey zone between serious science and folk knowledge. I am, therefore I write. Ha!
Descartes could not have put it better.
While oil prices are so high, that people even consider to use public transport, and that e-car commercials are shown even on TV, Bowie sings another song for me, this time assisted by Freddie Mercury: to care for the people on the edge of the night...Ha!

Bauernbergpark Man II

Today we gave a plastic bag full of useful things to the Bauernbergpark Man. He was not there. So we don't know if he will use the toothbrush or if he will eat the cheese. I say "we" but it was my girlfriend's idea. She is much less shy than I am, as regards the Man.
I wonder what social constructivism says to all that. Nothing, I assume.

Magicians and other Intellectuals

Only division of labour allows the existence of magicians and other intellectuals. We often neglect the fact that being a magician or intellectual can be a tough job, too. Apart from the frequent possibility of being hunted down by other members of the public for the purpose of burning someone alive, working with the brain or in the company of demons is sometimes rather hard.
The better you get with your ideas or magic the closer you get to the brink of insanity. Only a nice cold glass of beer might safe you, given that you consume it fast enough.
My favorite intellectual/magician is the Bauernbergpark man. Though I do not understand what he does, I appreciate his efforts, and he lives a humble life, similar to that of the Cynics in classical times.
I try my best to be a proper magician by not doing any magic at all, and to be a good intellectual by learning how to stop thinking. That is all I can do.

Construction II

In their first chapter Berger and Luckmann discuss everyday life. They explain a world centered in the "here" and "now". They analyze aspects of language and knowledge in relation to everyday life.
I was wondering when science and religion enter their considerations. And: voilà on page 40 (Anchor Books, 1967) it is there: Symbol systems very remote from the pragmatic language for everyday purposes: Abra cadabra so to say.
Cynicism and skepticism have a lot to say about the expendable nature of all that.
I am looking forward to read more about B&L's arguments in the coming chapters. I can recall the Ichthyosophists, who I really like.
Nevertheless, I think Berger and Luckmann are completely right about the predominance of the "here" and "now"as the focus of everyday knowledge. Everything is in it, the future, which is just an illusion, and the past, which is just a memory. In the presence everything is there.
However, why do we permanently try to escape from the "here" and "now"by thinking, day dreaming, drugs, television and other means?
To learn why, and to learn to avoid it is one of my missions.

Construction

I am about to read "The social construction of reality" for the second time. This time I will remember more aspects than when I read it for the first time.
I really like the introduction by Helmuth Plessner, in which he says that the sociology of knowledge of Scheler and Mannheim was a theory of bad conscience towards Marx. :-)
In their work the influence of ideology on knowledge was central.
That brings us back to religion. Ha!
Is it better to live in a geocentric or a heliocentric world? However, we still say that the sun rises instead of : "We have accomplished another rotation."
How come, that this trace of medieval bullshit (in the sense of Harry G. Frankfurt) is still in our heads and words.
I think it is better not to be in the centre of the Universe, but to be in an outer spiral arm of some smaller galaxy somewhere in time and space.
My conclusion is that religion and ideology are not the best friends of scientific knowledge. Religion on the other hand can be a means of orientation, that does not exist in science. Does it?
There is reason, logic and mathematics. Can they really help with ethics or normative orientation?
However, from Berger and Luckmann we learn, that all knowledge is socially constructed, through processes of institutionalization, due to the need for legitimization and finally is internalized by socialization.
So what about the social construction of God?
Nah. It is something you have to believe in with or without knowing.
For the moment I have to take a walk in the Bauernbergpark and leave the discussion of religion and science behind. I have to open my eyes and see, what is there. I have to feel the wind, and look after my dog. That is all much more important.

Epicurus

I am still not sure which classical school of philosophy I favor. It seems as if  a good deal of wisdom was there, but somehow it was all only particularly dealt with by single philosophers. 

The last chapter that I read about was about Epicurus and Lucretius, who despised religion and above all the superstition that comes with it.

Is it good to have a world without religion?

I am a religious man myself, but I am also a scientist. Nevertheless, what I believe in has a lot to do with the presence, the here and now, and not so much with flying pasta monsters. However, it is almost impossible to talk about Zen, especially for a humble pupil and beginner. Maybe it is even harder for a master.

So I write about a world without religion. 

Yesterday my girlfriend brought some food to the Bauernbergpark man. We can do such things without religion. On the other hand, Jesus, Buddha and other prophets or religious teachers, say that it is a good thing to do so. I think religions have many good things to say. But what is the problem with them, if there are positive, useful and generous ethical messages that are the core of the teachings of any religion (except maybe the church of Satan).

One problem is power and the interference with politics. It does not matter whether it is science, economy, art, education or religion that crosses the path of the political system, it will be a victim of power. Wonderful religious teachings will become inquisitions, crusades, Jihads and witch-hunts. 

Epicurus, I think taught to abstain from politics as well.

The pursuit of personal happiness is central for him. 

And he was wise enough to see that you cannot get that by eating 10 pounds of Hungarian goulash, drinking liters of wine and having sex with plenty of different women.

You see, there is good ethical teaching without religion, too.

So Epicurus and his disciple Lucretius might be right.

I am not sure but I am just 40 years old and I have to read a lot about the wisdom of the world, and I have to meditate a lot to get rid of all this knowledge again, to be sure.

Sometimes I envy the ones that say: I believe.

Sometimes I despise the ones that say: What I believe is right, and what you believe is wrong.

So, again, let me ask: Is it good to have a world without religion?

To be continued…

News

Now I really understand the truth about reading the news. Recently, I have been wondering: Why do I read a newspaper or its online edition? At least 99,9% of the information does not concern my everyday life. For instance: The weather forecast. Usually it is sufficient to look outside and see how the weather is. If I ride my bycicle I just can take some appropriate clothing with me. If I plan a hiking tour then the weather report might come in handy. The more dramatic news are mainly some sensationalist stuff that comes to late to be relevant. Because if it affects me I might be among the victims of a crime/chemical accident/car accident.
Politicians do whatever will bring them more votes the next time. So why bother about politics. Science might be interesting, but most newspapers don't even cover it. So why read the news?
Actually, I should have known the answer for a long time, because it can be found in one of my psychology textbooks. The answer is: I want to survive socially. I want to interact and participate in communication. And: People talk about the news. They believe in it. It is their everyday sermon, their prayer for understanding reality.
So I have started to read it again. I try to balance news of mass murder, war and crisis with the few entertaining bits about science or society. I am a little less happy for a while but I can communicate again. I can say more than: "Aha" or "I haven't heard about it". I am a 21st century man again.
Nevertheless I am not sure, if my strategy will change again pretty soon.
However, what I forgot to mention is, that I even once read an article on the Bauernpark man in the local newspaper. So it is not all just bad.

Zen

The more I get in touch with Zen, the less I have to say.

Popper

I am about to develop some hypotheses.
They concern the use of gravel by the Bauernbergpark-man and the use of flour. I think that both are somehow there to mark his territory or to protect him from something.
The gravel, as I may have mentioned before, is arranged in little circular heaps. They seem so regular when one compares them that I am led to believe that the man counts the tiny stones.
The flour is usually spread along the outer edge of the path. Recently there was a more complicated sign on the ground, also made with white flour. It looked like a sort of tic-tac-toe game. (see also Wikipedia) but sadly no one went there to make the second move.
How can I test my hypotheses.
Of course I can ask the man about it, but I still do not have the courage.
What does Popper say to people who do not have the heart to test their hypotheses. Hmm?