Apr 10 2013

To be honest I don’t trust Bitcoin.

It was created by someone using a pseudonym and his or her identity has never been revealed. The liquidity is dismal. The timescale for verifying transactions is slow (1), and anonymity is still an issue. The volatility is very high, which can be good if you feel like gambling and possibly making a return or potentially losing a significant amount of money because the time necessary to process the sale didn’t occur fast enough. Since Bitcoin has a limited number of cryptographic keys that can be used as coins it also has issues with entropy. (2) If someone loses their Bitcoin wallet, all of their coins are lost. Under the current system they cannot be reclaimed or mined again. You are entirely responsible for your own Bitcoin wallet. Last but not least early adopters prove to benefit the most from it, as the initial mining of unique cryptographic sequences was done very easily en masse at its inception and gets increasingly difficult over time. So it does resemble a pyramid scheme in that respect. (3)

The idea of a cryptocurrency is still very new. I’m really glad that Bitcoin is around and it’s really opened our eyes to different methods of solving the issues we face with our current systems of exchange. There has been far more brainpower being directed at alternative solutions for our common medium of exchange, which can only lead to positive change. We definitely need a currency that isn’t being controlled by corrupt national banks under the influence of the financial elite.

But for it to have any chance of becoming a truly viable means of exchange, the timescale for verification needs to shorten (a purely technical issue), the liquidity needs to increase (more people need to trust it and adoption needs to increase), and the volatility needs to decrease (again higher percentage of adoption and more trust in its use). Only then will the number of vendors that support using it for transactions increase, followed by a more widespread adoption. But this is a Catch-22. Bitcoin needs increased adoption in order to improve its issues with liquidity and volatility, but the only real way that adoption will increase is if the issues with liquidity and volatility aren’t an issue anymore.

So, let’s say that the issues with the transaction timescale, liquidity, and volatility are solved. Hurray! But that still won’t get rid of the inherent flaws in anonymity, entropy, and the early adopters of mining controlling the largest pieces of the pie.

Anonymity could potentially be solved by blind signatures. (4)

Entropy could possibly be taken care of by a workaround for re-mining coins that have been found to be “lost” for a certain period of time, say a year to five years. Loss due to personal negligence could still be a possibility but there are solutions for backing up wallets electronically and physically if necessary.

There is no way to take care of the issue with early adopters having gotten the most coins with the least amount of effort. They would have to purchase goods or services from or donate to a ton of different people in order to redistribute and balance the ownership of Bitcoins. But that still wouldn’t change the fact that they got rich quick with minimal effort and are riding on the hard work and expenditure of resources by others. This isn’t a new phenomenon. It has happened throughout history, and it does need to change if we ever hope to have a society that truly practices a philosophy of equality. A cryptocurrency that is able to bridge the gaps between the shortfalls of Bitcoin just might be the part of the solution, but Bitcoin in its current incarnation will not be able to pull it off. It is too young, and it lacks the fine tuning gained from gradual evolution and widespread real world implementation.





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変化の問題 もう一つの意見

Mar 18 2012


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To Nanako – 奈々子に

Mar 05 2012

“To Nanako” – Poem by: Yoshino Hiroshi

Nanako, to you who sleeps
With cheeks rosy as little apples.

The redness of your mother’s cheeks
Are just like yours.
A rouge that momentarily left her lovely face,
Leaving them pale and white
Only to find its way onto yours.
Yet another bittersweet memory for your father.

This may be sudden,
But Nanako,
I will not hold
Many expections of you.
Because I know
Just how helpless
A human being can become
Trying to live up
To the expectations of others.

All I want
Is for you to be healthy
And to love yourself.

Human beings
Lose everything that make them who they are
When they stop loving themselves.

People who have stopped loving themselves
Have stopped loving others
And lose sight of the world around them.

The moment you realize who you are,
Others will be there,
The whole world will be there with you.

Your mother and I
Will have our fair share of bittersweet hardships
Now that you are in our lives.

But for now,
We won’t allow any of them to fall upon you.

All we want you to have
Is radiant health
And the ever hard to win,
Ever hard to foster,
Love of oneself.

「奈々子に」 詩:吉野弘











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Nov 28 2011

Mankind is as a band of wanderers on a quest through an endless night. Each starting from the same relative position on a circuitous path that knows no true beginning or end. A journey that continues on without pause. Each of these travelers follows a role. Donning masks symbolizing their modality of travel. These masks may be swapped, taken off, or worn one on top of another in layers of complexity too deep as to be ineffable. For nobody wanders the same path in the same manner for a lifetime.

There are those that walk a single path out of many in utter desperation, always seeking the next wayside rest, always seeking for a way to stay in the light for fear that they might be swallowed in the bottomless depths of the dark. They live in fear, they live in ignorance. It could be said that they live not at all.

There are those who make maps of their journey, with rigid clearly defined paths that they would dare not leave. They trade between themselves, ever amending the arcs of their journey. Content to know where they have been, where they will eventually go, and nothing more. Eyes barely straying from the pages of their journals and the fragile parchment on which they scribe their mandalas of servitude to the cartographization all they meet.

There are those who ride vehicles of immense speed and complexity. Always seeking to conquer distance and glorify time. Travelling so quickly and dangerously down their path that they never truly know where they have gone, or where they are headed, unceasingly redlining for the fine line that separates the light cast by their headlights and the dark of night.

There are those who have had chauffeurs hired for them, who take them everywhere. From birth they have never laid foot on the ground just below the rumbling carriages of affluence, gilded cages of stagnation.

There are those who deceive, cheat, and waylay other travellers, stealing rations, possessions, and lives. Never knowing, much less fully understanding, what it is to live of one’s own accord. Always seeking to know what it is to be free and independent, but taking  further steps into bondage with every movement they make.

There are those who seek to find a way where there is no path. Intent on getting lost in the mists where none have yet to tread. For they always seek something new in the hope that they might bring something back from their travels that no one else has yet to find. A boon for their family that might be shared for generations.

Then there are those who just walk, letting their feet lead the way. Attending to their own needs as they arise, and the needs of others as if they were their own. Watchful and aware of their every step, without the compulsion towards recursive anxiety stemming from conscientious dualism. Needing no light to guide their way, nor shielding their eyes from the lights of others, their path is known to be within them, as is the darkness, light, and ghostly shapes that arise dancing within the collaborative whole.

These few are the Nightwalkers.

They wear no masks.

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doxa incarnate

Apr 25 2011

Those who have the courage to admit that they have no idea who, what, or where they are tend to be those who have a greater understanding of themselves as the world within and around them. They could be contrasted with the doxa incarnate who continuously through habit and behaviouristic conditioning delude themselves into perpetuating the artificial person.

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Another Way

Feb 01 2011

What you see is not what it seems,
A spiderweb of interpenetrating dreams.
That which is there, is really that which is here,
As they who are there, are the I that is here.
For all is one and one is all
Amid the break, before the fall.

Who is he?
He is me
And you
And she.
He is all,
And he is none,
A mystery to those beneath the Sun.
Who confusedly toil, in slavery as the oil
That greases the wheels of their own demise.
No wonder their surprise
When they finally surmise,
Denying to reprise the lies.

Moon, planet, star, sky
Alone are dessiccated symbols,
Each locked within a categorical sty.
To that which they point,
As an indication of relation
Not the sentimentilization,
Is that which shall never die.

Let go,
Then watch the urge
To grasp and to merge.
Just let the mind fly by.
When the hour begins to sour,
Let time flower to the truth.
Let this melt away.
“Clutching belief will bring relief”
Is what they seem to say.
Heed not the words,
Listen to the birds,
And learn from both the Way.

Subsistence on thought is paid by soul.
In return one receives an empty bowl.
To beg, to cry, and to plead
In order to relieve the need,
To feel the phantom filling
Of that which is forever full.

Fullness of  mind is a passing state,
One that will constantly shift and abate.
Transience is the world abound,
There is no place it is not found.
Only here, right now, within,
Is there ever a ceasing of the din.
It is no it, nor a thing,
No word can define
The pinnacle of the sublime.
No conception can contain,
The feeling never felt,
The Origin of all I’s we certainly remain.

Why is it then that we pretend?
In rehearsal without beginning or end,
The Director’s chair sits empty, ominous,
Actors mistaking themselves for an imagined audience,
Denying what lies offstage sine sentiens,
Sucked headfirst into a meagre world of triviality,
Thoughtlessly accepting the falsehoods of mortality.

But here and there,
An earthly glimmer of recollection
From stars into waters of reflection,
Arising in those who dare
To question and forbear:
Ratiocination by quotation,
Frenetic mental masturbation,
Matron of the multitudinous machinations of mankind.

The true hero of our day,
In this age of consuming cliché,
Is the one who stands within,
Casts down the binding script,
Uncovers that which words are placed upon,
A message plain as dawn.
That encompasses and outstrips
Every single thought that exists
And recognizes what still persists.

All are simple dreams it seems,
Beckoning to hold the attention
Of both creator and invention.
Who can continue in another way?
Bound by fear, bound by inertia,
Bound by the past of every day.
Simply by allowing apperceiving
Of our thought-filled universes,
Shall we go beyond the notion,
The motion of devotion to self and other.
Closing the wounds of sundering isolation,
Rising over open oceans,
Penetrating all there is in sight,
With the presence of endless transforming light.

Forget the beliefs.
Forget the wishes,
Forget the words.
For the single moment
Stop searching for that which lies
In the prepackaged maldigested pittances of intellectualism
Here right now, as always,
Is the silence within silence,
Is the abscence of the absentees
Beneath the Seas of Me’s.

Understand as joy.
Give, receive, and enthuse.
Without detouring down the winding road,
Drudging to the dully mesmerizing abode,
Built by bricks of warped intention,
Fused with subconscious blinding contention,
A perpetuated system in recursive division
That lil’ ol’ place we like to call a prison.
Have you ever met the warden?
He likes to sit there every mornin’
Whistlin’ while he’s reading,
The same old paper he’s always heeding.
By noon, he’s sitting, talking,
All alone in his tiny locked-up cell
Never once having thought
Of the keys hanging about his waist,
Never once setting foot outside.

Then at night, as silence dawns,
Come the voices in his dreams:
‘Oh whatever shall we do?’ cries You.
‘Whatever shall we be?’ cries Me.
‘I’d much rather die!’ cries I.
So they howl, whimpering softly as they did long ago,
Tears streaming from their swollen eyes
Soaking wet from the evening rains,
Swept inside, without second thought,
Into the unquenchable curiosity of neoteny.

But now he laughs, amid the sighs.
For he sees the ploys
Of these poor little boys,
And strokes them lovingly as they fade away
Back into the nothingness from which they arise.

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Jan 31 2011

It is not within what is called the mind, or within its contents.
It is not within what is called the body, or its contents.
It is not in what is called the soul, or its contents.
It is not within what is called the emotions, or the feelings, or the frustrations,
Or the beliefs, or the instincts, or the perceptions, or the attitudes, or the preferences,
Or the possessions, or the actions, or the memories, or the experiences, or the dreams,
Or any other thing, material or conceptual.

It is all that lies beyond those, and yet it permeates all of them.
It is that which allows all things to exist.

It is consciousness.

It is being.

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Jan 31 2011

Humanity is divinity pretending to be demonic but denying both the pretending and the divinity.

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Jan 31 2011

First we learn to see things,
Then we learn to see nothing,
Finally we see that which is both thing and nothing and recognize it as ourselves.

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Nov 09 2010


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