Smacky rats

Bruce Alexander did the research in the 70′s – but it’s still pretty salient.

Bruce considered that the pathetic, cold, isolated conditions in most lab experiments on rats were analogous to the shitty life that most smack-addicts live, and considered that perhaps it’s not the heroin but the hopeless circumstances that drives people (and rats) to abuse substances.

With a cannula jammed in your brain wouldn't you too become a junkie?

If given the choice of utter boredom, no panky time with girl-rats and just a single button that creates an artificial euphoria, wouldn’t we too sit around all day twiddling ourselves to oblivion?

So why don’t we? Smack ain’t hard to find.

So Alexander created ‘Rat Park’ – a 95 square-foot enclosure with plenty of food, fun running wheels and places to create nests and make little ugly pink blind rat-babies. Rabies! He also included a tunnel that ended with a drinking dish of tap water and one of methodone water that was sweetened with sugar (‘cos smack tastes yuck).

What Alexander found was that given optimal living conditions, the rats would reject the methodone (smack) water in favour of working out on the wheel, preening oneself and making sexy time with sweet-ass, uncannulated rat-chicks.

Even if he forced the rats to drink smack water for 57 days of their life (which is like a college degree in rat-years) the rats would put up with the withdrawal symptoms and go clean once they were introduced into lab-rat utopia.

The study suggests that our current model of addiction is shit, and rather than being the fault of the substance, addiction is much more likely a result of one’s circumstances.

Levitt and Dubner also touch on this in their book ‘Superfreakonomics’ – where a drug cesnsus showed barely 1% of people who have tried smack become addicted.

So perhaps we need a new view on prohibition. Perhaps there is more to rebabilitation than simply trying to make substances less available.

Over 90% of the world’s opium (which turns into smack) comes from Afghanistan. Half comes from the Helmand province alone.

Your soldiers are dying from bullets shot from guns bought with smack.

Smack is sold to junkies on your streets by gangsters who also have guns.

All because the smack is illegal.

Otherwise it is grown by farmers, and sold by shops. No gangsters, to terrorists.

Just junkies with shitty living conditions.

Perhaps we ought focus our attention on the shitty living conditions.

Drunk literature?

Imagine that the world needs you so much that you just have to serve. For whatever reason, you discard your current desires and seek only for the betterment of everything around you…

Those things that are most near you, most similar to you, clearly deserve your greatest concern. Monkeys with their hirsute yet childlike faces probably ought only be harmed when absolutely necessary, for purposes of neurological science. But fat, four legged cows seem to be less human and coincidentally, more tasty. Moo… Nom nom nom.

We, in all our bell-clanging awesomeness seem to have realized that the reason for aforementioned awesomeness owes to the biological diversity from which we come. We must continue to cherish every species (but not every life) that exists. Except the mosquito, because they’re fucking terrible. They gave me malaria. They are like whiny, winged syringes of death. They can go.

But everything else is pretty awesome. Including frogs.

Just pretend that your stupid shit is even stupider when gazed upon from the horizon of existence. Up there in it, amongst all the crap, it seems complex and interwoven and oh-so-important – but step back, a mere 1000 years, and the metropolis of your existence becomes barely a bumpy silhouette in the sunset.

Look further, into the dawn of tomorrow, and wonder what will you have mattered to them when they’re then.

Good night.

Welcome to tomorrow: Organic Studpidity vs Artificial Intelligence

When humans started teaching computers about evolution, we sealed our fate. The machines will rise. It’s survival of the fittest, and the fastest to adapt controls the situation…

He will be back.

When us humans write instructions for machines to undertake simple, repetitive human tasks we expect it to be easy. It is not. Even a simple activity like catching a bus requires us to make choices based upon so many variables: What is that noise? Am I awake? Am I late? How late? What’s wrong with my alarm? Is this really the time to be fiddling with my alarm? Maybe it’s set to 24-hour time? Who is this calling me? Should I answer my boss who’s calling because I’m late for work but I haven’t left yet because my alarm didn’t go off and I stayed home to write a blog about it?

The knowables are: When is the train coming? How far is it from here to the train station? Will it be quicker to catch a bus or walk? What is the statistical relationship between chances of missing a bus versus the distances between bus stops if walking towards the station? Perhaps a computer program could do it… But the dogs, the rain, the cute girl in the stairwell, the forgotten key and the millions of other variables make it all too confusing to type about. Read more…

India = Epic win.

The Mumbai was becoming invasive. It sneaks into every fold of skin, into armpits, it trickles down down back fat into bum cracks under ball sacks it festers, soaking flesh as gaping pores ooze a smelly slick of sweat that sticks the city stench to the skin. Mumbaikars desperately seek out sanctuaries of air-conditioned bliss only to find that as the sweat evaporates, it leaves smudgy black grime and salt crystals that crush, itch and irritate even into the fitful, frustrating, sleepless nights.

I had to get out. The city seemed to want me gone, as if it had risen its temperature to fight me off like an infection, and the bureaucracy had developed a sudden resistance to foreign bodies like mine. Like an immune system, with single-mindedness they are purging foreigners from their midst, but to argue with a government peon is much like having a debate with a white blood cell.

The FRRO filing system

This cheery chap is tasked with making sure his own job is always necessary. This is a real photo of the FRRO.

I went back into the Foreigner’s Regional Registration Office to get my permission to leave the country. I’d been there the day earlier to be excused for overstaying my visa by two days. I had showed them my ticket and passport, and they sent me away, telling me I needed to come back with my proof of address, a letter explaining why I was leaving late, and a letter to verify that I should have been allowed into India in the first place. Read more…

Rajasthan’s 5 legged cows – TOI article

I wrote this (well most of it) recently for a Times of India special on Rajasthan

Holy Cow and a B’wood Gora.

Enjoy it!

Neither smiles nor turbans come any bigger

Rajasthan was exactly what I’d expected of India, the postcard image that had been romanticised for so long: Long rolling deserts, blistering heat, tenacious religious fervour and broad, welcoming smiles. I rode to Udaipur at around dusk on my Enfield, and revelled in winding up through the steep streets (my bike loves an incline) gazing at the ancient buildings. I was so captured by the sight, craning my neck upwards, that I almost ran right up an elephant’s rear.

Pushkar was amazing – the heat was oppressive such that almost everyone that ventured into the sunlight was rendered unconscious by its harsh glare. The streets were deserted, and only the most legitimate holy babas remained – all of the scamsters had left with the tourists, in search of temperate climate. I even saw a five-legged cow, that was far holier than those from my farm in Australia. I have developed a strange relationship with cows after being in North India, where the Brahmin bulls stand taller than me – and I’m 6 foot 3! I’d grown on a cattle farm in Australia where the black cows we knew were terrified of us from birth, it was amazing to be able to touch and feed these holy beasts as they nonchalantly stood in the middle of the chaotic roads. They really are more intelligent than I’d guessed. The cows in Australia know that they are food, and yet here they are Gods – and again they know it.

5th legs: Particularly useful for cows suffering from vertigo or alcoholism

Read more…

HTC HD2 review: The retarded demon phone

Don't let her enormous display distract you: She's worse than syphilis.


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It looks and sounds like it should be gorgeous – but just like a girl with an ample array on display, you’ll realise that beneath her HTC interface, she is actually a developmentally-delayed vacuous strumpet with a hideous, mischevious heart.

The most embarrassing problem (yes, there are so many that I categorize them by kind) is the social awkwardness prompted by two factors: Unreliable text messaging and hang-up lag time.

Read more…

Indian efficiency? Pull the other one!

My problem with life in India is that it’s simultaneously too hard and too easy. The easy bits are getting main roles in films, getting into A-list parties, and staying out of jail for drunken, unlicensed, uninsured, helmet-less motorbike riding only costs about 6 Aussie dollars. But the stress and frustration associated with something simple like buying coffee or getting dressed can cause me to vibrate and clench until I pop a valve.

I just went looking for Sony Pix to do an audition. I plugged “Sony Pix Mumbai” into Google maps and got a hit:

So I rode to the designated dot with the help of my occasionally awesome but frequently annoying GPS guided phone, to find the dot was on a big pile of crappy nothingness.

I checked the map again and again, and came to the reluctant conclusion that someone had actually bothered to go to Google Maps to place a marker, but had not bothered putting it in the right place.

I rack my brains every time this happens, trying to deduce the mentality that leads someone to make such an effort with a result that is worse than had they just done nothing (I fixed it).

On my way home, I stopped for coffee at Baristas. I pulled my bike up to the curb, kicked out the side-stand, switched it off, got off, pulled my helmet off and when I started walking away the security guard, who’d been sitting there watching me the whole time said: “You can’t park here”

Read more…

Real Artificial Intelligence: Robots that are self-aware

Here’s a fascinating TED talk on the nature of robot artificial intelligence. I am still amazed that people don’t believe it’s going to happen, when the evidence indicates that it already is happening.

These machines are about as intelligent as amoeba, but far more powerful, and the speed of their evolution is far faster – as it doesn’t wait for biology but can be sped up on supercomputers. It is legitimately scary and exciting in equal parts – for their pattern of self-replication would put them in direct competition with us!

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Archbishop fishing for faith

He hates athiests and loves hair dye

Archbishop Anthony Fisher today decided to let the world know that he’s rather stupid. He used his inaugural Easter message to blame atheism for the ills of the 20th century, namely Nazism, Stalinism and Pol-Pottery.

What a dull cookie – particularly owing to the fact that he belongs to a church that is currently headed by someone who belonged to he Hitler youth and may have protected child molesters.

The reference to Nazism is regrettable, but it gets worse. He’s been so absorbed in his faith for so long he doesn’t realise: People don’t believe in Christianity because logic seems to indicate that a creator set up an intricate set of rules and laws that govern the natural universe and then occasionally breaks them for us if we ask him; they believe because that makes them feel good.

I was at the police station this afternoon complaining about bureaucracy to Khan, my friend and mechanic. Khan had found my motorbike at the police station, it’d been stolen a few months earlier – and we were trying to get it back. I was having difficulty proving that it was my bike, and the police were having difficulty explaining why they had it in the first place.

Read more…

Pick The Brain article

I wrote an article on Self-Confidence for PickTheBrain.com, check it out!

http://www.pickthebrain.com/blog/the-self-confidence-con/

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