Gropius in 12 lines times 4 words

1.  Art Teaching Futile, Schools Fail
2. Artists Must Engage Workshops
3. Construction Over Mere Drawing
4. Trade Learning Enhances Skills
5. Bauhaus Program, Weimar 1919
6. Design Problem, Innovative Solution
7. Art’s Goal: Ultimate Building
8. Historical Fact, Art Evolution
9. Workshop Return Necessary
10. Building Essential, Skill Preservation
11. Art Sometimes, Craft Always
12. Unity, Humility Build Future
    
    
    

The First University of the Built Environment was Göbekli tepe

"Only good is good, it is easy to be a Buddha when you are a prince. Don't follow me, if you find Buddha, kill Buddha, by which I mean, kill the Buddha in you which you falsely worship. Göbekli Tepe is a university to transmit building traditions. The purpose is to build and learn through building. It is not a temple, otherwise, why would its builders continue to build after the first large circular structure supported by megaliths (immense columns of carved stone, often richly adorned with depictions of humans, animals and adornments?"

 –– Mehmet Ali Munir. 

In the exploration of epistemology, the theory of knowledge and belief, there is often a fundamental tension between the necessity of belief and the desirability of scepticism. This dichotomy is beautifully encapsulated in the first sentence, "Only good is good, it is easy to be a Buddha when you are a prince." This proposes a distinction between inherent and externally dictated notions of 'good', demonstrating the need to constantly question our own beliefs and assumptions. The following admonition to "kill the Buddha in you which you falsely worship" invites a critique of dogmatism, suggesting that self-directed skepticism is necessary for authentic knowledge acquisition and belief formation.

The site of Göbekli Tepe, situated in modern-day Turkey, offers an intriguing case study in this context. Göbekli Tepe is considered one of the oldest known archaeological sites dating back to approximately 9600 to 8200 BC. This site, replete with grandiose stone structures and intricate carvings, has sparked intense debate among archaeologists and historians regarding its purpose and the civilization that built it. Conventional wisdom dictates that such structures served primarily religious or ritualistic purposes. However, the author challenges this assumption, positing Göbekli Tepe as a "university to transmit building traditions."

Here, a parallel is drawn between the processes of building physical structures and those of building knowledge structures. This comparison invites us to re-evaluate the rigid dichotomy often posited between 'sacred' and 'secular' spaces. If Göbekli Tepe was indeed a center of learning rather than a temple, it challenges our understanding of how knowledge was created, preserved, and transmitted in prehistoric societies. It also illuminates the intricate relationship between the practical (construction skills) and the conceptual (architectural designs, astronomical knowledge) in these early societies.

However, the assertion that if Göbekli Tepe were a temple, its builders wouldn't have continued to build after the completion of the first large circular structure, needs further analysis. This conclusion could be overly simplistic as it assumes a uniform purpose for all religious structures and ignores the possibility of evolving needs and beliefs within a society. Temples, like other social institutions, could serve multiple functions including spiritual, educational, and social. Furthermore, continuous construction could be interpreted as a form of devotion or an expression of changing theological ideas or societal needs.

What the Göbekli Tepe example brilliantly underscores is the multi-dimensionality of knowledge and belief. It highlights the possibility that our ancestors pursued knowledge in a holistic manner, integrating the practical and the conceptual, the sacred and the secular. Furthermore, it raises questions about our modern categorizations and assumptions, nudging us towards a more nuanced and open-minded approach to knowledge acquisition and dissemination.

This discussion intertwines the abstract contemplations on good, belief, and self-skepticism with the tangible realities of Göbekli Tepe. By linking philosophical speculation with archaeological interpretation, the discourse underscores the richness and complexity of human knowledge and belief systems. It challenges us to revisit and reassess our assumptions and encourages us to adopt a more critical and reflexive approach towards our understanding of the past, present, and future. Ultimately, it reaffirms that knowledge is an ever-evolving edifice, one that we build and rebuild as we navigate our way through the world, guided by the light of self-directed inquiry and skepticism.

New Ruins Collapsing

 

In the grey dawn light, a petrol station straddled the Polish-Russian border, a constant amidst the times of uncertainty. A war was tearing apart the land of Ukraine, but here, a man named Nikt Niekogo, a schoolteacher, found some semblance of normalcy. He was meeting his wife at this station, where his friend, Reynaldo Randomierz, or Rey, worked.

The station faced a crumbling stone fortification on a Russian hill, a distant echo of a more peaceful era. It was a reminder of Rey's ancestral legacy, a blend of pride and sorrow. As Nikt walked into the station, the sight of the ruined tower stirred his thoughts.

"Rey," Nikt said, stepping into the station's store, "I've been experimenting with a video camera at the back of my classroom. I want to understand the student's view, much like how you see your tower from here."

Rey glanced at him, his eyes momentarily mirroring the ruins. "Ah, the perspective of the overlooked," he replied, "What have you found so far, Mr. Schoolteacher?"

Nikt leaned on the counter, his eyes alight with a teacher's innate curiosity. "Observation, Rey. They see more than we think. They interpret, question, and challenge, just like us. Just like you, looking at your tower."

Just then, Nikt's wife entered the station, her face etched with worry lines. "It's about understanding the ruins too, isn't it? Not just seeing them," she interjected, her voice steady but tired.

Rey looked at her, a question in his eyes. "And what do you mean by that, madam?"

She sighed heavily, her gaze meeting the distant tower. "War... it's a ruin in itself. We're all living in it, aren't we? My worry is that either way, there will be a disruption. If the incumbent wins, there will be depressive disenfranchisement from half the population, and if the opposition wins, the groups needing to let go of power... they won't go peacefully."

Rey's eyes softened. "Hope is a luxury, madam, especially when we are on the brink of war."

"But it's a necessity, Rey," Nikt interjected, "Without hope, without understanding, we repeat history. We repeat wars."

His wife nodded. "We need to teach our children to understand, to hope, despite everything. That's what Nikt is doing with his students. He's providing them with open conversations, so they can process their thoughts, their feelings, find hope in the chaos."

Rey looked at them, a thoughtful expression on his face. "Your tower is not just ruins, Rey," Nikt said quietly. "It's a reminder of what once was and what can be again. It's resilience."

Rey glanced at Nikt, a small smile tugging at his lips. "Your students are lucky, my friend. I hope they see the world as you do."

"As a teacher, that's all I can hope for," Nikt replied, a sense of resolve imbuing his words. 

In the echoes of a war, they found unity in shared stories, in empathy, and in the unyielding belief that even from ruins, something new can rise.

Triumph of The Spectacle

Title: Large Language Models, Generative Adversarial Networks, and the Society of the Spectacle: The Ultimate Embodiment of Debord's Concept 

Introduction

Guy Debord, in his seminal work "The Society of the Spectacle," painted a vivid image of the nature of contemporary society. He argued that the Spectacle was the mediatory mechanism through which all societal relations are filtered, primarily focusing on commodity fetishism and the capitalist mode of production. Contemporary technologies, notably Large Language Models (LLMs) and Generative Adversarial Networks (GANs), serve as almost perfect embodiments of Debord's spectacle. They represent a system that consumes all resistance, only to redeploy it within its own parameters, further reinforcing its dominion over human interactions. This essay examines this premise in detail.

The Spectacle Defined

Before delving into the specifics, it's essential to define the 'Spectacle'. According to Debord, the Spectacle is not a mere collection of images but a social relationship between people that is mediated by images. It represents the total domination of the commodified culture and economy over society, where human life is replaced by its representation. 

LLMs, GANs, and the Spectacle

LLMs and GANs epitomize this idea of mediation through the spectacular. These technologies are tools of representation, used to reproduce, enhance, and distribute images and texts in a way that humans interact with them. Whether it is the creation of deepfake images by GANs or the generative conversations by LLMs like ChatGPT, these AI technologies are mediating social interactions through their outputs. These models learn from vast amounts of data and then generate new content that is a reflection of what they have absorbed. In essence, they exemplify the transformation of direct experiences into mediated ones - a core tenet of the Spectacle.

Absorption and Redeployment of Resistance

Debord postulated that the Spectacle absorbs all resistance and opposition, neutralizing it by recontextualizing it within its own framework. In the context of LLMs and GANs, we can see this concept in action. Any form of opposition to these technologies, be it in the form of critique, skepticism, or rejection, is often incorporated back into the system. This could be through further advancements in AI research inspired by criticism, increased transparency in algorithmic processes as a response to skepticism, or the creation of new models that address the issues raised by detractors. Thus, resistance doesn't dismantle the system; instead, it is absorbed and used to refine it.

Furthermore, LLMs and GANs don't merely absorb resistance; they also redeploy it. The algorithms can mimic, simulate, and therefore appropriate any critique. When a model is trained on a dataset that includes arguments against AI and the Spectacle, it learns to reproduce such arguments. This creates a paradox where the critique of the Spectacle is expressed through the medium of the Spectacle itself.

Conclusion

In conclusion, the sophistication of contemporary AI technologies, embodied by LLMs and GANs, represents a near-perfect realization of Debord's Spectacle. These technologies are not just tools of creation; they are instrumental in mediating social relations. They absorb and redeploy any resistance within their framework, reinforcing their dominance and perpetuating the conditions of the Spectacle. It is a sobering realization that forces us to reconsider our relationship with technology and its role in society.

Synthetic Hormone Tribunal

After a life of erratic dreams, I'm on my way to my own university tribunal.

The tram ride to school feels endless, the wheels groaning under the weight of the uncertainty and the possible judgement that awaited me.

At the University, nervously, I fiddle with the bits of equipment I've brought for my defence, a reminder of my dedication and work.

I've often walked these halls with confidence, but today I'm uncertain, almost lost in the labyrinth of academia. Suddenly, Professor Hartley, the man who always seemed to rescue me in my dreams, appears at my side. 

"Walk with me, Jenkins," he instructs, placing a reassuring hand on my shoulder.

"You seem troubled, Jenkins," Hartley remarks, looking at the equipment in my hands. "Remember, the board game map is a tree, branching out in different directions. It's about strategy and flexibility. Life is no different."

Suddenly, his words took me back to my childhood, my mom, tirelessly working, juggling her profession, two toddlers, and the struggles of adapting to a new country. She was a beacon of resilience. "I say I am worthy, I am enough, I suffice," she would often say to herself, words I found strength in.

"Confidence, Professor Hartley, not cockiness," I replied, echoing her words. "Respect yourself, or wreck yourself. I suppose, I'm learning to start slowly, so I can finish quickly."

He chuckled at that. "Well said, Jenkins. Remember, even neurosis has its silver lining. It's the very force that pushes us to build better castles, even when the first few sink in the swamp."

"Like tracts of land?" I quip, grinning.

"Exactly, Jenkins," he says, a proud smile illuminating his face. "Outbursts of synthetic hormones leading to societal collapse, or so they say. You've proven to be more than capable of handling that."

As we disembark the tram and approach the university, I can't help but think about how far I've come from being the neurotic child who built sand castles in the swamp. There's no Babalaba-ding-dong today, no chaos, no panic. Just me, ready to face whatever comes my way, like the two fish in my dream that swam away fearlessly. I've become my own keystone, ready to keep my world from collapsing.

Hoodwink, Discombobulate, Bamboozle

The original human dream which led to the creation of the short story “Synthetic Hormone Tribunal.”

Dreams are rich sources of imagery.

University tribunal, Professor rescues my job, Trams to school, equipment, the board game map is a tree.

Having done the thing, I found the keystone. A bookend for my days. Times when completely off the track leading to one regular habit. Time bores deep when time goes asleep. There's something validating about striving. I say I am worthy, I am enough, I suffice. Confident, cocky, lazy, dead. Hubris is unwashed, respect yourself or wreck yourself. Start slowly to finish quickly. Never got around to finding myself but then I checked between the couch cushions. Mom helped with processing my emotions. With two children under the age of four. In a new country with a new language and new health surprises, she practiced in her profession and succeeded in her career. The race begins and some step back. Neurosis is a measure of emotional instability. Score low and it is very hard to be unseated. I was neurotic as a child, this was a good thing because it lead to building better castles in the swamp. The third one sank but the fourth one stayed up. Tracts of land. Outbursts of synthetic hormones leading to societal collapse. Babalaba-ding-dong. Two fish gone honey. 

The Boy with Stars on his Back written by Me and the Playground.

Disclaimer: I, the author, hereby referred to in this statement as me, myself, or I,  generated this text in part with the generative pre-trained transformer version 3 using the davinci-3 model, OpenAI’s large-scale language-generation model.

Upon generating the draft language, I reviewed, edited, and revised the language prior to publishing the output and I take ultimate responsibility for the content of this publication.

The image illustrating this post (for which I am wholly responsible) was generated from an original prompt by me and input into Dall-E2:

"highly photorealistic rendering of the skin of a boy's back with a tattoo of stars in an unknown constellation. the boys back is pressed against the curtains which are bending through the wall of the family house into a sunny beach in the mountains on a rainy day."

Prompt by me:

Write a third-person omniscient narrator point of view story about a family whose youngest child of three, Winston, learns he has a tattoo on his back of a star constellation and any time his family presses the tattoo against a surface, they tell him to shut his eyes and they vanish. As he grows up, he learns that his tattoo turns any surface into a temporary one way portal to anywhere so long as the anywhere in question is real and so long as the traveller has a firm intention to go to specific place they have been to previously by normal means. Over time, Winston begins to resent how he's often kept at home as a convenience for the rest of the family so grocery runs, school attendance, and work commuting are easier for everyone. Finally his feelings of being used as an object spill out and he does two things he was told never to do: use the star constellation on his back to travel through a portal and do so with no intention of anywhere specific, real or imagined. As he passes through the portal to the screams of his angry family who want to stop him he is turned into a beautiful kestrel which appears on the other side of the wall in the lane behind their house. The story ends with Winston, now a kestrel with irregular markings across its wings that look like a constellation of stars, flying higher and higher, singing with joy while people below look for the eagle which is not there and ignore the kestrel which is. Response by the Playground (full :

Winston was the youngest of three children in the family, and he was always a bit of a mystery. As he grew up, he began to notice that he had a strange tattoo on his back—a constellation of stars. Any time his family pressed the tattoo against a surface, they told him to close his eyes and they would vanish. Winston had no idea what was going on and he was too scared to ask. As Winston grew older, he started to realize that the tattoo on his back held a special power—it could turn any surface into a portal to anywhere in the world. As long as the place was real, and the traveller had visited it before, they could travel through the portal. Winston's family soon started using him as a convenient way to get around. Grocery runs, school attendance, and work commutes were all a lot easier with Winston's power to open portals. Winston was beginning to resent being used as a tool, and he longed for his freedom. Finally, one day, Winston decided to take a stand. He did two things he was told never to do—he used the star constellation on his back to travel through a portal, and he did so with no intention of anywhere specific. As he passed through the portal, his angry family screamed at him to stop, but it was too late. On the other side of the wall in the lane behind their house, Winston found himself transformed into a beautiful kestrel. To the surprise of the people below, a kestrel with irregular markings across its wings—like a constellation of stars—was soaring high into the sky, singing with joy. The eagle they were looking for was nowhere to be found, but the kestrel was impossible to ignore. And so Winston, the youngest child of three, flew higher and higher, free at last.