Why even think about the nature of reality? That's just the syntax of the reality code. It's fixed. It's like air. We can't compare it to anything, can't even see it. But the environment, that's a different story. These conventions, these interactions, these things around us. Those foundations of our environment, our shared class library, that's what's interesting. That's where we can question the design, the method. All these objects, they all fit together: What would it mean to have something truly different, to still fit in reality but not make use of any of our reusable code?
And I've been thinking about history. This environment we're all building -- there's only one of it, and it's lasted as long as there's been humanity. This rug we weave. It's beautiful. It's all around us. I sit in a building older than I am! My life is textured by billions of humans and tens of thousands of years, at every moment. The age of things. The life we lead. The sounds, the city, the life. And here we are.
Hello.
Why even think about the nature of reality? That's just the syntax of the reality code. It's fixed. It's like air. We can't compare it to anything, can't even see it. But the environment, that's a different story. These conventions, these interactions, these things around us. Those foundations of our environment, our shared class library, that's what's interesting. That's where we can question the design, the method. All these objects, they all fit together: What would it mean to have something truly different, to still fit in reality but not make use of any of our reusable code?
And I've been thinking about history. This environment we're all building -- there's only one of it, and it's lasted as long as there's been humanity. This rug we weave. It's beautiful. It's all around us. I sit in a building older than I am! My life is textured by billions of humans and tens of thousands of years, at every moment. The age of things. The life we lead. The sounds, the city, the life. And here we are.
Hello.