The Law of the mechanical Turk.

           The Mechanical Turk or The Turk was an automated chess playing machine, constructed in the late 17th century and patented by Wolfgang von Kempelen, as token for his affection towards the Empress of Austria, Maria Theresa.

                  It was later revealed to be a hoax, the proclaimed-automaton was installed with a secret compartment in which a chess master could hide inside and operate the machine.

The Turk appeared to be able to play a strong game of chess against a human opponent. During the Turk’s campaign from 1770-1854(84 years), The Turk played and vanquished many challengers including the likes of revolutionary-thinkers such as: Napoleon Bonaparte and Benjamin Franklin.

Wolfgang von Kempelen died in 1804. Yet, the automaton continued to compete for another 50 years, after Johann Nepomak Malzel purchase the machine.

Johann Allgaier, Boncourt, Aaron Alexandre, William Lewis, Jacques Mouret and William Schlumberger are some of the turk’s operators, however the original chess players during time Kempelen possessed the machine, is still a mystery.

 

 

The law of the mechanical turk in the workforce.

Law of Mechanical Turk- a crowd-sourcing internet marketplace that enables individuals or businesses(known as Requesters) to coordinate the use of human intelligence to perform tasks that computers are currently unable to do.

The law of the mechanical turk has been integrated into the workforce, not just for idle screen-watchers but for pedestrians caught between Associate degrees and retirement.

To put it mildly, any task–Any Task that would otherwise call for a professional, expert, or all around insensitive know-it-all, can be downgraded and monetized. The Breaking down of huge complex tasks/jobs into intricate parts, and replacing with a paint-by-the-numbers crew. Thus, giving the illusion of productivity for the cost of creativity and innovation. Outsourcing your golden goose to keep profit margins in the green, is the truest example of a fool’s gambit.

Meanwhile, the educational system continues to feed the beast, shuffling out more test takers and honor roll inductees–keeping the Telsas of our generation riding the trial and error roller-coaster or the minimum wage scavenger hunt.

The Mechanical Turk is a symbol of industrialism, reducing the business model into its smallest and crudest form: boss and workers. Which raises a bunch of eyebrows when contemplating questions like: Why pay a digital media specialist to do my direct marketing, when I can get 6 space monkeys with an enormous amount of student debt, to do it for me on the weekends, for less the cost. Maybe not in this manner, but you get the underlining message.

     What that means for the rest of us.

The machines are coming; embrace the “Age of the Hyphens”. Soon, factory jobs will be automated by machines and artifical intelligence. A pandemic of micro-terminators staggering and shuffling product on and off the assembly line. Leaving not a job left in sight unless you are the  mechanic.  An interesting part in history is taking place before our very eyes. The average person will need at least 5 side projects in order to make a living, and I do mean “Projects”, because the low-paying remedial jobs won’t available .

So, the question is: what will you do when all your excuses are gone? The things that was, at one time, considered too risky–now, it is your lifeline. Working overtime for Walmart won’t save you, anymore. And the only way to earn a living is to become the rock-star, you dreamed you could be; the painter and works of art you fantasized about creating; the novelist and the stories you wished to show the world.

What will you do when playing it is riskier than living your purpose?

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Book Reviews: Linchpin by Seth Godin.

 

  Indispensable vs. disposable…Which are you?

First, let me start out by recognizing the Clarity and the insight of the writer. It couldn’t have been easy, not only, creating a platform for others can benefit, but by carefully shedding the light on the uniqueness of every individual and unlocking our true potential in form of challenging the status quo, taking risk and doing the work that matters. Not to mention, stressing the underlining truth behind the education system— in which, the law of the mechanical Turk depends solely on its indoctrination principles and thrives from the system’s ability create loyal and obedient workers.  While preaching to beware of falling into the trap, of being seduced by mediocrity, of want to fit in. With that in mind, the most important messages by far are “are you indispensable?”, “are waiting around for someone to give you instructions?”, “are you making art?” “what if this doesn’t work?”. If you learn nothing from this book, take these sticking points into consideration, especially when it comes to your own personal development.

        Key sticking points:

  • Give gifts– In a world of dollar signs, decimals and commas, the man whom adds value before discussing his worth in gold, possesses extraordinary qualities which are counter-intuitive to the current mythology of the status quo. People rarely appreciate things that are free, or of which come easy and are treated as such. (perceived lower value). But in spite, of this ethical paradox, gifts serve as an excellence mode for emotional labor. Giving gifts humanizes us, displays vulnerability, and, hears the clincher: builds trust. Trust is far more vital to business, then effectiveness marketing slogans, direct emailing, and newsletters could ever be. When people trust you; they share your ideas, your videos; they debate your philosophies and hang on your every word.
  • Emotional labor-Too many times, particularity when it comes to job requirements and attendance base compensation, we are limited or rather we limit to certain standardized roles in the workplace—creativity and independent thought are replaced with conformity and complacency, leave hardly any wiggle room for change. emotional labor becomes key component and highly sot after skill in the workforce. Doing what others won’t do, doing what their coworkers consider to be “not my job”, looking for and finding ways to innovate and most importantly, not waiting for instructions from anyone. As the average paves the way of being indispensable.
  • Create art– You owe it to yourself to create art. Factory jobs, though abundant now, are progressively unprofitable, economically. So, we must find new ways to craft a lifestyle, outside of the typical job. Weaving together knowledge and accumulated skills, in order, to truly draw upon available resources and live the new American dream. Because soon, technology will eventually replace the average worker whom, are only required to just show up and use minimal labor alongside basic insight to the job.
  • There is no map– the map is not the terrain. You have-to find your own way and using someone else’s map maybe beneficial, however, in the long run, with just earn you a reputation of being just another carbon copy. Taking bits and pieces from others map is acceptable but creating a life that only you, specifically, and the experience, the knowledge, the willingness to learn and to adapt as fluid as breathing the air, can create that life.
  • Resistance– At one time, this evolutionary instinct was our greatest tool, to avoid being eaten in jungle. Now, millennia after millennia have come and gone only for our survival mechanisms to betray us. Resistance is the pushback. Resistance wants the easy way out: the safe and unfulfilling job, you, hours after clocking out still complain about how much you hate it. The book you’ve wanted to write but can never seem to find the time to put pen to paper. The business venture that has been in the making forever, now, but your too worry about the outcome to set it in motion. The Resistance doesn’t want you to feel pain or fear or discomfort. So, the fastest way to accomplice its objective: is to talk you out of it, by making you second guess yourself or give you just enough excuses, in which you actually-feel better by not starting, in the first place. Or worse, The Resistance makes you feel as though, your initiatives need certain requirements, in order, to start something truly remarkable.

In conclusive, I highly, highly, highly recommend this book. Seth Godin is a truly inspiring visionary; he offers real world solutions to generically bland society of closet thinks. The book, now, is cheap, and it offers so much more value, than I initially gave it credit for. I mean, if you really want to digest something that is thought provoking and goal inspiring. You need to pick yourself up a copy TODAY. I read it at least once, so I don’t forget why I blog and where I want it to take me. So ask yourself after you’ve read It. ARE YOU INDISPENSABLE? ARE YOU A LINCHPIN?click here .Get your copy today.

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Why wait…love

 

  The Sea.

Have you ever met someone? You know. The opposite gender’s equivalent of yourself. As a man, this is rare occurrence, though, the occasional mishap of running into someone whom also shares a mutual love of the works of Robert Greene would be ideally satisfying. But still, in a sea of pointless pussy; the wayward traveler must be careful not to drown. No life preserver, no rafts, no life guards, not even a Wilson via the movie “Cast Away”. You drown. How does the pot know when he has found his top? Is their really such a thing as a soulmate? And if so, are each of us only given one? In a lifetime or are people like interchangeable parts(coined by Henry Ford) and as we evolve, our soulmate are swapped for another one. It makes you wonder about the fishing analogy associated with dating and relationship, especially in reference to throwing the fish back if it’s not the one for us. For me, I rarely like anyone, right away. I study people before allowing anyone in my sandbox. Years of psychology textbooks instead of nursery rhymes as bedtime story will do that to a person. No, that doesn’t mean I’m an expert. It just means I’m more interested in how a person ticks in the grand scheme of things. I don’t use labels, but rather I care more to understand how they think instead of arbitrarily calling a pickle jar a grease dispenser.

  Claw Machine for the lotus eaters.

I remember going to arcades, mostly in skating rinks and movie theaters, and among the countless matches of Mortal Kombat and Street Fighter; my money almost always go towards the claw machine. Sometimes they would have good prizes, others not so much but I rarely saw anyone consistently win with the claw machine. I mean, rarely. That’s if the damn thing worked at all, sometimes the claw would descend and go straight back up again without any indication: the buttons work. And when the machine actually did always some control: it was nearly impossible to get the prize you wanted. You would probably end up with a power puff girl decoder ring (in my case) instead of the Tommy Oliver White Ranger movie replica. My point is: soul searching works the same way. There are no adults anymore. Just modified children. Each of us are layers upon layers: of ongoing themes, reoccurring and recirculation of the same type of thoughts, behaviors and stigmas. Sheltered by the personas, in which we developed for survival purposes, as well for our own social calibration to the outside world. And finally, the motives and influences our parents had on us. Coincidently, one day a group of scientist huddle together—took all these deciding factors: and dubbed it a Personality. For the most, given our disposition, the vast major suffer from deep wounds of Apathy. Everyday merges into another day, then another; and then another. Barreling through work and for some, school—appealing to expectations from friends, parents, co-workers, spouse, boyfriend/girlfriends. The days blur together: more, and more dull interactions. So we delegate. Free up time for some, while others we offer nothing but excuses and broken promises. We do mean to. But, we want to be around people whom, make us feel and understand us on deeper levels, then we could possible understand. While, chasing a career, pursuing happiness, staying connected with friends; starting a family, pleasing parents and ultimately finding love. They come into our lives at the most inopportune times and we selfishly give into the excuse: time makes bond strong.  And how can I have such strong connection with someone I barely know.

Yet, I’m stunted at the multitude of people(preferably religious) still are under the impression: that there is only one person out there for you. Obviously, the guest on the Jerry Springer never got the memo.

 

       Broken Rhythm

 

That feeling. Every moment your with this person, and you probably been together for years. As the months fly by, you say to yourself: they are the one. Through the best of times, through the worst of times—you still love them and with every cycle of pleasure offsetting the pain: those feelings grow stronger; they intensify, even. Every morning and every night, if your not lying next to them—your thinking about them. Where are they? What are they doing? And if they take too long to return your phone. Are they with someone else? Have they met someone? Frequently, you even daydream about them see their face, making note of every detail as vividly as you can imagine. Then. One day. You lose that connection. Maybe, you move and now it has turned into a long-distance relationship. Maybe, Work has increased or a promotion and your priorities change, Maybe, they still have more school. But, “We can make it work, we love each other”, you tell yourself. Until one day…the magic fades. Late nigt conversation are replaced with tears, not of joy, but of anguish. Your daily check-ins become shorter and shorter. As the torment increases: they become strangers. Each passing day, no, passing moment; the little things about this person that irritates you—come bubbling to the surface. And that image, that perfect picture of this person; you always hold in your mind’s eye—starts to fade and fade and fade. Without Delay, as the warm fuzzy feeling is on it’s last leg: you break up. Could be until the fall or for good.

Your world is spinning. You know nothing else but them and now you have-to reinvent yourself. For the first time in a while, you are just you. You are not his girlfriend and his not your boyfriend, vice versa.  Emotionally shutting down and distance: you hope that you get back together, not so much with words or action, but in the form of rereading old messages and keeping all the pictures you’ve taken together. Tell everyone you need time to heal, all-the-while shuffling through the day—trying not to burst into tears.

          Ask…and it will come.

Love is constant, yet fleeting if not attended to. You can date someone you have known, seems like forever, break up. And as soon as you are at a low point: someone else fills the gap. As a moth to a flame, you meet someone new and that same fuzzy feeling comes fluttering back even stronger then before. We should embrace these moments—embrace anyone whom, fills us up with so much joy. Seeing their smile—that weird twinkle in their eye—and how they make us laugh while clinging to every word from them. They could be gone tomorrow. Anyone whom, authentically give you great pleasure to be around…hold nothing back. It can all go away, and you’ll be alone again. Time doesn’t build bonds. You can meet someone right now at work, at a movie theater, a skating rink, or at a Starbucks: that blows your fucking mind away.

Pretty soon, you find yourself have inside jokes with this person, public, as this is going on: you are stealing their sayings and mannerism and using it in regular conversation. Now, a new world has been created, just you and them. And it all could have not happen if you let something as inconsistent as the rules of time dictate it. Life is not perfect. And perfect timing doesn’t exist.

Live now and love hard. Destroy and rebuild

Confession chronicles

Interlude

With the upcoming release of my little bundle of joy, which would be my first book; my first attempt showing the world glimpse of my vision and possibly crash and burn into a drunken stooper while swearing off writing again. Only to redo the cycle of: excitement, discovery, and finally disappointment. Thus, the tangerine-colored light bulb went off in my publisher’s head and she came up with the brilliant idea of creating blog. To not only keep me writing frequently but in addition to that, establishing a platform that would help future ventures—couldn’t hurt. Not to mention, the emphasis on the human aspect of my work. So…here goes.

I’m an Outsider. And not by choice, to me, interacting with people is by far more difficult then “finding a needle in a haystack”. If I had to come up with a more plausible analogy; the closest reference would be finding Carmen San Diego…in San Diego. I’ve probably devoured over fifteen psychology textbooks, over twenty thousand in man hours—devoted to learning micro-expressions and body language from Youtube videos, even more on seduction and hypnosis. Despite, My efforts whatever success I have or did achieve has completely washed over any preconception going into my findings almost to the point where I wonder why started in the first place. However, I learned more about myself than anything.

People say I’m judgmental. Maybe they are right, especially when it comes women. It’s not that I think I’m more important than a woman, quite the opposite in fact. It’s more like, I want to know everything about everyone but in a generation that swipes left, right clicks; leaves comments unread, curves more bodies than a licensed chiropractor, and last but not least people and their filters on everything.

Misunderstood maniac

I don’t know what is real anymore. Are they really a friend or a saboteur? We always talk for hours in person, yet she never replies when I ask her to come skating. Am I a good listener or someone’s emotional tampon? Navigating through people’s dirty laundry, seems to be all I’m good for. I don’t think I’ve ever had a meaningful relationship. How can I? No one has ever understood me, even the people that are supposed to be my friends have never understood me. Not even my parents. The politically correct thing to do would be to simply blame my parents, hell, at least, Freud would agree with me. But I can’t. Once you get a taste of that sweet hot fudge of free will and critical thinking, something truly life changing happens: you can’t blame others. That’s right, I found a way through the back to the dinner party, in spite of the “no blacks or Jews” sign without an invitation. Excuse the colorful metaphor, but I want you to understand how rare a quality it is to take ownership over everything that happens to you or for you.

Broken link in the chain

I probably have the shortest contact list out of any single male my age. Not that I don’t enjoy the elegant banter every now and again. A little chat among consenting adults but rarely do I find anyone I talk to for hours, as if anyone does that anymore. Unfortunately I suffer from another ailment of not wanting to be bothered, yet dying on the inside for someone to call. Passing up social gathers, only to ultimately regretting no ceasing the moment to increase my circle. A walking contradiction of charisma and indifference. I have a natural magnetism to people that’s very much underused.

So what’s my deal? I care about nothing, yet I love everything and everyone all at the same time. Did I say I was a contradiction? Noble in theory, ambivalent in practice. I want to be rich and ground in humility at the same time. I enjoy anonymity as I’m hand you my business. A wall flower rooted in a stone garden.

First to be last

First, I’m first in everything in my family. The first to go to college and dropout in less than a year. Only go back six years later, and realize I was right: degrees are bullshit. I am the first to start my own business only to go the first, second, third, and fourth month without a sale. Ironically, after a complete overhaul of the structure of my website and made more money in two weeks than I make in a year: selling dildos. Consequently, two more weeks later a receive legal documents to cease all distribution of all adult toys products or stare down a six-figure law suit. I close up shop and go back to being a complimentary artist. I am first to spend 67 hours in a holding cell…in Beijing. I’m also first to celebrate a twenty-seventh with children or a wedding ring. I am first to write his own book, blog, and sell his artwork via amazon.

At best, I’m a poor man’s Michelangelo. Still, I’m first to march to the beat of  a different drummer. Maybe, what I think is wrong with me are the things not so right with the world. Where does a man with hardly any role-models and male influences go when your hero’s fiction characters and your father cares more about maintain a vehicle than connecting with his own son. To later for a heart to heart now, dad. The veil has been lifted and Moses’ trail ride to the land of milk is just another; one, I can’t afford to believe in anymore.