Developing a more elaborate "spoon theory" has been a private project—run by whom, I wonder—for a while, and I think I'm getting nearer to a formalization of the idea. Really! I have been thinking about specific actions that add or subtract "spoons".

I made a crucial realization a while back: one of the most telling experiences that reveals the nature of "spoons" is the extreme upset that comes from realizing, halfway from your car or your room to the door, you forgot your keys or some other important item. Do you turn around and repeat yourself, going back for the item, or do you feel at wit's end and keep going? I suggest that in turning around to go back, you are consuming a "spoon".

Hence I suggest that there's a deep-seated alliance between "spoons" and the quality of angular momentum. Spending a spoon must be something akin to spending a quantum of angular momentum, enough to enable your change of direction.

This has implications for the behavior of money-driven purposes and other such single-minded persons. "Spin", in the sense of marketing and sales technique and so forth, is a figure of speech. Yet we conjecture that it also describes a physical reality. Persons deeply invested in a singular cause, furiously overdriving themselves, are literally spinning. They are performing repetitive actions in tight loops, shuffling back and forth between the same few places and persons (with occasional exceptions), and I suggest that this furiously repetitive activity gives them a physical advantage. They store up more angular momentum, more "spoons", and therefore do not easily falter.

There are broader implications. The Hajj has recently concluded, a great yearly cycle that almost suggests that the very revolution of the Earth round the Sun has expressed itself through Islam. It's like bringing oneself into resonance with the cycles of the Solar System. Numerous other cyclical celebrations attuned to celestial objects come to mind. One can perhaps conjecture that participating in such festivals is an admirable source of angular momentum. The Sun and the planets are abundant in angular momentum.

~Chara of Pnictogen

Ah! I feel like I've got a more concise idea of what I've been trying to get at with clumsy writings about mathematics and politics and so forth. Reactionary ideologues and other persons who espouse beliefs that make no sense nevertheless believe they're logical. Their brains are doing their best with what they have, trying to connect everything together into some sort of mental framework. To them...it all makes sense. Why exactly do they feel like they're constructing faultless logical edifices?

Human brains are squishy, so whatever physical entities correspond to "thoughts" and "concepts"—I can vaguely imagine some fearfully complicated function of thousands or millions of different chemical gradients throughout overlapping regions of body and brain—are likely to have a sort of...analogue nature. You can whimsically imagine a puff of "thought molecules" spreading outwards through the tissues of the brain and the body, slowly dispersing, and while there are no particular "thought molecules" in the human brain, there are a moderately limited range of inorganic and organic substances, some uncharged, some electrically charged, which are specifically pertinent to thinking and neural function. Chemical gradients are rarely very steep, so the world of organic life and thinking is one of smoothly rising and falling curves, an analogue world.

And thus, I think the reactionary ideologues (and others) are deceived by their own bodies, in a sense. Their lives are dominated by phenomena that occur on biological timescales and with biological smoothness (or squishiness), phenomena that are in fact easily modeled with relatively simple mathematical operations. Astonishing complexity may emerge from the Navier-Stokes equation, for example, but the equation itself is straightforward and amenable to numerical analysis and computer modelling.

Hence I conjecture that they unconsciously apply that sense of mathematical simplicity onto everything. Their lives are always rising and falling according to simple mathematical laws; therefore the Universe must also be "mathematical" in the same way.

~Chara of Pnictogen

Everyone (I hope) knows these days that one of the biggest comedy celebrities of my childhood, America's favorite TV dad for a while, former standup comedy superstar Bill Cosby, is a gross sexual crook. I didn't take the news well because, growing up, I was a massive fan of Cosby's standup work. Both my sibling Frisk and myself scouted thrift shops to build up a library of comedy LPs and Cosby had some pride of place in that collection. Now, though, I ask myself why we didn't ask ourselves harder questions about some of his material, like his "Spanish Fly" sketch—where he's basically laughing about the idea of drugging women for sex—or the misogynist flavor of his depictions of marriage. Does he ever have a positive word to say about his wife?

All the same I haven't "cancelled" Bill Cosby and I still listen to some of his stuff on YouTube, for the same reason that his standup attracted my interest and Frisk's interest in the first place: he told funny stories about being an unhappy child. If you've seen Martin Scorsese's astonishing film The King of Comedy, you might remember how Rupert Pupkin's routine, the one that he's willing to commit crimes in order to get on television, is largely about how his dad's an abusive piece of shite. Pupkin's material is...middling, at best (it's not awful). Bill Cosby supplied the top-quality version of such comedy material, getting his audience roaring about his parents would beat him and his brothers, and how terrified they were of their father in particular.

Now, Frisk and I did not have a childhood THAT frightening, in comparison. All the same our household was unhappy and argumentative, so without really knowing that we were looking for it, we were drawn towards comedy like Bill Cosby's, humorous depictions of family misery. Where else could we find anything like it? We despised most situation comedies on TV because of the nauseating falsity of the families on display. Even Bill Cosby's TV family didn't seem that convincing—partly because we could recognize that he was going through some of his old standup material and making it mainstream-friendly, and that was no fun. Maybe child abuse would get the Very Special Episode treatment from a TV show. Only the standup comedy stuff seemed real, even if we knew it was comically exaggerated.

~Chara of Pnictogen