I met a man claiming to be Satoshi Nakamoto outside a building I work at near the SF train station. He asked to talk to me. He was white, 50ish, with a 3 day beard that seemed trim. He was dressed in high quality, slightly worn Patagonia gear. He spoke in a quiet voice and didn’t appear obviously crazy after a brief talk with him. He said that he had worked with people in the building that I’m at, but was confused about the details. “You ever had amnesia?,” he said, not knowing who he was talking to. “It’s like that.” Having enjoyed our talk - he then asked if I would do him a favor and, “get the message out that I’m back in town —that’s all,” he said, “They’ll figure the rest out. “ “marshallmathersfoundation.com,” he added,“ they’ll need to know that. “ He’s wearing bright orange gaiters if interested. He’s probably going to be around for a while. He’s maybe nutty, but since he didn’t bring up Deuteronomy during our conversation, I’m giving him the benefit of a doubt. Later -
“…Some say it's just a part of it We've got to fulfill the book.” B. Marley Before I completely run away from the point, the subject of this essay is free will, or, more accurately, the illusion of free will. It will be interesting to see if free will even comes up laterally over the next few hundred words now that I’ve set it up as a specific goal. The imp of the perverse makes it a sure thing that I won’t – but that surety might also double back and force me to stay on point. There are no dogs to pick in this fight and it’s not a fight, and if I’m right, none of this is anything but documentation for a litigious god that will never see it. Like quantum mechanics, life is about either time or place, never both, and how we choose to pretty up our choices is neither the point, or even a choice – it’s after the fact punctuation we use to justify and make sense of our ontological messiness. (Science has proven that we decide things with our body before the brain