broken mirror

A shattered mirror

Most of our thinking happens intuitively. Intuition works fast so it is sometimes called fast thinking.1 We are not aware of this so you can barely call it thinking. Only when our intuition runs into trouble reason is called into action. Reason is called slow thinking. If you can get away with the judgements coming from your intuition there is no reason to think things through. Evolution made this happen. It is easy to understand why. Humans who took the time to consider all the options when a pride of lions was coming into their direction didn’t survive and procreate so that their genes died out.

Great chess players don’t consider all the options either. Based on past training and experience their intuition presents a few options to the conscious thinking process called reason. Billions of other options are ignored, nearly all of them not worth considering. That’s what makes a great chess player a great chess player. The brain has limited processing capabilities. Clogging it with countless useless options would downgrade its performance.

Computers don’t have an intuition but they have become fast enough to consider so many options, including a lot of useless ones, that they are able to find better moves that chess players can’t think of because their intuition limits them. Nowadays computers beat even the best chess players. But what if intuition fails you more often than happens to most people? In that case you might consider options other people don’t think of. Others may call you crazy or insane. Indeed, most of the options you consider are not worth considering, but you don’t know that until you have found it out yourself. If that applies to you then you may be autistic. If the condition is sufficiently mild you can still lead a normal life, but you need a major amount of reasoning and experimentation to achieve just that.

Let’s explain this using an example. Yuor brian autmotaically corercts speillng erorrs. Probably you were able read the previous sentence without any effort. Otherwise you have to solve the puzzle by trying out different words to see if they make sense. In that case you might find meanings that weren’t intended. If you must figure out social rules in a similar way, for example by trying courses of action and evaluating responses of other people, you’re in for a lot of trouble. Most people make sense of the world intuitively, but if you are autistic, reality appears to you like a 10,000 pieces jig saw puzzle or a shattered mirror. You must fit the pieces together. That takes a lot of time and effort and the pieces never fit perfectly. What you get is something similar to what other people think of as reality.

Autism nevertheless survived the evolutionary rat race called survival of the fittest. How could this happen? There is a possible explanation. Who can find the answers when intuition fails everyone, for example during a crisis? These situations require trying out ideas other people don’t think of, and quite possibly ignorance with regard to social conventions to pursue these ideas. Perhaps you think of autists as weirdos cracking riddles nobody else can. There is some truth to that image. Some pundits have claimed that Newton and Einstein were autistic. They may have appeared to be geniuses just because they tried options other people didn’t think of. In this way they discovered things other people couldn’t. Autists can keep working on their eccentric projects despite the constant rejection they receive. And some of their efforts turn out to be very useful.

1. Thinking, Fast and Slow. Daniel Kahneman (2011). Penguin Books.

Peter Sellers as Inspector Clouseau

Meeting Chief Inspector Jacques Clouseau

Despite his bumbling and clumsy appearance, Chief Inspector Jacques Clouseau was always able to solve the mystery. Guided by a few hunches and some vague clues that only made sense in his mind, he always ignored the most obvious explanation of the facts. How can a clown like him be correct all the time while the competent fail? The answer is that Jacques Clouseau is a fictional character in a story. The plot was always the same: Jacques Clouseau is right in the end.

The licence plate number on Franz Ferdinand’s car features a reference to 11 November 1918, the end date of World War I. The war comprised of billions of actions of millions of individuals. To make it end on this date requires complete control of every thought and every move of every actor. The world we live in could be fiction. Hence, I may be right about the nature of this universe, the identity of God as well as the future direction of society and the economy, while the greatest minds on Earth can do no better than firing a shot in the dark.

It was the autumn of 1989. My life had just gone off the rails. I had been evicted from a students dormitory for not fitting in the group, which more or less came down to not getting along with a particular lady. I made her cry, or perhaps she cried to make me feel so miserable so that I would leave. And this I did. Henceforth I committed myself to leading an insignificant life so that I would disturb no-one, something even a complete failure like me should be capable to do. But perhaps I grossly underestimated the enormity of the failure as even this modest goal may well be out of reach.

I moved back to my parents’ home to gather some courage to try another dormitory. In the years that followed came the peculiar coincidences suggesting that my business with this particular lady from the dormitory had not finished yet. Some of these incidents were quite disturbing. They were to few in number to make me suspicious, but they were too curious to remain unnoticed.

Back then in the autumn of 1989 there wasn’t much to laugh for me, except for a few episodes of Chief Inspector Jacques Clouseau that were aired on German television. My parents lived near the German border so I could see them.

In 2008 it became clear that my business with this lady wasn’t finished yet. In the years that followed I bumbled through the investigation with some vague clues that only made sense in my mind. And that resulted in this plan for the future. If I am right, or when people are going to believe that this might be the case, it would be the result of an array of accidents and failures, or perhaps the plot of the story, but certainly not my genius.

Featured image: Peter Sellers as Inspector Clouseau [copyright info]

Wake up call

It was the autumn of 2008. Every time I woke up at night and looked at the clock, it showed times like 2:22, 3:33, 4:44 or 5:55. Then, out of the blue, my wife told me that she too was waking up at night and seeing those same time prompts again and again. I had just discovered a solution for the financial crisis, Natural Money, and found out that it could improve the economy and become the money of the future. This lasted for about a month. Then the peculiar time prompts were gone.

On the internet you can find stories of people being nagged by time prompts, most often 11:11. And so this thing is called 11 phenomenon or 11:11 phenomenon. You can type 11:11 into the Google search bar and see for yourself. World War I ended on 11 November or 11-11. A reference to this date was found on the licence plate of the car in which Archduke Franz Ferdinand was killed. The assassination of Franz Ferdinand triggered World War I. So what could this mean?

Our minds trick us in different ways. One of them is selective remembrance. Maybe you have experienced a few strange coincidences. These incidents stick to your memory. On the other hand, you won’t remember thousands of mundane events that also happened because there was nothing special about them. Hence your memory might record your life as a sequence of peculiar events, bizarre coincidences and strange accidents.

Nearly every day I see some number and then, within a second or so, I see the same number again somewhere else, often on licence plates. But when I watch out for recurring numbers I don’t see them very often. Possibly recurring numbers trigger my brain. Recording them then becomes a conscious process so that for every special combination, hundreds of other numbers remain unnoticed.

tin foil hat

Yet the idea of selective remembrance ran into trouble as soon as I tried to apply it on the waking up at night and seeing those time prompts. There were hardly any exceptions if there were any at all. To add insult to injury, Ingrid had the same experience, and at the same time. It wasn’t just my mind tricking me. This wasn’t selective remembrance. Something made me wake up and look at the clock at these specific times. This seemed a kind of mind control.

It makes sense. If the license plate number on the car in which Franz Ferdinand was killed wasn’t a mere coincidence then everyone’s mind could be controlled. World War I consisted of countless actions of countless individuals. To make the war end on 11 November 1918 could imply complete control over every mind and every action. And so we might be living inside a simulation running a script.

On the Internet you find explanations about 11:11 being a sign of angels giving you a message. I don’t believe that. If it is not selective remembrance, which it might be in many cases, then it probably is mind control. There had been peculiar coincidences in my life from time to time. Some of them pointed to a certain lady I once met. It soon turned out that my business with her was not finished yet.

Featured image: 11:11 time prompt.

Other image: Tin foil hat. Morton Devonshire (2007). Wikipedia.