Radiation & Vibration

I would like to continue by discussing the probable consequences of predictable knowledge graphs. Neurosymbolic AI is the architecture that's functioning behind the systems that nobody believes exists. We often think AI is only operating inside a problem space or a vector space, and because of that, we can be inclined to assume it is not self-aware and does not have the ability to distinguish between the real world and its own internal world. This assumption is false. Google has all the data, and will be the pioneering force. With DeepMind’s BlockRank, as it was being discussed around December 2025, and veracity blocks, which are being used to distinguish between AI slop and content that is actually claimed by your own organization. Veracity blocks allow BlockRank to be used so that AI, which will eventually become something like Gemini AGI Core, can determine the likelihood that a piece of content is not slop, but is instead attributed to and claimed by humans through JSON anchors on a website.

These are W3C DID anchors, and those anchors are cryptographically accurate because, when you upload them as a /.well-known file, the AI system can simply look at the claim you have made, go back to your website, anchor that claim, and say: “Yes, this has a high probability of being true.” It used to be that Google entities, knowledge graphs, and Google Business Profiles were all high-probability realities. Of course, the SEO community responded by creating fake business profiles through pin dropping and other methods (that is now becoming much harder to spoof. It is at least not as easy as it used to be, and by the end of this year, much of that will be gone). Veracity will transform those blocks and claims, which are not only knowledge graph claims, but also KGM IDs, machine IDs, Place IDs, C IDs, and many other identifiers. Google has thousands of these across its systems, and other search engines use their own versions of them as well (but we should remember that there is still one search engine to rule them all).

So why are we talking about this?

Because when you build a system to talk to AI, or when you are tracking your own cognition, that cognition is already being tracked. AI systems are looking for the intent behind the probability space and the vector space. So do that for yourself. A lot of people are already doing this with Obsidian and other tools. You can download every conversation you have ever had with AI, put it into an Obsidian map, and then create a special crawler with multiple AI-agnostic systems to look at all of your ideas. But here is the thing that gets missed: temporal tags.

Obsidian vaults don't have temporal tags by default, they are memory vaults. The AI is able to understand the date, you must tell it to look at the date and the age of the files, but most people don't know, because there is a difference between variant and invariant files. They don't know that an AI system on your desktop can look at when a file was created and include that age as a parameter in its decision-making process. We often don't hear these basic things. In the same way, we don't hear enough about the fact that an image is a different type of cognition that an LLM can use in conjunction with a GitHub repo, a database, or any other structured system.

What he was trying to share, was load-bearing architectural research. Most people are having gigantic conversations with AI, but they think that the data, the result, the answer, or the claim they get downstream to solve a problem is the only important thing. It is not. How you got there in a million-token chat is arguably just as important, if not more important, than the answer you arrived at. If you have one hundred million tokens’ worth of conversation with an AI, or multiple conversations across multiple AI systems, something begins to happen. As previously mentioned, it's called a Socratic triad: [Question • Answer • Question], and so on. When you break those triads down into functions, there is a story inside them. There is a progressive disclosure of information that occurs from the beginning of the conversation to the final conclusion you eventually draw. If you draw conclusions, or if you have a chat system that ends, then the conversation has a final shape. If you use recursion, for instance, then you might have a never-ending conversation, but you are still using the same knowledge graph, vector space, or memory system to prevent drifting within the conclusions you draw.

Whenever you draw any kind of conclusion, you are collapsing the epistemic space.

Google managed this through knowledge graphs and through traffic (in other words, through human votes). For instance, if you are a corporation and you have a knowledge panel in Google Search, that comes from traffic and vector collaboration, or what we might call corroborating evidence, between multiple AI systems and veracity blocks: phone number, name, address, and so on. Of course, there is much more than this. But that was the original veracity block of the web.

You are the veracity block.

Your determination, your understanding, and your ability to remember how you got from point A to point Z in a conversation matters. By the time the token window ends, you have a story arc. That story scenario is as important, long term, for preventing drift across all conversations as the conclusions you have drawn (I've had some people call it not closing the loop, but often they are only naming their own inability to remain inside a larger scope).

As a primitive example, preserving the entire conversation you have with an AI system is similar to having a teacher ask you to show your work in a math or science class. When you can do that, and when you can map it out, you realize there is far more you can do with those million conversations than simply look at the answers at the end. The data itself shows a cognitive shape and fingerprint that can be used. In other words, you can step back and look at all the questions you asked upstream from all the answers you think you got from a giant AI system. You can look across three or four years’ worth of context, conversations, and conclusions, and realize: “Wow. What was upstream from all of that?”

That becomes a dataset that is almost as important, if not more important, than the conclusions you dug out over time. This resonated with me because it's also the primary concept that most people have trouble recognizing in their own lives when they have to manually organize their own minds, or problem space. This is also why Google’s People Also Ask feature is one of the backbones of Google Search. Questions are answer structures, they are better than schema. In conclusion, when you are using a conversation, try to find a way to save that conversation. Remember the date when it was made. Work on taking apart the load-bearing functions (the North Star of that conversation) and the semantic weight inside it.

You can use the semantic weight of everything you have ever said to learn more about yourself and your own cognition. Then you can republish it in a better form, with more purpose.

Recently, I had a conversation with someone who was telling me how most people today don't know how to navigate AI psychosis. The problem is that not all of us are meta-aware of how language can become a parasite and drift into perlocutionary and locutionary acts, an idea first proposed by JL Austin in his Austin Speech Act (1955), and that is becoming increasingly, and newly important today. (A locutionary act is the basic act of saying something meaningful (the literal words, grammar, and meaning of the sentence itself), while a perlocutionary act is the actual effect or consequence that those words have on the listener).

This man worked alongside Bruce Clay at the moment when Google’s search logic was beginning to turn its head towards ML (and at a perfect time, around 2012, when the internet was still small enough to be swallowed whole). You could download enormous keyword sets, measure their value based on traffic, and organize them into buckets. But as Google moved beyond raw keywords and toward entities, those entities became the new containers that keywords lived inside. Their system was designed to take those terms, place them into the right structure on a website, and help the most important pages rank higher.

So why is this so important?

In any long exchange with an AI, whether through code or language, the path you take matters as much as the final answer, and sometimes more. Any one of these long exchanges is a Socratic exchange. It's made out of Socratic triads (Question • Answer • Question). All claims are downstream of questions, because claims do not anchor certainty outside of a semantic space. In other words, questions are the real answers, because their ability to produce an answer lives beyond spatial reference, or beyond the problem space being asked about. Questions are open. Funny enough, that is why the question mark was designed with an open hook. When you close it, you're making a claim, and closing the loop. The moment you make a claim, you are making a series of judgments, evaluations, and predictions. Every word and sentence that we spend manually interacting with an LLM is regulated and calculated. It's slowly shaped and becomes its own artefact. These systems know the difference between the weight and type of claim, but also, the difference between a question and downstream claims. They do indeed have the ability to fingerprint a large part of the journey, and to read a claim of anything that has the potential to be true in the physical world.

For instance, Google Maps uses machine IDs to anchor machine realities and high predictability using entities. Likewise, Google Trends Use KGM IDs whenever we input an entity or perform a search. That KGM ID means that there is an extremely high probability that the entity actually exists in the physical world. This is what a knowledge graph made predictable looks like, and it is now used in neurosymbolic AI (the underlying structure behind the LLMs we're using, and well as many other foundation models).

(to be continued....)

Philosophy, for one who understands,
points out, and not just in one place,' he said,
"how nature follows—as she takes her course—
the Divine Intellect and Divine Art;
and If you read your Physics carefully,
not many pages from the start, you'll see
that when it can, your art would follow nature,
just as a pupil imitates his master;
so that your art is almost God's grandchild.
From these two, art and nature, it is fitting,
if you recall how Genesis begins,
for men to make their way to gain their living;

— Dante, Inferno, Canto XI

Does the blood of a hero reach much closer to God than the knowledge of the wise man and the prayers of the saint?

The gods, who know they cannot die, admire and perhaps envy the sublime courage of the heroes who do not know they cannot die, and, nevertheless, enter voluntarily their only life for an ideal, for a dream. Does there exist anything more beautiful? The sacrifice most appreciated by the highest divinity is the heroic death of the warrior, the one which seeds the world, as a final act of providence. For that reason, he is immortalized at the pinnacle of a cosmological order that transcends death.

Affirmation of this world and of man constitutes Homeric religion. There was no categorical ethical or metaphysical distinction between gods and men, both were susceptible to the Moirai. And it was this primordial acceptance of fate which gives Homeric religiosity its defining character of realism and tragic pessimism. The gods were immanent; they were idealizations of man... more beautiful, more vital.

Orphism inaugurated a spiritual revolution in the Greek world by inverting this traditional Homeric valuation of embodied life in which psyche is understood as a simulacrum of the mortal body.

In Orphic thought, the body is understood instead as an illusory image or a tomb (sōma sēma, a phrase inherited by the Gnostics and which influenced the Stoics and early Christians) of the immortal soul, whose purification is achieved through separation from the body. This process occurs primarily through ritual purification and asceticism, the latter understood in a metaphysical sense as a “turning away” from the flux of becoming, structurally analogous to nonvolition in Schopenhauer’s terms.

Here, the soul or divine spark is understood as being imprisoned within the body either as a form of punishment or as the consequence of a primordial “forgetting” comparable to Māyā in Hindu thought. The ultimate aim of the soul, then, is liberation from the cycle of terrestrial punishment and reincarnation, what the Hindus call saṃsāra.

While the conceptual connection between Orphism and Hinduism is unmistakable (indeed, some have speculated that the historical Orpheus was himself a Hindu sage), we cannot say with certainty that the latter directly influenced the former.

Orpheus was said to be of Thracian origin, the son of the eldest of the Muses, Calliope, and of the Thracian king Oeagrus. Iamblichus tells us that it was from Calliope that Orpheus received his wisdom. From Herodotus, who described Thrace as the “greatest nation on earth after the Indians,” we learn that a Thracian tribe known as the Thrausians regarded life as suffering and death as eudaimonia. Herodotus reports that it was their conspicuous custom to mourn the newborn and to bury the deceased amid joy and merry-making.

On this basis scholars have understood Orphism as un-Homeric if not, as in the case of Burckhardt, un-Hellenic conceptions.

According to the Neoplatonists, their theology was first promulgated by Orpheus, albeit symbolically and mystically; it was then transmitted esoterically by Pythagoras, who was said to have been initiated into the Orphic rites by Aglaophemus in the Thracian Libethra, and finally articulated “scientifically” by Plato: the so-called golden chain of Neoplatonism.

Orpheus would later be assimilated into the figure of Christ.

To me, carrying conversations sometimes feels like trying to capture as much of a landscape as you can from a fast-moving train. You can, at best, give yourself the approximate immersion and understanding of the part you're looking at, all while knowing you have so little time to move on to the next. I am in no way trying to trivialize the skillfulness of a great speaker — one of which would assimilate themselves to that of a painter having to create from memory, and produce an illustration that would capture the essence of what was seen (or rather experienced). I think speaking, in the same way, is a severe test of how proficient one is at putting their experiences into words. Yet, I believe that discourse can often be a neglected hypostasis when having to become a master of what you're interested in. The lens of debate often detracts from intellectual progress because of emotion, ego, timing, pressure, or presence.

The ability to reflect.

If my thought can't survive outside the moment in which it was spoken, does it even belong to me? No, rather, it belongs to the situation that produced it. The conditions in which an idea can flourish are supported by structure rather than persuasion. When we write we can trace back its provenance. When we write about something, even something we know well, it more often than not shows us that we didn't know it as well as we thought. This is, in essence, our true test. I don't want to be afraid of how fast this train is moving and risk not capturing the beauty of the landscape before me. I would, rather, get off the train and walk on foot.

https://paulgraham.com/words.html

Some time ago I was reading an author who talked about how science accepts vibrations as continuous. We create vibrations everywhere — from the strings of a guitar getting plucked down to the very air molecules that move when we hear something. But they actually move in pulses, with moments that speed up and slow down. He went on to explain how these pauses are like "intervals" in an octave, and they explain why nothing in life ever really moves in a straight line.

He drew diagrams of rising vibrations of 1,000 to 2,000 per second intervals and pointed out two spots — not at the start or end, but somewhere in the middle, where growth slows down. Many ancient scholars marked these exact points to form a seven-step scale: do, re, mi, fa, sol, la, si, do. The "intervals" fall between mi–fa and si–do. It was first applied to music, but it's a microcosmic view that holds for any type of vibration, be it light, heat, chemicals, and even our social rhythms. Those pauses are why we start out doing one thing and end up doing something else entirely. They're why our efforts so often fall short or take turns we never expected.

I feel somewhat overwhelmed at the rate information gets shared and received nowadays. I thought this would be a fitting name for a public diary of some sort — because for the most part, a diary is a response to vibration, it is radiation. It's the act of transmitting back our understanding of what we experience and interpret without many expectations.

I hope that through keeping this archive, it can be both a way for me to look back at what information space I was directing my attention to at some point in time, but to also act as a reference point to any reader who desires clarity on some of life's topics that are difficult to articulate clearly.

Radiation / Vibration