I take for granted, the world exists, therefore it is.<p>You may call it Borrible's first tautology.
Or perhaps bias.
Yes, Borrible' bias sounds clever. At least to me.
And that is what counts, doesn't it?<p>I don't really know what that fucking world really is, but nonetheless it exists.<p>With temporarily stable local dynamics, some parts of the world began to copy themselves.
Albeit with errors and quirks.
The recurring processes of the surrounding builded the mold for the debris that collects in the swirls.<p>Some of those copies developed representations of their surroundings.
First in form of simple notes sticking on themselves, being themselves.
Which was an advantage, when they bumped into another.
They could navigate that thing I called world.
Which made their copy process stable.<p>With a lot of time and try and error, some parts of those parts of parts of that thing I called world even developed some really fancy little dollhouse worlds in this part of the world that will later call itself the brain.<p>And the most advanced ham actors in that dollhouse put more tiny little dolls in that house, the most precious one, ego.
It represented that part of the world that started the whole shebang, the body.
And it equipped that tiny little dollhouse with a lot of woundrous and a lot of silly things, some animated , some not.
And it took great delight in it, it even fancied itself a god and pushed the tiny little ego around doing his biddings.<p>But for the most part it just tried to please itself and learn about the world and itself, based on all that input it got somehow from the world.
And the drama that ham actor and his Muppet Friends acted.<p>Exactly like all those good little boys and girls do on their playgrounds since time immemorable.<p>When I was young, something happend.
My dolls started to become 'Little Computer People'.<p>And people my generation and that before developed fancy models about this Matrioshka Doll World, about Worlds in Worlds in World in Worlds.
Infinite regress, sometimes recursive, sometimes not.
A calaidoscopic mirror, sometimes dark, sometimes shiny.<p>Simulacron 1, 2, 3 and so on until there is no energetic process in that thing I call world, that can be harvested.<p>And every time those models became more complex, they gave more agency to that part of the world that is now mumbling about building a new Ghost in the Machine.<p>Apart from the possibly insurmountable practical problems, I see no reason in principle why it should become more complex in the form of artificial intelligence.<p>As an aside, it's great to be that part of the world, but beware.
It may all end the moment that ham actor in that dollhouse cuts the strings to that world he is living of.<p>A risk deeply embedded in this structure.
Of an agent acting in a model of the world.<p>The agent is subject to the risk of his striving to make himself independent of the world.