David Eagleman suggests an idea in his book Incognito that sounds like NLP redux: "mere exposure to an idea is enough to boost its believability upon later contact." NLP proponents would heartily agree with Eagleman. 

Say it over and over and over and over, and hey presto! you've reprogrammed reality. 

Say it ain't so, you say?

Well, Bandler and Grinder's hippy-happy NLP (Neuro-Linguistic Programming) has been debunked as pseudo-science by the scientific community. NLP doesn't match up with empirical data, according to the real scientists.

They--the real scientists--have said it so often that they've come to believe that what they've been saying is true. it is reality.

Of course, this is the scientific community that's recently found another one of its cherished realities in somewhat of a predicament. Some of the guys who make a living out of telescope gazing mapped out an astounding fact: an insanely large LQG (Large Quasar Group) in the universe. It's a galaxy cluster so big that it's bigger than the universe it's spiraling in. Sort of.

The point being, the newly discovered LQG is so big that it refutes Enstein's Cosmological principle. But wait, shouldn't this reduce the Cosmological Principle to the status of pseudo-science?

Professor: Let me begin my introductory lectures on peculiarities of peudso-science with a case study of Einstein's Cosmological Principle and also Neuro-Linguistic Programming. If you believed it, let me tell you: Einstein's cosmological principle is just so much NLP.

As Eagleman reminds us, "you're likely to believe that a statement is true if you have heard it before--whether or not it is actually true."

And haven't we all believed in the statement E=MC2, smirks the professor.

But that's not the worst possible mantra one might repeat over and over and over and over to create a truth that appears self-evident.

No, there's much worse. There are Religious edicts. There are political slogans.

change we can believe in change we can believe in change we can believe in change we can

thou shalt not covet thy neighbor's wife thou shalt not covet thy neighbor's wife thou shalt not covet

Repetition leads to belief leads to truth value. It's so ridiculously easy to program the human mind! 

Only it isn't. There is always resistance. And that's the intriguing part. You can repeat your slogan and edict all you want, but I'm still not going to believe in any change to my coveting my neighbor's wife. Or his ox or his ass.  (Exodus 20:17)

It's not just me coveting my neighbor's wife. Be honest, you're probably up to your ears in coveting if not oxes then definitely asses! 

The point being, saying IT IS SO does NOT make it so for everyone concerned. 

Let's take an outlandishly imaginary situation: a group of people being bombarded with the extremist messages by fanatics that call themselves the Caliban, in honor of their visionary bard Shakes-hammad. Their message is repeated over and over and over again--people the world with Calibans, people the world with Calibans, people the world with

The problem is, even on the little strip of reality that is the Caliban stronghold, there are those who won't or don't get converted to Calibanism. They resist. They refuse to believe the Caliban to be anything other than the purveyor of lies, of misrepresentation, of that which isn't true by any stretch of the imagination.

In such a case, couldn't we say the opposite of what Eagleman asserts: that you're more likely to believe a statement is false if you've heard it before, whether or not it is actually false?

It would seem reasonable to propose, then, that some brains are wired with "this must be true" circuits while others are wired with "this must be false."

To see whether you agree of disagree with that last statement, I want to you repeat it over and over and over and over... 

Reading an excerpt of Socrates' defense of himself and his cause, I was wondering about the claim he makes when he avers that his BFF Chaerephon was the one who consulted the Pythian prophetess about who was wiser than Socrates. The priestess's answer is famous and the raison d'etre for all of Socratic dialogue: there is no man wiser than Socrates.

A couple of things come to mind that makes me question Socrates veracity.

Consulting the oracle  in ancient Greece wasn't akin to accosting a traffic cop and asking for directions. Neither was it analogous to going to the DMV to have your license renewed, where one has to draw a ticket and wait for one's turn. 

In fact, consulting the Oracle was a long drawn out process for the supplicant. It involved a series of rituals that were probably designed to ensure that the supplicant had an inquiry that was worthy of the Oracle's oracular efforts. In other words, the oracle probably wouldn't be inclined to given you any answer if your question was steeped in the mundane: Will I get to work on time tomorrow? What is my favorite fruit? Who 's that guy selling hot dogs?

Getting to the oracle was a long an arduous journey. Once you got there, there was an entire committee of priestesses who would interview about your quest. This was a selective process. What's my favorite fruit would likely not make the cut. Neither would hey, who's that guy selling hot dogs? Once selected, you'd learn a bunch of rituals to ensure that you got to ask the question in a manner deemed fit for oracular response. Then you'd have to make sure you had come with gifts and offerings for the oracle. Even in ancient Delphi, there ain't no free lunch.

Finally, you'd get to meet the oracle and ask your question. And receive your answer in the form of some mumbo jumbo that made no sense and hence offered itself as a "riddle" to be solved.

Which brings me to the crux of what seems specious about Socrates' tale. If one were to believe him, his BFF (best friend forever) Chaerephon went to ask the oracle who was wiser than Socrates. First point of speciousness: does this sound like a question that would be deemed worthy of oracular attention? If one is to believe Socrates, his road to Socratic dialogue was launched by the Oracle's answer: No man is wiser than Socrates. If Socrates began his famous journey only after hearing the Oracle's response, then one may well assume that Socrates wasn't philosophizing in his quirky dialogues before his friend went to the Oracle. 

If this is true, then Socrates was a nobody when Chaerephon went to the Oracle.

So how then are we to believe that he made it through the screening process to ask his irrelevant question. Imagine the scene at the committee of assembled priestesses at Delphi:

Chaerophon: "What do I want to know? I want to know who's wiser than Socrates."

Committee: "Whos wiser than who?"

Chaerophon: "Socrates."

Committee: "Who's Socrates?"

Chaerophon: "He's my BFF. I think he's super smart."

Committe: "So you want to find out who's wiser than your best friend? This definitely sounds like a question worthy of the Oracle's time and attention. It's questions like these she lives for. Why, only yesterday, a guy came here wanting to know who's that guy selling hot dogs."

So Chaerophon goes in and asks and gets his answer: "No man is wiser than Socrates. Not even the dude selling hot dogs."

How is this a riddle? Unless the Oracle liked playing double reversal games, this statement is a straightforward answer to a very irrelevant question in the oracular realm.

(Oracle: What'll they ask me next: Who's fatter than my mother-in-law? This place used to have standards, I tell you.)

So Chaerephon supposedly returns from his journey to the Oracle and supplies Socrates with the Oracle's answer: that none is wiser than Socrates. 

Socrates thinks: If it's from the Oracle, it must be a riddle. 

Chaerophon thinks: I can't believe my BFF bought this cock-and-bull story about me seeing the oracle. 

Socrates thinks: Surely, there must be someone smarter than me.

Chaerophon thinks: He might be my BFF but the guy sure is gullible. He's seeing a riddle in my plain statement to make believe its oracular. Come on, man--even I'm wiser than this!

Socrates thinks: I must set out to uncover the meaning of the riddle by finding out who's wiser than me.

Chaerephone thinks: He's probably going to go out and do something crazy. I just hope he doesn't get himself killed...

Coming back to Socrates's trial, it remains curious that Chaerophon is no longer alive to testify to his ever having gone to the Oracle at Delphi. Socrates tells the Athenians that Chaerophon's brother can confirm the truth of Chaerophon's story.

Suddenly, this has begun to sound like a friend of a friend told me kind of story.

A conjecture here: Socrates realizes Chaerophon was leading him on, that he never consulted any oracle, that it was just a joke to point out to Socrates that he takes himself too seriously and that he really needs to get a handle on his egotistical self, and that a humorless Socrates indulged in some quick-fix homicide to keep at his quest to solve the riddle that was all along a friendly joke.

Requiescat in pace, Chaerophon.  

Okay. Avengers was kind of fun, right? Every superhero served a believable purpose working with each other, especially given that the climactic battle was against an endless storming down of moronic intergalactic warriors from some deep space wormhole.

Let's take a closer look at moronic. Those bad guys are so idiotically moronic in Avengers that my newborn would do a better job of storming in from a wormhole. (which is pretty much what he did in any case, but that's another story altogether). Why are they moronic? Why do the Avengers have Thor, Iron Man, the black widiow, Hulk, the arrow guy, and Captain America while the intergalactic invaders have mulch for brains? How exciting is that? 

Here's the brainstorming session in that Hollywood studio--"Hey, Let's have five superheroes armed with bazookas and M16s and what not take on a intergalactic stampede of cows.

I'm exaggerating the stupidity, you say. Okay. I amend my statement: Let's have five guys armed with bazookas and M16s and what not take on a stampede of REALLY PISSED OFF intergalactic cows. YES! Really pissed of cows--wait a minute!-- make them rain down in one spot from a hole in the sky!

Ooohh, money well spent watching that flick!

But the problem begins earlier, with whoever commissioned the script for Thor.

Scene: in Ass-Guard (what's with the homophobia?) the king takes his blond son and his non-blond kid (aka brunet) to see the spoils of victory and challenge both with becoming the next king.

POLL: will the blond kid or the brunet kid become king? (if you said the brunet kid, you're pretty much at the IQ level of one of those stampeding REALLY PISSED OFF intergalactic cows raining from the skies.)

Next scene, Thor is carrying the hammer, pledges allegiance as the next king, and then turns out to be LOWER, yes, lower than the stampeding cows in matters relating to IQ. Loki owns him. Loki manipulates him. Loki's got his number, his digits. Makes you wonder, what's Odin been smoking all along to see Thor as a worthy successor? Oh, wait, Thor is blond. Loki isn't. Loki's brunet, even though he has genetic lineage from some sort of ICE monsters. I guess his sister must be a brunette ice maiden or something).

The next moronic scene is when they ride across that bridge during the Ass-Guard sunset to meet the blind looking BLACK DUDE who's guarding whatever he FAILED to guard already. The Brunet Loki starts talking to him, but he's told to STFU. 

The Blond Thor mumbles something. They all pass by the Black Guard. Loki is speechless. What's Thor got that I don't? Hmm....

But coming back to a moment before they event get to the museum in Ass-guard, they cross a super long Ass Guard bridge. Are there no security cams in Ass-Guard? Which leads us to the following tongue twister: What Ass is Ass-Guard guarding if it's not guarding it's own ass? How do the two Princes of Ass-Guard get across the bridge wiithout anyone knowing, least of all the King?

How about that earlier scene when Thor challenges the Icey dude king with red eyes and deep bass voice (is that great characterization of a villain or what? total money's worth, original concept), Loki says something about caution. The Blond Thor replies, "know your place!" to Loki. "You ain't blond, LOW KEY! I may have the IQ of a pea, but I'm blond and I got the hammer!"

But the good news is that a truce is brokered, Loki agrees to it. But then the red eyed villain says to Thor,
"Go back home, Princess."

All hell breaks loose. Thor being called a princess? As in gay and not a he man warrior armed with an all powerful hammer? That's a sure fight in my Ass-guard neighborhood!  So Thor goes berserk.


Great future king they have in Ass Guard, one who loses all sense of restraint and judgment when he is called a princess out of pure provocation as the audience can clearly see.

And I care about Thor enough to watch the rest of the movie because?

Karma—everyone everywhere knows the word. India’s two biggest exports are Karma and Yoga. Is it ironic or expected that India makes no monetary gain from its two biggest exports? Anyway, Karma has been around in Western consciousness since the heydays of the Beatles. Everyone knows the word, everyone uses it, but what does it really mean?

1) What goes around comes around?

2) What you do unto others will be done unto you?

3) Be careful or this might come back to bite you in the ass?

4) Shit happens?

5) etc.

These are part of the Karmic scheme of being. But there are some fundamentals about Karma that most people don’t realize when they toss the word around.

The word Karma comes from Sanskrit , Hindu philosophy and a Hindu conception of the universe. This universe is one without beginning and without end. This is also a universe inhabited by one vast, interconnected consciousness that also has no beginning and no end. The kar in karma quite simply means “to do” or “to act.”

Here’s a couple of parables that illustrate Karma:

1) You’re in a tiny boat is a vast ocean. You have a paddle. The ocean’s currents are taking you somewhere, and you don’t have to do much to get there. But you can choose to paddle and work hard to steer yourself in any direction you want to any destination you want.

2) You’re an archer about to launch your arrow. The arrow is strung on your bow, ready for release. There is a quiver full of arrows on your back. There is also one arrow flying through the air right now that you launched moments ago.

The ocean is your karma in the first parable. You’re afloat on the sum of your past actions. Your present is always taking you somewhere. But you always have the choice to take your life in a different direction.

The arrows are your karma in the second parable. The quiver of arrows is the sum of your past actions. You’ve already launched one arrow, and it’s going to affect your future –you can’t pull it back. But there’s the arrow you’re about to launch. Once again, you have the choice to launch it in a different direction at a different time.

Karma is where you’re coming from, what you’re doing, and what direction you’re going.

Karma means you’re always in charge.