I’ve been reading this site on and off for a few years now. I don’t know much about the author, but I do know by now that:

  • He is active in lesswrong/the rational wiki, home of a bunch of weird people and Roko’s Basilisk.
  • He is into statistics and self-experimenting.
  • He seems like a very curious person. Representative of their general curiosity is their list of Open Questions.
  • His writing shows up in Hacker News often.

The site has several very long form studies, with good statistical analsys, on a wide variety of topics. The author has done self-studies on Dual N-Back (a technique that may improve working memory/IQ, although it sounds too good to be true) and nootropics (chemicals that may improve cognitive function).

About his gender: he volunteers a physical description as a ‘man’ in their Nootropics page, so I think it’s fine to talk of them as a man even if the name is regarded as a pseudonym in his Wikipedia entry — which apparently he wants to delete because of not being notable enough.

I think Gwern is interesting to me regardless of the quality of his writeups because he has interests that I would call similar to mine, and seems willing and able to go arbitrarily deep into any of them — whereas I’m more of a superficial and chaotic person. I wonder if the ability to go deep on topics is a personality trait, or just general intelligence. I feel like I’m more of a creative person usually (that’s how I’d like to describe myself), but perhaps a creative person is sometimes just someone that is not smart enough to discard bad ideas, or has enough drive and focus to research and find that they are not that original after all.


Disclaimer: this post may be a bit cringey because it’s about privilege and how I experience it. Talking about privilege is a tricky thing, and a bit uncomfortable for all parties involved — at least when they are self aware, and I try to be that. In general I try to recognize how privileged I am, which in most respects just means I’m lucky. I don’t buy into the biased capitalist story that makes privilege — or its proxy, success — a manifestation of willpower or specialness. Having said that, I apologize if I miss the mark and end up sounding out-of-touch, here and elsewhere.

Staying in hotels is really a pretty good way of life. But in many ways it’s also a terrible thing, because it means that yet another activity that is reserved only for those with spare money is great — and that’s pretty much a constant in capitalist society. Money is a way of making sure your experiences are as good as they can be, which is essentially what all living beings care about the most. Sometimes “as good as they can be” means “it’s unlikely something will eat or kill you tomorrow” and sometimes it means “you’re in a place where you’re relaxed and you can do pretty much what you want, and tomorrow things will revert to a known-good state — don’t worry about the bed or tidying up, that stuff just happens”.

Of course in reality that stuff doesn’t “just happen” — we all know it, but it’s easy not to think about it at times, in particular when you’re travelling and focusing on the great things around you. A maid, very often underpaid — in the sense not paid enough to be able to afford the same lifestyle you’re experiencing, perhaps ever — does it for you. This is again capitalist society at its purest. The maid provides a service that is very much at the core of the value that hotels give, and yet who gets most of the money you give to hotels? The company that owns the hotel, and not the maid; the owner of the real estate, which is in a way the means of production, and not the workers that are onsite — maids, clerks, sometimes waiters and cooks. What the hotel machine (the building, and the people that work in it) produces is the experience of being in a hotel.

Today we walked through Málaga with a friend, we drank coffee, we ate well. L. worked on a university task for a while. I took a nap. I thought I would write if I had the time, and now I’m doing it. It’s a pretty good way of life. I’d like everybody to be able to have it if they want it.

How to get there? A just society could get there by way of automation; even without perfect automation, if a (big) hotel could work with only very few human employees organizing the work of hundreds of robots, it would probably be a fairer arrangement for the people involved. But what would the maids and the clerks, or the people that would have ended up as maids and clerks, do? Many of the people that seem to oppose the idea of the universal basic income think that people would be bored with their free time, even if a dystopia in which people whose jobs have been automated away just starve is avoided. I like to think instead that such people would, in a sense, stop to exist in a different way; freed from the burden of poverty, most people would be willing and able to pursue other pursuits, and that those would further the quality of life of humankind further. What of the all the potential thinkers and creators that are current maids and clerks? Or the unemployed due to lack of skills that society both considers crucial and failed to give them through education?


We just left Barcelona.

My grandfather was originally from Barcelona; I believe that his family home was in the neighbourhood of Barceloneta. After the civil war he, my grandmother (from the Catalonian country) and their young child (my uncle) left Spain for good and moved to Argentina. This was a two week boat trip back then, as I understand it, and they never went back to Spain together. My grandfather did manage to go back exactly once to see his dying father, that time by plane, and that was it.

I loved visiting my grandparents’ flat when I was a kid. My grandfather was a reserved man, but kind and cultured (is that the proper word, I wonder — there’s probably a better one, one without the layer of pretense, more familiar, but I can’t think of it now). I loved going up to his library and thumbing through his books, some of which became my favourites even before I could read them.

On this train leaving Barcelona for Malaga I thought of an image that I got used to seeing in their home, and that now hangs in my mother’s home. It’s an image of Jesus holding a book that says “Ego Sum Lux Mundi” (I am the light of the world) in Romanic style. It’s pretty well known as far as Romanic icons go — it’s got a name that slips my mind right now, but the internet connection right now is so poor I cannot really search for it in Google. It’s in the National Museum of Catalonia in Barcelona, which is just beautiful, and I saw it a few days ago; I always see it when I visit Barcelona.

My grandfather was, as far as I can tell, not a religious man. I wonder if the image could have belonged to my grandmother, but somehow it seems unlikely; she liked Catalan music and customs, but I don’t remember her having any other historic or cultural objects around. If it was his, I think, perhaps he liked it at least partly because it reminded him of Barcelona and its National Museum in Montjuic. The image comes from a church in the Catalonian countryside and was there until the early 20th century, but must have been in the museum already when my grandfather visited it.

In some ways I’m probably the way I am (a bit bookish, a bit reserved) because of how my grandfather was. Unfortunately my grandfather was, according to accounts I’ve gotten since he died, a bit of a male chauvinist. He thought women belonged at the side of a husband, and didn’t support my mother and her plans to continue her education even after they had supported my uncle’s. I like to think that he was this way because he was a product of the society he was raised in, and the education he got, and that he would have perhaps even become a different person if he were around now. But he died around in 1993, so I’ll never know.

A Chrome extension I want

I sometimes go on internet reading binges in which I branch out into what end up being hundreds of tabs. As I mentioned earlier, I have a sort of Wikipedia addiction, which doesn’t help.

I’d like to have a Chrome extension that lets me analyze my browsing history and get insights from it; perhaps even further suggested reading based on the most productive reading patterns detected.

As an example data point, I’ve just followed the following path in browsing, starting with a link to Wikipedia in Hacker News:

Kuleshow Effect -> Uncanny Valley -> Mirror Neuron -> Common Coding Theory

This is a representative example of a short but interesting (to me) reading session; exposing other similar reading flows to me would be useful. I guess my writing about this flow here is a very basic, relatively low tech version of sharing this flow with the world; it would be interesting if millions of people would voluntarily do this, in a lower effort kind of way (like installing an extension and whitelisting some sites that one reads through thoroughly). Google, Microsoft and Mozilla probably have a good chunk of this information already through their browsers (not sure, I don’t know what their default settings all are), but as far as I can tell it doesn’t get exposed to the world except through things like Google’s ranking algorithm and search autosuggest.

Anyway, I searched for an extension with this functionality for a while and I think Brancher may be pretty close to what I want. I’m unsure about their privacy policy, though — the site mentions that they show all flows in their “trending” section by default, which is a bit worrying to me; I’d be much more comfortable with whitelisting, say, and whatever comes out of visiting a link in I will probably update this post with more information after giving it a try.

Edit (2019-01-12): I’ve removed Brancher. The implementation seems solid, and I liked their tree-based visualizations, but it felt a bit too creepy for my taste. It seems as if initially it defaulted to “all private” mode, in which every browsing “tree” and every bit of browsing information was kept private by default — makes sense to me. But recently they’ve changed their settings so even in private mode your browsing shows up in a “trending” section. They say that all Personally Identifiable Information is removed from your browsing before they do so, but they don’t say how they do this as far as I can tell, or even exactly what it means (what do they consider PII?). Companies have a history of leaking confidential information even after being anonymized, even bigger companies such as Netflix2, so I’m not ready to trust a random company with this data. My ideal extension would probably be something like Brancher but with a 100% offline mode.


This blog is built with Nikola, a Python-based static blog/site generator in the spirit of the more well known Ruby-based Jekyll. It’s my first time using it ever, and my first time setting up any kind of internet facing website for some time. I’m liking it so far — it doesn’t get in the way much, and I can tailor the writing experience as much as I’d like. This is what the overall setup I ended up with looks like:

Setting up Nikola

Pretty straightforward:

$ pip3 install nikola
$ mkdir blog
$ cd blog
$ nikola init

nikola init asked a few questions about the blog (address, title, etc.). It also offered the option to set up a comment system and I chose disqus, although I expect I won’t be getting much in the way of comments anytime soon.

After this, you’ll get a blog root with the following interesting files:

  •, where all the blog configuration lives. You’ll need to change this to switch themes, etc.
  • posts/, a directory where each file will result in a published post (unless marked as a draft). Posts can be written in reStructuredText (which is the default) or a variety of formats. I use Markdown.
  • pages/, a directory where each file will result in a one-off page in the resulting site. Pages need to be added to a map in too.

Writing posts and keeping the blog updated

You can create a post by running nikola new_post in the blog root. But you can also just create a new .md or .rst file in the posts/ directory, as per the above.

After each change, the blog must be rebuilt with nikola build. This updates the static version in output/. Then, changes may be deployed to the configured web root (specified in, same as as everything) with nikola deploy.

I’m lazy so I ended up writing a wrapper that just rebuilds and redeploys the whole thing when something changes:

cd /home/$USER/blog
when-changed pages posts -c 'nikola build && nikola deploy'

when-changed is a Python util based on inotify, installable with pip3 install when-changed.

I then added the resulting script as a service to systemd to make sure it’s always running in the background.

Serving the static pages

As mentioned above, nikola deploy deploys the static content to the web root (/var/www/blog), which nginx then dutifully serves in

This blog is HTTPS only, so I set up a redirect for port 80 in nginx. I’m using letsencrypt for the HTTPS certificate.

That’s it, nothing fancy here.

Ancillary stuff

  • I use git for versioning posts and the blog scaffolding required by Nikola. I push it to a private gitlab repository from time to time as a way of backing up and being able to also write posts easily when I don’t have an internet connection.
  • I use vim for writing posts. It’s old school, but I’m still the happiest writing in vim — and in particular editing in vim. For some reason I really enjoy using vim and I otherwise don’t use it for writing nowadays, as most of my writing at work is based on Google Docs. Being able to base my writing experience on vim was the main driver towards going the full geek approach instead of using something like Wordpress or even Medium.
  • I wrote a sort of throwaway parser in Python to port my previous private diaries/idea dumps from a set of loosely structured monolithic Google docs to individual Markdown posts. I need to translate, edit and censor them, though, which is going to be the bulk of the work if I ever go that way (I’m still partially unsure about the kind of things I would like to write about here), so writing this script may have been yet another exercise in procrastination in a sense. At least it was fun.

All this is running in a $10/mo. micro dedicated server. Seems to work well enough.


L. has a university schoolmate/fellow student that beatboxes as if it is equivalent to whistling. He’ll beatbox down the hall, or in public spaces.

I think this would probably make a pretty decent Curb Your Enthusiasm or Seinfeld episode. It’s not like there’s anything wrong with it — I mean, well, it is a bit disruptive and distracting, but it’s only more so than whistling by convention, so I think I see how someone could end up thinking it’s borderline OK to do it in public like this. But it is borderline, so it’s in a somewhat interesting space to discuss or consider.

I Googled “is beatboxing in public acceptable” and Google didn’t return a good hit. Perhaps it’s even weirder than I think it is, and people that beatbox in public don’t come up very often in the wider world. Or perhaps everybody is beatboxing all the time, and it’s so common I shouldn’t find it weird, but I’m unaware of it altogether because of not being that young anymore — so people don’t do it around me.


We arrived in Bologna 3h later than originally planned due to a mix up when changing trains in Milano, so we couldn’t see it in daylight for as long as we’d liked — we had to leave early the next morning to go to Rimini to visit a friend. It still managed to leave several impressions in us, even with very little time available to sightsee.

First, how we got there so late: it turns out that there are two different trains headed to Bologna that leave Milano at 13:20; a fast (1h) and expensive one, and a slow (2h50m) and cheap one. We had tickets for the fast one, yet somehow managed to get on the slow one. Takeaway: always check the train code on Trenitalia displays instead of jumping on what seems to be the right train to your destination. I guess this explains why every Italian train station always seems to have 100+ people staring at the boards expectantly and carefully. There’s also the fact that they only really show you the right platform for your train a few minutes in advance. All in all, several factors came into play to cause confusion and we ended up stuck in a very slow and very packed train for a few hours. It turned out alright in the end — at least we were going in the right direction, and there was no ticket check. I was unsure if our ticket was going to be considered valid by the inspector; it was for a different train, but for a more expensive one to the same destination, so it was relatively open for interpretation.

An aside here — in retrospect, I was pretty vocal in the train about how I felt like a dork taking the slow train instead of the fast train we had tickets to. I usually communicate quite freely in Spanish with L., as it’s not that transparent to German speakers usually, and try not to be too loud or anything. But later on I felt a bit bad about my public complaints, as Italian speakers around us may have gotten the gist of what I was saying; and after the 2h50m of pretty uncomfortable travel it became apparent that a significant fraction of the passengers had taken the train all the way to Bologna, probably because it was cheaper than the faster ride we had bought. So I got to feel socially clueless on top of awkward and privileged.

We walked a bit around Bologna in the evening; it was two degrees and foggy, which to me after a while feels colder than five below because of the humidity. Our noses were runny and I was very hungry, but we got to see a few of the towers that Bologna is renowned for (full disclosure: I knew very little about Bologna before visiting, aside from the fact that it has a very old university) and also one of the weirdest churches I’ve seen: San Petronio.

San Petronio is like two churches in one. You can tell right away something is amiss as you get to its square (Piazza Maggiore) and see its facade: the bottom half is posh marble, like most of the big Italian basilicas (think the Duomo in Milan) and the top half is a rather shabby looking brick, more the look that you’d expect in a country church from the Middle Ages. And, as it turns out, this is because they basically just ran out of money when building it. This happened to many churches, but this one never really recovered — it’s unclear at this point to me if they are still trying to finish it or they’ve just given up. In any case, I think it adds to its charm — its interior has the same kind of dissonance built in, as it’s just huge and it looks even bigger by virtue of being pretty much empty. It doesn’t really even have a pew (second disclosure: I had no idea how “church benches” were actually called until I googled it a minute ago), just a bunch of wooden chairs with woven straw seats.

I’m not a huge fan of the concept of churches overall, at least not in modernity, so in a weird way a part of me likes it more just because it wasn’t finished; I’d like to think someone, sometime, used their money for something better than building yet another church. It would be nice if, for once, that someone didn’t just buy another huge brick of gold with the head of the pope stamped on it or something. Although, on further reading on the subject, it turns out the popes may have plotted against it being completed (as it was designed to dwarf St Peter’s), so perhaps the Bolognese nobles were more likely to go with something else for stamping on their gold bricks even if they were not into using their money for the greater good.

Anyway, we thought it was special.


I think I have a Wikipedia addiction.

Ever since I was a kid I loved picking up encyclopedias and just browsing, but Wikipedia has allowed me to take this to a whole new level. I’ve always been a curious person, and I’ve always sort of had lots of interests without seeming able or willing to go deep into them. Idle browsing of Wikipedia kind of suits me perfectly.

I wonder to what extent this has been counter-productive; it’s so much easier to read the article in Wikipedia on some subject instead of going deeper (and, say, studying the subject with some degree of seriousness). Ideally reading the Wikipedia article would be the first step towards more reading on the subject, and I guess sometimes it is. But it seems like perhaps I’ve missed out on learning more about some subjects just because reading the Wikipedia article gives me such a “kick”.

In any case, I enjoy knowing random bits of information about many subjects, so it’s not all bad. I may just try to keep written down notes on topics that I find interesting so I can go deeper into topics that I go back to more often.