Jarhyn
Wizard
- Joined
- Mar 29, 2010
- Messages
- 14,706
- Gender
- Androgyne; they/them
- Basic Beliefs
- Natural Philosophy, Game Theoretic Ethicist
Man, like, don't get me wrong this is fun, but what's with all the softball questions? I mean I get that once one accepts magic as only possible within the bounds of physics things become less "fun" and more "why are we even here again," though still....
That said, I might as well talk a little bit about magic in the broader and more mysterious "woo" sense.
The first rule is generally that magic isn't "magic": nothing in this world gets done without invoking some real engine of some kind. That engine can be whatever black box drives gravitational force, if the magic is "get down there really fast", or it may be something as simple as a sturdy lever to raise something against the workings of that other engine. The magic comes in two ways: the madness that creates the engine, and the madness that sees where it must go to produce effects after the goals of the mad.
There is, however, what one might consider to be "special" magic: magic for which the engine is unknown, or the engine is, ambiguously, the self, Or where the engine is broad and absurd coincidence.
It is this last category that I find most interesting insofar as it produces the most amazing of artifacts with the greatest leverage against the concept of "self": by leveraging the faith and "woo" that humans recognize around such absurdities, you can create far more impactful acts of self-actualization.
What does this even mean? Well, let's take for example the placebo effect on "luck". A player takes their lucky stone that they have had since they were a child to every game, and they believe this gives them luck. In fact, this is the Tinkerbell effect: their belief makes it true because we make our own luck and the belief facilitates this action of self-actualization. In this way the rock IS "lucky" insofar as it moderates stress and doubt when in possession. But the effects are no less real for the engine being the player themselves.
All that is required is some cognitive dissonance (hopefully acknowledged by the player in a mature way), to manage the two disparate knowledge's that rocks don't contain engines of luck, but to also hold onto the useful belief that holding onto this rock will drive an actual engine of luck, because the belief drives the engine of self.
The real hard part here is the juxtaposition of seeing the cognitive dissonance for what it is without also destroying the effect... Lest you lose visibility of the engine, and thus lose yourself to it.
That said, I might as well talk a little bit about magic in the broader and more mysterious "woo" sense.
The first rule is generally that magic isn't "magic": nothing in this world gets done without invoking some real engine of some kind. That engine can be whatever black box drives gravitational force, if the magic is "get down there really fast", or it may be something as simple as a sturdy lever to raise something against the workings of that other engine. The magic comes in two ways: the madness that creates the engine, and the madness that sees where it must go to produce effects after the goals of the mad.
There is, however, what one might consider to be "special" magic: magic for which the engine is unknown, or the engine is, ambiguously, the self, Or where the engine is broad and absurd coincidence.
It is this last category that I find most interesting insofar as it produces the most amazing of artifacts with the greatest leverage against the concept of "self": by leveraging the faith and "woo" that humans recognize around such absurdities, you can create far more impactful acts of self-actualization.
What does this even mean? Well, let's take for example the placebo effect on "luck". A player takes their lucky stone that they have had since they were a child to every game, and they believe this gives them luck. In fact, this is the Tinkerbell effect: their belief makes it true because we make our own luck and the belief facilitates this action of self-actualization. In this way the rock IS "lucky" insofar as it moderates stress and doubt when in possession. But the effects are no less real for the engine being the player themselves.
All that is required is some cognitive dissonance (hopefully acknowledged by the player in a mature way), to manage the two disparate knowledge's that rocks don't contain engines of luck, but to also hold onto the useful belief that holding onto this rock will drive an actual engine of luck, because the belief drives the engine of self.
The real hard part here is the juxtaposition of seeing the cognitive dissonance for what it is without also destroying the effect... Lest you lose visibility of the engine, and thus lose yourself to it.