Xander77 posted:

Kinda busy at work + really stopped caring about this.

Anyone else is welcome to pick up.

Eliezer Yudkowsky posted:

Harry had checked the books, had learned that since he was too young to have sexual thoughts he would be able to approach a unicorn without fear. The same books had said nothing about unicorns being smart. Harry had already noticed that every intelligent magical species was at least partially humanoid, from merfolk to centaurs to giants, from elves to goblins to veela. All had essentially humanlike emotions, many were known to interbreed with humans. Harry had already reasoned out that magic didn't create new intelligence but just changed the shape of genetically human beings. Unicorns were equinoid, were not even partially humanoid, didn't talk, used no tools, they were almost certainly just magical horses. If it was right to eat a cow to feed yourself for a day, then it had to be right to drink a unicorn's blood in order to stave off death for weeks. You couldn't have it both ways.

So Harry had gone into the Forbidden Forest wearing his Cloak. He had searched the Grove of Unicorns until he saw her, a proud creature with a pure white coat and violet hair, with three blue blotches on her flank. Harry had gone over, and the sapphire eyes had stared at him inquisitively. Harry had tapped out the sequence 1-2-3 on the ground several times with his shoes. The unicorn had shown no sign of responding in kind. Harry had reached over, taken her hoof in his hand, and tapped the same sequence with the unicorn's hoof. The unicorn had only looked at him curiously.

And something about feeding the unicorn the sleeping-potion-laced sugar cubes had still felt like murder.

That magic gives their existence a weight of meaning which no mere animal could possess... to slay something innocent to save oneself, that is a very grave sin. Those two phrases, from Professor McGonagall, from the centaur, had both run through Harry's mind, over and over as the white unicorn had yawned, laid down on the ground, and closed its eyes for what would be the last time. The Transfiguration had lasted an hour, and Harry's eyes had watered repeatedly as he worked. The unicorn's death might not have come then, but it would come soon enough, and it was foreign to Harry's nature to try to refuse responsibility of any kind. Harry would just have to hope that, if you didn't kill the unicorn to save yourself, if you did it to help a friend, it would be acceptable in the end.

Eliezer Yudkowsky posted:

"Tear a piece of your soul? That is a lie; A misdirection to hide the true secret. The required murder is not a ritual sacrifice at all. Sudden death sometimes creates a ghost if the magic bursts and imprints on a nearby thing. The horcrux spell channels that death-burst through the caster, creating their own ghost instead of the victim's, and imprints that ghost onto a special device. A second victim then picks up the horcrux device, which imprints your memories onto them. But only the memories from the time the horcrux device was made."

Eliezer Yudkowsky posted:

"There is a limitation to the Killing Curse. To cast it once in a fight you must hate enough to want the other dead. To cast it twice you must hate enough to kill twice; to cut their throat with your own hands and watch them die, then do it again. Very few can hate enough to kill someone five times. They would get bored." The Defense Professor breathed several times, before continuing. "But if you look at history you will find some Dark Wizards who could cast the Killing Curse over and over. A nineteenth-century witch who called herself Dark Evangel (the Aurors called her A. K. McDowell) could cast the Killing Curse a dozen times in one fight. Ask yourself, as I asked myself, what is the secret that she knew? What is deadlier than hate and flows without limit?"

"I don't really care," Harry answered.

Tiggum posted:

A nineteenth-century witch who called herself Dark Evangel (the Aurors called her A. K. McDowell)

Tiggum posted:

Ichabod Sexbeast posted:

Just googled this to see if it's a historical figure.

It's a vampire from an anime.

I really don't know what I expected.

Ichabod Sexbeast posted:

Just googled this to see if it's a historical figure.

It's a vampire from an anime.

I really don't know what I expected.

Ichabod Sexbeast posted:

Just googled this to see if it's a historical figure.

It's a vampire from an anime.

I really don't know what I expected.

what hath thou wroughth, jimbo posted:

Evangeline Athanasia Katherine (Kitty) McDowell (エヴァンジェリン・アタナシア・キティ・マクダウェル Evanjerin Atanashia Kiti Makudaweru), listed as Evangeline A.K. McDowell (エヴァンジェリン・マクダウェル Evanjerin Makudaweru), and usually called by her classmates as Evachan, is student number twenty-six in the class. She is a British "high daylight walker" pure-blooded-vampire (真祖 Shinso, true Ancestor) who was turned at the age of ten during the Hundred Years' War.

Ch. 102 posted:

It had come up much earlier, before the Trial, in conversation with Hermione; when she'd said something about magical Britain being Prejudiced, with considerable and recent justification. And Harry had thought - but not said - that at least she'd been let into Hogwarts to be spat upon.

Not like certain people living in certain countries, who were, it was said, as human as anyone else; who were said to be sapient beings, worth more than any mere unicorn. But who nonetheless wouldn't be allowed to live in Muggle Britain. On that score, at least, no Muggle had the right to look a wizard in the eye. Magical Britain might discriminate against Muggleborns, but at least it allowed them inside so they could be spat upon in person.

What is deadlier than hate, and flows without limit?

"Indifference," Harry whispered aloud, the secret of a spell he would never be able to cast; and kept striding toward the library to read anything he could find, anything at all, about the Philosopher's Stone.

Tiggum posted:

Tiggum posted:

Now, this is a character speaking not the author, so they could be wrong about any or all of that, but let's assume it's right. Quirrell's problem with it is that the cast remains alive after casting, so the imprinted version won't have any memories made after the spell is cast. He's worried about "continuity of consciousness", which is a term that people who don't think they believe in souls use when they want to talk about souls. Basically he thinks that he'd be dead and a soulless clone of his mind would be walking around pretending to be him.

Mazerunner posted:

These two people are not, literally, the same person.

Mazerunner posted:

It's a relationship more like identical twin sibling, not a single being in two bodies.

So Yudkowski's description of the horcrux protects the general 'idea' of the caster- if Quirrell A dies, there's still Quirrell 1 to go on Quirrell-ing- but it does not protect the individual instance of Quirrell A.

Mazerunner posted:

That Quirrell 1 survives does not mean that Quirrell A has not stopped.

Mazerunner posted:

It does not actually stop or provide a means of preventing or surpassing the physical and mental cessation of Quirrell A- which is what he cares about and seeks.

Eliezer Yudkowsky posted:

Halfway down the page was the first exam question.

It was, Why is it important for children to stay away from strange creatures?

There was a stunned pause.

One student began laughing, she thought it was from the Gryffindor section of the class. Professor Quirrell made no motion to censor it, and the laughter spread.

Nobody spoke aloud, but the students looked around at each other, exchanging glances as the laughter died down, and then as if by some unspoken agreement they all looked at Professor Quirrell, who was smiling down at them benevolently.

Daphne bent over her exam, wearing a defiant evil smile that would have done proud to either Godric Gryffindor or Grindelwald; and she wrote down, Because my Stunning Hex, my Most Ancient Blade, and my Patronus Charm won't work against everything.

Eliezer Yudkwosky posted:

The last question on the test was "What would you do if you suspected there might be a Bogeysnake underneath your bed?" The Ministry-approved answer, Harry could in fact recall from his read-through of the textbook at the start of the year, was Tell your parents. The problem with this had occurred to Harry right away, which was why Harry had remembered it.

After some pondering, Harry wrote down:

Dear Ministry grader: I'm afraid the real answer to that is a secret, but rest assured that a Bogeysnake would present no more trouble to me than a mountain troll, a Dementor, or You-Know-Who. Please inform your superiors that I find your standard answer prejudicial to Muggleborns, and that I expect this failing will be corrected at once without any need for my direct intervention.

Sincerely, the Boy-Who-Lived.

Eliezer Yudkowsky posted:

"All of you in this room have received grades of at least Acceptable. Neville Longbottom who took this test in the Longbottom home received a grade of Outstanding. But the other student who is not here has had a Dreadful grade entered on her record for failing the only important test that was given her this year. I would have marked her even lower but that would have been in poor taste."

The room was very quiet, though a number of students were staring angrily at the Professor.

"You may think that a grade of Dreadful is not fair. That Miss Granger was faced with a test for which her lessons had not prepared her. That she was not told that the exam was coming on that day."

"Such is realism," said Professor Quirrell. "The only important test may come at any time. Be better prepared for it than she was.

Tiggum posted:

They're not the same person from that point onward, but they were the same person before that. They're both the "real" Quirrell and regardless of which one dies the real Quirrell is still alive. All that's lost are the memories the "original" forms between making the copy and dying, which is functionally equivalent to amnesia. You don't die whenever you forget something.

quote:

Without a soul (which Quirrell has stated doesn't exist) there is nothing "in" the body. There is no "individual instance" - no such thing as "continuity of consciousness". A person is just an idea. It's the ship of Theseus. It's the same ship no matter how much of it you replace, even to the point that no part of it is the same as it was to begin with. Quirrell is still Quirrell even if he's a copy.

Nothing has stopped because there is nothing to stop. There is no continuous thing that exists at the core of a person that defines them as themself.

quote:

It absolutely does prevent the physical and mental cessation of Quirrell though. "Quirrell A" and "Quirrell 1" is a distinction without meaning. They're both equally him.

Mazerunner posted:

regardless of how you define people or consciousness.

Mazerunner posted:

After the point of divergence, there is no 'real' Quirrell.

Mazerunner posted:

Are two genetically identical siblings the same person? Even at the moment of birth? They are genetically identical. They have the same memories (none). And yet it would be absurd to say that they are the same human being- however you want to define human being.

Mazerunner posted:

We can also define death as a loss of potential- that this being, this person will no longer act, will no longer experience, no longer grow (physically or mentally). However you want to define life, a dead person is explicitly Not That. If Quirrell A and 1 can be said to both have the potential to live different lives, then the death of one means the potential is lost- so the other's survival does not mean death was prevented.

Mazerunner posted:

If under one circumstance, both A and 1 live to 100 years old, living different lives- would you not say that there were two people?

Mazerunner posted:

You can clone grape vines, sort of, by using cuttings. Genetically identical. No memories to be lost or gained. One vine withers. The other continues to sprout. Is it one vine that is somehow in both the state of wither and bloom? Or is it two vines, one dead and one alive?

Mazerunner posted:

Or, suppose I offered to create a perfect replica of a $20 bill in your pocket. Now you'll have $40 dollars. Cool! But then I burn one of the bills- or maybe a completely different bill. It really doesn't matter. The point is that you could have gained $20 dollars, but you didn't. Potential value was lost. Real or not, original or fake, you do not have as much money as you could have.

Mazerunner posted:

And if the entire ship is burned to a crisp? Another ship is constructed afterwards using different wood, but in the same design. Is that the same ship?

Mazerunner posted:

What if the second ship was constructed before the first ship burned? Still the same ship?

Mazerunner posted:

But ok- a person is defined by the 'idea' of themselves- something intangible, separate from their mind and body (sounds a lot like a soul to me, but hey).

Mazerunner posted:

Well, after the point of divergence, Quirrell A and 1 are different ideas!

Quirrell A is defined by the idea that he is sitting on the left side of the room, and people call him Quirrell A. Quirrell 1 is defined by the idea that he is standing on the right side of the room, and people call him Quirrell 1.

If Quirrell A's meat is stopped, his idea is redefined to be 'dead', and the presence or continuation of Quirrell 1's meat means exactly jack-poo poo to him.

Mazerunner posted:

We can allow for some discontinuations in the 'idea' of a person or object- changes in mind, in material, etc. But there are some breaks so sharp that we must end the old idea, and start a new one.

Mazerunner posted:

I'm not discussing if they are real or not- I've conceded that they both are real, and both have equal claim to the title of Quirrell. Whether or not people have souls, they both equally do or do not have souls. But they do not have claim to literally be each other. They have diverged and will continue diverging- you can certainly treat them both as valid continuations of the idea of Quirrell before the divergence- but there was a divergence. You cannot treat them as completely indistinguishable from each other after that point.

Mazerunner posted:

If A enters a legal contract, is 1 bound to that contract?
If 1 commits a crime, is A to be punished?
If A drinks, should 1 go thirsty?
If 1 eats, can A eat again that exact same food that entered 1's mouth?
If Dumbledore kills 1, should he go free because A exists?
If A is sick, is 1 given medicine?
If 1 dies, is A declared dead as well?
If A is best friends with Harry, must he also be friends with 1? Even if all Harry's experiences with 1 are negative?

I think, that you'd have to admit that the answer to all these questions is no.

Mazerunner posted:

To Harry, they are not interchangeable. If his friend A dies, his relationship with A has ended. He can have a new or different relationship with 1 and it could be similar- but it cannot be identical to the relationship with A, because from Harry's perspective, he has had different experiences with them. His relationship with Quirrell 1 is layered on top of his knowledge of his relationship with A.

Mazerunner posted:

But moreover, you could say that a person is defined by their idea of themself. "I think, therefore I am", and all that. It smooths over losses of memory and conscious, changes in physical state and so on. Of course, we then allow for the existence of others- they think, therefore they are. And they are not I.

Mazerunner posted:

From Quirrell A's perspective, 1 is not him. 1 is someone else. He can interact with 1, in the way that he interacts with other not-Quirrell people. He perceives 1 from 'outside'. He does not have access to 1's mind (though he can make excellent guesses). He defines 1, by his relationship and memory. Taken together with the above, the ideas of A and 1 are intrinsically defined as being themself and not the other one.

If that is the 'idea' of them while both exist simultaneously (as allowed for in Yudkowski's scenario), then I don't see why that would change on the death (even pre-emptively) of one of them.

Mazerunner posted:

Also I noted that you skipped over the hypothetical of one winning the lottery and the other getting hit by the bus. Both Quirrell's want the lottery, neither want the bus. The distinction of which one gets what has great meaning for them. They would not share in the idea of being equally each other, would they?

Tiggum posted:

All that's lost are the memories the "original" forms between making the copy and dying

Cardiovorax posted:

What's lost is the individual consciousness that died.

Cardiovorax posted:

It's comparable to making a copy of a book and then burning the original.

Cardiovorax posted:

Since your consciousness is effectively a continuous process that happens inside one particular physical brain, one that cannot possibly ever be moved, this is (for all intents and purposes) death.

Cardiovorax posted:

You're mixing up identity and subjective self-awareness here.

Cardiovorax posted:

They're not the same thing. I don't blame you, though. It's a problem a lot of people struggle with, which is why ideas like "uploading yourself into a computer to become immortal" still exist at all, even though they make no sense at all from a practical standpoint.

Tiggum posted:

From a practical standpoint? Absurdity. We don't understand human brains well enough to even come close to doing that. And that's if there's even a computer powerful enough. From a theoretical standpoint? No problem at all. Assuming a good enough working knowledge of how the brain functions (including its interactions with the rest of the body) and computers advanced enough to run such a simulation, you can upload yourself to a computer.

Cardiovorax posted:

Your consciousness is not an independent substance that you can take out of your brain and put somewhere else.

Cardiovorax posted:

There isn't actually such a thing as a mind-matter duality and information cannot be moved. You can create it, you can reproduce it, and you can destroy it, but you can't move it out of the medium in which it is encoded.

Tiggum posted:

Exactly. Glad we agree. Information is not a physical substance and one instance of a given piece of information is fundamentally the same as another since both are merely representations of an abstract concept. "Consciousness" is not a thing, it's an idea.

Cardiovorax posted:

If I make a Tiggum-2 clone of you with all your memories and then put a bullet into the head of Tiggum-1, I think you might notice that there is, in fact, a very practical difference.

Cardiovorax posted:

"Consciousness does not actually exist" is the kind of counterfactual nonsense that even postmodernists would be ashamed of, though.

quote:

I'm fairly certain I wouldn't. There's one of me right now and in the future there would still be one of me with all my memories and personality intact. No different, in fact, than if I hadn't been cloned at all. How could it be otherwise? What difference would I supposedly notice? What would even be doing the noticing?

Cardiovorax posted:

Ok, so you're just arguing on the basis of semantics, then

Cardiovorax posted:

You are a conscious human being. You are aware that you are currently arguing with me.

Cardiovorax posted:

That individual self-experience has a beginning and it can also end.

Cardiovorax posted:

Just because there is a consciousness in another body that shares the identity of Tiggum does not make it the same person I am talking to now

Cardiovorax posted:

someone who has any sense at all.

Cardiovorax posted:

Ok, so you're just arguing on the basis of semantics, then, instead of real things. That explains a lot.

Milkfred E. Moore posted:

is tiggum really, actually arguing he's a p-zombie

Tiggum posted:

No. I don't know where to even begin clarifying this since I have no idea how you've reached this conclusion. That is absolutely not what I've been saying.

Liquid Communism posted:

Perhaps you should clarify in natural language if you feel people are misreading your intent.