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…sez Tower of Power!
Seth came to visit last week, Frank Warren gave a talk on Monday, I trekked down to Harrisburg last night for the Average White Band & ToP show, and I’ve stayed busy this week preparing for the Astrobiology Science Conference in Santa Clara next week. I’ve been away from blogging, but I’m having fun!
Perhaps it’s my upbringing, but I’ve never been a fan of television viewing instead of conversation at dinner. Some of my friends enjoy this practice, though, so I occasionally find myself crowded along one side of a table to find our primary mealtime entertainment in whatever program happens to be on. It’s not even that I abhor television in general; I would just rather spend a meal with friends or family in conversation, discussion, storytelling, or laughter.
I wonder if certain unhealthy relationships tend to last longer because of television as a mealtime entertainer. These meals count as time spent together, but because of the limited degree of interactivity, such a couple could spend an entire dinner without sharing more than a few sentences. Thus, conflict that would otherwise arise through discussion or conversation is avoided and delayed, the continuing lack of communication building toward the ultimate demise.
This is not to say that all television viewing disrupts relationships, but I think in many cases the replacement of interaction with television viewing creates a false sense of relational stability.
I’m with Paul in saying goodbye to February. I’m not surprised that my music listening habits returned to normal as March and Spring glistened on the horizon–and just in time for me to snag April tickets to both Tower of Power and Blue Man Group.
To get an early start on my Spring, I’m off to Puerto Rico for a week of rum drinking, telescope visiting, rainforest tromping, and beach bumming! In addition, I’m also looking forward to finishing revisions on my book (~60% done) and reading Frans de Waal’s Primates and Philosophers.
Have a great week, everyone!
Friends who put your needs above their own are a rare treasure indeed.
Then Jesus went with them to a place called Gethsemane; and he said to his disciples, ‘Sit here while I go over there and pray.’ He took with him Peter and the two sons of Zebedee, and began to be grieved and agitated. Then he said to them, ‘I am deeply grieved, even to death; remain here, and stay awake with me.’ And going a little farther, he threw himself on the ground and prayed… Then he came to the disciples and found them sleeping; and he said to Peter, ‘So, could you not stay awake with me one hour? Stay awake and pray that you may not come into the time of trial; the spirit indeed is willing, but the flesh is weak.’ Again he went away for the second time… Again he came and found them sleeping, for their eyes were heavy. So leaving them again, he went away and prayed for the third time… Then he came to the disciples and said to them, ‘Are you still sleeping and taking your rest? See, the hour is at hand, and the Son of Man is betrayed into the hands of sinners. Get up, let us be going. See, my betrayer is at hand.’
(Matthew 26:36-46)
Jesus had many disciples and followers, but I wonder who, if anyone, he considered a close friend.
In the Spring a livelier iris changes on the burnish’d dove;
In the Spring a young man’s fancy lightly turns to thoughts of love.
–Alfred Lord Tennyson, Locksley Hall
I’m not sure what it is in particular about the coming of Spring, but in my scant twenty five years of existence I’ve found Tennyson’s observations generally accurate for myself. Perhaps the winter starts to wear on us come February or March as we anticipate the return and rejuvenation of outdoor life and entertain the possibility of joining the flourish.
Biologically it makes sense that humans periodically entertain thoughts of love so that the species can continue, and I think there is validity that this time comes for many as the snow begins melting. It makes me wonder about snow barren lands like California: does the nearly constant summertime creates an endless romantic cycle, with fragile love never subjected to the harshness of winter?
There’s no telling what the coming season will bring, but if animated owls constitute a source of wisdom I had best prepare for the inevitable:
Nearly everybody gets twitterpated in the springtime. For example: You’re walking along, minding your own business. You’re looking neither to the left, nor to the right, when all of a sudden you run smack into a pretty face. Woo-woo! You begin to get weak in the knees. Your head’s in a whirl. And then you feel light as a feather, and before you know it, you’re walking on air. And then you know what? You’re knocked for a loop, and you completely lose your head!
–Friend Owl, Bambi
It could happen to you…
The stereotypical dirty hippie keeps barefoot to avoid treading on Mother Earth, shoes possessing some sort of destructive power. Though I disagree with the rationale, there is some truth to the power of the barefoot experience. Cultures and religions across the world value bare feet as a sign of reverence or a designation of sanctity.
There the angel of the Lord appeared to him in a flame of fire out of a bush; he looked, and the bush was blazing, yet it was not consumed. Then Moses said, “I must turn aside and look at this great sight, and see why the bush is not burned up.” When the Lord saw that he had turned aside to see, God called to him out of the bush, “Moses, Moses!” And he said, “Here I am.” Then he said, “Come no closer! Remove the sandals from your feet, for the place on which you are standing is holy ground.”
(Exodus 3:2-5)
Temples may require shoelessness prior to entrance, but I think the reason for such a policy has little to do with protection of the sanctuary and more to do with maximizing individual experience.
“Earth’s crammed with heaven,
And every common bush afire
with God:
but only he who sees takes off his shoes.”
–Elizabeth Barrett Browning (HT Whiskey River)
We typically use our hands as primary sensory devices to touch, feel, grasp, and move. Our feet are also capable of similar tasks, yet when encased in shoes and socks we limit our range of possible experiences (although often for pragmatic reasons). When entering a sanctuary, though, shoe removal allows greater participation as both hands and feet explore and experience the surrounding environment.
Instead of protecting the environment from excess wear, the barefoot experience grants us a connection with our environment typically inaccessible in our daily lives. Holy ground does not necessitate bare feet, but the sage would never dream of wearing shoes upon it, for to do so would diminish the experience of the sacred.
I’ve found myself listening to music much less frequently this past week, though I’m not burned out on music as I’ve also been composing more. I think I must simply be enjoying a break from my habit of nearly continuous music in my apartment. (I didn’t decide to stop listening to music one day; it just sort of happened.) The experience has made me wonder if music is sometimes overplayed in our lives, if the incessant and continuous sounds cause the art to lose its significance. For me, at least, musical experiences have been some of my most profound spiritual moments, both as a performer and as an audience member. This sacred experience of music has nothing to do with religious or faith tradition, for music is a way for human beings to communicate and share with each other when words fall short.
In some of the world’s dwindling tribal societies, music is not an industry. Instead of individual consumption of personal musical tastes, music is a communal experience as part of celebration or ceremony that shapes a shared cultural mythology. The power of music comes from the interaction between performers and participants, and in this type of musical celebration no one is a bystander. Furthermore, community events such as this are one of the only times to hear music, as the lack of recording technology and portable playback devices limits non-ceremonial music to the recreational activities of musicians. In a way, the sanctity of music is guarded in such a society by limiting musical consumption to sacred venues. Sacred music in our society, on the other hand, is constantly diluted with profane (commercial?) music, blurring the line between the two.
This is not to say that our culture has too much music, but my current experiment with silence has caused me to wonder if a constant barrage of music deadens our senses and devalues our perception of the art as a whole. I’m sure I’ll eventually return to my habits of music consumption, but for now silence is golden.
We struggle to define or describe consciousness itself, and yet we seem to have little trouble in designating other creatures as “not conscious” and “purely instinctual”. Perhaps our mode of perception is unique to our species, but I sincerely doubt that the phenomenon of consciousness itself is a binary characteristic.
And the rain comes down
As the wind blows round
And I stand alone
As the seasons change
(Cootie Brown, Solstice)
As the wind blows round
And I stand alone
As the seasons change
(Cootie Brown, Solstice)
Other reflections on the Solstice:
The Story of Stuff and Dreaming of a Green Christmas from ferelkevin
Our significance is merely an illusion from a cosmic perspective, yet I think this realization only magnifies the wonder and amazement of our home.
Pale Blue Dot, a photograph of Earth from a distance of 3.7 billion miles by Voyager 1, in honor of the 11th anniversary of Carl Sagan’s death and the Carl Sagan blog-a-thon.
It has been said that astronomy is a humbling and character-building experience. There is perhaps no better demonstration of the folly of human conceits than this distant image of our tiny world. To me, it underscores our responsibility to deal more kindly with one another, and to preserve and cherish the pale blue dot, the only home we’ve ever known. –Carl Sagan
Is fame by itself a worthwhile pursuit?
In academia, some faculty members seem bent on making their name as prominent as possible in their field, in order to achieve greater recognition. Yet fame as an objective in itself can lead to a situation where it is the only product of research efforts. A large number of publications may produce name recognition among peers, but unless the publications are also of high quality this only marginally benefits the community at large. Questionably ethical practices can also arise from the sole pursuit of fame: a single study with significant and useful results can be split into several segments–a practice known as salami slicing–in order to maximize name exposure.
Is there any purpose in this type of empty fame–aside from the quest for immortality? There is no shortage of examples for individuals who gain fame by virtue of their brilliant ideas, but I am inclined to think that most of these people did not seek fame in and of itself.
With the chief sin, if you will, as any unrestricted pursuit in life, we can define the remaining sins and fully construct the deadly sins tree.
The unrestricted pursuit of…
Pride: delusions
Envy: desire
Lust: sexual desire
Greed: goods, for storage
Gluttony: goods, for consumption
Sloth: nothing
Wrath: hatred
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Sloth Pride Wrath Envy Lust Greed Gluttony
Minimalism expresses the complexities of simplicity.
Greed and gluttony seem to share similar qualities with each other. This weekend Erin Dawood pointed out to me that lust also falls into this broader category.
We can define lust in a general sense as “the unrestricted pursuit of sexual desire”. The sin of lust, then, follows the same pattern as greed and gluttony: excessive or unrestricted action is itself the base sin, whether this be the storage of goods (greed), the consumption of goods (gluttony) or sexual desire (lust).
It seems reasonable to me that all seven of the deadly sins could follow a similar pattern. Greed and gluttony are more similar to each other than to lust, since they deal with the acquisition of goods, so we can describe the seven sins with a tree structure. As I think through the remaining three sins (wrath, sloth, and envy) I’ll build up the tree until we have a complete relation of the seven sins–and we can see which of the sins takes its place at the root of the tree.
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Pride Lust Greed Gluttony
Pride is the delusion of possible success when failure is certain.
Considering the traditional seven deadly sins, two of them seem to me to be variations on a theme:
Greed is the excessive acquisition of goods for storage/hoarding.
Gluttony is the excessive acquisition of goods for consumption.
The action upon the collected goods differentiates between greed and gluttony, but the two sins (at least when expressed as above) seem to share excessive acquisition as the negative action. In other words, at least these two out of the seven say it is sinful to take more than is necessary.
Statistical studies based on the random sampling of a population have wide degrees of usefulness, often dependent on the population in question. When human behavior (such as consumer tendencies, voting paterns, and social perception) is evaluated in an academic setting, this is often accomplished by soliciting participants to form the random sample. Solicitation may be random (within the constraints of the experiments), providing an adequate sample from which something meaningful can be inferred.
Although there are statistical techniques that attempt to correct for various biases in the sample, I wonder if there is any tendency among people who tend not to respond to such inquiries. That is, I would like to see a study that evaluates similarities between people who routinely reject invitations to participate in studies. I realize that undertaking such a study might be self-defeating (since you would get no voluntary participants), but the results of such a study could prove invaluable in defining the applicability of a random sample in many cases.
This weekend marks the 4th annual Locust Grove summer weekend. As I packed up my car, I considered the reasons for looking forward to the weekend.
Seclusion. There is no such thing as “getting closer to nature”; we are biological creatures, so anything we do or make is still natural. However, spending time away from the sights and demands of civilization make it easier to reflect on a time when all humans on the planet (including our ancestors) lived as hunter-gatherers. And on top of that, a secluded location necessitates disappearance.
Music. I enjoy playing music, and I enjoy listening; but for me music is a need. Music is powerful, and music creates memories. As Tower of Power put it, “The music makes you happy, or it can make you sad. It can turn the worst day into the best you ever had.”
Community. We spend most of our days interacting with various groups of people, many of which are unrelated. Before the (recent) advent of human cities, the tribe was the primary human social unit. It is difficult to recreate all elements of tribalism, especially in a weekend, but even a temporary experience of the tribe is worthwhile.
Off I go! Be back on Sunday.
A revision to an earlier post, this time with just one statement.
If you take more than you need, then you might develop addiction–and addiction is self-destructive.
I saw a spider on the sidewalk and walked around it. For a brief moment our paths crossed, and in all probability that will be the only time I ever directly encounter that particular spider.
How would my life be different if this spider had not been at that time and place? Most people don’t ever think about encounters like this, but it is impossible to know that the spider will have no effect on my life. Perhaps twenty years from now I’ll think of this situation again, or perhaps it will never come up again. But the fact that I’m writing this post means the spider had a nonzero impact on my life. And in general I tend to think that there is no such thing as a completely inconsequential encounter–even when simply walking down the street.
My stereo system is one of the best purchases I have made. I think it is fair to claim that most of the work I have done while playing music in my apartment (or bedroom back in MN) has been positively influenced, yet it would be difficult-to-impossible to quantify this contribution. The music is more than just a silence-filler: it aids in the creation of a positive work environment. For some people, this can include hanging posters, drinking coffee/tea, or having a comfortable place to sit. I would have a hard time writing off a stereo system as a business expense, but it has been just as valuable for maintaining productivity as any other tool.
Stated generally, most often it can be assumed that an individual sample is close to the mean of the population.
But what happens when a particular individual sample is on the tail end of the distribution?
I saw this quote today on bash.org:
<CtrlAltDestroy> Here is my impression of Wikipedia.
<CtrlAltDestroy> “There are five fingers on the human hand [citation needed]“
This raises an interesting question: at what point is knowledge considered common enough that it no longer requires citation? For writing in academia, the general rule is to cite ideas that are not your own, thereby leaving u-ncited statements as your own thoughts. But if I were to observe that “there are five fingers on the human hand”, I certainly could not claim to be the discoverer of this information. It would not be difficult to find a source to cite, but would there be any purpose to it? Most people (and publications) are fine with allowing a statement like this to remain un-cited, but at what point is knowledge considered general enough that it can stand alone without a referenced authority?
I was going to make a blog entry, but instead I played my vibraphone. I think it was a good decision. I discovered two things as well:
1) It is much easier to sing and play than I thought it would be.
2) I accompanied myself on a song I wrote several years ago. My feelings at the time were different than they are now, and singing the song was a nice reflection on how time can change things.
Sometimes I wish I had been born 50,000 years ago.
But there’s no time like the present.
That was a lot of fun.
For some reason, I just can’t get excited about rocks. I am very interested in what we can learn about Earth’s history from the geologic record, but I have so far failed in my attempts at generating interest in actually studying rocks.
At first I thought it might be an issue of timescales (since rocks don’t “do” anything in an observable timescale), but this couldn’t be it–after all, I did my undergraduate work in astrophysics, where the timescales are so large they sometimes become incomprehensible. Perhaps familiarity adds to this; I see rocks almost every day, but I only see a planetary nebula if I look through a telescope or find pictures other astronomers have already taken. Whatever the reason, I want to care about rocks, but I haven’t been able to yet.
Maybe the Death Valley field trip in two weeks will help change this. Or maybe I just don’t have a geologist’s heart.
Today marks the one year anniversary of this blog! In honor of this event, today’s entry features a selection of my favorite posts.
I know why the caged CH4 sings
Furry animals good, tubeworms bad
Baseball Stats: Cumulative Postseason Stochastic Indicator
Using a d20 to Estimate Any Rational Probability
Origins of Science / Universal Free Time
“Anthropogenic” / The Natural Watchmaker / Natural Climate Change / Mesopogenic
There are an infinite number of things you didn’t think about today.
Most people like to think they have free will, and in light of quantum mechanics this may be true. That is, quantum mechanics is probabilistic instead of deterministic, so it is possible that a person’s actions are not entirely determined by the previous physical and chemical state of their brain.
Assuming we have free will, what exactly are we free to do? Free will is the non-determined selection of an action when presented with a choice. For example, a pedestrian who sees a car driving down a road can 1) wait to cross the road until the car has passed, or 2) hurriedly cross the road ahead of the car. Person X with free will can choose one of these two options and follow through with action. Person Y without free will reacts to the situation based on brain chemistry and deterministically selects one of the options.
Regardless of free will, both X and Y have one thing in common: they had no control over their encounter with the car. Free will may provide the ability to choose a course of action, but it does not guarantee the ability to choose your choices! You did not choose to find a car in your path, just as you cannot choose the people you run into during the day or the things you see and hear when outside.
On the path of life there are many crossroads. We select paths by choice, but we encounter them by fate.
The best invention of our culture is the ability to make ourselves laugh.
At the beginning of time, the gods began weaving the web of the fabric of the universe. The web is woven in time, with countless threads. Everything is connected by this web; the life of every creature is connected by this web. Some creatures who live connected by the web also study the web itself.
People who look toward the inner edge of the web–the very first strands to be woven–are historians. The fields of astronomy, cosmology, geology, and evolutionary biology are examples of looking back along the strands. The very first strands to be woven give us the earliest picture of the gods’ web tapestry.
People who look toward the outer edge of the web–the most recent strands–are prophets. Any type of forecaster (meteorologist, physicist, chemist) looks along the web in this way. Prophets look at the edge of the web in order to predict how future strands will be woven.
Where do you draw the line between technology and magic? Is there even a difference?
The knee-jerk reaction is something like, “Of course there’s a difference! Magic is based on the existence of a non-physical world, while technology is based on the progress and discoveries of science!” The more I thought about it, though, the more I realized there is not such a stark contrast between the two.
The only real defining characteristic of magic (before the technological era) was a process/force/divination/outcome that amazed onlookers because of the mystery surrounding the event. Through some unknown means, a sage of the middle ages might have concocted a love potion that drew two people together–magic, yes? But if this same potion were made today we would call it medicine, because we would also describe the effects of the potion on brain chemistry and hormone levels, having the effect of increasing sexual desire. In other words, when we think we understand the entire process, magic becomes technology.
Now consider a person who does not understand any nuances of technology. A satellite phone is no less amazing than a wizard’s magical message spell that allows two people to speak over great distances. The outcome is the same, and for a person who knows absolutely nothing of technology the difference is irrelevant–by some process unbeknownst to them, they are able to speak with a person thousands of miles away.
The distinction between the two is nonexistent. Technology is the magic of our times.
Martin Luther King Jr. day was this past Monday, but that doesn’t mean it’s too late to celebrate. And what better way to celebrate racial diversity than by serving up a nice big piece of marble cake?
Back in high school, the cafeteria served marble cake as a way of promoting diversity awareness. (At least, that was our working hypothesis; the cafeteria also served marble cake for all other holidays.) A marble cake conveys a simple message of equality: we may be different flavors, but we can all contribute to the same tasty dessert. The uniqueness of the marble cake comes from the fact that the chocolate and vanilla flavors are still separate, but they are juxtaposed in a synergetic array of sugar. Truly, Dr. King would be proud to have this fine dessert as a representation of the day bearing his name.
As for me, my high school graduation party had segregated cake: (chocolate on one half, vanilla on the other). I’m not sure why I made this request, other than to tell people the cake had been segregated.
Here’s something I don’t understand: what exactly does it mean to own land?
In order for a commodity to be sold, there needs to be a buyer and a seller. Well, who is selling land? I suppose ultimately land is considered to be owned by the government, and the government then decides how best to split up the land among smaller districts and eventually individuals and families. But how did the government gain the right to own land? Perhaps it is reasonable to allow for the government allocating plots of land to individuals–certainly a remnant of the transition from a nomadic to agrarian lifestyle. The problem, then, is the precise meaning of “ownership” in this context.
When a human owns land, what rights does this entail? If a plot of land is owned by a family, does this simply mean that other humans are not allowed to live on this land without permission? The fact that property is build upon, changed, landscaped, and sometimes abused suggests land ownership is more than separation. If there are squirrels or rabbits in an owned property, does the family have the right to shoot these creatures, even if not for food? What if dolphins lived in owned property–would recreational hunting still be okay?
Although there may be a need for humans to separate into their own little plots, I see no basis for the concept of ownership akin to “mastery”. We may draw arbitrary lines to keep our human neighbors away, but we often forget that we share this planet with a nearly innumerable host of other creatures, and it would be ridiculous to think that we could obtain absolute ownership of any part of this planet.
The Department of Homeland Security threat level is Code Orange for the airport sector. This represents a “high risk of terrorist attacks”, and was in effect yesterday during the high-traffic Thanksgiving traffic.
I usually don’t encounter obvious racial profiling at the airport, but I did have one recent incident where a certain airline’s computers denied me a service because I “have an Arab last name”. (For the record, only half of my last name is Arab; the second half is Hindu. Also, my first and middle names are Jewish in origin. But I digress.) Anyhow, I would assume that since there was a “high risk of terrorist attacks” I might be watched a little more closely.
I make it through the long line pretty quickly and unload my carry-on bags, removing my shoes, laptop, and jacket. I make it through the metal detector and am asked for my boarding pass. I pat my pockets, only to realize my boarding pass was in my jacket. I tell the TSA guy so, and he points in the direction of either another TSA person or the conveyor belt–both were nearby. I waited a few minutes as the x-ray scanners were scrutinizing someone’s bag (the person in front of me, I think). After a bit, I collect my things, and look around to try and find this mysterious person to verify my boarding pass. No one seemed to be paying any attention, though, so I walked out.
Not a huge breach of security, of course, but if TSA is going to remain insistent that these security measures are necessary for national safety, you would think they should notice the Arab-looking guy who didn’t end up showing his boarding pass.
Benjamin Franklin was a fan of two things: turkeys and electricity. Aside from his classic flying-a-kite-in-a-storm experiment, he also did some work with Leyden jars–the first original capacitor. It is not very difficult to build a Leyden jar, and you can do so with a variety of household items including a film canister. Leyden jars can provide hours of spark-making fun.
Using a strong enough Leyden jar, Ben Franklin proposed an electric picnic. With stealthy hunting techniques, you could sneak up on a wild turkey and kill it with an electric shock. Once cleaned, the bird can then be cooked over a fire started with a Leyden jar spark. This seems like an apt way of celebrating the holiday; after all, it combines American history with the reckless and playful use of electricity–both of which we should be thankful for.
This conversation occurred this past summer at the groom’s dinner of a friend’s wedding:
R: They say ‘three times a bridesmaid, never a bride’…but this is my fourth time, so I’m in the clear, right?
Me: Right…so what they should say is ‘if the number of times you’ve been a bridesmaid mod 3 equals zero, never a bride’.
<silence>
Me: Sorry, wrong group of friends.
In different social circles, there are certain things common to all or most of the group members. Co-workers all share the same employer, friends may share one or more common interests, students of the same major may tend to group together. A common interest lends itself to very specific types of humor, as all members of the group are proficient enough in a subject matter that ordinarily obscure details can be used comically. Every now and then, we (or at least I) forget the limited scope of these comments and make a reference outside of the joke’s domain–as illustrated above.
Jargon-rich and technical fields allow this situation to occur more often. The recipients of these comments may feel excluded, as if the speaker is purposefully trying to show-off or cause isolation. But on the other side, the person making such comments may be trying to share their interests with people outside a particular social circle. A computer programmer may make a technical joke to a clueless group of marketeers in an effort to breach some of the divisions that have formed.
We all have different social circles between family, friends, work, and other activities. We will never blend all these people together to form one group, but for us they represent our pseudo-tribe, in a sense. And because of this, there will always be some leakage between one group and another–for better or worse.
The karate master waits patiently before performing a great feat, such as breaking a brick or piece of wood. Facing his foe, he spends an eternity contemplating his strategy, looking and listening for the precise moment to make his strike. At that perfect moment, the totality of his being is directed toward his target, shattering the obstacle to bits.
Sometimes I like to think that’s how my productivity works. It’s not that I’m procrastinating…I’m just contemplating my problem, waiting for the perfect moment to come when I can all of a sudden write down the answer and be done. At least it sounds better than procrastination, right?
I have nothing against the art of tattooing, but I have never received a tattoo for one reason: I have a hard time thinking of an image and/or affiliation I would like permanently inscribed on my body. It’s not as much a question of the artwork but rather the ideology or institution the tattoo stands for. A “classic” tattoo involves a heart and a loved one, but what happens if that particular relationship ends? Some people might get tattoos of fictional characters, but is there a guarantee that you will always have the same appreciation for that character?
Fundamental to the idea of tattoos (at least in my opinion) is the notion of brand affiliation. Many people choose their clothing with a particular brand affiliation in mind; this could be a commercial brand (such as an athletic or designer company), a organizational brand (such as a sports team, band, university, or place of employment), or an abstract brand (i.e., wearing nerdy clothes to associate with the “nerd brand”). Tattoos are an extension of this affiliation, but the permanency of the tattoo forces people to limit their design selection to something to which they feel a particularly strong affinity. Clothing and tattoos are only two examples of this type of human behavior. It’s election season–you can easily look around for more instances.
There is one tattoo concept I would consider, but I still haven’t been able to come up with an acceptable design.
Everyone knows the story of “Hansel & Gretel”, right? Hansel and Gretel are wandering through the woods having separated from their parents, and come across a small cottage. Upon closer inspection, they discover the cottage is made of candy–so they proceed to eat pieces of the house!
Now, I understand that a 3-4 year old child might eat random candy found on the street regardless of how dirty it is, but I imagine that Hansel and Gretel were probably in the 6-8 year old range. These children might still go out of their way for relatively inaccessible sugars, but would they really start eating a random cottage? Given the cottage’s location in the woods, I imagine the frosting and other sticky parts would be coated in dust, dirt, leaves, and bird droppings among other things. And even sections with relatively little exposure to the elements would be oxidized and hard, not a pleasant culinary experience. I am not trying to make a case against a candy cottage; rather, I think the story underestimates the common sense of typical 6-8 year olds. Even greedy candy-devouring 8 year olds would know better than to consume a stale, dirty, fecal-matter encrusted graham cracker.
This post could work with a variety of creatures, but I seem to enjoy talking about dolphins.
Many human civilizations that developed counting systems used a base of ten–and obviously the most prominent modern mathematical convention is to use base ten. It is simple enough to consider a reason for choosing to base a counting system on ten: we have ten fingers. Perhaps other factors came into play and perhaps not, but it is a reasonable enough guess.
Now let’s apply this same conclusion to dolphins. In a few million years, say that dolphins evolve to a higher level of intelligence and develop their own counting systems. Assuming dolphins do not develop fingers or any additional appendages they would have two front flippers, a dorsal fin, and a tail. Following the human convention for selecting a counting base, we might expect dolphins to use a binary (base two) counting system (counting with each flipper). Computer systems presently operate with a binary system, as a zero and one can be designated easily with low and high voltage, respectively. If binary computing is an advantage, then perhaps a dolphin society that primarily uses a binary counting system will have a technological advantage at some point in their development.
I’m telling you, watch out for the dolphins–but at least they’re friendly.
The TSA recently relaxed the ban on liquids in carry-on baggage (as of September 26) to allow passengers to bring travel toothpaste, shampoo, and other essentials.
However, when I flew to Indiana for a cousin’s wedding last weekend, the original no liquids rule was still in place. Whenever possible, I avoid checking luggage; I have had too many lost bags to trust the airlines at this point. The hotel would have shampoo, and I could obtain hair gel and toothpaste easily enough, but I still wanted to make my point–if only for self-gratification. I put all of my belongings in a carry-on, and checked the following bag with my restricted, terror-inducing liquids:
The conversation at the ticketing counter went something like this:
Agent: Please put your bag on the scale.
Me: Sure.
Agent: Uhh…ten pounds? Are you sure that’s right?
Me: Yeah…mostly I just wanted to transport the bag.
The last part is also true, as my brother is currently using the suitcase. No need to go any further than that with the agent either. I have no quarrel with ticket agents in this area. It’s all the TSA. I later learned that my travel-sized deodorant was cleared for my carry-on, so the suitcase should only have contained my dangerous hair gel. In any case, I carried the bag to the TSA screening machine and walked to my gate. I was hoping that the extra-light nearly empty suitcase would be too suspicious to pass up and I would find a third item upon claiming my bag (an “inspected by the TSA” notice). But my bag arrived without any such signs of search. But then again, I suppose the screening machine would have noticed exactly two dangerously-looking items that posed no threat.
Will there be a TSA Fun #2? There would have been one if the liquids ban had not been relaxed. But the TSA is not known for it’s customer-friendly attitude, so I would not be surprised if one of their new policies prompts some more experimentation.
The history of science and technology has many instances of discovery by accident: scientists may be measuring a certain object of phenomenon when they accidentally observe something else, leading them to a new finding they had not anticipated. My favorite story of this type is the discovery of the cosmic microwave background radiation by Penzias and Wilson. What they initially thought was noise in their equipment was actually a faint signature of the cosmic fireball.
Accidental discoveries still happen, large and small in scale. But what about random discoveries? In the “olden days” this might have taken the form of walking into a library, picking an arbitrary book off an arbitrary shelf, flipping to an arbitrary page, and happening upon a piece of information that results in the metaphorical light bulb turning on. I would imagine that this type of discovery has not been too common, especially on the larger scale. With the introduction of the Internet, however, it is much easier to obtain random information. Projects like StumbleUpon are not completely random, but they provide a similar function. Furthermore, it would not be difficult to have a random Internet resource emailed once a week, day, hour, or any frequency. Given the large reservoir of information on the Internet, there would certainly be a lot of “useless” information–one would not want to depend on stochastic information searching for research progress. But perhaps the introduction of random knowledge would (does?) lend itself to a few important connections, leading to discoveries and inventions that may not have otherwise occurred.
Let’s try it out: I located a pseudo-random web page using random word and number generators. Everyone likes peach cobbler, right?
http://southernfood.about.com/od/peachcobblers/r/blbb147.htm
If you have never done so, visit Zombo.com before reading further.
Why have I included a link to Zombo.com on both my blog and my personal website? Aside from humor value, Zombo.com is a perfect metaphor for life.
You can do anything…the only limit is yourself. Sometimes we forget that we are our own enablers; we wait for someone or something to come into our lives to initiate a change or trigger an event. Even if we get bored with daily routine and the status quo, we may not take the initiative to move past these obstacles. Zombo.com is a beacon of hope on the Internet, a constant reminder that we are in control of our own destiny; we have the power to bring about change and choose a path for life.
And of course this includes the choice to spend our afternoons watching flash animations. The infinite is possible…
Although I do remember where I was on September 11, 2001 and all the details that go along with that, I’m not going to talk about that. I’m also not going to talk about the political/religious implications of the attack or anything along those lines. Instead, this post is about the two weeks and beyond following 9/11. Specifically, media coverage (or the lack thereof).
The Taliban had been in the news for at least a month prior to the 9/11 attack, but not in the spotlight. No one really cared about the Taliban–until one day everything changed. “Of course we hate the Taliban, we’ve always hated the Taliban,” became a mantra eerily reminiscent of George Orwell. Here was the opportunity for amazing journalism to be done: exploring the history, viewing the human side of the story, covering the aftermath, assessing the international context. Instead, we got two weeks of the same Twin Towers video footage with the occasional interview with a retired politician. Oh, and firefighters.
Now, all of these things are good and important–don’t get me wrong, the firefighters deserved a lot of the coverage they received. But when an event occurs with such a magnitude that it registers on the international scale, it is too bad that the coverage could not reflect this perspective. But that’s still not what really irks me. Post attack, there was a lot of confusion and uncertainty, so one cannot fault journalists for being imperfect, right? The real issue, then, is that despite being the victim of a tremendous attack, the perspective of U.S. journalists did not gain much of an international broadening. Terrible, horrible atrocities occur all over the globe, yet journalists only occasionally give these a passing glance–even though the entire world was united with us when we suffered our attack.
Journalists aside, I like to think (or hope) that the rest of us became more aware of the global problems we share, as a result of 9/11. Tragedies happen, but the real tragedy is when we learn nothing from them.
One of the conceptual problems with time travel is the so-called “grandmother paradox”. That is, I could travel back in time and kill my own grandmother. But that would mean that my birth never occurs, in which case I would be unable to travel back in time to kill my grandmother, which means I am actually born, so I can still travel back in time…
Perhaps there is a solution to this paradox, in the form of the many-worlds interpretation of quantum mechanics. Every time time travel is attempted, two parallel worlds are created: one in which the time travel was successful, and one in which it failed. This way, there would always exist one world in which time travel never occurs. Other worlds in which time travel took place may indeed be stable and paradox-free. However, worlds in which a grandmother-type paradox ensued would be unstable, as the very act of killing one’s grandmother would create an infinite loop of created worlds. The only one of these worlds which is stable, though, is the one in which grandmother killing (”grand matricide”?) was not attempted; and the remaining worlds would cease to exist.
The moral of the story: if you aren’t sure whether or not you have time travelled, avoid your grandmother at all costs!
As children, most of us learned the game tic-tac-toe. The game was amusing until we solved it–at some point, most children learn the algorithm to force every game to end in a draw. This strategy game then gave way to Connect Four (which is also solvable), checkers (which is mostly solvable), and chess (which is only easily solvable for certain endgames). Checkers (and probably chess) will likely be completely solved in the near future as computing power advances.
After the initial childhood exploration of strategy games, there seems to be two paths to pursue. The first is the deterministic strategy games described above (with either polynomial or exponential complexity). The second is often manifested as a physical sport, but it is characterized by the introduction of non-deterministic elements (such as weather, dice rolls, equipment malfunction, etc.). A game of football may be played with flawless strategy, but because of the nature of the variables involved, a game of football is not computationally solvable. Games of chance (such as gambling) fall somewhere between here. A game of poker or blackjack is not completely deterministic, but with proper strategy it is probabilistically deterministic. So a world-class chess player might be certain of victory at a given place in their game, a world-class poker player would be reasonably assured of victory in all probability, and a world-class football player could only count on victory when the clock or range of scores provided certainty.
As for myself, I plan on learning the game of go in the near future. It falls in the first category described above, but it is exponentially complex. The game has been solved for 3×3 and 4×4 boards, but most people play on 19×19 boards. Sounds like fun.
Sigmund Freud and others have suggested a subconscious Oedipus complex (the desire of a man to kill his father and possess his mother) as an explanation for various behaviors and attractions. Assuming that this does exist in most men to at least some degree (whether or not this is valid), we can come up with an evolutionary basis for the Oedipus complex.
Part of the drive for mating in humans is the act of passing one’s genes to the next generation. However, perhaps this is not a sufficient reason for males to reproduce (perhaps due to overcrowding, social restraints, or other factors). Pair-bonding and copulation may be desired, but reproduction leads to unnecessary complications (i.e. babies). However, the presence of an Oedipus complex may tip the balance in favor of raising a family. If a male has some subconscious maternal desire, it is unlikely that he will act on this directly; but this may translate into raising a family which his partner who has taken on the “pseudo-mother” role. That is, a female partner that cares for children sufficiently satisfies the Oedipus complex as a maternal substitute. And evolutionarily, this encourages the male to produce children with the same partner.
Maybe not, but it could be…
One behavioral characteristics of the “development” of primates (including humans) is the designation of a lavatory site outside of the camp; that is, the separation of waste management from the rest of the society. Whether the reasons be social, hygienic, or something else, there seems to be at least a moderate correlation between so-called “intelligence” and the use of a lavatory outside of the main camp. (I would take issue with this as a sign of “intelligence”; rather, I would say it simply suggests a trend toward a particular social structure.)
In the modern day and age, it is interesting that the lavatory has progressed back into our camp–or buildings and houses. The outhouse on the edge of the farm has been replaced by plumbing systems that achieve the same sanitary function. Yet the designation of the lavatory as a place outside of and removed from society has been replaced by the modern bathroom, a specific place within a house or building, but one given much more care and decoration. Some modern cultures still retain a sense of “outside seclusion” when it comes to bathrooms, even with indoor modern plumbing; but in the United States and many European nations (and elsewhere) there is seemingly a shift in the attitude toward waste management. If social separation from the waste process is a sign of intelligence, then perhaps we are taking a step backwards…
As children, most of us played some sort of imagination game. Typically these games had no rules, or at least had a small set of unspoken implied rules. As we grew up, we turned to organized sports and formalized games, which had very specific rulesets when compared with the form-free gaming of childhood. These more organized games may be as fun as the free-form childhood games (or perhaps even more so), but I have often wondered whether or not the “ruleless” games have a benefit that is lost in the world of rules.
The world of rules is inevitable, but there can be ways around it. This is perhaps one of the reasons for my recent posts on chess variations. Although the rules of chess are specific and well-defined, changing the rules slightly allows for a surprisingly fresh outlook on a familiar paradigm. Even though the process of growing up requires us to adapt specific rulesets–whether this be the rules of business or the rules of baseball–but by making an effort to explore the variations in the rulesets we face, we can approach the limit of the ruleless games we knew as children.
Yesterday evening at the Tussey Mountain Wing Challenge, the singer of the featured band encouraged everyone to enjoy the “hot wings and cold beer”. My wings and beer were hot and cold, respectively, when I purchased them. However, toward the end, the wings had become cold and the beer hot.
However, both the wings and beer were simply approaching a thermodynamic equilibrium with the ambient temperature. In other words, even though the wings and beer approached the same physical temperature, they would be considered cold and hot (respectively) at this equilibrium point.
Just another example of how “hot” and “cold” are relative terms, not to be used in a precise discussion, at least without exact definitions.
If the fax machine had been invented before sliced bread, it would have been the greatest invention until sliced bread. The fax machine was great because you could send documents and images through a standard phone line, incurring only whatever normal charges were associated with a telephone call.
Today, in the 21st century, the age of the Internet, we still have fax machines. Why? There are Internet fax services available, but many of these provide a means of using the Internet to send a message to a conventional fax machine. Most of us don’t have fax machines, however; if we need to send a fax, we might run to Kinko’s and pay upwards of $1 per page. If I were instead to scan the pages and email them myself, there would be no charges aside from my Internet connection. Yet many companies insist on conventional faxes, (usually) requiring a conventional method of sending faxes. Obviously sending an email attachment may not be preferable, but the use of an Internet fax machine (that runs over TCP/IP) seems to me to be a logical choice in terms of flexibility and adaptability. High-speed Internet is everywhere nowadays, so why not have faxing get with the times?
The can of 7-up sitting on my desk advertises “Now 100% Natural”. But what exactly does this mean?
All of the matter present in our Universe came into being at the moment of the big bang. Nucleosynthesis in stars formed heavier elements out of hydrogen and helium, but no new matter has been created. So the use of matter in food/beverage products is always natural.
“Natural” might refer to the ability to find a particular ingredient in “nature”, but this becomes rather subjective. Is a bird’s nest natural? After all, the bird had to manufacture the nest. Or what about the bird itself? Three billion years ago, there were no birds on Earth–does this mean birds were a natural phenomenon that were not yet part of nature?
Perhaps then, “natural” refers to the absence of human intervention in a particular step of the product development. What happens, then, if chimpanzees are trained to manufacture products (7-up, or automobiles, or computers)? Do these products become “natural” by the lack of human involvement in production?
In any case, I grew up in the “land of 10,000 lakes” and never encountered a pond filled with the Uncola; the natural 7-up still remains elusive.
Such simple instructions, but you couldn’t follow them, could you?
A tree constructed out of a ferrous material is ironic.
Navigating in a foreign city can be a challenge–especially when there is a significant language barrier. Armed with the name of a famous duck restaurant written in Mandarin, we managed to hail a cab and arrive in the general vicinity of the restaurant. We still have no idea why the driver didn’t take us right to the restaurant, but no matter; we just harnessed skills that had been developed through a massive multiplayer online game–in my case, Dark Age of Camelot (DAoC).
When entering a city in DAoC, locating a particular non-player character (NPC) could be a bit daunting, as the 3-D cities were sometimes rather large and complex. Guards were very abundant, and evidently knowledgeable about the denizens of the city, and provided a means of deducing an NPC’s location. By asking a guard the location of a particular person, the guard would turn and point in the correct direction, as the crow flies. Sometimes this was through a wall or across an impassable barrier, but in all cases it was the correct direction. By speaking with multiple guards along the way, it was possible to deduce the location of any NPC in the city.
Back to Beijing, these DAoC skills came to be of use. We wandered from person to person, displaying our Mandarin paper along with a “lost tourist” expression. No one we met spoke English, but they could read our directions and point out the way. And eventually we made it, with a sense of accomplishment at having utilized our DAoC skills. Unfortunately, the journey itself was more enjoyable than the destination.
One of the great tragedies of the modern era is the loss of the genre of adventure games. You may remember such classics as Monkey Island, King’s Quest, Sam and Max, Space Quest, and others as being the source of both fun and frustration as you figured out exactly the right order in which to talk with people and use your items in order to complete a certain puzzle or task.
Perhaps these games do not provide an opportunity to showcase modern graphics hardware and algorithms (hence the flop of the 3-D Monkey Island 4), but the tactics involved in these adventure games has not been replaced with anything on the market. Yet the problem solving skills learned in this type of game are highly valuable in the “real world” when trying to locate information, objects, or people–especially in a large corporate or university setting.
Example: three years ago I was working as a research assistant in the UMN physics department. My advisor told me to get an electronic balance in order to make some measurements. I asked him where I could find one, and he replied, “Oh, somewhere in the building.” The ability to track down information in a vast dataset (such as a building or campus) is an invaluable tool, one which adventure games developed into something fun and entertaining. It is indeed sad that the children of today will grow up without a Guybrush Threepwood or Roger Wilco of their own.
This came up a couple of weeks ago as a “late night discussion” of sorts. We discussed various ethical systems, absolute versus relative morality, etc. When we came to personal views, here’s what I came up with:
1) Addiction is bad (of any kind, not just chemical).
2) Don’t take more than you need.
I’m not big on absolutes, so that pretty much covered it–any more specific and there become too many “special cases” that generalization is impossible.
Why do we consider fireworks to be festive and celebratory? Let’s take a stab at it.
The original, primal origin is found in the tribal human hunt. When these early plains-dwellers defeated their prey and returned home triumphantly, both the participants and spectators celebrated–not only because of the food acquired, but also because of the more general victory over an adversary. The hunt was perhaps equally valuable as a social tool as it was a food source, and the remnants of the excitement in such a primal hunt is still visible in modern athletics and other competitions.
The firework is essentially a destructive device, given its explosive nature. The act of exploding mimics the sense of victory gained over prey in the hunt (although prey very rarely explodes). An exploding object is completely and utterly defeated, having been fragmented and dispersed. The parallel with the hunt and/or war was made more apparent with the introduction of explosive weaponry. In celebration, fireworks are (generally) not used to cause actual harm, but they take on the role of pseudo-enemy. As the device explodes in the night sky–often with patriotic colors–the crowd cannot help but applaud at the ritualistic defeat of a foe.
You are not defined by what you do; but what you do reflects upon who you are.
(In Minnesota for the next two weeks.)
(Hello from Kuala Lumpur)
Many indigenous people groups are in danger of extinction, simply due to the spreading of agriculture and technology. Some of these people choose to adapt to the “modern” lifestyle, but others strive to maintain their ethnic and cultural identity, even if it seems a bit misplaced from a Western view. But inevitably, these cultures and people groups will disappear.
The loss of a culture is almost always sad, but this notion made me think in an evolutionary sense of protecting one’s genetics. In the case of a “doomed” people group, continued isolation will only lead to the dwindling and ultimate disappearance of a genetic pool. However, by intermarrying and possibly losing much of their cultural identity they would at least maintain genetic continuity in the increasingly global human gene pool. Again, I do not find cultural assimilation very tasteful or useful at all. But for example, in the case of China and Tibet, it is interesting to note that China’s attempts at encouraging intermarriage between Chinese and Tibetans is a double-edged sword: it will be successful in eliminating the Tibetian culture, but it will ensure continuity of the Tibetan genes. And from an evolutionary viewpoint this genetic continuity is a success, at least in one way.
Every now and then I come across a world map with the southern hemisphere on top. The point of such a map is not to increase functionality and/or readability, but rather to point out a “Eurasian bias” of some sort. Perhaps this approach has been a novel way to get some people to think a bit, but such maps contribute little more than this novelty. The most popular method of drawing a map is done because 1) most of the people are in the northern hemisphere, and 2) most of the land is in the northern hemisphere. One of these factors is human-dependent and the other is terrestrial-dependent. And since maps are generated for terrestrial creatures (and not aquatic life), putting the southern hemisphere on top only serves to make map reading more difficult.
(I have to admit that it is fun to look at the “bottom up” geography of the Earth, but the experience is almost always compromised because political boundaries are also drawn.)
A few million years from now (give or take), let’s say humanity has annihilated itself and evolution proceeds in other species. Perhaps dolphins would continue to develop their intelligence and maybe even have a technological revolution of their own. Of course, there is no reason to expect that advanced dolphin intelligence would have a lot of outward similarities to human intelligence, but there would likely be some. What about the urge to explore beyond one’s own environment? I imagine that these evolved dolphins would eventually embark on discovery journeys onto land, similar to our exploration of the oceans. And then…a dolphin space program? Just try and picture what that would look like!
In any group of people there are usually a few who like to try and “get ahead” by means that may be considered unethical. Rules and supervision can help deter some of these desires from manifesting, but inevitably some people will still try–and sometimes succeed. Laws can help maintain some level of order by prohibiting certain unethical activities, but they provide no real motivation to make an effort to ensure compliance. I suggest that we try fun.
As an active RPGA Living Greyhawk player and judge, there are many opportunities to cheat, if desired. The RPGA releases game materials to judges only, but it is not difficult to become a judge, and there is nothing physically preventing a judge from obtaining material for a game that they are going to participate in as a player. Furthermore, even simple conversation between players poses a potential problem: certain players may have played through an adventure and now know the storyline, pitfalls, and so on. By the official RPGA rules, these players are not allowed to discuss said adventure with any other players who have not yet played it. Of course, no one is walking around and enforcing this rule–yet players seem to follow both the spirit and letter of this law. Why? It’s simple: even though obtaining information before playing a game would be an advantage, it would detract from the fun of the game. There is no shortage of methods of cheating in this system, but the nature of the game almost automatically removes it as an option. After all, who wants to make something less fun for themselves?
This example is based on a particular game I am involved with, but I think it extends past recreation. Prohibition is sufficient to scare most people into obedience, but motivation based on mutual benefits is a far better enforcer.
Because fluid is best when properties are conserved. Every run-of-the-mill fluid gives you mass and momentum conservation, but Absolut Vorticity is a step above the rest. Just lay back and let the world spin around you; let Absolut Vorticity take you to a completely new frame of reference. Or, spin with the world for potentially neverending fun. Absolut Vorticity: well worth the advection.
0. Everything is determined by dice rolls. You almost never get to re-roll.
1. God does in fact play dice and often does roll out of view.
2. Most characters say they have a deity, but it’s only apparent when they’re about to die.
3. Paladins are annoying. Sometimes, it really is okay not to help the old lady cross the street.
4. You can dance if you want to (but it only looks good if you have ranks in dance).
5. If you tell people you are “chaotic neutral”, then you can get away with almost anything.
6. Sometimes you have to go out of your way to look for trouble.
7. Every now and then, it’s okay to do something just to show off.
8. It doesn’t matter how pretty you look; everyone tastes good to zombies.
9. When you and a halfling are fleeing from a dragon, you don’t have to outrun the dragon. (You just have to outrun the hafling.)
All through elementary, middle, and high school myself and other received a single consistent message about drug use: “just say no”. “Drugs” consisted of tobacco, alcohol, and all the “harder” stuff (but not caffeine). Drug campaign or not, I wasn’t planning on building a meth lab in my basement anytime soon, but it seems like “just say no” is a celebration of ignorance.
I am not suggesting that 5th graders smoke crack under the monkey bars during recess, but I think there is something to be gained from honest education of what these substances actually do. Whether or not teachers want to believe it, the reality is that some students will try drugs. “Just say no” seems to imply that all drugs are evil, almost on an equal basis–but some drugs are more equal than others. Why not an honest dialogue about how the various substances affect the brain and body system, the current state of medical research on long-term effects, and the addictiveness of the various substances? This doesn’t have to be a course suitable for MD’s; but there is a lot of information available that is not made easily accessible in DARE-type programs. Why? Well, maybe they’re afraid that students will try pot once they know it’s a safer drug than alcohol. But maybe, just maybe, these students would have tried pot anyway–but the new propaganda-reduced education would allow them to make more intelligent and informed decisions about use and misuse of this and other substances they come in contact with. Or they could keep “just say no” and get rid of the Coke machin