Scientists closer to developing invisibility cloak

OK.  I gave you a link to the jetpack last week.  We have robots on Mars.  Voyageur is in the Oort cloud, beyond the solar system.  We get most of our communication via satellite links.  The best telescope in the world is not on the world, but above it. My destktop computer is more powerful than the big, room-sized computers of yesteryear.  Cameras no longer require film.  Movies and music come on frisbees.  People carry their telephone with them and have their own numbers.  There are many cars on the road that no longer run exclusively on internal combustion engines.

Not to mention Booger and his mistress willing to ski down Everest nude with a carnation in her nose.

We’re living in the future.

WASHINGTON (AP) – Scientists say they are a step closer to developing materials that could render people and objects invisible.

Researchers have demonstrated for the first time they were able to cloak three-dimensional objects using artificially engineered materials that redirect light around the objects. Previously, they only have been able to cloak very thin two-dimensional objects.

The findings, by scientists at the University of California, Berkeley, led by Xiang Zhang, are to be released later this week in the journals Nature and Science.

The new work moves scientists a step closer to hiding people and objects from visible light, which could have broad applications, including military ones.

People can see objects because they scatter the light that strikes them, reflecting some of it back to the eye. Cloaking uses materials, known as metamaterials, to deflect radar, light or other waves around an object, like water flowing around a smooth rock in a stream.

Metamaterials are mixtures of metal and circuit board materials such as ceramic, Teflon or fiber composite. They are designed to bend visible light in a way that ordinary materials don’t. Scientists are trying to use them to bend light around objects so they don’t create reflections or shadows.

It differs from stealth technology, which does not make an aircraft invisible but reduces the cross-section available to radar, making it hard to track.

An Existential Chill

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We will never be an advanced civilization as long as rain showers can delay the launching of a space rocket.  George Carlin, RIP

The drum tower in Beijing.  Anyone who’s gone on the one week quickie tour of Beijing and environs has at least had a chance to climb it.  As early as the Han dynasty (206bce to 220ace), these towers used drums and bells to mark dawn and dusk. Kate and I climbed the drum tower when we visited Beijing in 1999. (I think it was 1999.)  I recall it as a dusty place with open areas used for storage, like an old barn.  Three stories high it had a commanding view of a market and one of the old style Beijing neighborhoods.  We were there at the end of December and the drum tower was cold in the way only bare, featureless spaces can be cold.  A sort of existential chill.  Maybe Kate didn’t go up, I do not remember now.

The death of Todd Bachmann, CEO of the premier garden center corporation in the Twin Cities, shocked me.  Many of our plants started their life at Bachmann’s.  Long ago in another life I was in a year long class with a Bachmann who had chosen the Lutheran ministry.  Then, too, there is the somehow stronger link with the site itself.

So often when events happen abroad, they happen in a place that is at best abstract:  Darfur, say, or Baghdad, Ossetia, even Jerusalem.  Once you have been there, walked those streets, seen the heaped up spices and vegetables in the market near the drum tower, then what happened is no longer abstract or far-away because the context is available to your own sensorium.  My feet recall the climb in the cold December weather.  My eyes recall the sights of the market and the small shops.

A strange sense of lassitude has come over me today.  On Sunday I do not work out, so there is a feeling of expansiveness, but also relaxation, a similarity to the sabbath.  The weather is perfect, moderate, sunny, low dew-point.  A great day to work outside, but digging out the firepit seems to have used up that motor for right now.  Even so, I’ll probably pick up the spade and spading fork and begin removing day lilies to new locations.

This is a task that has a window, a window created by the ideal time to transplant iris, August.  In this way my time must conform to the garden.  It is a happy bondage, though, and one to which I willingly submit.

Home Alone

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Kate’s been gone since Thursday morning.  I miss her.   There’s always a certain frisson being home alone, for a bit, but it fades and then missing her kicks in.  We talk things out, watch each others backs, fill in each others life.  Happily married, I’m happy to say, 18+ years and counting.

Bumped the irrigation system up to 150%.  The rain has been scarce to none.  We’re in a severely dry period.  The grass has begun to turn brown, even with regular watering.  The crops need water now because many of them come to maturation in the month of August and early September.  Having our own well is a blessing when it comes to irrigation, it means we don’t have to worry about drawing down the city wells or abiding by their sprinkler rules.  Even so, I wonder about the water table and if our use of the sprinklers and our neighbors affects the city as a whole.  Don’t know enough about hydrology to know.

A few of the Olympic events were on TV, but women’s soccer, the early rounds, and volleyball do not draw me.  The sports I enjoy are the track and field events. Even there, the participants are, for the most part, unknown and will not become visible again until the next Olympics.  I suspect I’m not the only one who does not enjoy sports where the narrative line has no visibility most of the time.  One of the things I enjoy about football is the back story I know from years of paying attention.  Almost none with the Olympics.

Up too late. Again.

Dig In!

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More empathy for the sandhogs and ditch diggers from the old sod who threw the new sod.  The pit is down as far as I need to take it.  Kate and I have to decide now how we want to trick it out.  Stone?  Metal?  What kind of seating?  Cooking? When she gets back, we’ll figure it out.  She’s the detail person, the finished carpenter to my laborer. 

The notion of standing stones in the yard still draws me, makes me want to find the right ones, ones that look like the standing stones in England, Ireland and Brittany.  I haven’t put a full court press into it, but I will here at some point. 

This afternoon after the nap I’m going to sterilize the hydroponics and set little cubes of various kinds growing in the nursery.  I plan to have salad material growing, probably all but tomatoes.  They will await another iteration of the hydroponics. 

An African object written up, then back to the novels.     

The Pre-Season

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The Vikings.  Tavaris Jackson looked improved, just as the pre-season hype has it.  The first string defense failed to impress, though Jaren Allen showed his quickness.  Pat Williams did not play tonight, so that made the run defense a lot weaker.  Berrian, Wade and Rice showed some promise as receivers and Maurice Hicks as a running back.  It’s true.  I can’t hide it.  I enjoy watching football.  There, I said it.

Talked to Kate.  She had Gabe and he cooed over the phone.  Ruthie was asleep.  Humphrey, as Ruth calls her, had a lump, had it biopsied and it came back cancerous.  That meant oncologists and surgeons today, so Kate got to watch Gabe and Ruth while the daycare lady went to the hospital.  Kate was ready.

Du Fu, Li Bai and Wang Wei

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Each day of the Olympics I will post a poem from a famous Chinese poet.  Du Fu, Li Bai and Wang Wei are the three most admired T’ang dynasty poets.  It is so easy to forget that this last century is only a tiny portion in the sweep of Chinese civilization.  In all the sturm und drang about the rise of China the fact that China has risen and fallen many times over the last 5,000 plus years often remains buried.  That’s right, 5,000 years of a continuous culture, sometimes dominant, sometimes ruled by foreigners, many of whom embraced Chinese civilization.

It is arrogant of us to judge China by our standards, standards that have stood nowhere near the test of time.  In China the collective always comes before the individual, at least that has  been true historically.  This is not to say that there have not been individualists in Chinese history.  Taoism tends to produce them, as does the famous literati system of rule by intellectuals.  Many painters and poets also walked their own distinctive paths.

Well, anyhow, China doesn’t need my defense.  I just want to add a bit from the depth of Chinese culture as we go through Olympics which often seem more about air pollution and human rights than sport.

Yes, I know.  This seems like a conservative position, but in reality it is a position informed more by anthropology and history, a position not too different from walk a mile in the other person’s moccasin.

I spent an hour or so this morning admiring the work of the Irishmen who dug ditches.  Put the shovel in the earth, push it down, lift it up, heave.  Repeat.  Not back breaking, but a workout.  I had a good nap.  The fire pit has begun to appear.  It will be deep enough for a fire when the Woollies come, though whether the area around it will be is another matter.

How I Work

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“More Americans are likely to suffer kidney stones in the coming years as a result of global warming, according to researchers at the University of Texas.”  Agence France-Presse, July 2008

N.B. All these quotes about global warming come from this website:  The Warmlist.  Here’s the webmasters explanation:

“This site is devoted to the monitoring of the misleading numbers that rain down on us via the media. Whether they are generated by Single Issue Fanatics (SIFs), politicians, bureaucrats, quasi-scientists (junk, pseudo- or just bad), such numbers swamp the media, generating unnecessary alarm and panic. They are seized upon by media, hungry for eye-catching stories. There is a growing band of people whose livelihoods depend on creating and maintaining panic. There are also some who are trying to keep numbers away from your notice and others who hope that you will not  make comparisons. Their stock in trade is the gratuitous lie. The aim here is to nail just a few of them.”

So, don’t say I didn’t fess up.  The Star-Tribune turned me onto this site.

Shifted focus. Gonna work on that firepit.  I decided Kate can help me transplant day lilies when she gets home and I’ll still have time to transplant the iris.  I get on a task and sometimes don’t lift my headup to check whether it makes sense.  Heresy Moves West is an example.

The research alone would take a good bit of time, I knew that.  That meant I could not hope to research and write it in the week prior to September 14th.  Knowing that I began to develop this knot in my to do lobe.  It began to insist, get it done.  Get it done now.  Right now.  This even though the date was 8 weeks away at the time.  Anyhow, I finally opened up and let the lobe have its way.

Once begun, research and writing, at least for me, need to be one fluid motion, the research followed by the writing.  In my case this is because as I research various ways of slicing and dicing the information comes to me throughout. At night before I go to sleep the data often floats up and demands consideration.   Sometimes I make note of these patterns, sometimes not.  Often I don’t because I want the order and interpretation fungible to the last possible moment.

Why?  In between the research and the writing there is a creative time in which the data and the various arrangements of it begin to pull other information, other paradigms out of my memory.  This process can change the data’s relevance.  Let me give you an example.

At first I imagined a straight chronological presentation.  The Unitarians began at such and such a place at such and such a time.  The westward expansion of the US began in this time period.  It rolled out according to these stages, in this place at this time and another place at another time until the whole shebang ended up encountering Minnesota. This came to me first because historical movement often seems cleanest presented in chronological order.

Soon though, as the pieces began to swirl, it became clear to me that the historical progression would have to start earlier, then even earlier.  I wrote about this a while back, my need for context.  When I realized there were big ideas at play here, the order of things changed again.  Then it was a history of ideas approach that made more sense, capturing the development of the peculiar notion of religious freedom in the US.  As that became clear, a second important dynamic rose to the top, the rolling dialectic between orthodoxy and heterodoxy.

To highlight the ancient character of this dynamic I decided to find its beginnings in the Abrahamic tradition with Abram’s call away from polytheism to allegiance to YHWH.

Both of these decisions meant that the data in the presentation would have to show how the westward movement of heresy (the rolling dialectic of orthodoxy and heterodoxy in Unitarian history) advanced thanks to the first amendment and how it continued the long arc of dogma challenged by new thought.  This lead to the realization that the westward expansion of heresy intensified in the  atmosphere of freedom and pioneer energy found on the frontier.  So, when we end up in Minnesota, the presentations show how religious freedom and the rolling dialectic not only manifest themselves here, but in fact gain strength and intensity.

Finally, that lead to a desire to push the dialectic one step further, beyond the bland everything’s in bounds soup of current day Unitarian-Universalism to the articulation of a new heterodoxy, one opposed to the dogma of one size fits all faith-lite.  This piece is the unwritten one at this point.

It Forces Me Into the Present

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If you’ve ever wondered why I put all this weather and astronomical data first, good question.  The immediate answer is because I can.  My weather station gives me all the top line data with the exception of the Celtic calendar period, but I know those by heart now.  The moon names fascinate me so I have several lists of names from all the over world, and I choose one that feels right for the next month.  The lists that usually have the one I want are the Celtic, medieval English, and neo-Pagan, although I always feel a little strange with the last one because I don’t understand the roots.  The moonrise and moonset I got from a Naval Observatory website that creates a list for your location.

The secondary answer lies in weather history.  When I read back over my entries, I want to know what the conditions were like on the day in question.  Again, you ask, why?  Sometimes for gardening reasons.  Sometimes to jog my memory.  Sometimes just for fun.

The tertiary answer, though it may be the primary one, is this: it forces me into the present, right down to the temperature and barometric readings.  I like the reminder that this moment is this moment and no other.  Right now is right now.

Kate’s in Denver.  The dogs are asleep and the HD box has a so-so sci-fi movie on record so I can finish when and if I want.

A wonderful night and a good looking day tomorrow.  See you then.

Moving

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First Quarter of the Corn Moon

Think of how stupid the average person is, and realize that half of them are stupider than that.  George Carlin, RIP

Finally.  The first drafts of Heresy Moves West and Heresy Moves West II are in the digital file cabinet.  They did not end where I had  hoped though they cover in very broad strokes the topic I set myself in the beginning.  There is a third, unwritten piece that will continue the Heresy, adding one of my own, or, at least, one articulated in my own voice.  I will not start on that one anytime soon, however.

Tomorrow AM I plan to take shovel in hand and get to work moving day lilies.  This is so I can clear a raised bed of its iris and true lilies by moving them where these hemerocallis live right now.  Kate wants hemerocallis to fill the bed out front because she’s tired of weeding that large island east of the driveway.  Can do, and I’ll get a start on the morrow.

Onto the treadmill.

A Romantic Hymn to the Universal and the Particular

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“The eyes of others our prisons; their thoughts our cages.” – Virginia Woolf

In this case you have to remember that Virginia put rocks in her pockets and drowned herself in the closest flowing water.

Here are some notes.  A new direction for liberal religion.  Cosmology:  a nature centered (including humans) faith that has local manifestations, i.e. this galaxy, this solar system, this planet, this nation, this province, this place, this particular location. (Our Town)  Anthropology:  we are universes,   one self, many selves.  Whitman.  We grow toward a Self that can contain and nourish all of our many selves, yet paradoxically extinguish them all.  Existentialism.  Nexus.  Ethics:  the Iroquois medicine man at Theology in the Americas.  Soteriology-see ethics and anthropology.  A decadent salvation, from stardust to stardust.

We must answer the thin faith of the empiricist, the sad faith of the secular humanist, the mad faith of the fundamentalists and the mind-only faith of those outside the faith traditions of their youth.  Our response, our new direction folds together the empiricist and the humanist with a pagan lovesong, a romantic hymn to the universal and the particular.  Its flower symphony trumpets forth from home altars all across the globe, a fragrant and colorful melody that weaves us all together, a magic fabric with each individual, yet each part.

This has legs in my heart, it wants to run and jump and play with others.