Category Archives: GeekWorld

Elemental

Summer                                                          New (First Harvest) Moon

I found this delightful article by Oliver Sacks a couple of days ago.  The whole is well worth reading.  I’ve just copied an excerpt.

The Joy of Old Age. (No Kidding.)

By OLIVER SACKS
Published: July 6, 2013

“LAST night I dreamed about mercury — huge, shining globules of quicksilver rising and falling. Mercury is element number 80, and my dream is a reminder that on Tuesday, I will be 80 myself.

Elements and birthdays have been intertwined for me since boyhood, when I learned about atomic numbers. At 11, I could say “I am sodium” (Element 11), and now at 79, I am gold. A few years ago, when I gave a friend a bottle of mercury for his 80th birthday — a special bottle that could neither leak nor break — he gave me a peculiar look, but later sent me a charming letter in which he joked, “I take a little every morning for my health.”

So, in addition to 66 being my age and the age of the UFO phenomenon, 66 is also the element number of dysprosium.  It’s an interesting element, and not in a great supply, “dysprosium comes from the Greek dysprositos (δυσπρόσιτος), meaning “hard to get.”  Like many of the rare earths and metals it is found mostly in China, 99%.

“…the wide range of its current and projected uses, together with the lack of any immediately suitable replacement, makes dysprosium the single most critical element for emerging clean energy technologies.”  Wikipedia

I have not, so far, dreamed of dysprosium, but who knows.

 

Out There, Man

Summer                                                New (First Harvest) Moon

66 years ago today news began to leak out about an incident at Roswell, New Mexico.  Roswell Army Air Field (RAAF).  The UFO incident and later reporting of more and more sightings has never fully abated.  Classed with conspiracy theorists and aluminum foil hat guys for most of that time, there has nonetheless been widespread public interest as signified by the number of Hollywood movies on the theme:  Close Encounters, E.T. and many, many others.

Even Carl Jung wrote a small book on the UFO phenomenon, characterizing it as a contemporary search for the numinous, a spiritual yearning at its heart.

It struck me today because, well, I’m 66.  That means the UFO story and I share a common chronology.  It even got intertwined when in 1957, at the age of 10, my friend Mike Hines (mentioned earlier in regard to explosions) looked up in the sky one clear August evening, we were standing in my backyard on Monroe Street, and saw three cigar shaped objects in the sky.  Sure, cigar shaped objects were popular then, exactly the same of passenger planes, still pretty uncommon at the time.  But here’s what got Mike and I reported in state and national newspapers:  we saw these cigar shaped objects go behind the moon.  And come out the other side!  And yes, in retrospect, I can see it still.  The blue dark sky, the full moon, the objects slowly moving toward the moon, then disappearing, only to reappear a bit later.

Here’s something else.  My life span also covers the golden age of space travel, when men dared for the first time to fly in rockets out of the atmosphere, when they orbited the earth and eventually both went to the moon and landed on it.  That time is in the past now with space travel reduced to expensive rocket-powered trucks delivering and retrieving guests from an international space hotel.

 

 

Garden Diary: Beginning of the Soil Drenches and Foliar Sprays

Summer                                                            New (First Harvest) Moon

When we installed the landscaping, we asked for low maintenance.  I still remember the skeptical look on Merle’s face.  “Well, I can make it lower maintenance, but there’s no such thing as no maintenance.”  In those first years I deadheaded, sprayed Miracle Gro, pruned the roses and planted a few bulbs.

Gradually, the land drew me in and I got more interested in perennials of all kinds bulbs, corms, tubers and root stock.  Fall became (and remains) a ritual of planting perennials, most often bulbs.  Fall finds me on a kneeler, making my prayer not to the Virgin Mary but to the decidedly unvirgin earth.  Receive these my gifts and nourish them.  And yes, I agree to help raise them.

Kate always planted a few vegetables but at some point we merged interests and expanded our vegetable garden.  That was when organic gardening, permaculture and now biodynamics began to interest us.  We futz around using some organic ideas like compost and integrated pest management, some permaculture design with plant guilds and productive spaces closest to the building that supports them and now some biodynamics (or whatever the right term is).

As I understand it, biodynamics works to produce the highest nutrient value in food by moving the soil towards sustainable fertility. This requires applications of various kinds of chemicals, yes, but in such a way as to increase the soil’s capacity to grow healthy, nutritious food and to do that in a way that maintains the soil’s fertility from year to year.

This is very different from modern ag which has a take it out and put it back approach to soil nutrients.  In that approach modern ag focuses on nutrients that produce crops good for harvest and the farmer and food company’s economics, not the end consumer’s dietary needs.  Biodynamics works at a subtler level, looking at the whole package of rare earths and other minerals necessary for healthy plants and the kind of soil conditions that optimize the plants capacity to access them.

Today I did a nutrient drench called Perk-Up.  A nutrient drench goes onto the soil and encourages optimal soil conditions, a large proportion is liquified fish oil and protein.  I also sprayed on the leaves and stalks of all the reproductively focused vegetables a product called brix blaster which encourages the plants to focus their energy on producing flowers and fruit.

The whole vegetable garden got Perk-up.  The reproductive vegetables in our garden are:  tomatillos, tomatoes, eggplant, peppers, sugar snap peas, cucumbers and, for some reason, carrots plus all the fruits.  I only sprayed the vegetables since the strawberries have just finished bearing and I haven’t decided whether or not to spray the orchard this year.  Since I made up more than I needed, I also sprayed all the lilies which are heading into their prime blooming weeks just now, plus a few other miscellaneous flowers blooming or about to bloom.

Tomorrow I will spray another product that encourages vegetative growth on the appropriate vegetables:  kale, onions, chard, beets, garlic and leeks.

This year my overall goal has been to jump up a level in the production of vegetables, increasing both quantity and quality without increasing the area planted.  Next year I’ll continue what I already think is a successful program for them and expand to the fruits and, maybe, at least some of the flowers.

As I’ve said elsewhere, horticulture is a language and it takes time to learn.  The plants and the soil speak to me all the time.  I’ve had to immerse myself in a lot of different disciplines to learn their language.  I’m not a native speaker, nor am I completely fluent but I’m well past the beginner stage.

 

 

Mathematics Makes No Sense

Summer                                                                              Solstice Moon

Found this via Big Think, which excerpted from this blog at RealScience, Newton, which listed the 10 greatest ideas in the history of science.  This one, #10, was the one that surprised me the most, especially the part about transcendental numbers.

(archimedes cigar box label)

I could, but won’t, challenge the list save to say this:  discoveries in so-called fundamental sciences like physics are neither fundamental nor necessarily the most important.  Evolution, listed as #1, is of the type I would tend to seek for my list of 10, those discoveries that lie in the complex world well above the world of elemental particles.  This list suffers from the reductionist bias of much of western science.  (we can discuss this at another time.)

“Fundamentally, mathematics makes no sense. That probably doesn’t come as a surprise to those of us who struggled in algebra or calculus. Though it is the language of science, the truth is that mathematics is built upon a cracked foundation.

For instance, consider a number. You think you know one when you see one, but it’s rather difficult to define. (In that sense, numbers are like obscenity or pornography.) Not that mathematicians haven’t tried to define numbers. The field of set theory is largely dedicated to such an endeavor, but it isn’t without controversy.

Or consider infinity. Georg Cantor did and went crazy in the process. Counterintuitively, there is such a thing as one infinity being larger than another infinity. The rational numbers (those that can be expressed as a fraction) constitute one infinity, but irrational numbers (those that cannot be expressed as a fraction) constitute a larger infinity. A special type of irrational number, called the transcendental number, is particularly to blame for this. The most famous transcendental is pi, which can neither be expressed as a fraction nor as the solution to an algebraic equation. The digits which make up pi (3.14159265…) go on and on infinitely in no particular pattern. Most numbers are transcendental, like pi. And that yields a very bizarre conclusion: The natural numbers (1, 2, 3…) are incredibly rare. It’s amazing that we can do any math whatsoever.

At its core, mathematics is intimately tied to philosophy. The most hotly debated questions, such as the existence and qualities of infinity, seem far more philosophical in nature than scientific. And thanks to Kurt Gödel, we know that an infinite number of mathematical expressions are probably true, but unprovable.

Such difficulties explain why, from an epistemological viewpoint, mathematics is so disturbing: It places a finite boundary on human reason.”

Source: Galileo’s Finger: The Ten Great Ideas of Science by Peter Atkins

The Ultimate Traveler

Summer                                                                             Solstice Moon

In my own travels I often look to find myself as the other, therefore to see myself more clearly.  When in Angkor, for example, the quarter mile long bas relief sculpture, which culminates in the churning of the sea of milk by Vishnu, made the religious worldview of these 1100 A.D. Khmer Hindus evident.  What they imagined, I could see, just as a visitor to any Catholic church can see paintings of saints, views of the Last Judgment, or a man on a cross, covered only with a loin cloth, a crown of thorns on his brow.

On the streets of Bangkok vendors sold for less than twenty U.S. cents fruits I had never known existed:  jack fruit, durian, dragon fruit.  Alleys less than three feet wide ran between store fronts filled with men’s, women’s, children’s clothing, plumbing supplies, watches, toys, home furnishings.  The crowds packed into the places were large and hot.  Not at all like the Mall of America.

(Voyager’s 1 and 2 at the heliopause where the sun’s magnetic field hits the pressure of interstellar winds)

But.  There is no place on earth I can go where the influence of the sun cannot reach me.

Now this 35 year old pilgrim, on a trek to San Arcturus, or a Holy Well in the midst of the Orion nebula, will soon leave the sun’s influence behind.  Forever.  No magnetic field.  No warmth.  The heliosphere in the rear view mirror.  The solar system in the rear view mirror.  At least as we know it.  The Oort cloud is considered by some to be the true outer boundary of the solar system, but that boundary is still some 14,000 years away.

This human artifact has positioned itself as other by virtue of its madeness.  It was not crafted by the furnaces of the big bang, or the stellar ovens that crunch out elemental particles.  It was not made by the collision between planetary bodies or asteroids or volcanic activity.  No, it was made by human beings out of materials created in all those ways.  And now we have returned them to their origin, refashioned and able to talk about their experience.

But, ironically, Voyager is, exactly, the universe reflecting on itself, seeing itself, knowing itself.  Its pilgrimage is the same one Apollo inscribed on the doorway over his Delphic temple, Know thyself.  Only in this case the pilgrim is the universe, voyaging not to experience itself as other, but as its self.  Thus, Voyager can be seen as a metaphor for our inner journey, where we try to move beyond the Oort field of the Self, in order to better know the Self.  An equally daunting  trail.

GFI!

Summer                                                                  Solstice Moon

We are in the realm of the sun.  Heat and light.  Green and growing things.  Long days and short nights.  Glad to be here and glad it’s a short time.  Heat oppresses me much more than cold, which goes a long way to explaining why I continue to live here.

Captured energy from the sun comes in many forms:  sugars, carbohydrates, meat, gasoline, heating oil, wind, hydrological.  Among humans a favorite form of storing and dispersing the sun’s energy is the generation and distribution of electricity.

Even in the heat and light though access to electricity can vanish.  Be cut off.  Just ask the folks in Minneapolis after last weekend’s storm.  We rely on regular electricity for our air conditioner, refrigerator, freezer, computers, kindles, televisions and various other small appliances and lights.  It’s an important part of our life.  I couldn’t write and distribute this blog without it.

And it works well nearly all of the time.  But when it doesn’t.  Uh-oh.  That’s why we wentto the expense sometime ago of installing a natural gas powered generator connected to the gas line feeding our home.  We would have no water. (We have our own well.) No A.C.  No lights.

The electricity was not flowing along the circuits necessary for our irrigation clock and out to the machine shed aka honey house and the kid’s playhouse a ways beyond it.  Had to be fixed, especially the irrigation clock.  The white haired guy who ran electricity to the playhouse and installed some lights for us came out.  We wandered around, guy time you know.  Hmmm.  Head scratching.

In both cases thank god it was g.i.f. related, that is, ground fault interrupters had tripped.  I didn’t know there was one in the garage; it’s hidden under shelving.  One fix.

The sheds. I know about the g.i.f.s.  There are two, one in the garage and one in the shed.  I had reset both of them and still couldn’t get power to either shed.

“It’s confusing,” he said.  Each building has to have its own cutoff switch, a switch that turns off power to the whole building.  The switch in the honey house has only that function, but you can turn the light off in there by either the pull chain or the switch.  However, once the switch is thrown all power is off the honey house.  So, if you use the pull chain, the light won’t light.  And, if you turn the bulb off with the pull chain, even restoring electricity to the shed with the switch won’t turn it on.

And.  The playhouse gets its power through the same line as the honeyhouse.  So, shut the switch off in the honeyhouse and no power to the playhouse.  Plus.  The playhouse, as a separate building, has to have a main power switch.  Which it does, sitting right next to the light switch and looking identical to it.  Can you see the confusion here?

So.  I went out to both sheds and put blue masking tape over  each of the main power switches.  This will reduce the likelihood of anyone using them as light switches.  Which starts the whole cascade over again.

And all this just to distribute what the sun offers free to us all.  Strange, isn’t it?

It’s the Bomb!

Beltane                                                                           Solstice Moon

Friend and Woolly Tom Crane read my reference to the nuclear option (pulling pants down) in a previous post and reflected:  “Some folks in the fifties saw the results firsthand [of the nuclear option] and got up from the table saying “we just can’t do this, cause look what we are doing:  we could destroy the planet in just an hour or two!”

See this clip from a test of the first H-bomb.

He then went on to observe that we can’t go somewhere, say the Bikini Atoll of the Marshall Islands, and watch the degradation of the atmosphere by carbon pollution or the over fishing of the oceans or consumption of fresh water at a rate the skies cannot replenish.  If we could, he wondered, might we come to the same conclusion, that this, too, is madness?

And could we, also, become aware of our co-creative powers in that very destruction as we switch on the air conditioner, drive to the store for a loaf of bread or eat cod?  An intriguing and thoughtful idea.

Are You An Infovore?

Beltane                                                                          Solstice Moon

So many information sources, so little time.  Those of us who are indiscriminate infovores have entered the paradise period of the human era.  It’s not only the internet, though it looms very large in easy access to information (see the snapping turtle info below), it’s also the smart phone and the services that disaggregate television programs and resort them into chunks we can watch all at once with no commercials.

While the physical information stream has begun to dwindle like an old man’s (oh, no, I won’t go there.), the condensation and availability of information continues to accelerate.  The mail box has little of interest anymore and the post office is beginning to hear the hoof beats of the Pony Express.  And books.  Heavy physical paper things.  So yesterday.  Meanwhile, I can get TED talks on so wide a range of topics that interest me that I can spend all day watching them.  And not get anything done.

And there’s the youtube talks I just signed up for from Big Think, mentors giving advice about their areas of specialty.  Also, I get e-mails from Foreign Affairs, the Chinese Human Rights folks, Big Think, Brain Pickings, Delancy Place, NASA, Trendline and others I’ve forgotten, each one with interesting, compelling information about things I didn’t know I had an interest in, but suddenly I do.

Managing our information streams is not something any of us have been trained to do.  Yes, we were taught to read.  And an increasingly small number of people read an increasingly large number of books.  But who was taught to watch youtube videos.  or TED talks.  Or to sort out condensed information like the folks from Big Think and Brain Pickings offer up for germane and reliable data.  Who can manage–and interpret–personal information available both to us as individuals and increasingly to government and large corporations?

Notice that I haven’t mentioned podcasts, audio books or the extraordinary ease with which we can receive music tailored to our tastes.  Pandora.  Playlists on I-pods.  Classical or current or jazz or oldies radio stations  Neither have I mentioned my all time least favorite, the robo-call.  Or, the old fashioned, but still extant slow information venues like theaters, museums and sports arenas.  Real time entertainment?  Now there’s an idea.

I’ve not got a handle on this and I don’t know who has, though I’d sure like to hear from them.  I’m eager to get as much information as I can, but now, like never before in all of history, the inflection is on the can.  And the limits on our capacity to get information are now chronological more than anything else, i.e. we can’t have our ears and eyes occupied 24/7.  God forbid.

How do you manage your information streams?  Or do you?  Do they manage you?  Leave you exhausted?  Or, energized, better informed and more able to be what and who you want to be?  An interesting dilemma of our time.

OMG.  How last century of me.  I left out social media.  Twitter, Facebook, this blog for example.  And, I thought I was being clever in inventing infovore.  Nope.  It’s the title of a book on Amazon.

Teslamania

Beltane                                                                        New (Solstice) Moon

If you don’t know much about Nikolai Tesla, or, even if you do, this will blow your mind.  I promise.   Click this link to read it.