Category Archives: GeekWorld

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.

Glad They Didn’t Name It After The Titanic

Beltane                                                             Early Growth Moon

Asteroid 1998 QE2 to Sail Past Earth Nine Times Larger Than Cruise Ship

“On May 31, 2013, asteroid 1998 QE2 will sail serenely past Earth, getting no closer than about 3.6 million miles (5.8 million kilometers), or about 15 times the distance between Earth and the moon.” nasa

 

Third Phase: Robots

Beltane                                                                                   Early Growth Moon

Frank and Me is an engaging movie with a quick plot twist at the end that caught me napping, but the intriguing question raised is Frank’s relationship with the robot his son gives him to care for him.

Like most technophiles robots have been on my mind for a long time. Forbidden Planet came out, for example, in 1959 when I was 12.  I read I Robot before that. At the time they seemed much more science fiction, probably only science fiction.  In fact, it is very difficult to convey today the gap between many of those things we saw as science fiction and any reality we ever expected to experience.  Space ships?  With humans aboard?  Moon landing?  Video phone calls?  Robots?  Come on.

As a child of that era and a science fiction oriented one at that, imagine my delight when we land roving robots on Mars.  Mars!  Or, a human made machine leaves the solar system.  The Oort Cloud!  Calling my brother in Saudi Arabia and my sister in Singapore, with moving pictures and both of them on the screen with me at the same time.  Get outta here.

When it comes to the question of how much care we can offer the elderly through robots, I’m jumping up and down.  Let me at’em.  I don’t want to plan robberies with one like Frank did, but I can easily imagine a relationship with a robot.

Some people, Frank Langella, lead actor in Frank and Me among them, think those kind of relationships should be with humans.  A recent Wired article suggested that a fuzzy robot sold now as a companion for Alzheimer’s patients may work too well.  People talk to it.  They bemoan the relationship people might have with the robot.

Why?  I mean, it’s not like we’re going to send people robots and then say, “Now, you have your robot.  Let’s not ever hear from you again.”  No, the robots will be part of a care-giving strategy.  Perhaps they’ll do household tasks and some particular care-giving like medication administration.  Perhaps they’ll be dialogical, with a capacity for learning and different accents.

We pay home health care aides around $20,000 a year.  And there are fewer and fewer signing up for the jobs.  It’s not hard to see why.  This trend has accelerated just as the number of elders in our culture will increase enormously.  I’m glad the Minnesota legislature voted to let child care workers and home health care workers organize.  If they can get better pay, benefits and training, we’ll have more people wanting the work.

But my sense is that even if that sort of improvement changes their lot somewhat, it will still not be enough to meet the needs of people who. like myself, want to age in place.  We can do it, but most of us will need help of some kind.

(Hector, a mobile assistive robot and smart home interface for the elderly.  forbes magazine)

It seems to me that a joint work force of robots and better paid home health care aides is a big step toward solving the problem of affordable care for the rapidly increasing elderly population. And I will welcome it.

I think back to Alvin Toffler’s Future Shock.  He suggested we were moving toward a High Tech, High Touch society.  That is, the more technologically sophisticated we become, in the same proportion we become eager for human contact, need human contact.

Those who write about the elderly and robots always seem to paint things as either/or.  Either we increase the number of in home health care workers or we use robots.  No, we’ll do both.  And we’ll love it.

I want mine for my 70th birthday.

 

About Time

Beltane                                                                              Early Growth Moon

I have stood on the shore of time itself, looking out on the broad sea that laps upon its sand, the vast space ocean, touching all, then circling back, once more to the beach where time rests, gay umbrellas stuck here and there, the men and women in bathing suits, swim suits, bikinis, nothing at all.  No children, just the adults of this one tribe, homo sapiens, from this one lonely outpost, away there in a long arm of the Milky Way Galaxy, nothing special as things universal and cosmic go, just conglobulated star dust.

They watch, as I do, the darkness and the many lights, those stars, those other suns, in other galaxies and those we can see only a tiny, tiny fraction of the whole though we strain these eyes of ours, a gift from the home planet and its billions of years of effort to create one who could see it back.

We watch, the ape that walks and talks, thinks, sees, laughs and cries.  The arms and the legs and the mind and the heart of this universe, allowed here on the beach so we can act out our purpose, seeing the rest, looking for all this, back at all this, born of star dust and doomed or fated or blessed to return.

I have stood on the shore of time itself.  And so have you.