07/31/08 (#0304)  Sardines


(Re: TN 303)  What about empty space, huh? Isn't space just a bunch of points with nothing in them? - the Squirrel

Actually, no. Space is our perception (analogous to the perception of color) of the difference between addresses (locations) of things. (Note that differences have sizes). When we insert a thing into the space between two other things we're merely changing its address (relative to the other two things). - the Ed.


In the fall of 1939 the Nazis invaded Poland. We lived in what was then a western part of Poland (now just about the exact center). My father had excellent reasons to avoid contact with the Nazis so when the bombing started announcing their imminent arrival, we tossed what would fit into our little Fiat and headed east to find refuge with my grandparents who lived in the eastern part of what was then Poland and now is Ukraine. We just barely kept ahead of the bombs - actually a couple of times we were in the midst of them. But we made it in one piece to Lwow (now Lviv) where my grandparents lived, only to discover that the Soviets were in process of invading eastern Poland. My father had similar reasons for avoiding the Soviets and that same night he disappeared, without saying goodbye, leaving my mother and my younger brother with our grandparents. I did not see him again until January 13, 1948 when I and my brother arrived in New York (and met our third brother, but that's another story).

Throughout the war we knew nothing of where my father was or what he was doing. He simply disappeared. We prayed for him daily.

However, at intervals of several months or so, there would arrive a small package from someplace like Switzerland (which maitained neutrality and mail service with both sides of the war) with no return address but addressed unmistakeably in my father's handwriting. This was always a cause of great excitement and about the only mail of any kind we ever received. It was his way of letting us know he was still alive. It was also a clue to where in the world he was. Not Switzerland, the package invariably contained not chocolate but a can of sardines and the sardines were Portuguese. (He had actually spent much of the war with the French underground at the French-Spanish border).

The sardines were a rare and exotic treat - certainly the only sardines, indeed, the only foreign product we saw during the war. I never lost my taste for Portuguese (or Moroccan - they come from the same waters) sardines. Norwegian and Baltic sardines (smaller and skinnier and, I think, much less tasty) have no appeal for me. Unfortunately, at least in this neck of the woods, the northern sardines seem to be the preferred product. The Mediterranean ones are hard to find and expensive.

So I was overjoyed when the local Walmart started stocking Moroccan sardines at the incredibly low price of 50 cents a can. But this happy state of affairs did not last long. The sardines disappeared from the shelf. After many months, they reappeared at 60 cents a can. I wasn't taking chances. I stocked up. And sure enough, after a few more months they disappeared again.

The other day as I was strolling through Walmart I saw a clearance shelf set up and, what do you know, one of the items, the one nobody seemed to want (most of the other stuff was already gone) was the Moroccan sardines, now reduced to 25 cents a can (less than a dollar a pound). So I bought two flats of 24 cans each. Now I think I should have cleaned them out. Sigh...

Until tomorrow,

Paul W.




07/30/08 (#0303)  Pointless

Hedgehogs speak Punctuation?? - the Ed




Let me start by making a point.

                     .
                    /
        A point


A point, say the mathematicians who have thought deeply about this, is a location with nothing in it. There being nothing in it a point has no size - no width, no height, no depth.

With all due respect to mathematicians whom I love and admire I beg to differ.

Consider my point:

                      .
                     /
        My point

As anyone who reads this can see, my point has width and height and, with the help of a good microscope it would become apparent that it also has significant depth (the thickness of a pixel on your screen). In fact, my point is made of some rare earth and other metals and elements artfully deposited on the back of your screen.

"Ah," say the mathematicians, "but your bunch of pixels is not a point. There is no room for any deposits of elements, however rare, in a point. Your bunch of pixels extends over an area containing an infinite number of points."

OK, let's try something else. Suppose, instead of trying to mark a point with a bunch of pixels, I just point to it, like so:

             |
     __        __   Somewhere in there
                         there ought to be the point              
             |           to which I'm pointing
 
The problem is that the pointing lines are also made from physical pixels and obviously have thickness or you would not see them. Try as I might, I cannot make the pointing lines thin enough and their position precise enough so that they point to a mathematically true point. So I say to my friends the mathematicians: what you call a point can't be marked and it can't be pointed to. I claim, therefore, that it is pure fiction. There is no such thing as a location with nothing in it.

"Well, yeah," they say, backpedalling a bit. "A point is only an abstract idea. It's not a physical thing".

Then, I say, as long as we are describing the physical world (i.e. the world of our experience) we should not confuse ourselves by trying to think of it in terms of imaginary point locations. In the world of experience locations are the addresses of experienced "things" (phenomena). They do not exist apart from things that "occupy" them. And all things have size. That's the difference between geometry and physics. And it's huge.

That's my point.

Until tomorrow,

Paul W.



07/29/08 (#0302)  Serious business


(Re: TN # 301) Does the Nutshell word count include the Hedgehogese text or is that the "other text"? - the Squirrel

Only the Nut knows... - the Ed



There are three kinds of serious business and they all have to do with one's capacity for enjoyment of being (CEB).

The most primitive kind of serious business is based on fear of diminishment of one's CEB. It involves identifying the threats to one's CEB and developing strategies for disabling or destroying them. John McCain's bid for Presidency is an example of such serious business, extended to the entire nation as the "one".

The other two kinds of serious business are focused on enhancement of one's CEB. One of them, embodying the capitalist ideal, is based on acquisition, especially acquisition of power and control since the CEB is, at least to some extent, dependent on one's material resources and achievements. The neocon agenda may serve as an example of this type of serious business.

The third kind of serious business involves enlarging oneself as a means to greater CEB. How does one enlarge oneself? By incorporating into one's self more and more of what lies outside one's self including other selves. However, I don't mean devouring and digesting, I mean identifying the other as an integral part of one's own self, a part which, though integrated into the larger self, retains its full life, individuality and functionality (think federation of autonomous states or a family unit). This is what "to own" means (as opposed to "possess" or "control"). Another word for it is "to love". Converting enemies into friends and becoming one with them is an objective of this kind of serious business. Practical Christianity is an example. It requires openheartedness which in my book is the same as lightheartedness.

Until tomorrow,

Paul W.

07/25/08 (#0300)  Top Ten Tentative Reasons Why I Have Written 299 Nutshells


My thanks to MFR Rhoda for suggesting five (count them, five) ways to dispose of waste Art. My favorite: a party at which the guests decide what to keep what to toss. I would add a Special Party Rule: the person who decides an item is worth keeping has to keep it. - the Ed.


In TN  #296 I reminded MFRs (my faithful readers) that all I promised when I started the Nutshell was to be concise. I had no idea where I was going with it or why and I still don't. Actually, that's not quite true. I still don't know where I am going but by now I do have some tentative notions about why. So here are the Top Ten Tentative Reasons Why I Have Written 299 Nutshells (subject to revision without notice):

10.  To amuse myself (this is much more entertaining than crossword puzzles)
  9.  To kill time and avoid doing the chores
  8.  To amuse, astonish and annoy MFRs
  7.  Because some MFRs expected me to
  6.  Because I need a light but steady job
  5.  To keep my brains from drying up
  4.  To evangelize the Elements of Existence
  3.  To commentate on the tempora and the mores
  2.  To show off my well formed English sentences

And the Number One Tentative Reason Why I Have Written 299 Nutshells:

  1.  To find out what I'm thinking

Until Monday (the Nutshell is taking the weekend off),

Paul W.



07/24/08 (#0299)  Art disposal

I thought it best not to mention any names but since you did, let it stand for the record. Lisi is the one who thinks he can fit the universe into the E8. But he's a devout atheist and getting too old to surf - two strikes. - the Ed



I took Prickles, the hedgehog I live with, for a ride in my new car.

Me: "So, Prickles, what do you think?"
Prickles: "##." (not translatable into humanspeak)
Me: "Just OK? What about all the fancy new goodies? The burl wallnut finish, the built-in digital compass, the automatic rear view mirror, the illuminated visor mirrors, the sexy five speed manual stick, oh, and what about the sun roof, what about that?"
Prickles: "## ### ## ####."
Me: "Nice? Well, I'm glad you like the sun roof, you prickly little sun worshipper."
Prickles: "# ## ### ## ####."
Me: "Yeah, I guess watching the clouds is one way to entertain yourself on long trips - if it doesn't rain. As for me, I'm delighted to have at last a CD player and a real "Wow!" grade sound system. This will certainly improve my driving experience."
Prickles: "## ### # ##!"
Me: "OK, OK. I'll check with you before I play any CDs. But you like most of the stuff I like. Check the pick up!"
Prickles: "## ###!!"
Me: "You gotta hang on tighter! Maybe I can get you a little hedgehog seat to strap yourself in. You like the silver color? It will be cooler in summertime when you guard the car for me."
Prickles: "### ###."
Me: "You seem unimpressed."
Prickles: "## #### ### ### #### # ##."
Me: "It only seems the same as Art Cart II from your perspective. Yes, it's another Subaru Legacy - but it sure isn't Art Cart III. Look around - it's not a wagon, it's a sporty sedan."
Prickles: "#### ### ##?."
Me: "Don't worry, there is enough space for all your things. If need be, we can strap on an inflatable roof rack that will carry big items up to 180 lbs. That should be enough for anything you might want to bring along."
Prickles: "## ## ###?"
Me: "I'm sure"
Prickles: "## ### #### ##?"
Me: "Good question. I don't know. I'll have to sleep on it. You have any suggestions?"
Prickles: "#######?"
Me: "No. 'Hedgehogmobile' doesn't cut it."

Until Monday,

Paul W.





07/18/08 (#0294)  Theory of everything


In absence of new facts on the ground physics is currently stuck in a theoretical thicket. Some new info is trickling in from the observation of the sky and some more is expected from the new big hadron collider, but for the moment no data is available to break the impasse.

The current Holy Grail of theoretical physics is a Theory of Everything that would neatly and completely explain, well, everything. There are several competing approaches to the ToE, none of them as yet in their definitive final form and none of them testable. Which is not to say that there are no furious debates concerning their appropriatness as descriptions of what is actually the case (a.k.a. the "reality"). Tsk, tsk...

The debates, for lack of any other ground, are being argued on the ground of aesthetics (which should tell us something about the relative importance of reason and feeling). However, what the physicists call "beauty" and "elegance" is merely complex order and good fit. A poet's beauty is a balancing of order and chaos with power to surprise. The physicists, on the other hand, desire absolute predictability which is totally boring and, as a matter of fact, not found in the observed universe. (Poetry tends to be a better descriptor of particular phenomena than physics).

Some branches of mathematics, for example geometry, offer arbitrary degrees of complexity together with absolute predictability, in one package. That is an offer some physicists cannot resist. The current excitement is about fitting all that we can observe into one of those complex but perfectly determined geometric packages (one called "E8" for short). If it can be done, behold, we have our Theory of Everything.

Of course it can't be done - it's irrational to think that it can. For one, there's an item that stubbornly refuses to fit into any such complete scheme: the observation itself. Secondly, the probabilistic nature of the observed universe cannot be explained by any structure which is inherently complete, static and determined. Any model of the universe must be a dynamic one, capable of evolving with limited predictability as does the "real thing". (The "string"  theory which postulates that the universe is built up entirely of modes of vibration may meet that requirement). Finally, the mapping of "reality" onto the theory (and vice versa) can never be exact. A theory is not what is actually the case, it is only a tentative description. It is logically impossible for a theory to be a theory of everything. Some things are inevitably left out of the picture, things like the difference between the theory and reality which remains unknown yet real (otherwise the theory would become Truth, indistinguishable from the reality itself).

The observed universe does manifest some aspects of a geometrical construct but it also resembles an evolving algorithm with chaotic elements. The geometrical construct may be descriptive of the initial or some intermediate or local state of the universe but it cannot adequately explain the whole of the cosmic process. My advice to the physicists is to give up the silly notion of the ToE and be satisfied with progressively more accurate descriptions of what seems to be the case. This may be less than completely satisfactory, but what is?

Until tomorrow,

Paul W.




07/17/08 (#0293)  Farewell Art Cart II


Regular readers of the Nutshell may recall last fall's retirement of Art Cart I, my fairly faithful Ford Escort Wagon which was beginning to show signs of old age. Its successor, Art Cart II, took over the job most capably. A Subaru Legacy Wagon, it was more spacious, more powerful, and much more satisfying to drive. And its all wheel drive made real difference in the ease and safety with which I could climb out of my steep driveway onto the road. I loved it. A couple of days ago Art Cart II was totalled by a driver who failed to stop at a stop sign.

Once again I proved the old Polish proverb: "what's to hang won't drown". A difference of a split second would have the other driver hitting me broadside thus very likely ending my career as a human being. As it was, the other car, travelling at full speed, hit the very front of Art Cart II, just ahead of the wheel well, spending the force of the impact on spinning me about 120 degrees. I escaped with just a cut and a bruise. Art Cart II did not fare as well.

The question now is: do I want to stay in the art carting business or go for something that sips gas sparingly but is fun to drive (if there is such a thing). I decided on basis of my real world experience that I do want to stay with the all wheel drive. That limits my choices sharply. After scratching all the Audis, BMWs, and Mercedes Benzes what was left was Ford Five Hundred SEL and the Subaru family of all-wheel drive models. Allegedly Toyota Matrix, Saab 9-2X, Suzuki SX4, Pontiac Vibe and Volvo S40 can be also had with all wheel drives but I couldn't find any within 50 miles of Possum Hollow. On the other hand, there's quite a few Subarus to pick from and AWD is standard, not an exotic option.

It looks like I may wind up with a Subaru Impreza which is a slightly smaller and sportier version of the Legacy. Stay tuned.

Until tomorrow,

Paul W.




07/16/08 (#0292)  Yet another Magic Flute


I discovered that Netflix listed in their catalog of DVDs a version of "Magic Flute" I had not heard of. This is, I believe, a Danish production, filmed straightforwardly as performed in Drotningholm Court Theatre, a historical theatre in a historical royal court somewhere in Denmark. Europe has zillions of royal relics which are typically put to good use as venues for arts, performing and otherwise.

Of course, I had no high hopes for this production since I have yet to see a truly satisfying production of "The Magic Flute". Indeed, high hopes were not warranted. Still this production had some virtues (and faults) uniquely its own. It was worth seeing (and hearing) just for that.

Certainly the scenery and scene changing mechanics caught my eye. This was the smoothest, fastest, almost magical piece of stagecraft I have seen. It was not terribly complex but the many scene changes were carried out with speed and sleight-of-flats that defied the eye. The scene would change dramatically before one's very eyes without one actually noticing how it happened. Bravo to the technicians behind the scenes! However, the mystical trial scene was a scenic failure. The effects of fire and water were sub-minimal and firmly off-stage while sufficiently good acting on-stage to provide the drama was lacking.

I must say the monster was, at least costume-wise, one of the best I've seen. A bit small though and frightening more in looks than in action - it was too slow to be threatening. Generally, costumes and the scenery were good, particularly the scenery which had the look of an eighteenth century engraving. But Sarastro the sage and his retinue were characterized as practically youngsters - they lacked the look of awesome authority Mozart clearly intended. On the other hand, Sarastro was a magnificent basso profundo, best of the lot I've heard in this role.

The rest of the singers were unexceptional - serviceable. They did a competent if not compelling job of their various arias. Except, of course, Papageno and Papagena who, as usual, stole the show. They went at their roles with gusto and genuine bawdy fun and did a fine job of it.

Tamino was a fair actor, as were the Three Ladies and the Queen of the Night and the Moor. But poor skinny Pamina - she was dreadful. She went through the motions with excruciating artificiality. She utterly lacked the spirit of the heroine. She sang well but not amazingly well and the dismal acting was a distraction. She should stick to recordings. .

This is a lengthy version (2 hours and 40 minutes!) in part because a lot of dialoge was added in a brave attempt to make the action more intelligible (in which it only partly succeeds). The small orchestra, playing on period instruments, is dressed in eighteenth century styles complete with wigs with curls at the sides and beribboned pony tails in the back. It is all very European and very orthodox - nothing like the radical, iconoclastic version I have seen in Warsaw. That was something completely different.

Until tomorrow,

Paul W.



07/15/08 (#0291)  Power vs. the public


Democracy, like communism, does not work for groups of more than five, max. It is totally impractical for governance of states or nations. In the so called "democratic" nations, U.S.A. included, the democratic principle is exactly inverted: it is not the people's opinion that informs the actions of those in positions of power - it is the powerful who inform the opinion of the people. "Democratic" elections are about manipulating public opinion to secure the required majority of votes. That constitutes the art, craft and science of politics in a practical "democracy".

A major player in a "democracy" such as ours is what is collectively called the "media". The media are, as the name implies, the interface between the powerful and the voters. Although the media, like the voters, are constitutionally free to express their "true" opinion, that opinion is always subject to artful manipulation by the powerful. As close as the media come  to being a free marketplace of opinions, like any free market they can be distorted by deliberate misinformation.

The wide spectrum of opinions that can be heard on the media reinforces an illusion of democracy (anybody can say anything). However, the competition among opinions can always be fixed. In a close competition it doesn't take much to shift the balance one way or the other. A rumor, a minor scandal, an out of context soundbite (negative influences are much easier to come by and more effective than positive). The great thing about media is that they will report any damn thing at all, as long as it makes a good story. Analysis and fact-finding take second place to attention grabbing (media too have to make a living somehow). All in all, media are sufficiently malleable that those who know how to pull the strings can achieve their purposes.

In fact, people generally are not qualified to vote. Their un- or mis-informed opinions offer no valid basis for a rational vote. Someone has to shape the public opinion to produce a meaningful vote. In the end, the competition is not among various factions of the public opinion but among the shapers of public opinion, among those who actually wield power.

Still, you can't fool all the people all the time. The redeeming aspect of democracies is that if people get sufficiently fed up with mismanagement by those in power to come spontaneously together on an issue, they do have the power to effect a change in the government - for better or worse. Opinion shaping, like everything else, has its limits.

Happy Bastille Day! Until tomorrow,

Paul W.




07/14/08 (#0290)  "Galatea 2.2" 3.0 - the final report


(Re: TN #283) There are more human beings than planet earth can support given the current state of technology [and culture - the Ed]. All life impacts the environment just as the environment impacts life. We humans are changing the planet by virtue of our existence. The question is will technology catch up with the speed at which we are changing earth in sufficient time for earth to remain habitable? Or will we go the way of the dinosaurs and some other creature takes our place as the dominant species.  - Molly

Perhaps the computer? - the Ed.


Although the Pygmallion and Galatea myth is not explicitly mentioned or even alluded to in this novel, and the digitally created woman is given the name of Helen (presumably after Helen of Troy and, more recently, Helen O'Loy), "Galatea" is a pretty obvious choice for the title. But the "2.2" had me thrown for a loop. Why 2.2? There is no version 2.2 of any kind in the text. The various versions or implementations are identified by letters of alphabet (it was the implementation H that was named Helen). Finally, it struck me: 2.2 is one of those crazy crossword puzzle clues only metalinguistically (poetically?) linked to the text. It refers to the typically 22 year old English Master's candidates with whom Helen had to compete in the final Turing test (a test intended to distinguish between a computer and a human).

The Turing test pretty much ends the novel and I am not going to spoil it for you (should you wish to read it) by telling you how Helen did on the test. However, I'll tell you this: romance is only incidental though love is deconstructed in the process. This is an autobiographical meta-novel about writing a novel and Helen is equipped with tools for literary criticism. I suspect she could write a better novel than Richard Powers, the author/protagonist, which is not to say this is a bad novel. On the other hand, in the end, I learned nothing from it except to gain some insight into the mind of a novelist burdened with a Masters in English Lit.

Powers is essentially a seeker after meaning although God knows he projects meaning like crazy onto every event. I think that's poetry - making things meaningful by fitting them into pre-existing patterns from Literature and in any case seeing more in them then there is to see. But he only half believes his own projections, which, I suppose, is good. What is bad is that the novel is chockful of literary allusions which only a Master in English could decifer with the aid of extensive scholarly research. The characters speak only in allusions - God forbid they should state something directly. Many allusions are left dangling - what they refer to you just have to imagine. On the other hand, Powers does have a deft touch for a telling simile or a delicious metaphor (that even I can appreciate) when dealing with details of character and situation. Very Poetic. Very Literary.

The novel ends somewhat ambiguously with a potential for (but not a promise of) a happy ending. But that's Powers, still hopefully searching for a meaning for his life. The critics say the novel is "intellectually challenging". Yeah. You gotta have your English Lit down pat and be a master of crossword puzzles to really get your money's worth.

Until tomorrow,

Paul W.




07/12/08 (#0289)  Man the meaning maker


There are two kinds of people in the world: those who think there are two kinds of people in the world and those who don't*. But seriously folks, it seems to me people can be sorted into two fairly definite categories: those who seek meaning and those who make meaning.

The seekers are a bit of a pathetic lot. They are almost invariably disappointed. Those who start out as optimists end up as cynics. Some do claim to have found it and become prophets and preachers. Others fall under the spell of a maker or a prophet and become believers. Many just keep on wandering indefinitely in search of meaning and some of them write books about their quest, full of existential angst.

Not so the makers. Makers are almost invariably optimists who believe that whatever the world may be at the moment it is capable of being shaped closer to one's heart's desire. They trust their heart's desire implicitly and set out to reshape the world according to their vision of its meaning. The wonder of it is that they generally succeed, at least partially. Future, it turns out, is malleable, yielding to our will, not exactly but more often than not close enough.

In TN #288 I suggested that at the point of action we face a pentalemma with none of the choices offering a satisfactory solution. But there is a sixth way: choose your own future and make it happen. It matters less what or how we choose it than that we do choose, make our own meaning, and structure our own lives (usually learning and changing as we go).

Of course, we're not infallible. Our choices are fraught with error. However, we're not completely out at sea. There is prior experience, the knowledge base we've built up (as myth and tradition, as custom, as art and literature, as history, as scientific theory). And there's our heart's desire. All this is not enough to guarantee to keep us out of trouble but it is enough to give us a sporting chance. We're still here, a lot of us, and most of us glad to be.

Until Monday,

Paul W.
______________
* My mathematician brother offers this variation: "There are ten kinds of people in the world: those who understand the binary system and those who don't". (There are, of course, three kinds of mathematicians: those who can count and those who can't).




07/11/08 (#0288)  Master of the universe


Imagine yourself here and now about to take some action - perhaps lift a mug of java sitting on a table before you. Whatever you do, you are about to irrevocably change the universe. You are about to change the state of the universe, however infinitesimally (but remember the butterfly effect!). Once you have lifted that mug it is not the same universe that it was a second ago. (Of course the universe is changing all the time whether you lift that mug or not, but just now we need to focus on your personal contribution to the change).

So go ahead, change the universe! But before you do, consider exactly how you are going to accomplish this amazing feat. If you were a centipede and the action contemplated were your next step, you just might totally freeze and remain paralyzed forever. But I happen to know you are not a centipede and the task is to lift that mug of coffee. You can do it. Just tell me how you do it.

Here's my guess how your changing the universe is possible:

First, for some unfathomable reason or reasons you decide you need a sip of coffee at this very moment. That decision may well be entirely automatic, determined by a chain of cause and effect extending back to the Big Bang. We won't go into it (we have to keep this down to Nutshell size). OK, you want that sip. You have arrived at the moment of truth: now you need to act. You have analyzed the situation: there is the cup, here is your hand and arm, up there are your lips and the rest of your alimentary system - the mechanics are clear. How do you effect the required motions? How do you begin? Where's the start button? Who or what is going to push it?

There is the conscious experience of your desire for that sip of coffee and of your volition to do what is needed to get that mug to your lips. But nothing is happening yet. Somehow, your experience of desire must be translated into will, whatever that is (a commitment to act?), and this will has to be translated into actual mechanical action.

Let's postulate that "will" is a chemical state of the brain which triggers some kind of subconscious psychosomatic process which figures out a plan of action, strategically and tactically, then sends appropriate chemical instructions to the appropriate groups of muscles. All that is essentially mechanics and we won't bother with it here. The question is what brought about the particular "will" state? The desire for a sip of coffee. And what is that? In part it may be simple physiological need established by habit. But it goes deeper than that - it's a consequence of the general desire for wellbeing, for feeling good. By executing the action you will be changing the universe for the better, at least locally. You will be increasing your enjoyment of life.

Hold it! Not so fast. How dare you change the universe for your personal benefit without considering the far reaching consequences of your action? There may be more important issues at stake than your momentary gratification. Or at least as important. Time for another decision. I don't care what other issues there may be or what you actually decide. The thing is you have a choice before you: you can pick up that mug; or not. The consequences are not perfectly clear and both your knowledge of the present circumstances and your power to change them are limited. You can: a) make an educated guess, b) follow your "gut feeling", c) perversely go against your gut feeling (or your educated guess), d) toss a coin, or, e) commit suicide. The fate of the universe is in your hands.

Until tomorrow,

Paul W.




07/10/08 (#0287)  "Galatea 2.2" 2.0


This guy Powers (TN #286) is probably good at crossword puzzles. People with Asperger's syndrome (among which I count myself) have above average intelligence and above average analytical abilities but they are morons when it comes to crossword puzzles. No wonder I can't fight my way out of his metaphorical thickets.The other thing is he loves using abstruse literary allusions for which there really is no excuse (even though I do it myself all the time). Only an especially erudite English Master can fully appreciate his text. To the spottily educated me it's full of black holes where meaning disappears.

I'm soldiering on though. About halfway through now. The reason being twofold: on the one hand, I'm still interested in the outcome of the human personality simulation experiment and on the other, unexpectedly, I have developed an interest in the protagonist's romantic life the story of which is intertwined with the story of the abovementioned experiment. I will be amazed if these two story lines do not collide in a smash-up of a finale. The romantic story is actually warm and credible and tinged with sadness (this is a realistic novel, even if essentially speculative). Powers is not such a nihilist as he makes himself out to be, after all. He is capable of something like genuine love. He can even be funny - occasionally.

I still don't know what he is talking about much of the time, or else his remarks appear to be idiotic and without merit. Intense exposure to all that Literature probably addles many an English Master's brains. Look what happened to Don Quixote. But then, what do I know? (Speaking of "Don Quixote", Powers cites somebody's dictum that everyone should read DQ three times: once as a child, once in mature age and once in old age. I'm on my third reading, this time in Spanish). I think I'm getting to rather like Powers.

Still, he is a poet and even admits to it. His prose often verges on if not downright stumbles into poetry. There are poets I have no trouble at all understanding - the classics, most of the nineteenth century romantics and many of the early twentieth century moderns - but a great majority of contemporary poetry (including much though not all of Powers') remains to me as hermetic as a crossword puzzle, which, I believe, it is a species of.

Next report when I have finished reading "Galatea 2.2". Stay tuned.

Until tomorrow,

Paul W.

07/09/08 (#0286)  The joys and tribulations of reading


I am reading a most irritating book. It's a contemporary novel (I've taken to reading novels in my doddering days) written by an English Master. It is very Literary. As a consequence every second sentence is beyond my powers of comprehension and people talk in what I assume are metaphors but which register with me as non-sequiturs. I'd quit reading it if it wasn't for the fact that I'm getting enough of the drift of the writer's intent to want to know how it ends. And I keep getting hooked on an occasional lucid or almost lucid paragraph, especially where he is talking about science. (This is Literary Science Fiction, not your regular cosmic shoot'em up but a serious meditation on the possibility of creating synthetic human intelligence, a Pygmallion story as suggested by the title: "Galatea 2.2").

This only makes it all the more irritating. I am of the opinion that the style of writing is an unnecessary mannerism of an overeducated specialist. I don't think he is just showing off his "mastery" of English, I think he's been brainwashed to write Literature. The name of the author, incidentally, is Richard Powers - you may have heard the name. He has been, apparently, a Literary success. I can only guess that it must have been on the basis of solid ideas and skillful construction - it can't have been on the basis of his overbearing command of English. His sentences are clever to the point of unintelligibility, probably a Joycean influence. However "Galatea 2.2" is no "Finnegans Wake". It's actually more readable. For one it doesn't try to deal with all of creation all at once but is content to stick with its narrow subject. It's irritating for all that.

The other thing I don't like about the book is the author/hero's (Powers plays himself as the protagonist) existential angst. To greater or lesser extent we are all subject to existential angst and I already know everything I need to know about it. But Powers cultivates it, he makes a virtue of it. I know with absolute certainty, having only just started it, that the book will end as an existential tragedy. It's spelled out in the first sentence and paragraph. I'm not interested in reading existential tragedies but I am interested in the details of the attempt to create human-like intelligence and in Powers' take on what problems there may be with that. I respect his thinking if not his overlearned and depressive prose. It's a dilemma.

Incidentally, back in the innocent Golden Age of SF (as sci-fi was known then), Lester del Rey wrote a simple short story about a robot which has been given human emotions as well as human intelligence. It's not anywhere near as sophisticated as "Galatea 2.2" but it's a classic - told as simply as a fairy tale, and as resonant with human psyche as an ancient myth. It's title is "Helen O'Loy". It launched a thousand similar stories, including Asimov's epic future history of robots which culminates with an apotheosis of the robot as the superior being.

Until tomorrow,

Paul W.



07/08/08 (#0285)  The transcendental joy of being


My belief that the purpose of existence is to enjoy itself is by now well known to the readers of the Nutshell. Today I intend to meditate on how this is accomplished, that is, the mechanics of the joy of being (a.k.a. experiencing, which is the same thing: you don't experience, you don't exist & vice versa).

It seems eminently clear that there cannot be experiencing without consciousness, and vice versa. It is equally clear that it is nonsense to ask which came first, consciousness or experience. The two go inseparably together, you can't have one without the other. In effect, they are one and the same thing. This is a very important insight which has the power to clear up a lot of confused thinking about consciousness.

Let me deal right away with the objection you are about to put up (I can read your mind). What about those periods of unconsciousness like deep sleep or general anaesthesia or being knocked out? One does not cease to exist just because one is not conscious.

Oh but one does. Cease to exist, that is. "One" is the conscious persona which we identify as "I" or "me" or "moi".  This persona ceases to exist when one is rendered unconscious. It is taken apart into nonfunctional pieces, in effect, destroyed. Fortunately, our brains contain instructions how to put the pieces back together and restore the persona to consciousness, that is, to existence. What continues to exist when one is unconscious is the body (including the brain) and the ability to recreate the original persona (or a reasonable facsimile).

The body, of course, has it's own consciousness - what Freud labelled "subconscious". It's a consciousness on a far lower level that that of the persona, though it is still highly complex. When the body is taken apart into non-functioning pieces, what remains is the still lower consciousness of the individual pieces, and so on down to individual cells, molecules, atoms and  quarks. The new idea we need to grasp is that If it exists it must be conscious if only on a very elementary level like simply being aware of other particles in the nearby universe (and acting accordingly).

Actually, this is not a new idea. It is a species of "panpsychism" which has been kicking around in one form or another since times immemorial. As far as I can see it's the only plausible way of explaining the phenomenon of consciousness: by postulating that it is an elementary property of all that exists. Higher (more complex) levels of consciousness coalesce as higher organisms evolve until we reach human consciousness.

Consciousness, the capacity to experience joy, is one half of the mechanism of joy of being. The other half is desire. There is mechanical sort of desire like magnets "desiring" to cling to iron or hot things "desiring" to cool down or compressed gas "desiring" to expand. But the desire that is at the root of joy of being is the desire inherent in all that exists to enjoy itself. This desire reflects and mainifests the very purpose of the universe. Which takes us into the realm of transcendental metaphysics and matters of pure faith - a good place to stop.

Until tomorrow,

Paul W.



07/07/08 (#0284)  Beauty, grace and elegance


One of these days I'm going to prepare an "Index to the Nutshells". One of these days, if I don't die first. It would be handy when I'm dealing with frequently recurring subject matter to make sure I'm not repeating myself. (A blogging principle of mine heretofore unstated is "never repeat", except to review or remind in a preamble to something new). I have vented on the subject of beauty many times already. I think I remember what I have said about it so far. But I'm not about to search through the Nutshell Archives to confirm this so I'm just hoping your memory is worse than mine.

I think I defined beauty as "the sense of just the right balance between Chaos and Order", between freedom and constraint. As things become freer and more chaotic they become first ugly, then incomprehensible and finally imperceptible - fuzzed out into a blank fog.  As things become more orderly they become less interesting, then boring, and finally indistinguishable one from another, disappearing into the same blank fog.

Beauty, then, is a successful marriage of Chaos and Order, freedom constrained but not extinguished, an orderly repetition with unpredictable variations. We recognize the underlying rhythm, we are fascinated with its variations. A mix of the familiar and the new and fresh and evolving. (Like all experience, beauty is a dynamic phenomenon. It either grows or wanes or becomes transformed. It is not forever.)

There is something else to beauty besides a dynamic balance of pattern and variation. Beauty also has psychological significance. It has a meaning derived from association with memories of previous positive experiences, from a recognition of similarities to events then experienced. Hence the same object or scene may be experienced as beautiful by one person while another remains unmoved or perhaps is even repelled. Between the absolute sense of rightness (as undefinable as what color red looks like) and the association with personal memories, beauty is indeed in the eye, or rather, the mind of the beholder.

I am fond of the word "grace". It has several meanings and shades of meanings. But one of its most common meanings seems to refer to a special kind of beauty or perhaps special quality of beauty - a quality of effortless spontaneity, of lightness, of subtlety, of particular appropriateness or sensitivity to the present situation. Of course, grace is as subjective as beauty itself. However, there is no such thing as "graceless beauty". Beauty is on the same spectrum as ugliness and becomes ugliness when it looses all its grace.

"Elegance" is another particular (and subjective) quality of beauty. It has to do with the economy of means with which beauty is achieved, or, rather, perceived. Our minds seek beauty, extracting it from the chaotic context, in fact, creating it by adding contents of our minds to the incoming sense data and precipitating what was only an unrealized potential for beauty. Rendering the realized beauty gracefully and elegantly into a purified, explicit form intelligible to others is what Art is about. At least, some of it.

Until tomorrow,

Paul W.



07/05/08 (#0283)  Interesting times


"May you live in interesting times!" is the well known Chinese curse. I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but we have some interesting times ahead.

You may have heard of a fellow by name of Al Gore and his slide show. I haven't seen it but I don't have to. I do have the advantage of some scientific training but it really doesn't take science to figure out what's coming. The facts are out there for all to see. And they are no longer news - everybody knows about global warming by now. So what's the bad news?

Here it is:

1. We depend on oil to maintain the civilization as we know it. We can't continue to live in the manner we have become accustomed to without oil.
2. We are not going to change our ways voluntarily. We will only change if we are forced to, when we no longer have a choice.
3. There is still lots of oil in the ground, even though it's harder to get at. There's even more gas, and coal enough for centuries to come.
4. We will continue to use fossil fuels but not until we run out of them - we will never run out of them. What will happen instead is that the effects of global warming  will set off a global recession the like of which we have not seen. We'll be hurting. And that is what will finally  put an end to the oil era.

Is it possible to avoid this fate? Yes, but it would require unprecedented global cooperation and serious changes in lifestyles everywhere, especially in the developed countries. It would require development of new technologies which would wipe out the profits of oil producers and processors. And it would require commitment of about 1% of the world's total GDP for next several decades to pay for the make-over of the world's energy infrastructure. All that starting now. The time for quibbling has run out.

Is this likely to happen? Is it likely that pigs will evolve wings and start to fly?

Until Monday,

Paul W.



07/04/08 (#0282)  Stillness


Today is the day most Americans spend living in the moment, relaxing, not going anywhere, just enjoying being here-now in America, a fairsized chunk of the planet's land mass that we have made our own, a part of our self. We practice a kind of stillness (for which we make up by making a lof of noise after dark) and there is (or can be) a joy in it.

Stillness is not stasis, lack of movement. Stillness is a dynamic process but one that is perfectly balanced and harmonious - characterized by a lack of noise, distraction or anxiety. Like a perfectly tuned engine which makes no noise and does not vibrate but is still though running, we can maintain stillness even as we act - indeed, it is the most efficient way to get results.

To see the world as well as we can so that we can appreciate and enjoy it as much as we can we need to be still. But that does not mean we come to a stop. It means we are paying attention. We give ourselves over to the experience of being such as it is, without obscuring it with unnecessary chatter and noise. When we are still, paying attention, our experience of the world expands - we become aware of things and processes we did not know were there. And most important, we see the world as it is rather than through a foggy, distorting filter of preconception and belief.

There can be intensity in stillness - we see more clearly, we experience more intensely when we are still. But we often mistake the contents of our minds for the experience of the world. If we lock onto our thought processes instead of the immediate experience of the world, we miss it and soon become bored or lost in thought. Focusing attention on what is actually happening, thinking only as necessary to choose an appropriate action, this is the way of stillness. Balanced, concentrated, alert and noiseless.

Allright, enough with the stillness already. Go nuts! Happy Fourth of July!

Until tomorrow,

Paul W.



07/03/08 (#0281)  Hold the Hitchcock!


(Re TN 280)  It seems to me some people experience mere reduction in their pain and anxiety as enjoyment of life. - the Squirrel

Conversely, some people experience a reduction in their pleasure and delight as suffering. "Joy" and "suffering" are relative terms referring to opposite directions on the same spectrum of human experience. It's not just our relative position on the joy-suffering spectrum that determines how much we're enjoying life (or suffering) but also our movement along the spectrum. As long as we're moving (on the average) away from suffering towards joy we feel that we are enjoying life. Remaining in the same place on the spectrum, however, no matter how exalted, soon grows stale. But the joy-suffering spectrum is not one-dimensional. There are many different ways we can appreciate life. We can shift from a dimension where we are stalled or pushed back to another where progress is still possible. - the Ed


OK, so I have a weak constitution. I'm your 97 lb (I wish...) weakling from the Charles Atlas ads (you people probably don't know what I'm talking about, you're all too young to remember Charles Atlas). I'm a classic anti-athlete with aversion to any kind of physical effort. Body building has never been on my short, long or any list of things I'd touch with a ten foot pole. Lacking a chick magnet type body I compensated with "inner values" with decidedly mixed results but that's another story. (Curiously, I'm probably more fit now than I had ever been - which isn't saying much - thanks to doctor ordered regular gym workouts).

But it's not just my muscles that are weak - so are my nerves. And childhood experiences with bombs probably left me with a bit of a permanent PTSS.  The bottom line is I cannot deal with high suspense or realistic violence in movies. I can't deal with war movies, I can't deal with gore-fests and horror movies, and above all I can't deal with Alfred Hitchcock's movies. This is a compliment to Hitchckock, to his high mastery of suspense. He has my greatest admiration for his craftsmanship but I will not watch his movies. Ever. Period. I am still haunted by the memories of a couple of his movies I did inadvertently see.

I stick to comedies, intellectual dramas, visual extravaganzas (love old Hollywood musicals), science fiction space operas (but not those verging on horror, such as "The Alien"), happy fantasy films and fairy tales. I do, however, enjoy an occasional film noir or a mystery. when it is very well done.

Also hard on my nerves (and my patience) are films whose stories are based on cruelty or stupidity of the characters. Give me something inspiring or admirable - I don't need to watch sickos or morons screwing up. I find it neither instructive nor entertaining, merely irritating.

By the way, Prickles agrees with me.

Until tomorrow,

Paul W.



07/02/08 (#0280)  How do I know I am enjoying my life?


This, actually, is not a stupid question. In fact, it is such a profound question the answer may not fit into a Nutshell, but we'll have a go anyway.

What does it mean "to enjoy life", anyway? Well, to put it as simply as possible it's to feel good, mentally and physically, as we go about doing what we do. Of course, I cannot explain what "feeling good" is like any more than I can explain what the color red looks like. But we all know the feeling. It's a sensation of rightness, satisfaction, pleasure, of everything going as we think it should. It's being pleased with ourselves, with what we are doing, experiencing and expecting. A sense of being in the right place at the right time doing the right thing. A sense of worth, of significance and importance. A sense of meaningfulness. of purpose, of knowing where we are going and why, and of confidence that we can and will get there.

How do we come by such a positive feeling? And how can we maximize it? That is the big question. Feeling good is a complex, multilevel and dynamic process and a great many factors contribute to it. There are the basics like good health, good information, pleasant environment, no imminent danger of any kind. Then there are weightier considerations like social approval, power, control, effectiveness. And, above all, the ultimate purpose of our actions and their appropriateness.

These last two are fundamental - it's where we begin. Once we know the what and the why, we can work out the rest according to our abilities and opportunities. So the question "am I enjoying my life?" reduces to "am I achieving my objectives?", "my objectives" being "what my heart desires".

We're still not out of the woods. For most of us, what our heart desires is not at all obvious because it is obscured by environmental noise. And it's in the process of discovering what we truly desire as opposed to what we may have been made to believe we should desire that we often make costly and even fatal mistakes. The terrorist bomber believes she is fulfilling her purpose in life, that her enjoyment of life is measured in the numbers of killed and injured. The sadist believes his enjoyment of life is measured by the amount of pain and horror he can inflict on his victim. The bully believes that enjoyment of life consists of being able to push people around. Collectors believe that enjoyment of life is proportional to the number and preciousness of the objects in their collection.

And then there are people who work hard with minimal resources against great difficulties who seem to derive great joy from life.

So what is it that we truly desire and how do we discover it? How can we know we are truly enjoying life? Most of us experience moments when we simply know but these are usually fleeting moments quickly overcome by our habitual, pre-programmed mode of seeking satisfaction in life. A few of us know from the beginning and, undeterred by world's distractions, go for it directly and wholeheartedly. I envy them. For the rest of us it's a matter of trial and error. If we're lucky we may find a guide and a mentor to help us along the way. Most of us are still looking, prey to false prophets and quick buck artists (who believe that enjoyment of life is in taking advantage of others' confusion). We take refuge in established religions and other respected sources of practical wisdom. Eventually, many of us do find our way to at least partial knowledge of our heart's desire. We call it maturity.

Until tomorrow,

Paul W.



07/01/08 (#0279)  Idealism, cynicism and pragmatism


Hey, you're a day late! - the Squirrel

So sue me. Actually I have an excellent excuse: the day before we arrived back at Possum Hollow where Prickles and I live it had been savaged by a violent storm with near hurricane winds. The Chalet is OK, no trees were downed on our lot, but the power and phone lines were down. It could have been worse and was for some residents whose houses were damaged or destroyed. - the Ed.


Happy Birthday to the creative soul of this lively blog. I hope Prickles is providing cake and candles or at least a verse of "For he’s a jolly good fellow" in keeping with the occasion. May the festivities find you dancing naked in the woods with champagne and the goblins whistling "Je ne regret rien" or the Spanish equivalent. Best returns of the day.  - TABS

It was a good birthday and Prickles was there as were my family and friends in spirit and in person. I do appreciate my blessings. - the Ed


We are, as frequently noted in the Nutshell, animals with angelic aspirations.

Now, being an animal is a wonderful thing. Yes, hunger and mortal danger are everyday facts of animal consciousness (except for domesticated animals under human care) but the joy of being alive makes life unquestionably worth living. No animal, with sole exception of homo sapiens, has any doubts about it. 

Although in h. sapiens the tools of high intelligence and rational thought were evolved to improve its chances of survival and to enhance its quality (i.e. enjoyment) of life, this has turned out to be a mixed blessing. Among other things, the potential for suffering has been equally enhanced. To be or not to be, that is the question raised on this planet exclusively by h. sapiens.

Our imagination allows us to extrapolate from the experience of the joy of being an ideal of good life without suffering to which we aspire even though we can neither describe it rationally nor attain because it does not and cannot exist. Nevertheless, we actually feel deprived and often strive mightily to approach that ideal as closely as possible. "Ah, but a man's reach should exceed his grasp, or what's a Heaven for?" mused Andrea del Sarto in Browning's poetic portrait of him.

Of course, we fail. Man's inhumanity to man remains an ironic fact. We continue to commit horrendous crimes in the name of humanity, for the sake of our ideals. We see this. We are not stupid, we are h. sapiens and our reason tells us this is bullshit. The temptation is to react by shedding all "angelic" aspirations and to accept the hard fact of our animalhood and be content with it. To deny all ideals as worse than worthless and live a simple animal life albeit enhanced by application of rational thought "as nature intended" (though your classical cynic would deny any intent on the part of nature).

The problem is, try as we may, we are not and will never be content with being mere rational animals. This is our curse and perhaps our blessing. There is a middle way. We need our ideals, but we must recognize them for what they are: unattainable and unreal. The moment we start believing in them as absolute necessities we become unreal ourselves. As long as they remain moveable visionary guideposts always subject to reality check - am I really enjoying life more? - our ideals reflect our heart's desire for ever greater joy and our faith and hope that it is possible.

Until tomorrow,

Paul W.