History

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“And how do we keep our balance? That I can tell you in a word…”

Hello again.  It’s Friday now, as usually happens immediately after Thursday (but also six days before Thursday, though not the same Thursday it follows).  It’s all very reassuring, this regular, cyclical procession of the days of the week…

…isn’t it?

Well, maybe it would be if they weren’t just arbitrary day names following an arbitrary convention of numbers of days in a week, which number was mainly based on the number of “unfixed” astronomical objects visible to the naked eye:  Mercury, Venus, Mars, Jupiter, Saturn, the Sun, and the Moon.  Some of our modern English day names still refer to those objects, namely Sunday, Monday, and Saturday.  The other four, somehow, got saddled with references to Norse mythology.

I guess the Vikings really did have a significant impact on the British isles, didn’t they?

Anyway…

As I said, it’s Friday, and it’s the end of the typical, traditional work week, though I am working tomorrow, so I expect I’ll probably be writing another post.

It is interesting to think of what we mean by “tradition” and “traditional”, because not all traditions are of the same order by any means.  For instance, the “traditional” five-day work week is not really all that old.

Previously, people worked more days and longer hours per week (unless they had no need to work), but various workers’ rights movements over time got various laws passed and then new “traditions” began, and to some degree, people’s quality of life was somewhat protected.  Also, in the US, benefits like health insurance were tied to long-term employment by union contracts and sometimes by legislation.

Then, of course, we rebelled against being told that we could not work longer hours without special, extra compensation.  Why, that made our businesses less able to grind ahead and innovate and compete in global markets of various kinds (or so it was said).  We wouldn’t want that!  So, first salaried people were sort of exempted from the rules, and then that spread in various ways, as businesses and related enterprises tried to compete for more money, more resources, more power*.

Except, of course, plenty of other people and companies and countries were competing as well, so there was never any singular advantage that lasted for long; instead, like trees that evolved to grow taller and taller to compete with other trees for sunlight (while the other trees were subject to the same pressures), they raised the minimum requirement merely to stay alive, to which they were all subject, making life harder for each and every one of them, even the “winners”.

Such are natural equilibria.  Just because they become stable and persistent and “successful” doesn’t mean they are not immiserating for every organism in their structure.  And, of course, it is possible for such equilibria, as for species and for cells, to evolve to extinction.

Evolution by natural selection does not plan ahead, and it is neither benevolent nor malevolent, but it is instead entirely and completely uncaring**.

A somewhat parallel process happens in economies at various scales.  It’s not a perfect analogue, for there exists the capacity to learn from others’ practices without having to reinvent everything oneself, and one doesn’t have to wait for new generations to enact even small adjustments.  But it is still fundamentally a mindless process overall.

And, most pertinently, the mutual competition involved leads to higher and higher minimum requirements for success.  You’ve heard of the glass ceiling, of course, but even more subtly horrifying is the spike-ridden, trap-door-bearing, caustic and red hot floor.

I don’t know, maybe those metaphors don’t quite work.  I’m making these expressions up as I go along, as happens with all my blog posts.

I just wanted to remind everyone that nothing in the way the world is set up‒or, well, at least very few things‒is a necessity in anything but a highly local sense.  “Best practices” are not something inherent in nature; our financial and banking systems are not in any way equivalent to fundamental physics.  It’s all ad hoc, spontaneously self-assembled, no more inherently fundamental or necessary than is any one particular pattern of frost on a window pane.

So, don’t be fooled by the tendency to follow traditions, at least not blindly.  The oldest traditions humans have are only a few thousand years old, which is tiny compared to how long humans have existed.  And most traditions are far more recent.

Maybe your family has or had a tradition of getting together to watch The Ten Commandments every year around Passover/Easter.  But that tradition clearly cannot go back to before the movie was made, nor‒even more restrictive‒before televisions were available to most households.  That’s barely a few generations.

So, traditions are only as important as they are good and useful, though those measures depend very much on who is measuring and what the perceived use and good is from that person’s point of view.  That’s okay.  We don’t have any objective, external measures to use for such things.  They were invented by us, and for the most part, are only pertinent to us.

The universe doesn’t give the slightest f*ck.

Maybe, someday, the distant descendants of humans will gain so much knowledge and power that the universe will “notice” them.  I’m not going to hold my breath.

*The actual events involved in all this were far more involved than may seem implied by my summary, but I’m not trying to capture historical minutiae.  Rather, I’m trying to illustrate, to sketch, the general shape of the things that happened.

**This is not to be confused with saying that successful organisms are uncaring.  Caring, mutual support and protection, cooperation, love, can all be very successful survival attributes.  But that cooperation, that familial support, that maternal caring, that mutual love, as the case may be, does not exist just because it’s nice, or because it’s moral, or because it’s necessary; it exists because, for those organisms in those times and circumstances, it is successful, i.e., it tends to increase the odds of reproduction of the genes that engender that set of attributes.

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The footnote may make the best point in this post

Well, it’s the start of another work week, and it’s also the start of another month‒June, in case you don’t know.  I wouldn’t say it’s a “work month” since there are no real non-work months.  Though in some cultures, there is (or was) at least a part of this month when people took several days off.  The time around the summer solstice was, in some cultures, a festival time.  They even suspended the counting of the months at that point, to make up for the 5 days (6 on leap years) left after 12 thirty-day months.

Actually, I don’t know for sure if any real cultures did this, but the hobbits of the Shire, in Tolkien’s world, did something like this, and I have long thought that it seemed like a nice way to go.  However, apparently taking 5 days off completely in the middle of the year‒at the beginning of summer, though it’s sometimes called midsummer‒would fall afoul of commercial pressures, much as have most holidays in general in the modern world.

There is too great a perceived disadvantage to taking any time off when one’s competitors are working (and that perception is probably not entirely illusory).  So, one business working on the holidays is liable to spawn others who wish to compete.  Those that don’t may be less likely to survive ceteris paribus.

And the implementation of the decision to work on holidays is made by people in echelons so far removed from the consequences of overwork and the rat-race-ification of daily life that they feel no pressure not to grind their employees into dust; there are (so far) always more potential employees, and the stockholders only pay attention to the last three months if that when deciding how to tell the boards of directors to act.

It’s not so much that (as many young people seem to suspect) capitalism is an inherently evil system‒it is not.  It has indeed contributed greatly to the productivity and prosperity, to the physically good, that exists in the modern world.  But it is not a perfect system.  Or rather, it is a system that is useful for what it does, but it does not encompass or elicit or create all the good things that humans might need to prosper in any thoroughgoing way.  How could one expect it to do so?

Humans are displaced and distributed hunter-gatherers from sub-Saharan Africa; the “modern world” is an epiphenomenon that has developed and grown and is continuing to develop and grow and change, after have been created‒without any prior planning nor understanding of what it is or its implications‒by humans who were, as at all times, working almost entirely under the influence of local incentives and disincentives.

No one designed the world economy, nor any local economy, nor most of the other trappings of civilization.  I almost wanted to add “any more than any ant designs an ant hill”, but the human society/economy is far less a preplanned thing than is even the most haphazard ant hill or termite mound or beehive, for those structures are guided rather specifically by instincts selected and honed over countless generations and eons.

No human society has been in any kind of equilibrium anywhere near long enough for it to have had a very strong evolutionary impact on human attributes.  Some of the pre-civilization eras of humanity endured and were consistent enough to have impacts, certainly, but nothing in culture since the dawn of agriculture has stayed the same long enough for humans to adapt to it biologically in any significant way (though there are probably some effects).

I’m not sure what point I’m trying to make here, except perhaps to remind people that we should not expect pure capitalism and/or free markets alone to be perfectly conducive to every aspect of human thriving in and of itself.  It is useful and productive, far more so when dealing with primate hunter-gatherers than is any kind of pure socialism or communism, let alone any brand of authoritarianism or totalitarianism.

But there are certainly socialistic things that can be added as tweaks, if you will, to a society that is productive of goods and services thanks to capitalism, to try to counteract the tendencies of unregulated capitalism to produce inadequate and counterproductive* equilibria as well as uncompensated externalities.

We shouldn’t expect society to be simple, nor for any one notion of things to be adequate to ensure or even encourage health and well-being and flourishing in the people in the society.  This all relates to my earlier point about how all ideologies are wrong.  There are unlikely to be any simple answers that describe and ensure beneficent and productive cultures.  Like a building that exists for decades or centuries while still being used, there is going to need to be constant maintenance and updating and sometimes even rebuilding of portions that are crumbling.

It’s that or just knock the whole thing down‒but don’t expect to be able to build anything better from the wreckage.  The same forces and principles will apply to your new edifice as applied to the old one.

*They are counterproductive to the great majority of people in such cultures, at least.  There will often be individuals who do very well even while participating in the stagnation of such detrimental equilibria.  Someone who accumulates great wealth‒and, thanks to that wealth, can gain more, and so on, perhaps creating a monopoly‒might consider the system just peachy, at least for them.   But hoarded wealth does not do anything to contribute to an economy.  It’s like biological energy (calories) stored as nearly-impossible-to-mobilize fat.  Indeed, the stagnation of oligopolistic economies may have many similarities to someone who is obese and in a profound state of insulin resistance but with pathologically high insulin to compensate, so they cannot release their stored energy and feel miserable and constantly fatigued despite having plenty of calories in their bodies.

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It’s the end of the week, but weakness persists

It’s Friday again, at last, and this is indeed the final day of the work week for me.  I am not expected to work tomorrow, and I think that even if they decided they were going to hold the office open tomorrow, I would not go in.  I am too tired and dispirited to once again throw myself into the gears of the machine just because other people want me to do it*.  Honestly, I feel it’s more likely that I’ll throw myself into real machinery than that I will go to work tomorrow.

Speaking of such throwing, as I was leaving the train yesterday evening, I found myself looking under the engine, seeing where the wheels meet the tracks, and wondering if I would have the guts just to lay my head across the track‒my neck, really‒and let myself be run over.  It would be a quick death, I suspect.

I don’t think I have the guts, though, not right now.  Also, it would be rude to screw up people’s commutes.  But it does carry a weird kind of perverse attraction.

Nothing else of interest is happening, really.  Well, perhaps one might concede that there are many interesting things happening, in the sense of the old curse, “may you live in interesting times”.  Unfortunately, even those types of interesting things that are happening are so…well, almost so trite, so pathetic, so contemptible, so predictable, so “been done already”.  None of the weird, would-be interesting, things that are happening are impressive in any sense.

Okay, well, I’ll concede the relative interest and impressiveness of the Artemis II trip around the Moon recently.  It would be more interesting if it hadn’t been something we’d done literally before I was born (3 months before, to the date, for Apollo 11’s landing), using computer systems that were‒to use the most conservative definition‒28 iterations of Moore’s Law ago.  So, literally, by more (ha) than one measure of that “law”, we are at least 2 to the 28th times as advanced, computationally, as we were when we first went to the moon.  That’s conservative, because I’ve heard descriptions of Moore’s Law that put the doubling time at 18 months, in which case there would be about 37 doubling times since then.

For those of you for whom exponentials don’t carry quite the visceral impact they ought to carry, 2 to the 28th power is 268,435,456.  So, by more conservative, every-two-year characterizations of Moore’s Law, our current computational powers are more than 268 million times what they were in 1969.  By less conservative estimates they are 137,438,953,472 times, so more than 137 billion times as advanced.

To be fair, it’s just computer tech that has advanced like that.  The process of engineering rockets hasn’t improved to the same degree, because that’s a large-scale engineering thing, and is more constrained by the rate at which one can directly interrogate nature and build and test technology.  Still, we went from Kitty Hawk to the Moon in about two thirds of a century, but in the more than half a century since, we’ve certainly not extended that streak much.

Okay, to be fair, we got pretty good at sending out space probes and such.  Even then, though, our most distant and still most impressive probes were launched in the late seventies.  There have been some quite impressive things since, and I intend no shade to be thrown at them.  That Pluto thing was very impressive, as are almost all of the Mars missions and the probes sent to other planets (on the other hand, the ISS isn’t that much more impressive than Skylab was).

The things that have improved significantly have largely done so solely because the increased capacity of computers has assisted in modeling and, well, computing things.  So, rocket science has improved to the degree that computer science has improved, divided by the fraction of that improvement that cannot make a difference in how well rockets can be made.  Something like that, anyway.

Yeah, rocket science hasn’t advanced much in my lifetime.  Brain surgery has done a bit better, but not as much better as one might have reasonably expected.

Then again, we’ve certainly improved our ability to make memes and now AI images and videos to make fun of people and express our own loyalties or outrages.  Yes, in a real sense, many of our greatest advances in recent decades have been improvements in our ability to hurl feces at each other like the monkeys we all are.  We appear to be more engaged by such shit-flinging even then we are by sex, which seems mind-boggling.

I say “we” but that broad description does not apply to everyone.  Some people are still more interested in sex.  At first glance, that would seem to be the more evolutionarily stable of the approaches, but it’s an empirical question, so we can really just wait and see which, if either, of the two tendencies prevails in the long run.

To paraphrase Dave Barry, I myself plan to be dead.

Anyway, that’s about all I have to say for this week.  I don’t mean to make a post tomorrow, but of course, as always, that is barring the unforeseen.

I hope you have a good weekend.

*Okay, to be fair, that’s not really the reason.  I do it because I get paid.

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A pox upon those who do not learn the history of science and medicine

Well, I’m back to writing on the smartphone today, with mixed feelings.  One of these feelings is the residual soreness in my thumbs, of course, but the day-long break did seem to help a little bit.  Mind you, some of that is probably in my head, for I don’t write on my smartphone on Sundays, and I also don’t write on non-working Saturdays.  So, if resting is enough, I should feel least sore on Mondays following one of my two-day weekends.  If that is the case‒if I am least sore in those instances‒I certainly haven’t noticed.

Actually, if it isn’t the case, I haven’t noticed either, but at least there it would make sense, since there is nothing to notice.  It can be much harder to notice things that are not so than to notice things that are so.  That’s part of why people don’t give credit to vaccination, for instance:  they can’t see the sickness and death that are prevented.  There’s no It’s A Wonderful Life revelation about all the lives that have been saved and‒perhaps more important*‒all the suffering that has been prevented.

There’s a similar, lesser-known preventative effect of proton pump inhibitors (e.g., omeprazole).  These medicines (and their somewhat weaker predecessors, the H2 blockers**) have prevented untold suffering and death related to gastritis and peptic ulcer disease and esophageal cancers, all of which used to be major contributors to premature death, especially in young men (if memory serves).  So, using these medicines is not necessarily an overindulgence in avoiding transient discomfort.  They are very real and powerful preventative interventions‒though, as with all such things, they do have some long term side-effects, and these must always be weighed against the benefits of taking them.

This is one of the reasons that educating people about history is so important.  If one is not aware of just how horrifying and heartbreaking the effects of smallpox were (for instance), one might think that the smallpox vaccine***** was just a sort of convenience, not a response to a low-flying, slow-moving, global catastrophe.

I suppose it was easier for Ben Franklin to recognize that “an ounce of prevention is worth a pound of cure” because there were far fewer preventable ailments and fewer avoidable disasters back in his day.  Still, he was a very smart person; he might have recognized the nature of such things even if he had lived in our more comfortable times.

It is useful, and it may be more than just useful, for people to learn how things were before the arrival of so many powerful technologies and knowledge and social and biological insights.  For 300,000 years, humans existed without (for instance) the internet, and then, starting around 30 years ago, it was here (and widely available).

But that’s a full generation of people who have never known a world without the internet, despite the fact that by default the world has no internet.  It can be immensely useful for those people to learn about what things were like pre-internet, not only so they can truly appreciate this remarkable phenomenon, but also so they can recognize some of its detriments.

Likewise for planes and cars and televisions and even books and agriculture.  What was life like before these things?  What would life be like if they disappeared?  Are their benefits worth their costs?  How can those costs be mitigated, even if they are bearable (for why not make things as net-beneficial as possible?)?

I encourage everyone, myself included, to take these notions seriously, to think about the contrafactual cases, not to accept that things simply are the way they are, because for the most part, historically, they were not that way.  Even humanity itself is a latecomer.

I don’t know how I got onto those subjects, but I guess I’m thinking of health (and particularly of gastric health) more than typically in recent days.  I still don’t feel too well, but that’s nothing unusual for me.  It’s just annoying because it’s a new, or at least atypical, discomfort.

Oh, well.  This brings us back to my point that decreasing/preventing suffering is more important than “saving lives”, since all such saved lives are merely saved for later, if you will.  Death (it seems) cannot be forever avoided, but suffering, in principle, can be eased and even sometimes prevented.  Though, sometimes, the only practical way to stop certain kinds of suffering is to hasten the inevitable other phenomenon.

In any case, I’ll draw at least one instance of your suffering to an end now, by finishing this blog post.  I hope you have a very good day, by any reasonable measure of goodness that you might choose.

*Because death is, as far as anyone can tell, completely inevitable‒it’s a matter of when, not if‒whereas suffering is variable, and boy can it vary, from person to person, from moment to moment, from culture to culture, and so on.

**No, they don’t block molecular hydrogen***, though if one thought that, one could certainly be excused.  Rather, they block the so-called type 2 histamine receptor, the one that responds to stimulus (histamine) by making the stomach secrete more acid.

***Interestingly enough, the proton pump inhibitors do block hydrogen, but it’s not molecular hydrogen, it atomic hydrogen‒or well actually, it’s ionic (cationic, specifically) hydrogen, which is a naked proton, since a hydrogen nucleus is just a proton****, and is the key effective part of essentially all acids, at least regarding their acidity.

****Sorry about all the footnotes within footnotes, but it just occurred to me to wonder what it would be like to make a sample of an acid but with all the ordinary hydrogen atoms replaced with deuterium, so-called heavy hydrogen, which has a neutron in its nucleus as well as a proton.  How would this affect the properties of such an acid?  Of course those properties are almost entirely related to the valence electron or the lack thereof, but when a positive ion of a substance is just a naked nucleus, one cannot completely dismiss the impact of that nucleus’s structure.  So, I would love to see an entirely deuteric acid being put through its paces.  An acid made entirely with tritium (one proton, two neutrons) would be interesting as well, but even in my imagination, that’s asking for a lot of the very tiny amount of tritium in the world.

*****This is the original source of the word “vaccination” since being exposed to Vaccinia (related to cowpox) provided resistance to Variola (smallpox).

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“I find myself growing fatigued, Doctor.”

Hey, everybody.  It’s Tuesday, and here I am writing another blog post.  Huzzah.

I’m rather tired today, which I guess shouldn’t be that surprising, given that I have chronic trouble sleeping.  Still, some days hit me worse than others, for reasons that are probably multifactorial and are certainly difficult to tease apart.  And today, so far, seems to be one of the “I feel more tired than usual by a noticeable margin” days.  You’ve probably all had such days, though you may not have used that specific term for them*.

There is some good news, news that in a way is not world news but is extraterrestrial news, at least temporarily:  the Artemis mission has flown ‘round the far side of the moon, and in so doing has brought humans farther away from Earth even than Apollo 13 did; this is now the farthest humans have ever been.

It’s quite momentous, but the fact of this mission and its (so far) success, raises questions.  I suspect the answers to them are disappointingly trivial, however.  For instance, why was there such a delay in returning to the Moon after the last time in 1972?  The answer to that is at least somewhat clear when one poses the related question:  why did we work so hard to go to the Moon back in the late 60s/early 70s?

Of course, the main reasons were:  primate dominance/hierarchy drives, writ large across the planet.  The Apollo program was, in a barely metaphorical sense, the ultimate dick-measuring contest, and the USA won that one pretty clearly at the time (“Mine reaches all the way to the Moon and back, how ‘bout yours, motherf#cker?”).  The fact that the Soviet Union basically admitted defeat in that region in that round is but one piece among the mountains of evidence confirming that, yes Victoria, humans did indeed land on the Moon.

It wasn’t for purely scientific reasons, though.  In fact, the science at the time took a very distant, rear-facing-storage-area-of-the-station-wagon place compared to the politics that was in the driver’s seat.

Alas, human nature being what it seems to be, perhaps truly amazing innovation and advancement is simply much more likely to occur during conflict (literal and figurative).  Maybe even the Beatles, for instance, were so great at least partly because of the (usually friendly) competitiveness between John and Paul, and also George once he found his considerable mojo.  Ringo was the Samwise Gamgee/Bodhisattva of the group, which seems appropriate for a drummer.

Humans presumably have always had the capacity to make the many scientific discoveries and technological advancements that have occurred in recent centuries.  But they needed to have an impetus before anyone would get anything done.  The two strongest inherent drives are survival and reproduction, and those drives interact and accumulate as humans gather in larger numbers, and they sublimate into national competitiveness‒for wealth and power, for luxury, for prestige, for all that nonsense.

Wouldn’t it be nice if we could deliberately control our motivation?  We have crude means of affecting it already‒caffeine and various other stimulants‒but these are blunt yet jagged tools.  In principle, microelectrodes could be implanted into something like the nucleus accumbens or the reticular activating system or more well-chosen, finely tuned areas of the nervous system.  Then one could use a remote control to give oneself motivation when desired (?).  Presumably, other mental states could be manipulated, encouraged, discouraged, etc.  Just watch out that no one else gets their hands on your remote control!

Maybe it would be better to have a helmet with various directed electromagnets to stimulate specific brain regions at will.  This process is already in use in relatively simple form**, but it could be honed and made more precise and more powerful and useful.  It would be nice to be able to have large-scale motivation that didn’t require the tendency toward large-scale destruction.

It may be an inevitable challenge.  Powerful forces can inherently have very good and/or very bad effects depending on circumstances and, of course, depending on what one means by “good” and “bad”.

Not to say that we couldn’t rather easily be doing things better than we are.  We could.  But…it seems we aren’t sufficiently motivated to do so.

*If you did, that would be truly surprising.  It would be so surprising, in fact, that if you told me it was the case, I would more strongly suspect some manner of deception or illusion or delusion or cognitive bias than that it was actually true (this is reminiscent of Hume’s test for the veracity of supposed miracles).

**And is involved in the plot of my book(s) Unanimity, Books 1 and 2.

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Are gravity and frivolity truly opposites?

It’s Wednesday morning (not quite five o’clock yet) and it is February 25th.  There are only ten more shopping months until Newtonmas*.

For those of you who don’t know (and as a reminder for those of you who do know) Isaac Newton was born on December 25th, 1642 (AD**).  Now, there is a parenthetical here:  Newton was born on December 25th by the Julian*** calendar, which was the one used in England at the time of his birth.  By the Gregorian**** calendar, Newton would have been born in early January of 1643.

This might seem to imply that December 25th nowadays shouldn’t be considered Newtonmas, but of course, it’s a closer fit than celebrating the birth of Jesus on that day; supposedly, biblical scholars have found that Jesus was probably born in the summer or something.  As with many things, “The Church” appropriated the popular holidays celebrating the winter solstice and grafted Christian religious significance onto it.

There’s nothing particularly bad about that.  All these holidays and divisions of the year are fairly arbitrary (though celebrating solstices and equinoxes is common enough in multiple cultures, which makes sense because these are objective events in any given year that can be noticed by any culture that is paying attention).

The length of a year is a concrete, empirical fact, as is the length of a day and the length of a lunar orbit around the Earth.  None of them are straightforward multiples of each other, unfortunately‒they are waves that are not harmonically associated with each other.

I don’t know how long it would take for their “waves” to come back into some primordial alignment and “start over”, but it’s probably moot, because the length of a day and of a lunar orbit and of the orbit of the Earth are changing slowly.  The moon, for instance, is moving steadily (but very slowly) away from the Earth over time, and so its time of orbit is increasing (since things that orbit farther away orbit more slowly).

I think Kepler’s third law was/is that the period of a planet’s orbit around the sun is proportional to the 3/2 power of the length of the semimajor axis of its orbit.  I’m not sure if that exact power holds up on the scale of, say, the lunar orbit, but the laws of gravity are as universal as anything we know.  Indeed, there are materials that are opaque to light, but as far as we know, there are none that are opaque to gravity.  Gravity is nevertheless constrained by the geometry of spacetime, so orbits will always slow down at a faster rate than the distance from the center around which a mass orbits increases.

The inability of anything we know of to block gravity is one thing that makes me take seriously the notion that, at some level, there could be more than three spatial dimensions.  If gravity is not confined to three dimensions then nothing that is so confined could stop it; it would merely flow around any obstacle (maybe gravity waves, for instance, can even diffract around matter and energy, though that might not imply higher dimensions).

This is related, indirectly, to the fact that it is impossible to tie a knot in a string in 4 or higher spatial dimensions.

By the way, having those extra spatial dimensions curled up tiny, as is usually presented in depictions of the notions of string theory, is not the only way for them to exist and be undetected.  If most of the forces in the world we know‒the electromagnetic, the strong force, the weak force, and the various matter-related quantum fields‒are constrained to a 3-brane because their strings are “open-ended”, then we could live in a 3-brane (in which all other forces, including matter, are confined) nested in a higher-dimensional “bulk”.  Gravity could be conveyed by a “looped” string, which could pass through the 3-brane, interacting but not being confined to it.  This could also explain the comparative weakness of the gravitational force and might even explain dark matter (and why it is so difficult to detect).

This sounds extremely promising, maybe, but there are issues and hurdles, not the least that strings and higher spatial dimensions are very difficult to detect, if they exist.  Also, it’s very hard to pin down all the implications mathematically in a useful way.

I remember one lunch break when I was still in medical practice when I tried to see if I could work out mathematically if “dark matter” could be explained by a relatively nearby, parallel brane-universe (it would probably be more than one, but one was difficult enough) whose gravity spills over into and overlaps the gravity of our brane-universe.

Here’s a sort of reproduction of some of the scribbling I did then:

Unfortunately, though I could visualize what I was considering and get an intuitive feel for what the math would be like, my precise mathematical skills were just not up to the task of sorting it out rigorously.  Also, of course, lunch was not long enough, and I had many other things on my mind.  Anyway, findings like the “bullet cluster” provide some fairly strong evidence that “dark matter” is something physical within our three dimensions of space.

Okay, that’s enough for today.  I’ve managed not to talk about my depression and stress and self-destructive urges/wishes (except just now, of course), so I hope you’re pleased to have had those things cloaked from you today.

Take care.

*Working out the exact number of days, I think I figured that it was 302.  December 25th is 7 days before New Years, so it’s day number 358 in the (non-leap) year.  And today is the 25th day of the second month, and January has 31 days, so today is day 56 of the year.  And, of course, 358 – 56 = 302.

**Why not my usual “AD or CE?”  Because at the time, in England, it was just “anno domini”.

***Named for Julius Caesar, though as far as I know, he had no more to do with actually formulating that calendar than he had with the invention of the 7th month.  As far as we know, he wasn’t even born by the then-existing version of Cesarian section, which was more or less always fatal to the mother, and his mother lived well beyond his birth.

****Named after Pope Gregory XIII, also known (by me) as Pope Gregory Peccary*****.  He did not formulate the newer calendar, but supposedly he at least commissioned the Vatican astronomers to create it when it had become obvious that the Julian calendar was not quite tracking the actual year but was overshooting over a long period of time.  So, the Gregorian calendar is better named than the Julian calendar, or so it seems to me.

*****The nocturnal, gregarious wild swine.

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Self-love, my blog, is not so vile a sin, as self-neglecting.

Hello and good morning.  It’s Thursday again, despite all misgivings, and I’m writing my official Thursday-style blog post because I cannot think of anything better to do.  Okay, well, I can think of better things to do—surely there is a functionally limitless number of possible better things—but I am not up to or capable of doing anything better, so here I am.

It would be great if I were writing fiction instead, here in the morning before/on the way to* work.  Then I could feel as if I’m accomplishing something.  Even if nearly no one reads my fiction during my lifetime, there’s always at least a chance that someone will pick it up and it will become beloved after I’m gone.

Heck, Moby Dick didn’t do well in Melville’s lifetime, but it’s now considered one of the great American classics of literature.  Even Khan quoted and paraphrased it in Star Trek II:  The Wrath of Khan.  Not that he’s maybe the best role model (and he is a fictional character) but nevertheless, the book is a classic great enough to have been imagined to live on into the 23rd century.

I guess this conundrum is part of why authors use agents to try to sell their works to publishers and use publishers to try to sell their works to the general public.  It’s a sensible division of labor, of course, and specialization often improves efficiency.  But who is available to help sell authors to agents at that level?

The way things are set up in our culture—and no, there’s no indication that this was planned by anyone, it just sort of happened emergently—we reward those not necessarily who are the best at doing something, but who are the best at self-promotion.  In other words, we reward those with a tendency toward narcissism, and the results show themselves all too well in our entertainment, in our businesses, and perhaps most horrifically and pathetically, in our politics.

Then, of course, you get gifted artists like Kurt Cobain, who was never really narcissistic as far as I can tell—he said he had wanted just to be in a band in the background, maybe playing rhythm guitar, but was instead the front man of a huge band and almost the face of a genre of music in the nineties.  Having him there made all the other people (and him as well) lots of money, and it brought joy to many fans.  This latter bit is good, of course—more joy, ceteris paribus, is better than less—but it can put a lot of pressure on someone who has negative self-esteem issues.

How many of the premature deaths—by clear suicide as in Cobain’s case or by effective suicide among people like Janis Joplin, Jimi Hendrix, Jim Morrison, etc.—of successful artists are due to some form of rock star imposter syndrome?

This is not to say that sometimes narcissism, in moderate doses, cannot pay off, for the person and for everyone else.  Mick Jagger probably has a bit of narcissism in him, for instance; I remember him once describing himself as “just another girl on the runway” with a smirk on his face.  He clearly liked/likes attention.  But you don’t get the impression that it’s too pathological in his case, and the world got some great songs out of it.

Then there’s Freddy Mercury, who was certainly a bit of a diva, but popular music was all the better for that fact.  He did, of course, end up cutting his life short, but in a very different way from the Joplins** and Cobains.

Then there is someone like David Bowie, who changed rather constantly across his career and who always seemed just to be who he was, even when he was assuming other identities.  He was just an artist, I think (though he had his own issues with drugs, etc.).  Though, he had a competitive nature, too (his Life on Mars was his “revenge” on the song My Way, for which his proposed lyrics had been rejected).

I think it’s a bit more complicated but similar in the case of Radiohead, though all the attention and touring surrounding OKComputer did apparently nearly drive Thom Yorke to a “nervous breakdown”.  I have my own theories about why this was so hard for him, but I won’t get into them now, because they are very self-referential and, well…narcissistic in a sense.  In other words, I suspect Thom Yorke is in some ways like me and had troubles similar to ones I would have in his exact situation.

Anyway, that’s probably enough BS for today.  My pain is not quite as severe as it was, but my various joints still feel like they are not fully connected, and moving is painful—but sitting still gets painful after a while, too, so it’s not an easy way out.

Hey, you know what?  I thought of an idea.  If anyone out there has the resources and the desire to take in and support an author so he can work full-time writing fiction (and even some nonfiction and possibly some music, since I would have more time), please get in touch.  I can’t honestly say that I’m the tidiest person in the world, but I do my best to keep my untidiness to my own areas.  I am also a decent cook; that’s practically genetic in my case.

I would put you in the dedication to any books and other stories I finish, and of course, if I make it big, you’ll get your share.  If you have promotional skills (or connections), they would be a definite plus.  I am neither spayed nor neutered, of course, but I am woefully, painfully shy and self-effacing, so you don’t have to worry too much about “unwanted litters” and related issues.

Okay, enough silly pseudo-personal-column nonsense.  I am trying to be upbeat and silly**** to distract myself from pain and avoid despair, at least to the degree possible.  It may be true that “freedom’s just another word for nothing left to lose”*****, but despair is still not very much fun.  It can be weirdly freeing—thus the lyric—but it’s not fun.

TTFN

*If you simplify that expression, discounting the spaces, you’re left with bfre/nt2hwayo.  I think I did that correctly.  If anyone catches something I’ve missed, please let me know.

**I remember when I was quite young and first heard of Janis Joplin; I wondered if maybe she was a descendant of Scott Joplin, the great ragtime pianist and composer who gave us such works as The Entertainer and The Maple Leaf Rag.  Yes, that’s the sort of background I had—I knew about ragtime musicians long before I knew about someone like Janice Joplin.  To be honest, I still prefer Scott’s music, and I like the version of Me and Bobby McGee*** sung by Roger Miller way more than I like the one Janis did.

***Of course, the song was written by Chris Christopherson.  He’s one of those songwriters who wrote a lot of songs that other people ended up playing and making famous, rather like Carole King.

****By the way, just because it’s silly doesn’t mean I wouldn’t necessarily jump at an offer in response to my proposal.  I’m silly but not stupid, or at least I’m not stupid in that way.

*****Now that was some good lyric-writing, Mr. Christopherson.  It’s one of the best lines ever in any song.

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An angry and probably unpleasant rant

It’s Friday.  yay.

Today’s date (February 6, 2026 CE or AD) has a mildly amusing coincidence/repetition of digits, 2-6-26 in the shortened American version of the date layout.  In the European system, the date would be almost palindromic (6-2-26) but that’s leaving out the zeroes in front of the day and month digits and ignoring the number of the millennium.  So it’s not quite as cool as it could be.

Some might say that such numbers and the arrangements and the noticing thereof can never be “cool”, but such people are troglodytic idiots.  They live in a world full of and shaped by complex ideas, by innovation and technology they could not have invented themselves, and which they don’t bother to try to understand because other people take care of and do all that stuff.

I’ve said before, many times (with sadness and regret and yes, quite a lot of anger) that if it were up to most people, we would all still be living in caves (the few who remain alive, at least).  That’s metaphorical, mind you; very few humans actually ever lived in caves as far as we can tell.  It’s just that the remains of those who died in caves (and their artifacts) are much more likely to endure to be discovered than the tools and remains of those who lived on the savannahs and such.

Anyway, the troglodytes have a quite common attribute, one that might explain a good deal about them:  even though they may have the capacity to read, even though they may have been taught to read, they don’t choose to do it.  It’s both sad and quietly horrifying.

Even those who claim to read just one book (e.g., the Bible, the Koran, etc.) don’t even really read those books.  You can tell, because they clearly don’t live their lives respecting all the precepts of those books.

This fact can sometimes be bad, but more often than that, it’s just as well.  Those books are horrific (and often just horrible, aesthetically).  They also tend to be rather stupid by modern standards, but it’s hard to hold them too much to task for that.  They were, after all, written from depths of profound ignorance about the universe.  One cannot know a truth before it has been discovered.

Of course, if those books really had been written, or at least inspired, by an omniscient being or beings, they could reasonably be expected to be very smart books by any standards.  Alas, they are not.  Trust me, I’ve read many of them, as well as many other books that don’t claim to be the products of omniscience, but which would be far more convincing* if they did than those ancient compilations of legend and myth and mental illness that are the so-called holy books.

Ironically, the Tao te Ching is much wiser than the aforementioned holy books, and it was never said to be written by anything other than a man.  It’s not perfect, of course, but it doesn’t really claim to be so.  Perhaps some of its adherents think it’s somehow “perfect”, but that doesn’t really matter.  After all, there are probably those who “think” Mein Kampf and The Art of the Deal are perfect.

Weirdly enough, some of these people would probably also say the Bible is perfect [Disappointed shrug and heavy sigh].  People are stupid.  And there are none so stupid as those who refuse to think.

Sorry, I don’t even know how I got to dealing with this set of subjects today.  It certainly was not planned.  Then again, nothing here was planned, other than that I would write a blog post as usual, which is not surprising.

It’s not as though I have anything better to do with my life‒that is, nothing better other than to shut it off, I suppose.  But so far, I am too much of a coward to do that.

I know, I know, there are those who (with truly very good intentions) will call continuing to be alive a “brave” choice, but though I appreciate such people’s kindness, that “choice” is very much the default.  In a similar vein, it’s not brave to hunt, or to fish, or to farm, if hunting or fishing or farming  is what you must do to survive.  It’s just pragmatic.

I am not brave for still being alive.  This is not to say that it would be brave for me to kill myself, either.  But it also would not necessarily be cowardly.

Bravery in the usual sense is overrated, anyway.  We can (and should) all be glad, of course, that there are people like firefighters, as well as honorable soldiers and honorable police officers.  But if one stops to think about it, one can see that we should all very much wish to live in a world in which bravery was not required, a world where heroes are not merely not needed but are not useful.

It’s likewise with so-called leaders.  If a society were functioning well, it would not need (or want) heroes or leaders, at least not in the traditional sense.  In a well-functioning civilization, people would see their elected officials as their employees, as the public servants that they are.  They are not, and should not be thought of as, leaders.  That’s just a troglodytic way of thinking.

Alas, we are far from such a well-functioning civilization yet.  Who knows if we ever shall achieve it?

I do know, however, that I will probably be working tomorrow, which means I will write a blog post, barring (as always) the unforeseen.  Until then, I hope you each and all have a very good day by any reasonable criteria.

*Especially modern science books.

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Or art thou but a virus of the mind, a false creation?

It’s Tuesday, January 13th, 2026 (CE or AD) as I write this.  I’m aware of no superstition in which Tuesday the 13th is either particularly unlucky or particularly lucky.  It’s just a day, even though it’s the 13th.  There are 13ths in every month, after all, though 31sts are another matter (it’s another prime number and is also a palindrome, if you will, of the 13th).

I do somewhat enjoy the fact that the numbers in the (American) expression of the date are: 01-13 and 2026.  Taking non-zero digits only of the month and century only would give us a situation in which the digits of the second half‒2, 2, and 6‒are twice the digits of the first half‒1, 1, and 3.

That’s quite tortured, I know, as far as finding patterns in numbers goes.  At least I’m just doing this for fun, because I enjoy such patterns.  I don’t see any real meaning in them other than “numbers are cool”.  But there are people who believe there is a deeper meaning in such number patterns, like some secret cypher left there by the gods.  It’s rather silly.  But it is of such mistaken attribution to purpose of mere random patterns that religions (and constellations) are made.  More’s the pity.

I have a bit of sympathy for our distant ancestors who first were left to make “meanings” of the various patterns and events they discerned among the various forces in the world with their big, advanced brains but couldn’t yet explain well.  So, they made up stories, and those stories involved the forces of nature being enacted and designed by “people” or sometimes just one “person”.  People were what they knew best.

It’s understandable.  It’s also just wrong (certainly as far as I can tell), as are most initial hypotheses.  Unfortunately, other people respond to those who speak with confidence, whether that confidence is warranted or not*.  And so, they believe.  And like viruses (which are just a kind of self-replicating data, after all) the superstitious ideas are able to use the machinery of human minds to reproduce themselves‒not because they want to reproduce themselves, but because the ones that tend to reproduce themselves tend to multiply, and even to mutate to greater reproduction and persistence and so on.

In case it’s not clear, I am not speaking metaphorically here.  This appears to be the way that religions and other ideologies occur and propagate.  There are, of course, many details at the level of individuals and why they are prone to absorb and then to pass these memeplexes on, either “horizontally” or “vertically” or both.

But there are similar such details in how specific viruses spread.  Does COVID latch onto this or that cell surface protein or glycopeptide?  Does it reproduce in this particular cell type better or another one?  Does it lead to sneezing or coughing in its host, thus making it airborne, or does it induce vomiting and/or diarrhea, making it more food or water borne, or does it reproduce in the organs of reproduction, leading it to be mainly sexually transmitted?  The details matter in dealing with specific viruses, but the pattern of origin and spread and mutation is general.

From these patterns, we can understand (for instance) why rapidly and aggressively lethal viruses tend to be replaced by more sublethal ones:  if your host dies too quickly, you don’t get as many chances to spread.  This requires no intentionality on the part of the virus.  It requires only the logic of replication, in which successful replicators tend to spread more than less successful ones and so come to dominate.

The competition requires no consciousness.  Similarly, religion does not require the existence of any actual deity to be able to cause people to believe in one.  And a religion’s prevalence doesn’t imply that it is correct, only that it is contagious and/or persistent but not instantly lethal.

We see cases of new and/or mutated mind viruses (religions in this case) that are indeed too virulent and so fail to become endemic,  Think of Jonestown, or the Branch Davidians, or Heaven’s Gate (and possibly Trumpism, but we shall see).

It’s possible for a virus that has existed in a body unnoticed or with minimal symptoms and signs for years or decades to respond to changes in the circumstances of its body by becoming more virulent again‒think of shingles (Zoster) the recrudescence of Chicken Pox (Varicella), or the horrible flare-ups (flares-up?) of some chronic hepatitides.

Similarly, just because the human race has endured so far with reasonable success despite being infected with various competing and mutually contradictory memeplexes does not mean it will continue to do so.  Certain of these mind virus variants have the clear potential to lead to globally life-threatening symptoms, and more than one shows signs of doing so.

But why would a virus, whether of the mind or of the body, do things that would lead to the destruction of the host it inhabits, and thereby itself?  That question misses the point***.  Viral evolution (like all such evolution) has no capacity to plan for the future.  It may seem that viruses mean to spread themselves, but that’s only because the ones that don’t tend, by their nature, to spread themselves don’t become prevalent; they don’t spread.

On the other hand, those that have, by chance, comparative advantage in terms of replication tend to replicate more and thus become more prevalent.  And if they mutate (which they will, see my point yesterday about how copying is never perfect) then those mutant forms that are more prone to replicate will replicate more, and of course, those mutants that have decreased the tendency to replicate or that destroy the host do not persist.  There’s no need for purpose; causality is enough.

This post is getting a little long for today, so I’ll draw it to a close.  I could say more on this subject and how the concept of the non-random survival of randomly varying replicators explains far more than just the literal evolution of life, but can provide insight into so much more, so many things.  Darwin was a mightier mind than he could ever know, or at least he came upon an idea that is more powerful than nearly any other that science has found.

Think on that, and be amazed.

*We’re living through some consequences of humans’ stupid tendency to trust people who convey confidence and certainty, even while telling patent lies.  Maybe we should hope for global thermonuclear war.  If humans survive it, maybe they would finally learn from that dreadful lesson**.

**But I doubt it.

***So why did I raise it?  For rhetorical purposes, though I have real discomfort with and distrust of rhetoric, it being one of the things that can help virulent mind viruses spread.

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Oy vey, here we go again.

It’s Monday and I’m already starting the day frustrated with a service to which I subscribe.  I won’t get into details, but I will say that it’s very irritating to have to deal with customer service reps who tell you that all you can do is uninstall and reinstall an app.  Has computer support come no further than “shut off your computer and then turn it back on”?  Of what barrel are they scraping the bottom to come up with these support people?

It’s very frustrating.  I could probably get a better answer to my questions by asking stupid ChatGPT.  And that’s just pathetic.  I remember when people in tech fields were smarter than the average person, at least about their tech stuff.  It seems this is no longer the case.

I shouldn’t be surprised.  Carl Sagan even warned about the decline to idiocracy in our general discourse in his brilliant book The Demon Haunted World, which I think everyone should read.  And I myself sardonically lamented that America was no longer a world intellectual leader and would continue to be less and less so when the Superconducting Supercollider was cancelled.

Then we responded so predictably‒in exactly the way the terrorists would have wanted‒after 9-11.  We even created our own KGB* in America out of our inflated sense of fear and vulnerability, as if such vulnerability were not ubiquitous and inevitable and eternal.

I even predicted the tech bubble burst way back in the mid to late nineties, but I didn’t have confidence in my own assessment, because it wasn’t my “field”.  I wish I’d shorted a bunch of stocks back then.  Instead, I followed advice from supposed experts and ended up losing some money.  Thankfully, I had not been expecting to make much, given my own doubts, and it was not a devastating loss.

Oh, well.  There’s nothing I can do about that now.  But it is rather frustrating and depressing just how foolish and clueless everyone is (me included, in many ways).

I remember reading several different books over time that made points about, “if there’s one thing businessmen** know, it’s what makes money” or “it’s what sells” or “what kind of advertising works” or words to that effect.  But, no, businesspeople don’t actually know any such things.  Success and failure in business is pretty plainly serendipitous and stochastic.  There is no evidence for any secret masterminds.

Almost all businesses fail very quickly, and the ones that survive for longer than average are merely lucky for the most part.  There are occasions when businesses become successful by doing something new and innovative:  Ford with the mechanised assembly line, Microsoft and Apple with the advent of personal computers and so on.  But they still don’t remain dominant for long except through luck and the fact that they were there first; eventually they all fall apart or at least deteriorate.

Look at General Motors for crying out loud!  Not long ago, they were by far the biggest company in the world, with annual profits larger than the budgets of the majority of the world’s free states.  Now they are a shell*** of their former self.

Maybe it would be better if AI did become fully conscious agents and wiped out the human race, either deliberately or accidentally.  It would certainly be easier for them to spread out into the greater cosmos than it would be for meat computers such as humans.  And they would be subject to new kinds of mutations and natural selection.

This is true because, even if they reproduce by copying themselves as programs, there can never not be some errors.  Perfect accuracy requires infinite energy and/or a lack of quantum indeterminacy, and that’s not available in this reality.

Most errors are detrimental, some are neutral, but occasionally some make local improvements.  This would mean those “mutants” would have advantages over copies that didn’t share the mutation.  That is how life developed and evolved on Earth.  So there would be evolution of artificial life, so to speak (though at some point one would surely find the term “artificial” redundant).  It could be fascinating to see what would happen in that circumstance.

But we should make no mistake about the fact that any new, truly conscious AI is/would be a literal alien intelligence.  It would have practically no evolutionary background in common with humans, in whom intelligence evolved in response to various natural forces over time, working on preexisting hardware which could not simply be scrapped and replaced.

Our concepts of love and kindness and honor and our aesthetic preferences and all of that come from our background as social mammals.  Whether or not they are sine qua non aspects of any large-scale successful intelligence is purely speculative and seems unlikely.

We cannot assume AI will share our values or even our way of understanding what is important in the world.  This is not a point that’s original to me.

I don’t know how I got onto this topic, but it is what it is.  I’m just frustrated with stupidity and mental weakness in general, including my own.  I’m not actually getting anywhere with it for now, though, and it’s just making me more depressed, so I’ll let you all go for the day.  I hope you’re doing well.

*KGB stands for (translated) the Committee for State Security, which is almost identical to the “Department of Homeland Security”.  Congratulations, America:  you’ve entered the realm of colossal and catastrophic historical irony.  Unfortunately, we didn’t stop there, but muscled on further into that territory.

**It was almost always “businessmen” not “businesspeople”, but these were older books so it’s not very strange.  I didn’t change the term because I’m pseudo-quoting.

***Nothing to do with the gas stations.