Science

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Gravid questions of time and gravity (and labor)

It’s Monday, the first of September, which was “originally” the seventh month, but which is now pushed back to the ninth by the two “caesarean” months.  Speaking of such things, it’s also Labor Day in the US (I’m not sure about other countries) a day on which we celebrate labor by giving most people the day off.  This isn’t quite as perverse as it might sound.  After all, what woman would want to work while in labor?

Ha ha.

Anyway, my workplace is open today, though only for half a day.  It has become more and more common for nearly everything to be open even on huge holidays like New Years and so on, let alone “ordinary” federal holidays.  The reasons are fairly straightforward, and they have nothing to do with any kind of formal, deliberate, corporate conspiracy such as is imagined by so many naïve people on social media.

It’s just the same problem‒or situation‒that leads trees to grow tall when it would make much more sense for them all to stay closer to the ground and not waste so many resources on trunks and xylem and phloem, on getting water and nutrients from the ground up to their highest leaves*.  The trouble is, if all the trees were low but then one variant appeared that was slightly higher, it would have a significant advantage over its species-mates (and other species), so it would be more effective at reproduction, ceteris paribus.  Its offspring would come to dominate, unless and until yet other variants occurred that tended to grow even higher.  And thus the “arms race” would begin.

So in the human world:  if everyone else worked four days a week, but one worker was willing/able to work more days or longer days, especially if for the same or only slightly higher pay, then that worker would have a job advantage, (again, ceteris paribus).  And so competition leads at least some workers to strive to outdo each other to the extent they can, and so on, working for local, individual advantage that inexorably leads to less pleasant outcomes for everyone.  It’s just game theory applied to economics.

Anyway, that wasn’t what I wanted to discuss this morning.  I wanted to discuss two physics-related ideas I’ve had in the last few days.  The later one is just a bit of silly fun, but the other is more interesting to me.

The second one happened this morning (at about 2 am, when I was awake, because of course I was).  I put on a YouTube video of Star Talk in which a string theorist was the guest, and Professor Tyson asked her about the possibility of more than one dimension of time, and she said most such theoretical possibilities fall afoul of paradoxes and trouble with causality.

But it occurred to me, if there were a situation with time travel involving, for instance, the “grandfather paradox”, maybe the fact that preventing one’s grandparents from meeting makes one no longer there to prevent the meeting doesn’t necessarily unravel the universe, but maybe the paths and events correct and change each other in a closed, repetitive loop of time, interfering with each other** until only one, complete resonant spacetime line is there.

It’s analogous to a plucked string*** in which all sorts of vibrations and waves go back and forth between the fixed ends, but most waves/vibrations end up canceling each other out except the ones that fit an even number of times within the confines of the fixed string.  So maybe the actual events of reality could thus only be the ones that are resonant within that spacetime…whatever the hell that might mean.

Anyway, that’s the frivolous question; though it’s a bit fun, it probably doesn’t really have anything to do with our actual world (though it could…remember my thought a bit ago about forces traveling backward and forward in time and interfering until only a fixed number of outcomes resonate****?).

More interesting to me, really, was a question that occurred to me while I was reading Lisa Randall’s Warped Passages, a physics book (of course) and a particularly good one.  It was not really discussing the question that popped into my mind, other than that Professor Randall was reviewing the particles in the Standard Model.

We know that fermions cannot pile up one on another (cannot share quantum states), and that bosons can (e.g., in lasers).  We also know that massless force-carrying bosons such as gluons and photons travel at c, the “speed of light”.  The W+ and W- and Z bosons of the weak force do not because they interact with the Higgs field and so have “rest mass”.

Anyway, that’s not really the point.  The point is that gravitons, the hypothetical force-carrying particle of the gravitational field, are also massless bosons, and gravity travels at the speed of light*****.  But something popped into my head that had never occurred to me before and I’m not sure why:  do gravitons come in different frequencies?

We know that light has a limitless number of possible frequencies, across a very wide range, and that higher frequencies/shorter wavelengths are associated with higher energies per photon.  We also know that all matter radiates photons at a spectrum of frequencies that depends on temperature‒the so-called black body radiation.  Well, we also know that all matter “radiates” gravitons, or at the very least it all interacts with the gravitational field.  What if matter gives out gravitons in a spectrum that depends on total mass?

What would it mean for a graviton to have higher frequency or lower frequency?  Would that entail a stronger (and weaker) gravity?  Or would it correspond to something else entirely?

Of course, I know that gravitational waves are of varying frequencies depending upon the source‒that frequency and intensity (amplitude) increase as, for instance, two mutually orbiting black holes get closer and closer, orbiting faster and faster, before they coalesce.  Is that analogous to them producing large numbers of gravitons of those increasing frequencies?  Or are gravitational waves different types of things than “ordinary” gravitons?  Is ordinary gravity propagated by “virtual gravitons” much as the electromagnetic force is carried by “virtual photons”, which are really just mathematical shorthand for perturbations in the quantum field of electromagnetism?

I suspect that, because we don’t really have anything like a good quantum theory of gravity, there would be few clear answers to my questions about gravitons, but there may be constraints based on what we already know that would make my questions answerable or moot.

I mean, I know that “we” know that gravitons would be spin-2 particles, meaning that to rotate them 180 degrees would leave them unchanged******.  I don’t know how this or other aspects of gravitons would affect possible frequencies, though.  Also, can gravitons be polarized in a manner analogous to light?  I’m not sure whether my graviton questions are sensible or pertinent or utterly off the mark.  If anyone out there is a physicist specializing in such things, please, if you can spare a moment, let me know?

This post has gone on for a long time, I know.  I could meander around much longer on these subjects, probably for pages and pages and pages, but that would be a bit much for a daily blog post, if it isn’t already.  Maybe because it’s a holiday, at least some of you will have the time and interest in reading such thoughts, but I don’t want to push my luck.

However, I welcome any comments on the above subjects if you have an interest, and especially if you have relevant expertise (though I welcome all interested thoughts).

In any case, please try to have a good day.

*A fascinating physical process that’s only possible because continuous liquids can actually have negative pressures.

**Not in any inappropriate way, just that they interact and waves can cancel out.

***Not a “superstring” or heterotic string or what have you, just for instance a guitar string or a cello string.

****This is not unlike Feynman’s path integral/sum over histories notion, really.

*****We know this is so because there was a neutron star merger detected by LIGO and VIRGO that was quickly looked at using “light” telescopes as well, and the timing matched up (As a silly aside, since gravitons are bosons and could thus in principle share quantum states, one might, in principle, be able to create a coherent beam of them…a GRASER or GASER if you will).

******Spin-1 particles basically return to their identical state if you rotate them 360 degrees.  And for spin ½ particles, you need to rotate them 720 degrees (!) for them to return to their prior configuration.  Once you’ve rotated them 360 degrees they’re kind of the opposite of their prior configuration.  If that’s hard to think about, just imagine traversing a Mobius strip laid out in a “circle”:  once you’ve gone 360 degrees, you’re on the opposite “side” of the strip than that on which you began, and you have to go another 360 degrees (so to speak) to get back where you started.  Neat, huh?

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Doff thy name; and for thy name, which is no part of thee, take all my blog.

Hello and good morning.  It’s Thursday again, and I’m going to try to be more upbeat today in my writing.  So, given my track record, I’ll simply now say…

TTFN

Ha ha, just kidding.  I would never let you off that easily.  I don’t, though, really know what I’m going to write today.  Of course, I never really know ahead of time, as you know (ahead of time) if you’ve read this blog for long.  But now we’re doubly ignorant*, because I have to choose from a much narrower realm of things about which to speak:  the Positive (or at least the Non-negative).

I suppose we could talk about electric charge‒that can be positive, if you’ll pardon the pun (and even if you won’t).  But of course, charge, and specifically positive charge, has interesting historical contingencies.  Because, of course, positive and negative are merely chosen terms; there’s nothing inherently “negative” about the charge of an electron, nor is there anything inherently “positive” about a proton.

As I understand it, Benjamin Franklin was the one who named the two charges and who began the convention that current moves from positive to negative along, for instance, a wire supplied by a voltaic pile (or “battery”, another term Franklin coined, according to what I have read and heard).

Of course, it was quite a long time before people discovered that‒oops!‒the moving particle carrying the charge in a flowing current is the electron, the “negatively” charged particle.  So, based on the already widespread convention, current, as described by physicists and engineers (and electricians I presume), flows in the opposite direction from the actual charge carrier that’s moving.

It’s a bit like relating stars’ intensity by describing how dark they aren’t.  And it turns out, given that the magnitude scale for stars indicates brighter stars by smaller/more negative logarithmic numbers, that’s actually‒in a sense‒how it’s done.  This is also due to historical contingencies.

These sorts of things happen a fair amount.  Remember when VHS beat out Betamax because it was basically first to the market, even though pretty much all reputable experts agreed that Beta was the better, more reliable, clearer, lighter-weight format?  Once people get used to something, they often don’t want something new, even if it’s better.  I get it, of course‒unnecessary change stresses me out severely‒but it’s definitely unfortunate.

It occurs to me now that the “demotion” (really just the redesignation) of Pluto from planet to “dwarf planet” was a rare exception to this, when humans, recognizing that the terminology they had been using was not ideal, changed it.  Of course, this was the work of an international astronomical society, a group of scientists, so certainly it wasn’t a typical situation or decision.

It also was basically a matter of necessity**.  Several other Kuiper Belt objects similar to Pluto had been discovered, some more massive than Pluto, and all with very elongated, non-circularish orbits (like Pluto’s), so either there were going to be a slew of highly irregular planets with highly eccentric orbits, outnumbering the “older” and more orderly planets, or we were going to have to call these things something else.

It’s useful to remember that the names and categories that we put on things are just our names and categories.  They are not arbitrary, at least not if they are useful; but they are our designations, like the little bits of code that let operating systems know where to find programs and files on a computer’s disk memory.  They let us talk to each other about things and address them with consistency and rigor, so that we can better understand them.

But Pluto doesn’t care whether we call it the ninth planet or a dwarf planet or a cartoon dog.  It doesn’t care if we call it Pluto or Hades or Osiris or Hel or Mandos.  It doesn’t have any idea what we call it or how we “define” it.  It doesn’t have any ideas at all, as far as anyone can tell.  It’s not the sort of thing that has ideas or cares about things.  To quote Mister Spock (who was not speaking about Pluto) “It is, essentially, a great rock in space”***.

For nearly 4.5 billion years, Pluto‒like Jupiter’s moons, like Ceres, like the Kuiper Belt and the Oort Cloud and so on‒was just there, and no one knew it was there, no one had seen it, no one was aware of it (as far as we know, anyway).  Intelligent awareness does not cause things in the universe to be; rather, things in the universe being and doing what they do sometimes, rarely, cause intelligent awareness, at least in one tiny place in the cosmos.

BTW, you are in that place and you are one of those intelligent awarenesses, in case you didn’t know that.  But I suspect you already did know that.

It’s quite the rarefied club to which to belong.  Even if there are countless intelligent species in the universe (however one might reasonably define intelligence) they must nevertheless be a tiny, petite, and wee part of all the stuff in the universe, at least for now.  In principle, that could change eventually, and intelligence could come to dominate the universe, but that’s probably a long way off, if it’s going to happen at all.

It can be hard to be optimistic about that possibility sometimes, given the state of humanity, which always seems abysmally stupid.  But remember, the smarter ones among humans have an advantage, the greatest advantage we have seen in our world:  they are smart.

And with that, for real this time:

TTFN

*I know, if there are fewer things from which to choose, one is in principle less ignorant, since there are fewer unknowns, the entropy is smaller, etc.  However, sampling from these spaces is not random; the negative concept-space is more well known and thus less random (and more likely to be chosen) than the positive space, about which I know but little.

**Not to be confused with the question of the necessity of matter.  That’s a whole sort of “metacosmological” notion.

***I know, I know, Pluto is largely made of water ice.  Trust me (or not), at the temperatures of Pluto, water is a rock.  And at the temperatures and pressures of Titan, methane is the stuff of lakes and streams (i.e., it is a liquid).  And at the temperature of the interior of the sun, tungsten is a plasma…or so I suspect.

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You flocks, you shoals, you fine emergent things

Well, it’s Tuesday morning, and I’m feeling a bit beat up and wrung out from yesterday, which was an extremely bad day, pain wise.  I really felt quite stiff and sore all day, and I couldn’t help walking with a limp.  It’s quite frustrating.  I do have potential assistance of a kind coming today, and hopefully that might make a difference.  We shall see.  I’ll tell you more when I have more information.

As for anything else, well, there’s really nothing else going on in my life.  I still haven’t done any work on new song lyrics, nor have I played the guitar or keyboard at all, nor sang.  I don’t even know what kind of shape my voice might be in at this point, but it’s probably pretty rough.

I think maybe I should drink more coffee during the day.  I used to drink it regularly when I was up north, but I’ve fallen off a lot since coming to Florida.  A big part of that is just that coffee is a hot drink, and hot drinks in Florida can be quite unpleasant.

But also, if I can reevaluate my own internal workings and decision-making memory‒which I can‒I tried to cut back on caffeine because I feared it was a major contributor to my tension and hostility and anxiety.  Well, you’ve read my blogs before (unless this is your first time), so it should be fairly clear that that particular intervention was not fit for purpose.  And one thing coffee has always done for me has been to be something to put in my mouth and stomach other than food.  That’s certainly worth a lot in my case.

Anyway, in the new office we have two refrigerators‒the boss brought in one from his garage that was not being used much‒and though neither has an ice maker, ice trays are easy.  So I can make iced coffee to take the sting off coffee’s hot nature.  I can’t directly take the sting off Florida’s hot and muggy nature, of course, but it’s bearable most of the time.

And in the long run, who knows how Florida’s specific climate will alter as the world’s overall surface temperature increases?  One might assume it will just get hotter and more humid*, but it’s best not to jump to conclusions.  Weather patterns are the archetypal chaotic system, and though climate and weather are not synonyms, there is a relation.

Many things interact to maintain specific local climates.  For instance, the Gulf Stream keeps the British Isles much warmer than they would be otherwise, being so far north, but it is not a fixed pattern in the Atlantic, but a product of confluences of various forces and feedback loops (as well as probably feed-sideways paths).  It has not existed forever.  It just feels like it has because human lives are so short, and human minds tend to be woefully parochial and provincial.  This is a source of so many human problems, not least the failure to learn obvious lessons from history.

But I guess there’s not much point in moaning about that lamentable fact right now.  I try to do my little part by writing about what I think are occasionally interesting and thought-provoking ideas, and by trying to learn about all sorts of things myself, from history and philosophy to biology and physics and mathematics‒and, of course, I’m technically an expert on medicine.  It’s as if I hope that by increasing my own knowledge about as many things as I can, I’ll be able to bring up the average and perhaps have some magical diffusion effect.

I don’t actually think that, of course, nor is that really my motivation for learning about various things and stuff.  I just like to understand and know things, to the degree possible, and I enjoy the process of learning them.  Physics is the most interesting subject to me in many ways because it is the study of the workings out of physical reality.  Everything else that happens is “simply” chaotic, emergent murmurations that happen on the surface of the underlying processes.

There is a question whether mathematics is even more fundamental than physics or is rather an invention of humans to describe and work with the patterns that are happening that are not guided by mathematics, perhaps, but simply produce it as an epiphenomenon.

I think Stephen Wolfram proposed something along those lines, based on “cellular automata”**, but though I have his book A New Kind of Science, I have not read it, because I have the Kindle edition.  It’s not really formatted for Kindle, so it’s basically just a PDF of the original book, and that can make it very difficult to read on one’s smartphone.

Such thoughts are quite entertaining and they can sometimes be productive.  I often wish more people were interested in them rather than, for instance, what some particular celebrity did to some other celebrity, or whether some particular advertisement can, with tortured logic, be “judged” to be inherently offensive and even evil, or just how horrifically to punish someone who agrees with only 99% of the things you believe, but disagrees on 1%.

Okay, I need to avoid getting started on that train of thought.  So, I’ll draw today’s post to a close.  Hopefully, by tomorrow I will have some relatively better news than I’ve had recently.  If so, I will probably share it with you.  In the meantime, try your best to have a good day.

*Particularly if sea level rises enough for a lot of the state to become submarine‒now that would be high humidity.

**The most well-known case probably being John Conway’s Game of Life, which is a “game” on a 2-dimensional grid of squares, with particular, simple rules about what happens to any given square depending on whether its neighbors are empty or not.  Remarkable, self-sustaining, and even traveling patterns form from these basic notions, similar to the way the flocking*** behavior of birds can be described with a few basic rules followed by each bird individually, requiring no communications other than just seeing where one’s nearest neighborings are.

***That sound like an epithet, does it not?

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Chords in music and in time

It’s Monday again, the start of another work week‒that is, if your work week begins on Monday.  In the modern world‒and indeed, perhaps always‒there are many people whose work weeks start on days other than Monday.  I suspect, though, that the majority of people still work their week starting on Monday, at least in the West, though it may not be a large majority.  If anyone out there has easy access to any rigorous statistics on the matter, I would be interested to learn.  On the other hand, I’m not going to seek the information on my own, so it’s not a tragedy if no readers have it.  I like trivia, but this is definitely quite trivial, at least from my point of view.

I hope you all had a good weekend.  My own was not very interesting, and I felt tired, but then again, I did have a cold starting in the middle of last week, so I guess I was still recovering.  I feel as though that particular infirmity is reasonably well on its way.

I worked a little on the chords of last week’s song, Native Alien, though not very much.  At least at the house I have my keyboard, so I can play melody and chords at once to confirm which chords sound best to me.  Interestingly, it seems that the chord to start the song (at least the melody) will be a C major chord, which is the V chord of the key of F major (though if the song could be considered to be in D minor, it would be the VII chord).  This is not unusual, of course, nor particularly noteworthy.  It’s just interesting for me to recognize specific facts to which I didn’t pay attention when I wrote earlier songs, because I’ve thought more about music theory since then, probably because of the guitar.  It’s a curiosity for me.

Speaking of songs, today I plan to do another round of flipping coins to pick a basic topic, or subject, or trigger‒whatever might be the better term‒for another song (lyrics) for this week.  Of course, last week’s word, Earth, didn’t really become the subject of the song, just a takeoff point, but that’s fine.  The idea was just to give me some way to give myself a start.

In other news, I had a weird thought last night after watching one of Sabine Hossenfelder’s latest videos.  I wrote an email to myself about the thought so I wouldn’t forget it, and I’ll include that text here, so you‒yes, you‒can see what you think (I have edited this text for clarity and to correct typos):

“If the overall arrow of time is caused by the tendency toward increase in entropy from a lower to a higher entropy state (“Big Bang” to heat death, at the cosmic level), that could behave analogously to a current (like in the ocean, not a wire).  Meanwhile, locally*, we know that the laws of physics don’t appear to have any directionality time-wise.  So perhaps locally, matter and wave interferences in the sense of quantum wavefunctions can happen not just in space but in time itself and the future can feedback on the past, just not in such a large way that it would overwhelm the overall tendency (though maybe even that is not impossible).  The effect of such a temporally retrograde wave wouldn’t flow backwards so fast that it would override the current itself (probably).  However, that wave could still affect its predecessor, creating standing interference patterns in time and things along those lines that might be the source of so-called super determinism.  Think about this a little bit.”

That last injunction was intended for me, but if any of you want to think about it, you’re welcome to do so (it’s not as though I could stop you even if I wished to stop you, which I don’t).  Of course, if I’m going to really explore this notion, I’m going to need to bone up on my mathematical physics in a serious way, and it’s always hard to find the time.  That’s always been a bit of a weakness of mine:  I get very interested in something and develop skills in it because of my interest, then something else catches my attention, and soon all my energy goes there.  I don’t tend to forget the things I learned previously, at least, and sometimes when I return to them, I even find that I’m better than I was before (e.g., after not playing guitar for quite a while, when I picked it up again, certain songs or chords with which I had trouble before had become much easier).

Also, of course, the fact that I have to work for a living is another distraction.  I really do need some ultra-wealthy patron out there to provide me with living and intellectual resources so that I can devote my time to my wonderful pursuits without having to earn my living.  I also want world peace, world freedom…and a unicorn.

I guess in the meantime I should probably go back to using Brilliant dot org to spruce myself up in terms of mathematics and physics (and computer science in the meantime, why not?).  I have an annual subscription (supporting Sabine Hossenfelder, whom I mentioned earlier), so I might as well use it.  It’s a better use for my spare time than diddling around on social media.

Okay, well, I hope you all have a very good day, and that it is the beginning of a very good week for you.

*I’m using the colloquial meaning of “locally” her not the strict physics definition of locality.

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The stochasticity of quantum interactions and the names of days of the week

It’s Wednesday today.  That’s a weird way to spell a day, and a weird way to spell a version of the name of the god Wotan or Odin, after whom the day is named (unless I am quite, quite mistaken).

Our days are peculiarly and seemingly haphazardly named here in the English-speaking West.  We’re not the only ones with inconsistent weekday names, but ours are certainly a strange hodgepodge.  Sunday and Monday are relatively straightforward:  they’re named for the sun and the moon.  Then, weirdly, we suddenly switch to Norse (!) mythology and name the next four days after four of the old Scandinavian deities.  Then, abruptly, we switch to a Roman god, Saturn, for Saturday.

This “names of the days of the week” thing was clearly not planned out.  It just sort of happened.  But that’s the way so many things occur in the real world—indeed, perhaps everything just sort of happens, and at multiple levels—not randomly but nevertheless stochastically and in a way that is functionally unpredictable, at least in its details.

The various quantum fields just sort of interact in ways that, at their lowest stable energy levels, give us quarks and gluons and electrons and photons and W and Z bosons and various neutrinos and a nonzero Higgs field that interacts with some (but not all) of the other fields.  The quarks and gluons just happen to form up stably into protons (and some neutrons, but neutrons are only stable within an atomic nucleus—they decay with a half-life of about ten minutes when existing freely).  And the protons happen to interact, via the electromagnetic field, with the electron field, and they stably pair up, and neutrons come into play “afterwards”, stabilizing larger atomic nuclei (though that’s not all they do).

Then, on large scales, the graviton field (if there indeed is such a thing, which is suspected but not certain) interacts with all the other fields, and where the density of stuff is slightly higher it pulls that stuff in towards itself, and where it is less, that rarefied stuff gets thinned out further as its components are pulled by neighboring stronger areas of gravity.

This process undergoes positive feedback—as stuff gets denser, its gravity gets more prominent, and that in turn tends to make the stuff get denser still.  And if there is any net angular momentum to larger collections of the stuff—and there almost always is some net angular momentum, since there’s only one way to have zero angular momentum, and there is a functionally limitless number of ways for it to be nonzero*—the stuff starts to rotate around a net common axis.

And then, of course, we get galaxies, and in those galaxies, we get stars, in which the interactions of the various quantum fields and gravity lead the protons and neutrons to get together into bigger clumps, some of which are quite stable (and the ones that aren’t stable simply don’t endure but transform into other states until they find ones that are stable).

Then stars run out of fuel, and the various field interactions and gravity produce various kinds of spectacular deaths, most of which involve scattering at least some heavier elements** out into the reaches of the galaxies.  Then we get next generations of stars, which (by the way) clump and develop angular momentum in a smaller but similar way to the galaxies.  And now, with heavier elements, we get planets, some of which are largely solid.

I think you know the broad strokes of the rest of the story.  If not, let me know.

Of course, this is a very general sketch of how stuff just came together to form the universe in which we exist, and there’s no indication that that is anything more than just small things—or esoteric things, really, such as quantum fields and their local perturbations—interacting with each other and making patterns on larger scales, much as water molecules can clump into fantastic patterns in the frost on windows or in snowflakes when they get cool enough.  Simple (well, relatively simple) rules at small scales can come together to produce surprising things at larger scales when they all interact at secondary, tertiary, quaternary and higher levels.

If you want to see how remarkable that tendency can be even in two dimensions, find a website that lets you play “John Conway’s Game of Life” and see how stable and active and interactive shapes can arise from even truly simple rules.

What was my point?  Sorry, I got distracted there for a minute.  Oh, right, I just meant to say that the things that happen and that all seem very real and important and even inevitable and fundamental are largely the products of stochastic processes interacting in ways that ultimately are far from being representable by any kind of linear equation.

It’s entirely possible and plausible that, if the rules of the quantum fields—or the specific types of quantum fields*** involved—were different, and thus interacted with each other differently, they might still accumulate into structures and functions on higher levels, and though they might produce a universe that would be all but incomprehensible to us, and in which we could not survive for an instant, they might nevertheless form structures and processes that could become what would have to be called “alive” and even “aware” and “intelligent”.

But in how many such universes would there be creatures that name the days of whatever passes for their weeks after various astronomical bodies (or whatever they have that is comparable) and random mythological figures from different places and times?

I leave it to the reader to speculate.

*There’s only so fast anything can be spinning, since no part of the spinning thing can exceed the speed of light.  Even black holes have a maximum angular velocity.  Nevertheless, both the angular velocity and the net axis of rotation can be more or less continuously variable.  If we can apply the real numbers—which ironically may not be possible in the real world—there is an uncountably infinite number of possible ways for angular momentum to be nonzero.  That makes zero really unlikely and unstable.

**Astronomers call any element but Hydrogen and Helium a “metal”, which is a very loose use of the term if you ask me.  I think many astronomers would agree, and sometimes I think I detect more than a tiny amount of embarrassment when they tell people that astronomical definition.

***Or the configurations of strings and branes if superstring/M theory turns out to be correct.

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Monday morning, wearing down

Well, it’s Monday again.  Time keeps marching on without respite, as it is apparently wont to do, “progressing” in the direction of increasing entropy, whether time is a fundamental aspect of the universe or an emergent phenomenon.  In either case, there doesn’t seem to be any sort of time stream or time vortex like in Doctor Who, but rather a process that simply is a linear dimension with some “entanglement” (not to be confused with quantum entanglement) with the dimensions of space, such that motion and acceleration in space changes one’s “motion” in time, in an updated version of the Pythagorean Theorem.

For those of you who like to share the joke about “Yet another day when I didn’t use a2 + b2 = c2” you’re really depriving yourself of a deep understanding of something that turns up in and governs a ridiculous number of the things and processes in the physical reality in which you live.  Consciousness—despite clever but tortured sophistry (in my opinion) by some prominent philosophers of mind—in no way appears fundamental to the universe*.  On the other hand, the Pythagorean Theorem, which was neither invented nor discovered by Pythagoras, applies in all levels of dimensions, however many you might conjure, and with the modification to make it reflect velocities, it applies to spacetime as well.

There can be no readily conceivable brains** in two spatial dimensions, but Pythagoras nevertheless applies.  In one dimension, it doesn’t really apply, but in one dimension there are no triangles of any kind, so it doesn’t make much difference.  It’s difficult to imagine how consciousness could possibly occur in one dimension (notwithstanding the seemingly one-dimensional paucity of ideas held by so many people, especially in politics).

Anyway, enough of this nonsense.  Well, it’s not nonsense, but it is rather pointless meandering of random thoughts that interest no one but me, and will probably lose me readers.  Weirdly enough, people seem to come and read more often when I write about my depression and self-hatred and anxiety and ASD and how there’s absolutely nothing going on in my life that makes it worth living.

Well, rest assured, all those things are still present and active and driving me toward an early grave, which in some senses will be a release, or at least an escape of sorts.

I keep trying to think of things to engage myself and my interests, but so far to no avail.  I think about asking my boss to give me back my black Strat to play at the office, or I consider bringing in another guitar, or maybe even getting a portable keyboard or something, but when I think of any of them, I cannot even imagine doing anything but sort of staring at them as if I don’t even know what their purpose is.  I don’t play my guitars or my keyboard at the house, either.

It’s likewise with even fiction, other than silly Japanese light novels that take a day or so to read (not continuous time).  I think I like them mainly because of the social interactions of the characters, many of the main ones of whom are somewhat socially awkward.  It can feel, however briefly, that I have a social group of some sort, as I read the stories.  Of course, that means that once I’m done reading there is a comparative let down, which sometimes makes me feel worse than I did before.

I tried to read some of Feynman’s Lectures on Physics, but I lost interest almost immediately, though he was a brilliant and engaging teacher.  I also tried to read some of Anthony Padilla’s Fantastic Numbers and Where to Find Them, which is also very good and fun; if you’re interested in who he is, you can check out the YouTube channel Sixty Symbols, and sometimes Numberphile.  He shows up in both places fairly often.  But in any case, though I like his book (I’ve read it before) it has not been able to grip me.

I’ve also tried to start reading Stephen King’s novella The Life of Chuck, since it’s now a movie and is getting positive reviews.  At least Stephen King is almost always an engaging read.  But I’m not sure I’m getting into the story.  Quite a while ago, I started the first story in If It Bleeds, the collection in which the above novella appears, but I couldn’t get into it at all.  When I can’t even get into reading Stephen King***, things are looking bleak.

I did watch the rest of the latest series of Doctor Who, and it was pretty good, and quite surprising at the end, but Batman only knows when the next series is going to happen, and there will only be a handful of episodes if it keeps up as it has been.  That’s too little too late for me to use as motivation for continued existence.

I don’t know what to do.  I really don’t know.  I feel very lost and, more importantly, very much without any internal impetus.  I can’t even listen to songs I like, let alone try to sing along (or play) without feeling like I’m going to cry, though I don’t understand why.  I’m at the end of my rope (I have two, and both are tied into nooses, just for “fun”).

Anyway, that’s enough.  Sorry to bother you with my crap again, but in my mind, you asked for it by complaining about my tedious math and science stuff.  I hope you have a good day.  Unless you’re lucky (or I am) I’m sure to be back again tomorrow with another blog post.

*The only reason I can discern why some people think consciousness is fundamental to the universe is that consciousness is fundamental to human experience—indeed, one could say that it is human experience—and of course, such people seem tacitly or implicitly to think humans are the measure of all things simply because that is what they are.

**The degree of interconnectivity is just too low.  Connections between 2D neurons would be terribly limited, as would room for such things.  I suppose that, since we can always map anything three-dimensional onto some two-dimensional surface, à la Bekenstein-Hawking black hole entropy and the holographic principle, we could construct a sort of brain in 2D, but that’s a tortuous process, and seems quite unlikely.  Of course, 4D would give us even more available connectivity than 3D—also there are no knots or tangles in 4 spatial dimensions—but there are other issues with 4 (macroscopic) spatial dimensions that would seem to get in the way of life as we know it, such as the nature of gravity (and other forces) and the rate of such forces’ diminishment.  For instance, the force of gravity (and electromagnetism, etc.) in four dimensions would fall off at a rate proportional to r3 rather than r2, and there are apparently no stable orbits in such situations.

***What’s worse, I cannot even get into reading Tolkien.  I’ve tried.  When neither Stephen King nor Tolkien, nor even well-written science books, can engage me, something indeed has happened.

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O heavy lightness, serious vanity, misshapen chaos of well-seeming blogs

Hello and good morning.  It’s Thursday, of course‒thus the “traditional” opening salutation‒and here I am again, writing another in a line of hundreds of Thursday blog posts.

Have I said all that I could say, already?  Probably not.  The number of possible 800+ word strings of English writing is surely unfathomably vast.  If I were going to try to give some kind of upper boundary, we would consider that there are a few million words in the English language, and I could just try to solve for a few million to the 800th power.  That’s a huge number (104800). But most of those combinations‒all of them, effectively‒would be nonsense.

By “all of them” I mean that, if one applies the constraints of grammar, or even just of making tolerable sense to a potential reader, the number of strings of 800 coherent words is so much smaller than the number of possible strings of 800 words without care for sensibility that, if one were looking at some shape or field that represented the latter, the former would probably be too small to see, given the constraints on the resolving power of visible light.

It’s a bit like the possibilities implicit in DNA.  The human genome is on the order of a billion or so base pairs* long, if memory serves, and each “site” on the genome has 4 possible “letters”.  So, the potential number of sequences of DNA in that genome is on the order of 4 to the billionth power, which would be 2 to the 2 billionth power, which is about 10 to the 600 millionth power (10600,000,000).

That’s a huge number. Remember, a googol is merely 10100, and it is already a number that far exceeds the number of baryons in the (visible) universe (which is on the order of 1080).  And remember how exponentials work:  every time you add 1 to the exponent you multiply by the base number, in this case 10.  So, 10101 is ten times larger than 10100.

As you can see, the number of possible DNA sequences is beyond astronomical, at least unless we get into, say, the measures of entropy represented by an event horizon, as an indicator of the number of possible quantum states it could have “within”.  But distances and times and numbers of particles in the accessible universe are unnoticeably small compared to the number of possible sequences of DNA**.

However, the vast majority of those base-pair combinations would certainly not code for anything that we would consider human, or indeed any other living creature that’s ever existed on Earth.  Most are the analogue of throwing random words together to make a blog post.  They wouldn’t come close to coding for anything that would be a living creature.

Nevertheless, even ruling out all the nonsense, the number of possible viable human genomes is vast.  It may still be larger than the number of particles in the visible universe, but don’t quote me on that‒I haven’t checked those numbers.  In any case, it’s much larger than the number of humans who have ever lived, and probably larger than the number of humans who will ever live even if the species goes on to become cosmically significant.

What this all comes down to, I guess, is that I haven’t come close to writing all the possible blog posts I could write, even ruling out ones that wouldn’t make any sense and even ruling out ones that differ from others only by a word or two.  I guess this blog itself constitutes a case in point.

But boy, it can be a lot of work trying to write something new every day, and even more work trying to write something interesting.  That’s why I don’t bother with the latter criterion; I just write whatever comes out, which is usually something at least mildly interesting to me, and I figure it’ll reach kindred spirits if they happen upon it‒and if such people even exist.

Speaking of kindred spirits, I hope you all have a lovely day.  At least I hope it will be as good as it can possibly be‒which it will, since once it’s happened, it can’t have been otherwise than it was.

TTFN

*In case you don’t recall, DNA is a long chain molecule of polymerized “nitrogenous bases”, adenine, guanine, thymine, and cytosine.  Because each DNA base can pair up only with its complementary base (A with T, G with C) this allows for high fidelity copying, and thus reproduction.

**Now, if the universe is spatially infinite‒which it looks like it is, but may not be‒then of course the number of particles or quantum states or even planets with life would be infinite, and thus larger than any possible finite number, no matter how big you might choose.  Fun things happen when one deals with infinities.

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Therefore the Moon, the governess of blogs, pale in her anger washes all the air

Hello and good morning.  It’s Thursday, the first of May*, the beginning of yet another stupid month.  They just keep coming, on and on and on, so irritatingly relentless that I find myself wishing for the elimination of the Moon and the destabilization of the Earth’s rotation and orbit just to break the tedium.

I know that would inconvenience a great many other people, though, so I’m not going to try to make it happen.  To be fair, it would be much “easier” to alter the Earth’s rotation than to shift the Moon.  A decent-sized asteroid collision at the right angle could alter both the rate of Earth’s rotation and its angle to the ecliptic.

Of course, such an impact would have devastating consequences for almost everything and everyone on the planet’s surface.  So that’s a win-win scenario!

I’m kidding.  But I often fantasize about wiping out all life as we know it, because none of it is truly benign and it’s all futile and will always be marked broadly by fear and pain and other suffering, because all those things are evolutionarily vital (in the literal sense).  I shouldn’t choose that for other people, though, so I probably would never do such a thing even if I could.

Thinking back to earlier, though, I’ve been pondering the question of just how one would move the Moon in its orbit, and I thought about the reflectors up there in the old Apollo landing sites, still used (last I checked, anyway) to measure the distance to the moon with great precision.

There have long been discussions about how to alter the course of an asteroid that looked to be prone to intercept the Earth.  One way might be to vaporize a portion of the asteroid, causing its “outgassing” to act almost as a rocket propellant, and by Newton’s third law (or, equally valid, by the law of conservation of momentum) the asteroid would shift its trajectory in the direction away from the artificial outgassing.

Well, what if one were to train powerful lasers at one site on the surface of the Moon**?   The fact that the moon is tidally locked with Earth means it’s constantly showing the same face to us, so one could keep focusing on the same portion of the surface.  One could study the albedo and absorption characteristics of the surface of the Moon to try to pick the best wavelength for causing “outgassing” of that surface, and that outgassing would propel the moon away.

It would be a slow process, since the Moon is big, and shifting its orbit significantly would require the delivery of quite a bit of energy, but that’s okay.  One could set up a single laser (or pair of them on opposite sides of the Earth, or more if one desired faster effects) perhaps solar powered and using ordinary telescope-style tracking equipment and software, to train the lasers always on the same point on the surface of the moon.

Gradually, the Moon would shift away from Earth (you’d need to keep adjusting your aim a bit), more quickly than it currently is, and eventually:  lunar liberation!

Of course, even given the abysmal state of science on Earth (and particularly in the US right now), people would eventually notice the Moon moving, and they might even notice the “outgassing”.  But a lot could be done before then.

If one wanted to have a much quicker effect, or rather, a more instantaneous effect, one could develop a large depot of antimatter, which we know how to make in particle accelerators.  Storing antimatter is challenging, of course; it must be kept within electromagnetic fields in high vacuum, since it will annihilate if it encounters its matter counterpart.

Still, with enough time and patience and care (and money), one could gradually accumulate a large stockpile of antiprotons and positrons, perhaps stored adjacent to each other so their mutual electrical attraction makes containment slightly easier.  Then, when one had gathered enough, one could launch it toward the moon in a fairly standard rocket‒it wouldn’t need to be manned, and it certainly wouldn’t need to return to Earth.

Release your tons (I would guess) of antimatter onto the surface of the Moon, perhaps at the center of “mass” of its face that points toward Earth, and watch the fireworks!  There would be complete annihilation of matter-antimatter in a release of energy far more extreme than any mere nuclear weapons could produce.  Heck, if you wanted to bypass the whole Moon process, you could just accumulate your antimatter here on Earth over time, maybe near some damage-multiplier like the ice caps or near a super volcano or something, and release the containment when you’re ready.

In a typical nuclear explosion, less than one percent of the mass involved in the reaction is “converted to energy”***.  In an anti-matter reaction, ALL of it would be converted.  Imagine releasing hundreds of times more energy per kilogram than the most powerful nuclear weapons.

Of course, antimatter is absurdly expensive to make, but economies of scale might help that.  It’s not as though one would be expecting a profit‒unless one went the Bond villain route and used one’s anti-matter bomb to hold the Earth for ransom, which is a thought.

That’s enough of that madness for now.

Speaking of madness, today begins “Mental Health Awareness Month”.  I would say that I’m already aware of mental health in a general sense, I just don’t have much personal familiarity with it.  Mental illness, mental dysfunction, mental dysregulation, these are things with which I am more personally acquainted.  I’m only too aware of them.  Physical health falls into a similar position.

All right, well, before I discuss more ideas about how to alter or eliminate all life as we know it‒I’ve many such ideas, I’m afraid‒I should draw to a close for the day.  In case you can’t tell, I’m not right in the head, am I?  So this is a sort of appropriate month for me, especially coming as it does right after Autism Awareness Month.  Batman only knows what will happen next.

TTFN

*Also known as May Day.  I wonder how that came to be used as a distress call, as in, “Mayday, mayday, we are going down!”

**Alternatively, one could, in principle, use a very large array of adjustable mirrors on Earth, and they could be shifted to reflect sunlight and focus the reflections on one spot on the moon, but to get a strong effect would require a worldwide collaboration or at least acceptance of these mirrors.  It’s hard to see that happening.

***I used “scare” quotes because technically it’s all energy to begin with, it’s just changing form.

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Please eschew sour grapes, or at least don’t chew them…they’re sour.

I don’t really remember what I wrote yesterday; I remember that I was angry, but it wasn’t really about anything solid or sharp, more just a general sense of frustration and despair.  I really felt and feel at a loss, with no sense of meaning or purpose or deep value.

I can’t claim to think that feeling is unreasonable; the world provides plenty of evidence for the pointlessness of all things.  I suspect that most people just try to avoid thinking about it.  They distract themselves with religions and other ideologies and with social interactions, whiling away their time until everything finally breaks down and they die.

Some surely die in a state of bewilderment and fear, never having accepted or even having truly contemplated their own mortality.  Some probably find comfort in the aforementioned religious ideas or just in community.  Having the love of family and friends, especially if such people are with them near the end, must help relieve at least some of the dread and pain as things wind down.

It must be at least some comfort if, when one is dying, one has loved ones nearby, helping to provide reassurance or at least just company.  If one has loved ones who willingly and lovingly attend to them while they are dying, or even just want to be there with them, one must at least be able to think that one has done something right in life.

Anyway, I’m on my way into the office, still rather sick but definitely improving.  I’m coughing, but not as badly, and the goo I’m bringing up is thinning out and looking less like some weird, opaque resin made from peas.  I’m still far from optimal, but then, I only started getting sick about six days ago.  If I’m substantially over it by, say, Friday, well that will have been a decently circumscribed illness, especially considering just how badly I’ve been feeling.

Somewhat ironically, my illness at least distracted me‒temporarily‒from the degree of my back, hip, ankle, and shoulder/arm pains, and those are becoming more prominent again as the illness recedes.  This leads me to wonder to what degree interferons or “tumor necrosis factors” and other aspects of the immune response can have beneficial effects on chronic pain, or if indeed they can do so at all.

It might be interesting to do a retrospective study involving, say, people who were treated with strong doses of interferon (with ribavirin) for Hepatitis C, or even for cancers such as melanomas, and who came out the other end healthy, then to try to learn whether any of them had chronic pain before starting treatment, and how the pain responded to the treatment.  We could compare them to age (and otherwise) matched cohorts who did not receive any such interferon treatments but who had similar amounts of chronic pain and see if their courses differed in a statistically significant way.

Of course, those high-dose interferon treatments for Hep C had their own serious complications and side-effects.  For instance, they could trigger serious depression even in people with no previously known disposition to have mood disorders.  These outcomes were generally worth the risk, if one could thereby eliminate chronic Hepatitis C, which is associated with significant morbidities and pathologies, not the least of which are potential liver cancer and sclerosis.

Still, if I could go through, say, a six week course of such treatment and thereby reduce (or eliminate) my chronic pain, I think it would probably be worth it.  I’m depressed and suicidal anyway.

Of course, we’re a long way from such a study outcome, even if we had unlimited funding and could start the study tomorrow.  Money can help make a lot of things easier to do, but as Kansas pointed out in Dust in the Wind, money has no effect on time*, and some things just take time.

I don’t expect to see such a study done, let alone to be able to benefit from the results, and honestly, I don’t have a high credence that it would show clinically useful effects.  After all, my own pain is not diminished now as I’m getting over my illness; it’s just changing back to baseline.  And, unfortunately, taking a vacation from one pain to another only to come back to the original one is probably not something anyone would really seek out***.

That’s enough for today.  I hope you all have a decent one‒do please try, at least.  Someone should, and it would be nice if most such people were reader-types who like blogs rather than wealthy assholes who don’t give much of a shit about anyone else, though those are the people who seem most likely to have happy days most often.

Not that wealth means someone is undeserving of happiness; that’s a non sequitur, really‒sour grapes projected onto the world by those who resent and envy the wealthy (sometimes with good reason, sometimes without).

Do your best.

*Okay, if you had enough money, all in one place**, you might form a massive enough object that it would measurably slow the local passage of time.  Heck, you could make a “money black hole” if you could get enough of it together and compress it enough, and at the event horizon, time would stop (to an outside observer, anyway).  Of course, according to GR, a black hole is a black hole is a black hole, with only mass, angular momentum, and charge differentiating one from another, so it wouldn’t matter if the black hole was made out of money.  Quantum mechanics demands otherwise, though, and thus we have the famous “black hole information paradox”, which isn’t really a paradox, anymore than is the “Fermi paradox” (When you come to an apparent paradox or contradiction, that’s just an alert, saying “something you’re doing here is incorrect or incomplete.”)

**Even if you’re just storing that money as information, with no bills or coins, there is still energy associated with the information, always.  So enough information about enough money could still have gravitational effects.

***Then again, there is the phenomenon of deliberate self-harm, and I can tell you from experience, it is sometimes a way of diverting oneself from a pre-existing, chronic pain to another pain, one deliberately and personally chosen.  Does that count as a pain vacation?

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Maybe it’s signal. Maybe it’s noise. Maybe it’s Maybelline?

Well, it’s Tuesday, and I don’t know that I have anything of use or substance to say, or anything to say that isn’t mostly just noise.  Perhaps I’m just some peculiar source of radio static in the background of the universe.  Or perhaps…perhaps I’m just pretending that what I do is unplanned, when in fact everything is calculated and subversive.

Ha!  I wish.  My brain doesn’t work like that, and I’m not sure anyone else’s does, either.  Even John Von Neumann had to develop complex mathematics and sophisticated models to deal with the limited degree of uncertainty in highly simplified versions of one-on-one poker.  If he was so intrigued by what he‒possessing perhaps the highest general intelligence of which history is firmly aware‒could not fully model, then this is strong evidence that no one, now or ever, has really been in control of anything.

Of course, game theory has advanced since Von Neumann co-invented it, and it is certainly useful, but it is clear that, at best, it deals in probabilities and tendencies.  There is no Asimovian 2nd Foundation Hari Seldon psychohistory that can figure out the specific events of whole galactic civilizations well into the future, and I doubt there ever will be.

Of course, if we want to be trivial, we can predict the far future with some degree of confidence:  Eventually, unless our knowledge of the universe is deeply mistaken*, as entropy increases inexorably, new stars will stop forming, old stars will burn out (even red dwarfs), black holes will evaporate, and the universe will be a thin haze of elementary particles.  Indeed, if everything eventually reduces to massless bosons (e.g., photons) then in a very real sense, time will literally have no meaning, since photons, being massless particles, do not “experience” time.  From their point of view‒to speak very figuratively‒their entire existence is instantaneous.

Of course, going on to the very far future, given the nature of probability, new universes may arise.  Something like Penrose’s conformal cyclic cosmology may be the way things happen, or there may merely be a Poincaré recurrence of the universe.  Or maybe, as I’ve speculated previously, time is not one way, and our future might also be the future of another, far distant “big bang” but for which time/entropy increases in the opposite direction.

Also, of course, if civilization and intelligence persists and grows, which is not a small “if”, then who knows where technology will develop?  Our descendants could conceivably develop the capacity to do cosmic engineering, literally shaping the large-scale development of the universe, or even making new ones.

But I suspect they still will not be able to micromanage perfectly the interactions of innumerable agents in complex systems.  Some limits are fundamental, and I think this may be one.  This comes down to something related to my “Elessar’s First Conjecture/Theorem”, that no complex, intelligence can ever fully understand itself in detail, because to model a given complex system requires a system of greater complexity, which itself will need to be described, leading to an infinite regress.

And, of course, we know that in complex systems, in which interactions are stochastic and multivariate and nonlinear (and thus exhibit chaotic development) the specifics of future happenings will be unpredictable since to know them perfectly, we would need an infinite number of significant digits**, though in some cases‒like entropy‒we can make general predictions with high confidence.  

This is part of why “planned economies” fail, and almost certainly always will, unless they are stupendously lucky.  In any case, such luck will not last, just as neither strength nor good purpose will last in the presence of the One Ring.  This is also why most complex conspiracy theories are simply laughable.

People derive their models of the world to too great a degree from our ubiquitous visual entertainment, which has been around long enough to be deeply self-mimicking and self-derivative.  Gunshots and explosions don’t behave in real life the way they do in action movies, but action movies (and shows and videos) take their models of the world from previous action movies, much as an AI’s model of human speech and interaction, if derived from the internet, is going to be increasingly contaminated by the products of other AIs, and may end up veering far away from anything reminiscent of human interactions, at least if left to its own devices.

Maybe that’s an advantage of written fiction over movies and TV and other videos; it’s not presenting a simulation of some version of reality, it’s telling you a story, describing things, but you have to imagine them.  Meanwhile, if all your fiction is in words, your physical intuition of the real world‒and your psychological and sociological and economic intuition‒would be derived from real events, not the Machiavellian machinations of Manichean movie-based manipulators.

That was an interesting stream of consciousness, if I do say so myself (and I do).  Who could have predicted it?  Not I.  And I’m the one who wrote it.  Which goes to my point.

Please try to have a good day.

*This is always possible in principle, but for many aspects of cosmology, our credences can be justifiably high.

**I sometimes say that while knowledge can vary greatly, ignorance is always infinite.  This can be proven with a single, simple example:  the digits of pi.  There are an infinite number of them, and no matter how many we calculate, there will be an infinite number we don’t know.  Ditto for e and any other transcendental numbers, let alone all the other real numbers that have no specific designation, of which there exist an uncountable infinity.  And this is just one place where infinite information dwells, of which we will always have only finite knowledge.