writing

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April, come she has. No contradictions allowed.

Well, it’s the first of April, so‒April Fools!  Except that, given that it is April Fools’ (Fool’s?) Day, to say April Fools about the fact that it is April 1st would be contradictory.  It’s rather like the self-paradoxical statement:  “This sentence is a lie”.  Because if that sentence is a lie, then it is not a lie, but that would mean that it is a lie, but that would mean that it isn’t, and so on.

Of course, one can write paradoxical things down any time one wishes.  That doesn’t constrain or harm actual reality in any way whatsoever.  Words‒and written language especially‒are the single greatest human invention, but they are not literally magical.  No matter how much hatred you try to put behind it, or what manner of “wand” you use, shouting Avada kedavra will never kill anyone or anything*.

And while we can imagine that the world would be much more polite if words could directly cause things to manifest‒including paradoxes‒I think we can all feel pretty glad that people can’t kill us just by telling us to drop dead.

So, make up all the paradoxical sentences that you might like; no actual paradoxes can exist.  If you come to a point of cognitive dissonance, you should probably focus on the fact of that discomfort and try to sort it out.  People can “believe” two or more contradictory things (sometimes before breakfast) but they cannot be right about more than one (though they can be wrong about all of them).

Anyway, enough of that nonsense.  It’s mildly engaging, but not terribly durable as a topic, or so it seems to me at this moment.

I am still (as far as I know) unable to use any of Fuckerberg’s apps, and to be honest, I haven’t even tried since before the last time I wrote about it.  It’s annoying, to some degree, to lose access to some entertainment, but it’s not as though I had any right to their use.  I was not the customer, I was the product, as is the case with all of you, too, if you use your social media for free.  Facebook et al sell advertisers access to and information about you.

Now, if I had been kicked off some service for which I had paid and for which I was paying, then I would have a beef**.

Speaking of paid services, what I really should do‒what I want to crave doing‒is to spend those moments that I would spend looking at funny reels on Instagram or whatever doing stuff on Brilliant dot org.  I pay for that service, and it is very good.  I also have a lifetime subscription to Babbel, which I obtained to try to encourage myself to learn more languages (duh!).

So, at some level, at the frontal lobe level, I want to use those sites and their services, to hone and increase my skills.  Otherwise I wouldn’t have contracted the services.  But in any given moment, the activation energy required to begin using them is higher than that for doing other, less beneficial things.

But maybe now that will be a bit different.  Maybe now that differential, that equilibrium, will shift.  I mean, it’s almost certain that it has shifted, or has begun to shift.  It’s all but impossible for one to remove a large factor from a situation that is in dynamic near-equilibrium and to have that near-equilibrium remain unchanged.

I hope that I shall be able to make use of this to improve my mind‒at least to improve my abilities, if not the overall nature of the thing.  At least it would be good if I get some more such use in.

I will miss the sort-of-social-circles one can have and the connection with old friends and distant family members on social media, however tenuous and removed and even occasionally illusory it might be.

I don’t socialize in real life, other than at work during the working day, and that’s a limited thing.  So I feel a little worried about being more disconnected from larger society.  We all know what happened to Melkor when he spent too much time in the Void, away from his brethren, and started to develop thoughts…unlike theirs.

Well, maybe we don’t all know, but read The Silmarillion if you wish to learn more.  It’s really good.

I guess I always have this blog and those who follow it, at least (and that’s no small thing).  I am concerned that some people who only see the blog via Facebook or Threads might not get to interact with it now.  But they are all hereby encouraged to leave a comment or two below.  I welcome them.  Seriously.

That’s all I have to say about that for right now.  I hope you all have an excellent day.

*Unless maybe you swallow a small insect or similar when you open your mouth.  I don’t think that’s how people imagine “the killing curse” working however.

**I’ve been aware of and have occasionally used this expression for as long as I can remember, but it does sound very weird if you listen to it as if from an outsider’s perspective.  “Wait.  You have a…beef?  You have a beef?  What the hell are you talking about?”

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I Meta traveler from an antique land…

I brought the lapcom back to the house with me yesterday, but I’m writing this on my smartphone even so.  Part of the reason for that is that the way I have to sit in the train to use the lapcom can sometimes put tension on my hips and back and knees, and I’m already having a particularly bad 36 hours (so far) with my chronic pain.  This is on top of being still sick and then also having had all of my “Meta™” based accounts‒Facebook, Instagram, Threads‒permanently disabled.

Yes, that’s right, I did the little appeal button thing and in very short order (a time so short that we know that no sentient being was involved in the entire process) it was denied and my accounts were permanently disabled.  I did put in a request for a downloadable file with all my info but that hasn’t worked so far‒the only link I received requires me to access my no-longer-existing account to get my data.

I’m sure there’s some legal process through which one could go if one wanted truly to fight the thing.  Lawsuits could be filed.  Or, what would be more satisfying, Luca Brasi could be sent to visit.  But though vengeance is always attractive, I don’t have the energy even to fantasize about it right now.

Honestly, I’ve lost everything I literally, physically had more than once* in the past 20 years.  This virtual stuff is chicken shit.

I enjoyed the sites mentioned, of course.  It was fun watching cosplayers and seeing funny memes and the various video rants on Instagram.  Facebook was nice for seeing what people from my past are doing and keeping in vague contact with them.  Threads was actually, literally useful for my mental health on at least one occasion.

But beyond the basic, straightforward bit, I’m sure as gravity not going to fight to try to keep them in my life.  If they want me gone then I want to be gone even more.  Actually, no, that isn’t really how I feel, that’s merely a bit of rhetoric.  I just don’t see those things as part of my identity, so while their loss is a disappointment, that’s one of the fundamental features of life:  it is inherently unsatisfactory.  I don’t see how it could be otherwise.

It is curious that only the Meta® platforms gave me grief.  I still have Bluesky, and The Website Formerly Known as Twitter, and Substack, and of course, here (WordPress).  You would think that the people at Meta℠ wanted to promote their competitors.

Or, perhaps, someone in other venues is hacking existing Meta©-based accounts, posting flagrantly inappropriate things, and getting all sorts of people kicked off those accounts so they’ll be forced to use one (or more) of the others.  It’s diabolical!

Not really, of course.  It’s actually more pathetic than anything else.  Or it would be, if it were happening, which I doubt it is.  Still, humans compete over sillier/stupider things than that in order to jockey for position in their particular baboon flange.  It would take a lot for them to shock me.

Given that I am, perforce, not using Instagram, maybe I should try TikTok, what do you think?

Not likely.  I’ve never felt seriously interested in that venue, though I gather it has similarities with Instagram.  It just feels like “more of the same”.  And I have some things in common with the “antagonist” of my short story Penal Colony, in that social media can be briefly engaging for me, but I get tired of it pretty quickly.

I use YouTube a lot, but that’s because it has actual, full-scale content, educational or entertaining or both, requiring an actual attention span.  I’ve learned a lot via YouTube, and I’ve had a lot of laughs, sometimes both at the same time.  But eventually, even I can only rewatch the same videos so many more times.  The same is true even for books, though, so no shade to YouTube there.

Substack, of course, has actual scholarly articles and discussions from serious thinkers of various stripes.  I’ve mentioned occasionally the possibility of either moving my blog there or maybe just reposting some posts there.  But that’s a lot of work, and I’m lazy (or, well, the vector magnitude of my interest is not as great as the vector magnitude of the anticipated irritation of the process).

Who knows, maybe this will be a beneficial occurrence?  Then again, almost anything can be seen as beneficial depending on what measure of beneficence one uses.  As the saying goes, “it’s an ill wind that blows no man any good”.  Something has to be very, very bad indeed in order for no one and nothing at any level to benefit from it.

There are many paths to pretty much any destination, and the quality of one’s own path, judged retrospectively, is a measure that is heavily subject to cognitive biases.  This in itself can be useful, though it isn’t always so.

Anyway, for now, don’t look for me on Facebook or Threads or Instagram.  I’ll share these posts via Bluesky and Substack and X, but you can always find them here where you are now.  If you want to “message” me, well, the comments below are always open (within reason).

I hope you have a good day.

*Really, more than twice, depending on how completely and irrevocably lost one requires everything to be to count is a member of that set.

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Sometimes drunkards walk to interesting places

Well, well, as the oil tycoon said*.  It’s Saturday now and I am actually writing a blog post, as I expected I would.  It’s been three weeks since the most recent prior Saturday morning post (not counting my “non-post” from last week).  But today, this weekend, I am going to work, and so I am writing a post.

I hope you’re proud of yourself.

Okay, well, that last sentence doesn’t really make sense in this context, but I felt the curious and rather inscrutable urge to write it, and there was no real downside to doing so, so I did.  These are the sorts of things that happen in biological, nonlinear, largely subconscious brains that are communicating using language (especially written language, in my case).

A truly efficient, direct, deliberately programmed AI (not a neural net style, LLM type of AI, but one whose algorithm is precise and understood) might not produce such erratic and seemingly peculiar thoughts.  But maybe it would.  Maybe one cannot have actual intelligence, with creativity and the like, without having a system that meanders a bit into the highly tangential.

I suspect this may be so, because in order to grow and gain new knowledge, to be creative, there has to be a capacity to embrace the unknown‒not in an H. P. Lovecraft sense, but more in a sense reminiscent of Michael Moorcock’s** character that strode into chaos and by interacting with it caused it to become a locally specific order***.

The potential paths into the future which one might, in principle, explore are functionally limitless, and may actually be infinite.  It’s not possible to evaluate them comprehensively through any kind of linear logic‒not in the time span available to the universe, anyway.  So, to work things better, there must be a bit of potential for “randomness”, for moving forward into a future that is one’s best guess, or into which one has narrowed down at least some of one’s choices.  Then one can find a “good enough” path or course of action, one which may produce insights and outcomes that were not, in practice, predictable by any finite mind.  (In a way this follows from the fact that, if you can precisely and specifically predict what insight you are going to have, then you have already had it.)

It’s a bit like evolution through natural selection, where the mutations are effectively random, but the survival of those “mutants” is not at all random, at least in the long run, on a large enough scale.  Still, there’s no pre-thinking involved, no teleology, merely “motion” that is constrained (by differential survival due to the facts of surrounding nature).

Even if one has a fairly specific goal, trying to plot out one’s way through the phase space of one’s potential future paths in a very specific and precise and preplanned course is unlikely to be doable.  It may not be preferable even if it were possible.

It may be analogous to trying to get from one location to another in, say, the same city, by following a direct, straight line from one spot to the other.  One probably won’t be able to make any progress at all for very long; buildings and streets and vehicles and the like are probably going to get in the way.  Heck, the very surface of the Earth could be an impediment to any truly straight path, since it is curved****, but we’ll stipulate that you can follow a geodesic (the shortest distance between points on a curved surface).

Anyway, if one precisely follows only a preset straight path, even if one can more or less achieve it, one misses out on many potentially beneficial but unpredictable paths.  Imagine one is heading to one’s usual, mediocre but tolerable, fast food restaurant for lunch, and one only goes straight there without even looking around.  One might well miss seeing all the many other available restaurants, some of which one may find preferable‒perhaps by a great margin‒to one’s “planned” place.

That’s a slightly tortured metaphor, and I apologize for that fact, but I hope you know what I mean.

It doesn’t do‒usually‒to try to make progress by a true random “drunkard’s” walk.  I don’t recall what particular power law the number of possible outcomes follows, but it grows very rapidly, perhaps exponentially, with each new step.  But if one keeps one’s long term goal generally in sight, and one heads in that general direction, adjusting for buildings and railroads and hills and lakes and so on, constantly assessing and, when necessary, adjusting one’s course, one can usually not only get to one’s destination rather well, but one can encounter new sights and new experiences along the way.

Some of these encounters might even make one decide to change one’s goal of travel, having found a better one (by whatever criteria) as one went along.  That’s not going to happen to someone who is dogmatically focused on only one path and only one goal.

Okay, well, that’s my rather stochastic blog post this Saturday.  I hope you are already having an excellent weekend, and that it continues to be excellent (or if it is not yet excellent, that it becomes so in short order).  Thank you for reading.

*To his son, Derrick.

**I don’t remember which character‒it’s not Elric‒or which story.  My apologies.

***Of course, as I think I’ve said before, order is not the opposite of chaos, but is rather a subset of it.

****It is.  Seriously.  There is no reasonable doubt about that fact, and it has been known to humans for at least 2200 years, since Eratosthenes calculated (correctly) the circumference of the Earth using distance along what was effectively a geodesic and the angles of two simultaneous shadows.

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Blog, we know what we are but know not what we may be.

Hello and good morning.  It’s Thursday again, and out of tradition I’ve started this blog with “Hello and good morning”, which you’ve already seen but might not have noticed.  Speaking of tradition, I’m also writing this post on my lapcom, partly for just a changeup, and partly because my thumb/wrist arthropathy has been acting up quite a bit, so I brought the lapcom back to the house with me on Tuesday evening.

Speaking of Tuesday evening going on to Thursday morning, I was out sick yesterday, and so I did not write a blog post.  I did work from “home” for a bit, because it was payroll day, and obviously I needed to get that done or else people won’t get paid.  But I wasn’t in any mood to write a blog post from the house.  I didn’t even have the energy to leave a little quasi-post like I did on last Saturday, just to let people know that I was not going to be writing the expected full post.

Honestly, I don’t feel terrific even today, but I do feel a bit better than I did yesterday, at least for the moment.  If human civilization were sane or even slightly reasonable, I would feel no qualms about taking a second day off, because no one else would expect otherwise.  But I cannot feel comfortable doing that, even if other people would not mind.  It’s a pathology, of course, but there it is.

Still, if I leave things at the office for too long, when I get back it becomes too stressful because there’s so much catch-up work to do (thank goodness, we got rid of all our mustard work long ago)*.  Luckily, I still have plenty of face masks available.  Indeed, I often consider trying to find a brand that I like and can wear every day, all day.

I’m not a fan of my face.  There are too many signs of the past 20 years or so on it.  It’s possible that these signs are things no one else would notice, but that hardly matters, because I am the one bothered by it, and I and the one stuck with this face.

It’s not an emergency.  I don’t feel like I must cover up my face, like Doctor Doom or the Phantom of the Opera or something.  It just annoys me.  Don’t get me wrong, I don’t wish I looked like someone else, anymore than I wish I were someone else.

I can’t even see how that could work in principle.  If everything about me changed into someone else, I wouldn’t exist anymore, I would be someone else.  But that wouldn’t be me experiencing the process of being someone else; it would just be someone else.  Nothing of me would come along.

I guess I just would prefer it if I could be a better version of me.  I work on it, of course; I don’t just wish for it.  I’m always trying to improve in any way that I can.  And the good and bad thing about self-improvement is that there is no finish line.  One can always be better—by almost any criterion one might choose—than one currently is.

This is similar to—and may be related to—the nature of intelligence and ignorance.  Intelligence can increase without any known limit, in principle, but everyone is always infinitely ignorant and always will be.  There is always an uncountable infinity worth of potential information one could know but does not (just within, for instance, the digits of π alone, apart from the uncountably infinite other Real Numbers).

This is a blessing and a curse, as such things tend to be.  It is a curse in the sense that one can never know everything there is to know, and therefore, in principle, one cannot know that one knows the most important things to know.  On the other hand, it is a blessing to know that one can always become smarter, more knowledgeable, than one currently is.

You can’t keep building muscle indefinitely; you can’t run faster or swim faster or bike faster without limit.  New Olympic records are set by tiny, tiny margins.  But while there surely is a physical upper limit to possible human intelligence—based upon information theory, thermodynamics, neuroscience, general relativity and so on—as far as we can tell, no one has ever gotten close to that upper limit.  You can keep learning new things every day that you are alive**.

This is a notion I wish more teachers would explain to their students.  Yes, it’s true that different people have different aptitudes for different subjects.  But unless there is real and serious pathology, anyone can get to the goal in time.  Your fundamental limits are processing speed and memory.

If your onboard, RAM-style memory isn’t great (and no one’s is VERY great) then you can store things externally, using written language.  If your processing speed regarding, say, 17th century British literature, is slow, you may reasonably choose to do something else.  Had you but world enough and time, you could learn anything, but you don’t have world enough nor time.  In principle, though, you could learn it.

Motivation, drive, impulse is/are factors holding people back more than anything else, as far as I can see, and it’s perfectly understandable.  Thinking requires a lot of effort—fully 20% of our bodies’ calories are used by our brains***.  One wants to choose as wisely as one can just to what to apply that energy.

In principle, one cannot know for sure if one will make an optimal choice—that’s the whole “unknown unknowns” thing—but that’s part of the point of decision theory.  We have to make decisions with incomplete information, pretty much every single time.

That’s okay.  It’s much more fun to be surprised by the things one learns than just to have more of the same.  The most exciting non-personal moment in my lifetime so far was in 1998 when it first became clear that the universe was not merely going to keep expanding (rather than recollapsing) based on data in the supernova studies, but that the expansion of the universe was increasing in speed!  Literally, my picture of the whole universe changed, and it was amazing.  I cannot properly explain just how invigorating it was to learn about this.

Look at me, being slightly positive in my blog.  I must be ill, huh?  Anyway, that’s enough for today.  Presumably, I’ll be writing another post tomorrow, but I never make an absolute guarantee.

TTFN

*Sorry, I know it’s a stupid joke, but I’m sick.  Please give me a break.

**And in a certain sense, you do this no matter what:  at the very least, you learn what it is to experience that day.

***Though there is reason to suspect that some politicians use a significantly smaller percentage, as do some of the people who vote for them.

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“Something knocked me out the trees – now I’m on my knees”

Okay.  So.  I don’t know what to write today, even more so than usual.

It’s Tuesday, of course.  Though I guess there’s really no “of course” about it; I mean, it could be any day in principle, but it happens to be Tuesday, and I’m up and about, going through various stages of heading to the office as I write this.

At the end of the work day, I will head back to the house and prepare to do it all over again.  Lather, rinse, repeat.  I won’t say “as needed”, because I think it’s probably rather nebulous just how necessary these daily repetitions really are.  Certainly neither the universe nor civilization depends upon me doing any of the things I do.

I suppose that “work” is weakly dependent upon me, in that if I suddenly just stopped coming, they would have to find someone else to do what I do, or divide things up among those already there or something.  That’s not such a big deal, of course.  It happens all the time.

There may be a few people who look forward to my blog every day, though it would be pretty arrogant to consider them “dependent” upon it.  I would much prefer for people to be “dependent” upon, or at least to look forward to, my fiction.  It would be easier to keep writing it if I thought more than one person would actually read my stories, and that maybe people would even tell me what they thought of them*.

I suppose that sort of thing might seem fairly trivial in the face of various events happening in the nation and the world, but on the other hand, those things are trivial in themselves.  There is certainly no good reason for any of them other than that human nature‒while possessing functionally limitless potential‒is almost always prone to default to the level of screaming monkeys.

Each political moment of the world feels so…well…momentous to the people going through it, but these kinds of things have arisen and passed away over and over throughout history.  Probably most such happenings are even outside of history, parallel to it if you will, because many of them are not even noticed beyond their immediate time and place, even by some of the people who experience them.

They are all rather laughable in their self-important yet ephemeral character.

I don’t know why I even notice, let alone care.  I guess maybe it’s because the human race does have such potential for greatness, for the creation of beauty‒by whatever criteria you might measure beauty‒and for making the world a place that’s better than it is in every reasonable way.  Yet, they do not have the intellectual and moral humility to realize how great they could make things.  Ironically, if people were able to stop thinking of everything as being about them, whoever they are, they could participate in a world that could easily be better not just for everyone else, but for them as well.

Of course, it’s honestly difficult not to knee jerk one’s responses to reality as if it were about oneself.  Meditation can help, if only by dissolving the “ego” and decreasing the tendency toward reflexive belief in the inner homunculus.

It would be nice if Earth had its own Surak who succeeded in convincing humanity that calmness, mindfulness, and rationality are not merely options but probably among the best ways to secure a beneficent future for Earth and life and intelligence.  That’s assuming that this is indeed true, which I strongly suspect it is, but do not know for certain.

Wouldn’t it be remarkable if, instead of training our children to believe in the literal truth of fairy tales that are hundreds to thousands of years old (and benighted even for their times of origin), extorting their behavior and “belief” with threats of Hell (or the equivalent), we encouraged our children to be mindful, to be curious, to be patient, to recognize their fallibility, but at the same time, as part of that, to recognize their potential to do truly remarkable and wonderful things.

But left to their own devices‒as they all always are, since even the Powers That Be are just other naked house apes, not significantly different than themselves‒people tend to choose the monkey way.  Or, rather, they go that way by default, never recognizing that they have a choice.

Only if you recognize that you are a monkey can you really, deliberately choose to become something greater.

Only by recognizing your fallibility can you begin to succeed at deliberately chosen and often amazing things.

Only by recognizing that you are not special can you truly steer yourself toward doing things that are special.

Okay, all those “only” beginnings to the above homilies are presumptuous in the extreme, but they make for better quotables than more restrained language would provide.

I’m not a fan of rhetoric‒if you need clever wordplay to convince others of your points, perhaps your points aren’t all that good‒and one of the reasons I’m not a fan is that it is just so damn tempting.

Oh, well.  This is all stupid anyway.  Sorry.

*No trolling though.  I don’t mind reasonable criticism, especially if I find it convincing, but when people are assholes just for the “fun” of it, I see no problem with them being dealt with as one would a troll in an RPG or a book or a movie.  Imagine how much more pleasant the world would be if all people prone to trollish behavior were turned to stone, or barring that, turned to worm food and ash.

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“You know the day destroys the night. Night divides the day.”

It’s Friday again.  But it’s not just any Friday‒it’s the Vernal Equinox, the day when the line between the Earth and the Sun is orthogonal to the line of the axis of the Earth, and so the day and the night will be (effectively) of equal length.  This is more fun in some ways than the solstices, because it’s the same for everyone, northern and southern hemispheres.

Of course, in the north it’s officially the Vernal Equinox, heralding the beginning of spring, whereas in the south it heralds the beginning of autumn.  I don’t know, however, if it is officially called the Autumnal Equinox in the south.  Probably it is.  After all, I’m sure they have their “official” winter solstice on what is “our” summer solstice and vice versa.  It would be a bit perverse for them to do otherwise.

It’s somewhat interesting to note, as Neil DeGrasse Tyson has pointed out with some ardor, that since, for instance, winter officially begins on the “shortest”* day of the year, the days actually get longer and longer through the winter (and the opposite happens in summer), until finally, on the Vernal Equinox, they break even with it and then daytime passes the night.

I wonder what Zeno would say about that race.

On a different topic, it’s quite rainy here this morning, and it’s a rather chilly rain, which is mildly unusual for south Florida.  It occurred to me, seeing just how sloppy it is here at the train station, that I hope it will not be so rainy at my destination.  What’s interesting about that is that it may not be rainy at all there, at work.  And yet, it could still be raining heavily down here in Hollywood.

In the modern world, weather can seem to change much more rapidly than it really does because we travel through the weather, whereas throughout all of our ancestral time we would merely have seen the weather passing over us.  It can give a somewhat misleading impression of how quickly the weather changes, even in Florida, where it can be raining on one side of a street and dry on the other**.

I recall when visiting my grandparents as a child, that there were times we would all be going somewhere in the car, and as we went along it would start to rain heavily, all of a sudden‒and then, just as suddenly, as we went along, it would stop.  And then it would suddenly start again, and then stop again, and so on.

But even in south Florida (or, well, west central Florida back then) the weather doesn’t change like that if you’re sitting still.  It changes quite rapidly compared to many other places, but not the way it seems to do when one is traveling in a modern vehicle.

For some reason, I feel as though there’s an analogy or insight available here with respect to special and possibly general relativity, but I don’t feel like trying to explore it right now.

I did bring my hardcover copy of General Relativity: The Theoretical Minimum, which is part of Leonard Susskind’s Theoretical Minimum series, with me when I left the office yesterday, thinking I might read it while on the train last night.  I did not read it.  There are too many distractions, it seems, for me to be able simply to flip my attention into focus on that, however much I really am interested in it.  It’s frustrating.

I have read part of it, mind you, as well as parts of the other Theoretical Minimum series.  I have all of them in both physical copies and on Kindle, so really, I didn’t need to bring the physical book.  But it is a lovely hardcover edition, and I hoped that might make me more likely to read it, since reading a nice hardcover is much more pleasant than reading a Kindle book on one’s phone, though that can still be fun.

I also entertain the admittedly absurd fantasy that I might be reading the hardcover copy on the train some day and some other, like-minded person (preferably an attractive woman) might notice and be interested because she is into the subject as well, and so on.

This is particularly silly as pipe dreams go, because even if such an absurd event happened, I would definitely screw the whole thing up.  I tend to be quite terse when strangers try to speak with me, even if they are beautiful women.

Looking back on my life, I’m sure that there have been several occasions in which someone was expressing interest in me, but I didn’t get it or got too anxious and froze up.  Sometimes I figured it out soon after, and sometimes it took longer.  There are probably some cases that I never noticed at all, even in hindsight.

Of course, I was married for fifteen years, during some of which I was in medical practice, and so such interactions would have had a different character.  There were sometimes more flagrant and obvious “advances” in that time, because, well…doctor.  But I never had any inclination to pursue them, even when I recognized them; I’m not the kind to want to cheat on a partner.  Hell, I’m not even the kind to seek a new partner two decades after my wife divorced me (though I briefly tried a little).

I wouldn’t mind a nice relationship, but I know that I am difficult to handle in many ways (I try not to be, but I am weird, and not in some charmingly popular manner), and in certain senses, my standards are high, or at least they are fairly strict.  For instance, someone who doesn’t read for pleasure is unlikely to be terribly interesting to me.  It’s not impossible; there are other ways for people to be interesting and smart.  But not liking to read would definitely be an entry for the “con” column, not the “pro” one.

I don’t know what I’m doing, going on about such nonsense.  I am not going to have any more romantic relationships in my life.  I am going to die alone, as is only appropriate and to be expected for something like me.  And while I won’t say “it can’t happen soon enough for my taste”***, I do really feel impatient for it.  I wouldn’t say I am “eager” for it, because that’s a positive feeling.  I am just quietly desperate for it, like someone trying to find an exit from a (slowly) burning building.

Anyway, that’s enough for today.  I hope you have a good one, and that you have a good weekend as well.  Yes, I mean you.

As for me, well, I am to be working tomorrow as far as I know, so I will be writing a blog post tomorrow, barring the unforeseen.

*Of course, this is a bit of a misleading characterization.  The day is the length that it is‒roughly 24 hours‒and does not change very quickly, for which fact we should all be grateful.  It’s just the length of time in a given day during which the sun is above the horizon (so to speak) that varies.

**This is not an exaggeration.  I have seen it myself on many occasions.  It seemed to happen more frequently in the area where my grandparents used to live (Spring Hill, north of Tampa) than it does down here‒or maybe I noticed it more because I was a kid‒but it is very real and quite impressive when it happens.

***Except to say that I won’t be saying it.

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Is it small talk if you discuss the weather despite being alone?

Well, I brought the lapcom back to the house with me yesterday evening, but nevertheless I am writing this post on my smartphone.  Why?  Because the lapcom is more inefficient to get out of my bag and put back in my bag, and the smartphone is much easier to unsheathe and restow‒it just sits in my front pocket when not in use.  I can also use it to check the temperature, which is a bit chilly this morning even here in south Florida.  I’m sure that it’s quite a bit worse for regions north of us that have been hit by the wave of unpleasant recent weather.

I don’t find it unpleasant for it to get a bit cool down here‒55 degrees Fahrenheit* with a bit of overcast and some rain feels like autumn up north where I grew up, and that was always my favorite season.  It’s usually rather easy to adjust by wearing more clothes and moving around a bit if one feels chilly.

On the other hand, there’s not much to do about the heat and humidity other than to stay inside air conditioned buildings.  That isn’t very much fun, unfortunately, especially when one lives in a state that is touted for its beautiful and interesting nature.  After a point, though, one can take off as many clothes as one likes, but one will not get cooler; one will only be at risk for sunburn in rather uncomfortable places.

The worst part, though, is the humidity.  Yes, humans developed in sub-Saharan Africa, so we’re built well for endurance in hot environments (humans have more sweat glands per square inch of skin than any other animal).  But humidity is another matter.  Humidity is almost like an electronic counter measure to sweat’s ability to cool the body.  Sweat works by evaporative cooling; like blowing on soup, taking away the warmest liquid molecules lowers the average temperature of those remaining, and so on.

But evaporation depends at least partially on the differential in concentration between the liquid and the gas “above” it.  If the air is already saturated (or nearly so) with water vapor, there is going to be significantly less tendency for net evaporation to occur, and thus there will be less cooling.

This is why the reassuring and somewhat comical statement, “Yeah, but it’s a dry heat” is actually pertinent and indeed positive.  If the air is dry, and if they have adequate water, humans can tolerate surprisingly intense heat.  But when it’s humid, things don’t work nearly as well.

Also, when it tends to be humid and rainy a lot, one finds fungi and algae and the like growing on almost every immobile surface, as well as on some that are mobile, such as human intertriginous areas.

Anyway, to make a long diatribe slightly longer by summarizing it, I don’t mind cooler weather, but humidity is very annoying when it’s warm.

As for other matters, well, the holiday is over from yesterday, and I did not get to eat any corned beef and cabbage.  That’s a bit disappointing.  The next major holiday (which is coming soon) is the Passover/Easter holiday.  There’s no particular food related to these holidays that I like, though, nor really much of anything else come to think of it.

I did get into the St. Patrick’s Day spirit by drawing a shamrock yesterday, then scanning it and coloring it and fiddling with it a bit between other things at work.  Here, this is how it’s turned out so far:

It’s nothing terribly impressive, but it’s at least one very tiny, mild, creative act.  Not that writing this blog isn’t creative, but it’s not as creative as writing fiction, or not creative in the same way.  And drawing a picture is closer to writing a story than to writing a blog post.  Though I have to admit, at first glance drawing and writing would seem to be somewhat too different to compare.  And yet, I think I’m not the only person who has a deep, intuitive feeling that they are part of a strong, self-similar group.

It’s quite curious.  I wonder if such seemingly odd combinations are common among intelligent life forms.  Of course, if this planet is the only place in the universe on which intelligent life exists, then it’s a universal attribute of such life, if we count only creatures that use languages and create and use artifacts.

Well, this has been a weirdly inconstant blog post, especially for a relatively short one.  It’s not just meandering around among topics, it’s ricocheting.  I would prefer to meander; ricocheting seems like it would be very bad for my chronic back and joint pain.

*If it were 55 degrees Celsius, it would not be chilly at all.  Indeed, many people would be dying around here from the heat.  If it were 55 Kelvin, then, yeah, that would definitely be chilly.  Not that anyone would feel it, because we would all be dead if it were that cold.

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“Silence will fall”

Oh, right, today is Saint Patrick’s Day, a holiday celebrated more intensely (but far less religiously, I suspect) in the US than in Ireland.  It’s a holiday in which everyone here is said to be a little bit Irish.  I am largely Irish, in fact (by ancestry), so I feel no need to put on an act.  I also am not going to wear green today‒it’s been a long time since I’ve worn anything but black‒and I don’t recommend pinching me, or the only green you’ll have to be concerned about will be whether that will be the color of your rotting corpse or just the color of the bile leaking from your perforated gall bladder.

I certainly don’t expect to drink any beer or stout or even Irish whiskey today.  I do like corned beef and cabbage, and there’s a restaurant near work that makes a great meal of that, but they will probably be a bit oversubscribed today, and I really hate having to jockey with other people for such things.  I would rather go without.

I guess I’ll see what happens.  Getting corned beef from the restaurant is the sort of thing that’s enticing from a (temporal) distance, but the closer one gets, the more it loses its charm and feels not at all worth the effort.

There is an astonishing number of such things.  So many things are so much better in the anticipation than in the experience.  Even James Bond, in the Ian Fleming novels, noted that his favorite drink of the day was the one he had in his head before the first actual one*.

So, the anticipation is better than the payoff in many cases, which goes right along with my recognition that pleasure and joy cannot ever be durable outcomes, biologically speaking.  It’s not an evolutionarily stable strategy.

One might imagine that one could build up one’s anticipation of a thing, but then trick oneself and not give oneself the reward in the end, but the anticipation modules only really become active if you believe that they will be satisfied.

Failure to get the reward after anticipation can be more unpleasant than never anticipating it, as I think most people would agree.  And then, of course, after repeated disappointments, one stops anticipating, so one loses even that positive aspect of the situation.  “Edging”, as they call it, is only reliably pleasurable because of the knowledge that eventually there will be release.

Okay, that’s enough vaguely risqué crap.  I guess it may be better than dealing with all my dark stuff, which I have been withholding deliberately and consciously of late, since it just seems to make people uncomfortable but doesn’t engender any useful ideas or beneficial interactions or anything remotely resembling help.

So, apart from minor stuff like this, I’m going to just hold the negative thoughts back from sharing, and when I break, that will be it.  Like Keyzer Soze ( “And then, like that [fwoof]…he’s gone!”) you’ll probably never hear from me again. 

That will probably not be today, by the way, just in case you’re worried.  If someone thought some crisis were imminent today they might panic and actually, accidentally do something.  But of course, that’s a horrible way to approach matters, only intervening in a panic when catastrophe is right in front of one, at the very last moment‒when success is least likely‒when intervening earlier might actually have a decent chance of producing a good outcome.

It seems so intuitive.  If you’re trying to go somewhere, the sooner you realize you’re headed in the wrong direction and correct your course, the easier it will be to get where you want to go.  It’s easier to steer the future in the direction you hope to reach if you start the steering early (if you do it intelligently, anyway‒randomly twirling the steering wheel will almost certainly be worse for you the sooner you start doing it).

As Benjamin Franklin once wrote, “An ounce of prevention is worth a pound of cure.”  Sometimes the disparity is far more stark even than that.  Sometimes, without prevention, the possibility of a cure is moot, because a lost patient cannot be treated, let alone cured.

Enough.  This, like everything else, is stupid.  Where is Sailor Saturn?  Let there be no alarms and no surprises.  Let there be silence.

*This is second-hand information.  I did not read it myself.  I have tried on more than one occasion to read a James Bond novel, but I could barely last a few pages.  Somehow, I found it utterly non-gripping.  I’m glad other people liked the books enough to make movies, because I really like some of the movies, but man, based on my sample, those books are dry.  Pussy Galore would be ashamed**.

**I know, that’s a rather raunchy and not very good joke.  Sorry.  Let’s pretend I’m already drunk from celebrating the holiday, and that’s why my judgment is impaired.  It’s not true, but the fact that it isn’t true doesn’t stop us from saying it, curiously enough.

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Meandering moody Monday musings

In case you were wondering if you might somehow have missed it:  no, I did not write a blog post on Saturday (the one just two days ago, I mean‒March 14th, 2026).  It turned out there were a number of people who would not be able to come in to the office, making it pointless (more or less) for the few who remained.  One of our best closers had to go out of state to a wedding, and another’s spouse was having medical issues, and so on.

As for me, I am always “available”.  This is one of the perks of having no life.  I have no spouse or significant other or physical friends or family fewer than hundreds to thousands of miles away.  So, I can dedicate the last calorie of energy, the last ounce of will, the bitter dregs of my spirit, to throwing my remnants onto the incineration heap of gainful employment.  Though I also reserve some energy to spend on twisted, tortured, melodramatic metaphors, as you can see.

Anyway, we rescheduled things, and we will be working this Saturday, i.e., the next one coming up in the current direction of time, so I expect I will be writing a post on that morning, five days from now‒unless I am lucky enough to get severely ill.

It seems that everyone keeps getting sick on and off around me, but I don’t catch nearly as many even potentially life-threatening infections as many other people do.  I guess that’s one of the side-effects of not really interacting with other people in person (or in other ways, for the most part).  The most I could catch here would be a computer virus.

Anyway, I know that’s probably not at all interesting, but I’m just the one writing it; you’re the one choosing to read it.  I’d prefer you to read my fiction, but I know that costs money.  It also doesn’t tend to come in relatively bite-sized chunks, as a daily blog tends to do.  Though, to be honest, I sometimes write rather big blog bites, and they probably taste a bit strange, as well.

I sometimes think about‒and sometimes write about‒setting up a Patreon, or maybe just doing something simpler like that “Ko-fi” thing, where people can do the equivalent of buying someone (e.g., me) a cup of coffee as a thanks for their work.  The problem is, I would feel awkward about asking my regular readers for money, though maybe that’s weird.

Also, then I would have to try to keep track of the whole thing, on top of the other things I have to do regarding work and commuting and chronic pain and so on.  I mean, I suppose if everyone who comes to read or see my blog every day bought me a cup of coffee each, every single day, I might be able to write full time, that might make it doable.

And, if wishes were horses, what would be the result?  It doesn’t matter, of course, because wishes are not horses; they’re not even the same kind of thing as horses.  Both words are nouns, but only one of them is a noun representing a physical object of some kind*.  Consider the reverse notion:  what would it mean for horses to be wishes?

If horses were wishes, then riders would be screwed (figuratively speaking).  Because wishes that are fulfilled destroy themselves in a sense‒they make themselves unnecessary‒and so an extant wish is one that is unfulfilled.

That’s all really stupid, isn’t it?  Sorry.

I’m still not sure what to write today.  This is a fairly amusing fact since, at this point, I’ve written over 600 words despite not knowing what I want to write.  It’s not very amusing, but it is rather pathetic in a not-quite-tragic way.

I occasionally, as I’ve mentioned recently, think about doing videos of some of my stuff to put up on YouTube and Instagram (I don’t use or have TikTok, though my published songs are available there, apparently).  These are places (and media) where, it seems, one can get significant spread of one’s work.

But whenever I do test videos of myself talking, I’m very displeased with having to see my face.  Of course, I’ve done several videos on YouTube of me playing music, but though I can feel at least tolerably well-disposed toward those because the focus is on the music, I nevertheless get embarrassed to see them.

And somehow, it seems to me that, with each new video, I get uglier.  I know, it’s unlikely that this perception is accurate in any objective way, since it honestly doesn’t make much sense, but I cannot seem to change my impression of myself.  I have tried wearing masks of one kind or another when doing videos, and that helps, but it’s a bit weird, probably.

Part of the problem is probably the perils of parallax:  when one is close in to the camera, as one tends to be with smartphone-based videos, the photons from one’s face come to the lens from relatively wide angles, making one’s face seem slightly wider than it actually is on the flat video sensor and the video.

Maybe that’s part of why my music-playing videos don’t bother me as much‒they were taken using a camera that was a good six feet away (or nearly) and so gave a much less distorted image.  This raises possible partial potential remedies** for my video issues.

All of this is probably just pipe dreaming, anyway.  I don’t have the mental energy and drive to get my bicycle tire repaired from last year, nor to pump up the tires on my other bike, nor to do much of anything except go through the pre-programmed motions of a very uninteresting and inconsequential and all but completely empty life.  But at least it can sometimes be distracting to pretend.

*Though, in a very real sense, a wish is something physical, because wishes occur as states in the nervous systems of (relatively) intelligent mammals, so they do occur as physical things.  But you still couldn’t put a saddle on one and ride it.

**I was unable to come up with a p-word that really worked here.  Oh, well.

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You’re so vain, you probably think that nothing matters

I was going to start by saying that I had probably written all I could about Friday the 13th and the fact that there are 2 in a row when non-leap year Februaries have Fridays the 13th, and that a first glance might lead one to think this should happen roughly every 7 years on average*.  However, as I noted last time I discussed this, because the leap year day is in February, we will not have the two-in-a-row Fridays the 13th (February and March) as often as we might otherwise; it will not happen every 7 years on average.

Then, this morning, after recalling that today was Friday the 13th, I ran through the next years’ Fridays in my head in the shower, and it occurred to me that the next Friday the 13th in February‒which will be in 6 years, as I noted in the past‒will not be followed by a Friday the 13th in March!  2032 (six years from now) will be a leap year, so there will be 29 days in February, so there will be no Friday the 13th in that March.

The next paired ones, then, will be a further 5 years after that, in 2037 (not a leap year).  It would have been 6 years later, but there are two leap years in that interval, 2032 and 2036, so the next one comes a year sooner than it would otherwise.

It occurred to me that, because of the frequency of leap years, which is almost twice that of the cycles of days of the week, the frequency of those paired dates may well be once every 11 years rather than every 7.  At least those are both prime numbers.  I’m not going to work out some exact formula right now, though.  It’s not really important.

Of course, one could say that nothing is truly important, and I am persuadable along those lines.

There is a Doctor Who Christmas Special (the one from series 5) in which the antagonist/guest protagonist (played by Michael Gambon!) describes a woman in a cryo chamber as “nobody important”, and the Doctor characteristically responds by saying, “Nobody important?  Blimey, that’s amazing.  You know, in 900 years of time and space, I’ve never met anyone who wasn’t important before.”

This is typical Doctor, of course, but it raises the objection Dash (from The Incredibles) voiced when told that everyone is special:  Saying that everyone is important can be the same thing as saying no one is.

Of course, important is in the eye of the beholder.  But then again, the beholder is not important, either, except in its own subjective estimation and perhaps that of a few other, equally unimportant, owners of such eyes.

So, yeah, one could argue relative and subjective importance from local points of view, which is valid but more or less vacuous outside its small scale as far as I can see.  On a cosmic scale, it’s all just dust and shadows.  But you could also say that about the entirety of the cosmos itself.

I guess import has always been subjective, even though people are not inclined to see it that way.  But, of course, people are the products of their “local” forces, and they are not responsible for the laws of nature, nor for the things which have happened in the past that have affected them in the present (which could come under a certain interpretation of “the laws of nature” in and of itself).  I won’t get into all that now.

Going back to the shower, but on an entirely different subject, I was also thinking about the effects of diminishing amounts of shampoo in the bottle on the center of gravity of the bottle.  At the start, when it’s full, the center of gravity is roughly in the geometric center of volume of the whole thing.  But as one uses the shampoo, the center of gravity shifts lower and lower, since the air replacing shampoo in the upper part of the bottle is much less dense than the shampoo or the bottle.

But then, as one gets to the dregs, the smaller and smaller amount of shampoo in the bottle contributes less and less to the overall mass distribution of the bottle and its contents, and the center of mass begins to head back up.  Finally, when the bottle is “empty”, the center of gravity will have returned to almost the same place it was when the bottle was full.

All that’s fairly trivial, well-known stuff, I know.  But it got me to thinking about how much of the laws of physics, such as the laws of gravitation (Newtonian form), are solved using such concepts as the center of mass, which is really just a way of combining and averaging the effects of numerous tiny bits of gravitating material as if they were concentrated at one point.

Much of the mathematics of physics works this way, coarsely approximating the very fine details of reality in a way that provides reliable, reproducible guidelines and can produce testable predictions.

But the granularity of reality doesn’t actually ever go away, not at any level.  Even at the level of the quantum wavefunction of a single “particle”, the actual behavior of the thing as it interacts with things in the “larger” world is the summation of the effects of all the possible quantum states of the electron superposed upon each other and interacting with things‒everything‒which are also just collections of superpositions of quanta.  That superposition happening in a “space” that doesn’t directly coincide with the macroscopic space we experience, but whatever its dimensions are, they are real, because they have durable, reproducible effects.

Mathematics may be unreasonably effective in the physical sciences, as Eugene Wigner famously noted, but it seems not to be a refining of description but rather an averaging out, a glossing over, the inking of an underlying rough pencil drawing which nevertheless still constitutes the real, original picture.

It may be that, in a sense, all science is just various forms of statistical mechanics.  We know that, at larger scales, we definitely need the tools of probability and statistics to navigate as best we can the territory of reality.  And yet, we don’t teach this sort of stuff to most people, ever.  I wrote a post about this on Iterations of Zero, if I remember correctly.

I could go on about all this rather easily, I guess, but I am using my smartphone today, and my thumbs are getting sore.  That’s okay; yesterday’s post was probably way too long, anyway.

If I did a video of my thoughts on this I might be able to get into more detail, though it would probably be even more erratic and tangential than my writing.  Still, maybe it would be worth trying.

In the meantime, I’ll write at you again tomorrow.

*Go ahead, do a search on my blog page for Friday the 13th; I’m all but sure it will bring up the pertinent blog posts.