Cocktail putsch

What the universe wants.

2011-11-23T09:28:00.001-08:00

I've been inspired by reading Kevin Kelly's book, What Technology Wants:

Why is our universe so friendly to life? All physical constants allow it, some are even finely tuned to decimal points away from excluding it.

The Strong Anthropic Principal was advanced to address the problem. According to this hypothesis, the universe is built the way it is because life is somehow necessary.

My favorite twist on the S. A. P. is that one universe can create other universes and the resulting descendants may vary enough in conditions that evolution can operate. Somewhere along the line life either inserted itself virus-like into the process or arose naturally in the more fruitful creations.

Now, in the same way we can speak of an organism wanting something, say food or sex, we can talk about the universe wanting something. We can even venture into what a universe should want.

Clearly, if the S. A. P. is true, our universe was made to want atoms and stars and life. It looks like it also wanted the water molecule, and DNA. I think an argument can be made that it also wants us, sentient life, to have wants and desires.

To paraphrase Steven Weinberg, the universe is perhaps more beautiful than strictly necessary. I think this means two things.

First, the universe is built to be admirable. Second, life is built to admire the universe. Both may be necessary to help the universe reproduce.

Humans obviously have an aesthetic nature. The universe may require this. We love art and regularity. Physicists often say beautiful theories are more likely to be true.

Art appreciation may be a general feature of sentient life. Birds enjoy a good song and a well made nest. Dogs and elephants show taste in music and even paintings.

Without a sense of beauty we may never have contemplated the universe or developed science. Without science we could never develop strong technological skill. Technology may be one essential trait in advanced universe reproduction.

This universe building business would be much easier if we had an operating manual. Perhaps we are meant to write it and encode it into the next iteration. Maybe it's lying around somewhere waiting for us to find it (Carl Sagan suggested we could look far, far to the right of the decimal point of pi).

If the S. A. P. is true, the evolution of universes is a slow affair, billions of years between generations. The process is hindered by it's asexual nature. Each universe is isolated, incommunicado from any neighbor. However, we can look to the future, when our (or some further universe's inhabitant's) science is advanced to the point where we can open a window to another realm, another cosmos.

On that day, the multiverse will discover sex.

Cut it out

2011-09-27T16:33:00.000-07:00

Senator Patty Murray, via email, has invited me to submit ideas for deficit reduction. After filling out the form on the web site she had indicated, the page crashed. Three times.
I therefore offer the ideas here, confident she will see and appreciate them:

End agricultural subsidies.
Close the military bases in Europe and Japan and in about 100 other places. They may well be able to defend themselves.
End the expensive and painful war on people taking drugs. If you must, tax me a little when I use them.
Privatize air traffic control and Amtrak. Also, forget about that high speed rail jazz.
End Homeland Security. If you must pat me down, offer a happy ending.

These measures will save money and end distortion to the market and as a bonus, we'd all enjoy a little more liberty.
Of course, I have a few more ideas but they may be deemed less practical.

Better living through explosives

2011-08-12T10:08:00.001-07:00

My folks used dynamite to fix a flooded basement.
The downstairs toilet would occasionally disgorge sewage so it was decided to replace the septic tank and drain field.
It was tough going in the front yard, laying the new pipe, unforgiving hard pan soil. It was clear it wouldn't drain very well so we started digging a hole at the low end for the water to go.
Thirty miserable feet later we were still in clay, ladder to the bottom, winching the clay up a bucket at a time when my dad had a great idea: dynamite.
That should help punch through past the hard pan…
So he wired up the dynamite on the bottom of the hole and we threw down some branches and stuff to "deflect" the force. We kids were stationed on the road out front to stop any traffic and the switch was closed.
I was about forty feet away. There was a nice, loud bang, a short pause, the road convulsed and knocked me down.
The blast had no appreciable impact on the clay. We called it good and packed the well with loose dirt and gravel.
The basement toilet seemed to work ok for the next twenty years and then the sewer came to the neighborhood.

Door to Door

2010-11-01T09:18:00.001-07:00

The children were much more serious about Halloween than we were.
They'd ring the bell and I'd display the goods and usually someone would ask "How many can we take?" Once I said two, one good piece and one bad, and that set them to work. Little hands hovered over the selections, and came to a group decision: Twizzlers were good and Almond Joys were bad. One defector stage-whispered to a friend as they rushed away "I took two Good ones."
Another time when asked how many I said "One point five," which puzzled them only a moment. A little pirate quickly figured it out. "Oh, that means one candy and one cards" (we also offered small decks of cards which proved unpopular). All of that group followed his example.
We had fifty to sixty kids this year. A neighborhood blog (myballard.com) provided a googlemap for households to display Halloween participation and this may have boosted activity.

porch raising

2010-10-19T09:53:00.000-07:00

A couple of springs ago we started hearing strange sounds at night. Something like a rusty nail being slowly drawn from a two by four, not far from our bedroom window. As the days passed it got louder; we could feel the vibrations throughout the house. Pretty freaky.
We started staying up to catch the noisemaker.
One night we spied a 'possum squeezing out from under our wooden porch. Now there is a gap between the concrete and the porch of less than two inches and we watched the whole structure move up and down as she worked her way out.
Mystery solved but we were still curious so one morning I pried up one of the steps and there was Mama and her little ones staring up at us with that frozen death rictus grin they use in extremis.
We burst out laughing and nailed the step back on.
Oh, and Mama had a fresh red scar on her back from wiggling in and out from her den. I had to admire such devotion to her litter, but after she vacated the den we filled in the gap.

Coat and pants

2010-05-03T08:33:00.000-07:00

A dim don did moan in his rue
and cursed the clergy, Earth's haters
"They gave me just one B. S. clu:
when I've passed Ed's asp this game craters."

Think I'll Have One Now

2009-06-21T15:43:00.000-07:00

Mix in a microwave safe cup 3 tablespoons of a good dutch cocoa, 3 tablespoons of sugar (table or superfine) and a pinch of salt. Stir in a little water; you're looking for about a 30 weight consistency.

Nuke for 25 to 35 seconds on high!

Add a splash of vanilla extract and you have a quick and dirty ice cream sauce for two, or heat it up with a cup of milk for a nice, rich hot cocoa for one.

Give me an F

2009-03-27T11:34:00.000-07:00

It seems that any fool can write about evolution as I shall demonstrate:

Consider an entity that makes copies of itself.

Do we now have a population of identical replicators?

Some copies, of course, may meet the complex environment and quickly bite the dust. Some may escape damage and some may be altered. There may be incorrect copies.

The majority of the population may well be identical to the the parent but as waves of copies bounce against the world and are perhaps changed errors may survive and reproduce.

Assuming fairly constant circumstances the original parent and it's clones will churn out product over time with an average reproductive success rate of F, which stands for fitness. Higher F values mean more descendants.

Any variant can only have a value for F that is smaller, larger or the same as the parent.

When altered copies have a nonzero success rate then we should expect the population over time to be dominated by high F variants. This allows for a larger pool of possible variation.

A change in circumstances may favor a low F variant; smaller pools with fewer varieties may not survive a new environment at all.

An inconstant world drives a population with differing strategies.

Catastrophic Seedballs!

2008-12-26T12:13:00.001-08:00

Occasionally, every X million years or so, the Earth is slammed by a extraordinarily large and fast comet or asteroid. The land shakes violently, tsunamis scour the coasts, raining debris heats the air and pummels the ground. The resulting dust storms will likely induce an ice age.

For perhaps hours or days the temperature of the atmosphere is raised in some places as high as that of boiling water, followed by several years of freezing dark. A majority of species, and most life will die.

Can we do anything? Consider the aftermath. Any surviving animals, be they insects, chipmunks or people, that crawl out of the ice will face a bare and chilly world without food or shelter. Encouraging quick plant growth should be our main concern.

I'll concentrate on a way to preserve seeds through this period to establish a new ecosystem as soon as possible.

As an idea, imagine an amalgam of manure and straw, in the form of a ball, with the seeds mixed in (feel free to imagine other possible compositions). Dip it in some insulating foam to allow it to survive the heat and cold, spread them far and wide and wait for things to warm up again. They should be designed to disintegrate when wet, allowing the seeds to sprout and grow, yet not fall apart prematurely.

One way to test seedballs is to make differing batches, bake them in a oven for a day and store them for a year or more in a freezer. Set them out on some soggy, ash choked piece of ground and see what happens.

The first generations of seedballs won't work very well. Assembling something that can protect seeds for so long at such temperatures is probably difficut. No seeds, or at most a very small percentage will live to germinate.

Several generations of testing may be necessary before a combination of materials and seeds can be found that has a chance of success.

However, even a poor seedball could be viable with some cover. Bury them under a little soil or toss them in a lake and they might survive post-impact conditions quite well.

Of course, the ideal is a seedball that is inexpensive to make and easy to distribute. If they can be frozen for years, so much the better. Take them out when needed. They could also be spread around at any time, as they are made, even if no particular threat loom. If they germinate, no big deal. If disaster strikes unexpectedly, we are that much better prepared.

Imagine a time when we do not have a significant space presence but we detect the inevitable comet en-route to a meeting with our vulnerable planet. We may have years to prepare, or we may have only days. There is no chance of diverting catastrophe, only, perhaps, one of easing the aftermath.

The cost of preparation can be relatively cheap. Of course, grant money can be sent to various universities to investigate seedballs and other possible interventions and it may be a good investment. However, I think an X Prize might be a more efficient spur. After all, the research seems to be fairly inexpensive; seeds and soil, ovens and freezers; nothing very high tech. Anyone can play and the prize need only be paid out for success.

A few million dollars spread out over several decades might be money well spent. The end of the world will be a much more expensive proposition.

Last year's pretty good stuffing

2008-11-26T18:35:00.000-08:00

We did this in a crock pot so first we warmed that up. Sandra and
I chopped up two onions, four stalks of celery and a couple teaspoons
of fresh sage and a fistful of parsley.
I put a large frying pan over medium heat and put in about half a
pound of mild bulk sausage and stirred it around. It stuck a bit so I
poured in a little water and that seemed to help.
When the sausage was brown (there was hardly any fat, for some
reason) I lowered the heat to medium low and added the onions and
celery and about half a stick of butter. At this point you should know
that the calorie load has entered triple digits and it will continue
to climb. This mess was sautéed until the onions were somewhat
translucent.
In a large bowl Sandra deposited two bags of unseasoned bread
cubes and I poured the meat and veggies on top. We added the chopped
herbs and maybe two cups of chicken stock, and I think broth would do
just as well. Two well beaten eggs drizzled over everything before
stirring until it all looked uniformly moist and stuffing-like.
This was dumped into the now greased crock pot and patted down a
bit. I think it cooked on High for 45 minutes and on Low for three
hours.
It burned a little on the sides but the middle was pretty good.

Never Forget

2008-11-18T17:19:00.000-08:00

Over at Great but Forgotten Chuck Rothman is looking for the author William Johnston. He wrote novelizations and media tie-ins by the dozens but seems to have left few traces.
Mr. Rothman's post stirred up some memories:
Sometimes, usually on a Saturday, when my mother couldn't get a babysitter she would bring us along to the escrow office she ran in a little shopping center somewhat north of Seattle. For lunch money, and to keep out of her hair she hand us each a dollar and we'd go explore. This was in the mid-sixties and a buck was enough to buy her a few hours of peace.
Me and my brother would generally head over to the lunch counter over at the Grocery Boys store at the other end of the mall. A hamburger and fries left me just enough for a 50 cent paperback, or a comic and some candy (my brother, however, was all about the food).
One time I faced the spinner rack and saw a Get Smart! book and my heart stood still. Get Smart! I loved that show. Want it want it want it...
But wait... 60 cents? One full dime more expensive than the books I usually found. A ridiculous price! I couldn't see supporting the publishers in this unwarranted inflation, it might give them ideas. More importantly, I couldn't buy it And a hamburger and fries.
But... I couldn't see walking away from Get Smart, either.
So that day I learned something about budgeting, and bought just a hamburger and Get Smart!
And you know, I've never regretted it, but sometimes I buy extra fries.

Global Warming Is Averted

2008-11-12T09:37:00.000-08:00

We see the back wall of a medium size cave and before it stand several fur clad Cavemen around a cleared area large enough for a small fight. A few torches light the scene.

Pok, a tough looking brute shakes his spear and raps the butt on the ground for attention.

"Pok am Big Man here. Pok kill weak man who say otherwise. Pok am Big Man!"

There are a few snarls and a weak chorus of "Pok am Big Man..."

Pok: "Meeting now in order."

The Tribe settle down but not without more snarling and cuffing of each other. Pok shakes his spear and the Tribe quiets.

Pok: "Old things to talk about. Fig will report. Report, Fig!"

Fig: "Fig talk about Bos Fig catch. Fig catch Bos last warm time and hold Bos over cold time."

Smart Ass Caveman: "Fig hold Bos. Fig love Bos."

Some laughter. Fig snarl. Pok shake spear.

Pok: "I spear you!"

Pok waves spear.

Pok: "Talk, Fig."

Fig: "As saying, Fig hold Bos in Cave. Not Fig Cave. Different Cave."

Tall Caveman: "Bos bad. Sharp head. Bos kill!"

General Cavemen muttering: "Bos bad. Bos kill..."

Pok rap spear on floor again.

Pok: "Pok kill!"

Fig: "Bos mad at first. Fig drag bush in front cave, Bos no get out."

General Cavemen muttering: "Ooh! Fig Strong..."

Pok: "Bos no kill Fig?"

Fig: "Bos mad at first, but Fig feed Bos. Feed Bos grass. Bos like grass. Bos and Fig now friend. Soon Fig can kill Bos very easy. Fig eat well!"

General Cavemen muttering: "Bos tasty."

Pok: "Bos particularly good with Fire."

General Cavemen muttering: "Fire good..."

Fat Caveman: "Fat Caveman live near Fig. Fat Caveman no call Bos Bos. Fat Caveman call Bos Stink Butt."

Fat Caveman holds his nose. General caveman laughter.

Pok: "Fat Caveman right. Fig cave stink bad!"

Old Man: "Funny Pok should say. Old Man watch and learn. Old Man learn Ice no like Stink Butt. Ice move away from tribe holding Stink Butts."

General Cavemen muttering: "Ice move? Bad. Bad..."

Old Man: "Ice move maybe good. Ice move maybe more land. Ice move maybe not so cold."

Tall Caveman: "Ice move, no good. Where Ice go? Maybe Ice move to Water and where Water go? Maybe Water come here!"

General Cavemen muttering: "Water come cave? Bad..."

Pok raps spear.

Fig: "Fig want help with grass. More grass, more Bos. Everyone eat well. Everyone fat like Fat Caveman."

Fat Caveman is bashful.

Pok: "Look! Fat Caveman blush!"

General Cavemen muttering: "Fat Caveman strong..."

Tall Caveman: "Tall Caveman no like Stink Butt. Stink Butt bad! Tall Caveman no like Fig!"

Pok: "What we say?"

General Cavemen muttering: "No Stink Butt! Stink Butt bad!"

Pok: "Who like Stink Butt?"

Old Man eyes crowd and sits down.

Fig: "I like Stink Butt! I mean, I like Bos! Bos good!"

General Cavemen muttering: "Bad! Kill!"

Pok: "Sorry Fig. I kill you!"

Pok stabs Fig with spear. Fig falls and dies.

Pok wipes spear on loin cloth.

Pok: "Any new business?"

The Wolfman and me

2008-10-14T13:28:00.000-07:00

Now Randy also turned me on to Doc Savage by handing me a copy of Brand Of The Werewolf. The cover was fantastic with Doc Savage himself in a death grip with what looked like the Universal Pictures werewolf.
Now, from earliest childhood the Wolfman was my favorite famous monster of filmland, followed by Frankenstein's monster and Dracula and then the Mummy. Basically I'd watch any monster movie, at any time but the Wolfman was it.
One time when I was maybe eight I discovered that the late show was featuring something called Frankenstein Meets The Wolfman and my little heart almost exploded with joy. Immediately I began scheming. The folks had left us in care of a babysitter and with a stated bedtime of 8:30. Negotiations would be tricky but I was determined.
The lobbying started in the morning and by noon she was ready to concede, with one proviso: I must eat the prepared lunch.
I was, and am, a picky eater and this sitter had had mealtime trouble with me before. Canned chili was a particular challenge. When the can was opened and I saw the congealed orange grease I could feel the gorge rise in my throat. It didn't matter to me that it melted; I found it disgusting.
The only way I could deal with chili was with an equal amount of ketchup, and lots of crackers and even then it was dicey.
And we were out of ketchup.
The table was set and the stakes were clear. My brother Mike, the Sitter and I, and three bowls and Frankenstein Meets The Wolfman as the prize.
Mike could eat anything but he wasn't in this game, too callow to appreciate the finer qualities of cinema and too young to stay up that late anyway. Although he had an iron stomach he would cry like a little girl when he had a haircut so there.
The chili was ladled out and in my bowl the grease puddled on top. I stared at it and hoped it would somehow vanish. The Sitter restated the rules: "You eat that chili or no staying up late!" As a delaying tactic I crumbled some crackers and asked again if there was any ketchup. No ketchup.
I picked up a spoon and stirred. Mike shoveled his in and the Sitter glared. The moment of truth had arrived.
It was eat or no movie and I just had to see that movie. With a trembling hand I brought a loaded spoon to my face and swallowed.
And paused. There, that's not too bad. I can do this. The grease isn't too bad, although I could feel it run down my throat. Just a bowl of chili. How bad can it be?
The Babysitter smiled and said "Now, that's not so bad, is it?"
I gave her a weak smile back and then projectile vomited all over the table.
No movie that night, but no more chili either. In fact it would be years before I ever saw Frankenstein Meets The Wolfman and I'll have to say that it was ok. Pretty good, but no Abbott and Costello Meets Frankenstein which had not only Frankenstein and the Wolfman but also Dracula, so there.

The Golden Age

2008-10-10T12:03:00.000-07:00

Randy, a friend of mine in junior high somehow knew that I liked to prop myself up in the school library and read old back copies of Science Digest, particularly Asimov's column where he answered reader's questions. I guess he knew this because for my thirteenth birthday he gave me a paperback copy of Foundation and Empire. Actually, now that I think on it Randy had previously turned me on to an anthology of Asimov's science writing, "Where Do We Go From Here?" so the novel was a natural.
I quickly discovered that this was the second volume in a trilogy, which meant that Randy hadn't read it, so I set out to get the first at the family's next shopping trip to Fred Meyers. I found it, begged the money and scored.
Now the actual reading part made me nervous. This particular edition from the Sixties had surreal, cubist illustrations on the covers and that scared me. I didn't understand Cubism so there was every possibility I wouldn't understand the book.
The table of contents was not exactly descriptive of the action:

PART I: THE PSYCHOHISTORIANS 1
PART II: THE ENCYCLOPEDISTS 47
PART III THE MAYORS 91
PART IV THE TRADERS 171
PART V THE MERCHANT PRINCES 203

And the chapters started out with an excerpt from the Encyclopedia Glactica and I knew I hadn't read that! Daunting for someone still reading Superman.
Funny in retrospect. Who is easier to read than Asimov? I couldn't have found a easier introduction to science fiction.

Foundation
Foundation And Empire
Second Foundation

Isaac Asimov

2008-09-15T14:18:00.001-07:00

Crowd Scouring

2008-09-15T09:18:00.000-07:00

Measuring pollution is a tricky business.
Predicting the impact of various levels of offense uncertain.
It is unlikely the legislative process of testimony, deliberation and voting will find optimum moderation in the form of restrictions of output and arbitrary fine schedules.
It is doubtful Congress can divine the expense of compliance.
We may prefer no codified system in this matter.
Consider:
Anyone has the right to monitor their immediate environment, and increasingly the ability.
Any area can support voluntary alarmists.
Even rare observations of possible danger can be communicated quickly throughout a community.
Local records can be used to find the source of pollution.
Outrage can lead to lawsuits and locally gathered evidence can prompt prosecutorial action.
Unsupported lawsuits are costly enough to discourage frivolous actions.
Court directed remedies are specific.
Thousands of legal trials will find better solutions than one legislative act.

Hell yeah

2008-07-14T10:32:00.000-07:00

We saw the Hellboy sequel on Sunday. The credits included a
disclaimer that read, in part, "The depiction of the use of tobacco
products is an artistic choice and not an endorsement..."
Apparently they are cool with demon raising and running
through the streets of New York shooting big fricking guns.

doggeroid

2008-06-11T17:10:00.000-07:00

In a series of gaseous emissions the I. A. U. shat a plutoid.
While not carin' to bash the decision the air is something to avoid:

http://www.sciencenews.org/view/generic/id/33158/title/From_planet_to_plutoid_

Music for the Millions

2008-05-14T13:24:00.000-07:00

This muxtape thing could get quite addictive:

Random Harvest

Alas, muxtape is on the outs and the link is dead

Solar Eddies

2008-05-07T23:10:00.001-07:00

A Solar System orbit visualizer with zoom, pause and wow:

http://janus.astro.umd.edu/SolarSystems/

The Godbroad

2008-05-07T12:13:00.000-07:00

I've just finished reading "The Godfather" and quite enjoyed it. Puzo had noted that he was aiming for Money rather than Art and if so, I'm all for commerce.
Some of the characters are overwrought and improbable but they are vivid and unforgettable and fun to follow. Sometimes I paused and marveled at some clumsy or pulpish writing but each sentence set the scene, the mood or carried the action along.
Back in my high school German class I sat a row away from Barbara Keck and for a while she carted around a thick copy of "The Godfather" and read it compulsively. After a few days we got to calling her "The Godbroad." She didn't seem to mind. Just smile and go back to her book.
I have that same smile.

Bruce Springsteen

2007-09-27T12:06:00.000-07:00

I remember his concert at the Paramount in 1975. People waited in
a line that wrapped counter-clockwise around the building and down
into the northbound expressway entrance at Pike. It was already dark when I joined the ranks crowding the wall a quarter of the way down the ramp, just about where the cars were picking up speed.
The crowd was talkative. We didn't really know much
about this guy. A few months before Rolling Stone ran a short but
killer review of a Springsteen concert saying; See him live. Local stations in Seattle had begun playing some of his songs promoting the tour.
Most of us were here on a whim. Maybe he'd be good? Look at all the people showing up for this guy, a relative unknown. This was starting to look like an Event.
The line started moving and we shuffled, in slow waves, toward the entrance, getting excited.
Let me speak for the crowd. It rocked.
Tickets were $5.

GM dandy

2007-08-22T16:14:00.000-07:00

Every time someone plants a field of Roundup-Ready canola, the possibility it will cross pollinate with a wild, brassica type cousin increases, someday surely resulting in a Round-up resistant offspring. This should reduce the usefulness of Roundup over time which one might applaud if one happen to dislike it.
There is still hope, however, for the garden variety Roundup aficionado, as what may become uneconomical for mass agriculture may remain useful in the backyard.

2007-08-17T22:42:00.000-07:00

From Wikipedia:
The origin of the term "American Dream" appears to be from a history book by James Truslow Adams entitled "The Epic of America" (1931):
"If, as I have said, the things already listed were all we had to contribute, America would have made no distinctive and unique gift to mankind. But there has been also the American dream, that dream of a land in which life should be better and richer and fuller for every man, with opportunity for each according to his ability or achievement." [p. 404;...]

Baloney

2007-08-03T13:39:00.000-07:00

By association, anyway.