Friday in Hillsdale

I got to hang out with Bradford again yesterday, and return the L. Gordon Plummer book mentioned in the above video, to the Theosophical Society Library. I made sure they knew about this video, as they're included therein, as is Bradford.

Bradford gave me more of a picture of his network. Given we've both been receptive to the Bucky stuff (many if not most are not) we unsurprisingly know or knew many of the same people. 

I told him about the one time I met Bob Gray in person, in Washington DC, at the founding of SNEC (later renamed to Synergetics Collaborative). Yes, Bradford knew who CJ Fearnley was (another friend of Bob's, and mine). Applewhite was there at the SNEC summit, as was Yasushi Kajikawa of Scientific American fame (Japan edition).

Given the pre-emptive attack by President Rubio, of the District, against the Middle East, I was naturally effusive in my distrust and dislike for the Beltway Mafia, entangled with the Las Vegas Mafia historically and contemporaneously. 

DC and LV have a lot of shared personnel and similar mindsets. I understand why Canadians are leery of both (tourism is way down). DC has a bright future as a tourist town, even if we no longer take it seriously as a seat of government, outside being an important part of the Northeast Corridor (Cosmopolis or Gotham). The DC-NYC line, with Princeton in the middle, has long been a part of my consciousness. 

I'd visit CJ in Philly, by train when I lived on the east coast, but also by plane, when NPYM (a west coast Yearly Meeting, RSF) was paying my way to AFSC corporation meetings.

Fortunately for our collective sanity, PDX in Cascadia is not a co-belligerent with the District (or LV) and has its own way of coping with the post-USA neoRoman fascists trying to dominate the world these days i.e. we have the Portland Frogs etcetera (meaning we use a lot of satire and ridicule, other forms of propaganda).

As a veteran of Portland Occupy and Food Not Bombs, I've never been an allie of the neoRomans and their rackets (as Smedley Butler called 'em). I think both Dulles brothers were imperialist fools, as was General MacArthur. These men are not heroes in my version of history.

The Scarlett Pimpernel (movie review)

This was the 1982 version; I hear there’s another one. I’d have to say it’s an early spy story, set after the American Revolution set off the one in France (per some tellings), and wherein the “Bond” character is quite effete, a dancer-prancer type, a flaneur, a fop. But it’s all an affectation (a disguise) as in reality he’s fighting bravely for the crown, against depraved terrorists.

The terrorists in this case are the scary hoi polloi, a Pol Pot style mob some might say, chopping the heads off anyone with eyeglasses or who otherwise looks like they can read or, worse (code): dance the minuet and other courtly numbers. People of culture in other words, not riffraff.

“Chop chop” goes the guillotine, and the crowd roars its approval, “Off with their heads!”.

Our movie audience (the spectators, those for whom this spectacle was made) should be feeling revulsion and disgust by now, mixed with righteous outrage. How is this “Enlightenment” in any meaningful sense? It all seems so cheap and tawdry.

Countering all this madness is the Scarlett Pimpernel, who / which understands the necessity of a strong monarchy to prevent just these kinds of mental illness from spreading virally. 

The SP is somewhat a Society, a peer group (think Three Musketeers) but also is lead by our hero, the faux dandy, so “fake n gay” to sound like Candace.

It’s obviously a spy movie because it’s all about betrayal, defections, switching sides, or at least appearing to, or… unless you’re quite dedicated to puzzling it all out (cut to snoring on the couch) there’s no way to be much besides confused. 

And the disguises, let’s not forget the disguises.

We’re always wondering if SP is sincere in his love for his lady love, as in the first chapter of their relationship he uses their romantic picnic together as another occasion to smuggle another aristocrat out of the looney bin (where the patients now run the show). So he’s using her as a human shield of some kind?

No, he sees her as fighting the same oppressor. At first that is. Then he has reason to doubt. Then he has reason to have faith again. See what I mean? He has his ups and downs. She, meanwhile, is trying to fathom his calculus and is likewise doubtful of his integrity.

Anyway, there’s a superhero superpower coloring to the whole thing, which is of course intentional as that’s what fiction is all about doing, usually:  creating larger-than-life characters who swashbuckle their way through all kinds of obstacle courses in unlikely, sometimes oddball, ways.

Spring Term

I started pitching my Spring Term, given it's March 1 already, the Equinox coming on the 20th.

For those new here, we're talking School of Tomorrow, an umbrella term for a buncha sigs (special interest groups; like edu-sig), study groups, asynchronous threads, Github pages and so on. They criss-cross every which way ala that "Spherical Pinball Machine" I like to go on about.

The right margin here has a lotta links to related social media, where I commit some of my writings. I was always cut out for hypertext, which is why I'm not as popular among print only bookstore types, although you'll find me in acknowledgments (a Historical Dictionary of Wittgenstein's Philosophy by Duncan Richter; Bucky Works by J. Baldwin, which front matter typically nobody reads).

Monster U Strikes Out

We woke up to the dreaded news of Monster U outta control again. 

I’m seeing Biden and Trump were human shields, too senile to really take the heat for the dummy beginner mistakes made by presidents Blinken and Rubio respectively. I’ll do more satire some other time.  

Grok completely rewrote my prompt.

What Grok wrote (based on my initial input):

A cinematic movie theater screen displaying the iconic final scene from Thelma & Louise: a 1991 Ford Thunderbird convertible driven by Benjamin Netanyahu as Thelma and Marco Rubio as Louise, both in character as the heroic women, plunging off the edge of the Grand Canyon cliff into the abyss in a dramatic leap of defiance, dust and sunlight streaming dramatically, wide shot of the car mid-air against the vast canyon, the scene framed as a large movie screen in a dark theater with faint audience silhouettes, humorous and satirical political comedy style

Try it yourself?  I’m outta tokens.  Not everyone uses Grok, I realize, but at free tier I’ve found it generous with how many freebies it lets me choose from.

From my outbox:

From my angle both Biden and Trump were way too burned out to be key decision makers.  They're just human shields, these senile presidents.

What I see is Secretary Blinken, and now Secretary Rubio (doubling as NSC chief) arrogating "superpowers" (extraordinary authority, as in extra judicial) in the background, aggressing against Russia and Iran respectively, and losing big time because neither is the brainiac each supposes.  

Damn, vanity sure is rampant among the so-called "leadership" (snicker).

Printing Polys

See: Printing Polys (Jupyter Notebook)

Faculty Lounge Chatter

Where it looks to me Fuller was headed was towards a “geared trig” based on what he called Scheherazade numbers. With gear teeth that fine, would we ever need something finer for physics engines (models)? Instead of trailing off indefinitely, we could stay with definite terminating numbers — as we must anyway in the real world.

When it comes to visualizations on a computer screen, the threshold is pretty low i.e. there’s no way to register a difference of higher frequency than the resolution of the monitor. Under the hood though, we can carry the overhead needed to go higher precision if we need to, which is where computer algebra systems come into play.

In the world of frequencies (energy world), we come down to measurement. Even though physics formulae are redolent with pi (π), we learn in high school that the uncertainty in measurement trumps theoretical “infinite precision” i.e. no one in physics needs pi to a thousand places (unless working on a pi algorithm for some reason — I like Ramanujan’s). “Nature is not using π” is akin to saying: in a discrete quantized universe, “infinite precision” is a mirage.

When I introduce Synergetics to people, one of my first moves is to talk about “namespaces”, a concept with concrete literal meaning in the Python language, but also kind of a shorthand for “subculture” (Wittgenstein: way of life). We can identify three namespaces that use the meme “4D” as in “four dimensional”.

(1) n-D, n-dimensional linear algebra, home of E8, Leech Lattices, Machine Learning and all the rest of it, very established and highly productive.

(2) 4D as 3D + Time, owing to Einstein / Minkowski. Donald Coxeter (to whom Synergetics is dedicated) is at pains, in Regular Polytopes, to distinguish Einstein’s 4D from his own n-D 4D, the 4D of extended Euclideanism (i.e. the 4D in (1)).

(3) 4D as referring to the the four directions of the tetrahedron, the most primitive polyhedron, the “ab initio” beginning for conceptuality in prefrequency (Platonic) space (Fuller’s shoptalk).

There’s a tendency to confuse (sometimes deliberately) all these different meanings of 4D, on the assumption that math is some “universal language” whereas in reality it’s an amalgam of partially overlapping namespaces, or “language games” as Wittgenstein calls ‘em.

Assuming an IVM ball of radius R, diameter D, I think what Synergetics does that’s both easy to understand and revolutionary is we trade in the R-edged cube of unit volume (XYZ, unit cube) in favor of a D face-diagonalized cube of volume 3. The inscribed tets have volume 1. 

The payoff is the octa (same D edges) is now volume 4, and the rhombic dodeca (D long face diagonals) is volume 6. 

We get more whole numbers if we let the old R-edged cube be the “odd man out” with volume 1.06066… √(9/8). 

That’s heresy, meaning to fight against it is to merely uphold an established dogma, not to mount a rational thought-out defense (which the orthodoxy is not prepared to do). Fuller’s system has merit, there’s no way around that fact. Even if XYZ still works, as it does. 

The epithet Fuller applied to XYZ “Qyoobism” (I’m making it sound like a cult) is not “it’s wrong” but “it’s awkward” (relatively).

Blake Meets Bucky

More context

A Thirster in Cuba

slide show: hover mouse

Thirsters host Dr. Art Kohn, peppered his presentation with modest caveats, reminding us he was learning more than teaching about his topic. However, with memories of his visit to Havana still vivid, he was up for giving us his eye-witness account. The interest level was high with many attending, including Jonathan Potkin.

Cuba was in crisis around now because the District of Columbia had imprisoned the president and first lady of Venezuela, whom we don't hear about daily as one might expect, and Marco Rubio (the District president) is making sure VZ is no longer in control of where its oil goes. That oil now belongs to the District as far as the Beltway Mafia is concerned, and Cuba has long been on its enemies list.

However, US citizens are still permitted tourist visas and short hop airlines that don't need to refuel in Havana still serve its airport. 

Art is a big fan of AI and used it to help with the slideshow, which took us through a lot of history, albeit briefly as this was but a two-hour long meetup at best. 

I'd arrived with two guests, Don and Susan, having enjoyed their company, and Terri's, at their home base first. I was their driver / chauffeur for the evening. Don enjoyed the freeway twists and dips, which we took much faster coming home, in light traffic.

After the formal presentation, Thirsters (a pun on Thursday beer drinking, recalling our pub meetup years) asked questions and shared views.

Art's mental model is that a public-ownership-based framework equates to a top-heavy bureaucracy and a kind of egalitarianism that keeps the gap in living standards, between the best-off and worst-off, relatively narrow, but also keeps that living standard relatively low for everyone, on average. 

Private ownership, on the other hand, which encourages competition, and a leaner government, opens the door to a higher top level standard, thanks to greater efficiency, but at the cost of a wider disparity in living standards. One might picture the two bell curves.

I shared one of my Cuba stories, the one about my friend who organized trips to Cuba for retired Pentagon brass, for fun in the sun and meetups with Castro. I thought about getting into the whole Ben and Jerry's ice cream factory scenario, but decided that was too complicated a kind of science fiction to pass off as a quick anecdote.

In the car driving home I shared my view that the District is at the hub of a military-socialist empire, centered around the Pentagon as a central planner. Between corporate hierarchies, flock-n-shepherd temples, and military service, US citizens have little opportunity to practice boots-on-the-ground democracy except vs-a-vs the District melodrama, which turns "democracy" into a kind of reality TV show.

Note that USers are by now used to having the Secretary of State be president, as this was true under President Blinken as well.

Marking Time

I might write a movie review for The Apostle, a Robert Duvall film. Rosalie mentioned liking it. I grabbed a copy from Movie Madness around the time news of Duvall’s death was percolating through social media. He plays a preacher really not well suited for anything else, except fixing cars.

There’s a pall across the land, a sense of deadness, as people come to grips with (a) having no leadership and (b) the prospect of an all-out brawl in the Middle East for no coherent reason other than tempers are running high. No cold calculations suggest spazzing out would be productive, but who coldly calculates anymore?

I woke up feeling a bit on the woozy side, and I’m not blaming Duvall. Even this many hours later, I don’t think I’m at 100%. Something I ate maybe; either the oyster stew or the juicer carrots.

Is this just a boring journal, like a diary, where I write about diet and flatulence (thinking of Darwin, sorry)? I’d say it’s not just that, but I do want to keep it quirkily individual, clearly written by a human and not some bot. It’s getting hard to tell anymore.

My line on AI is that “artificial intelligence” has always been with us. You’ll get that from other thinkers besides me. Improved intelligence is a direction, and means a lot of things, where “artificial” or “phony” is the other direction, pretending we have just the two (an oversimplification in other words).

More sense vs less sense: as much as some are concentrating and curating sense, so are others maybe squandering it, and maybe that’s fine. 

Housecleaning matters. Old, obsolete belief systems needn’t be kept “alive” on life support. There comes a point where suspending disbelief becomes impossible. Beliefs can’t be forced, which is why we have the words “persuaded” and “convinced”. Sure, one might feign beliefs, to get ahead in the party, but if they feel forced upon one, or from one, then they’re experienced as inauthentic, insincere, and therefore prone to crumble, dust to dust.

The veggie heads (those with no brains left, heads stuffed with straw, alas) tend to stumble towards war in hopes of that making more sense somehow. They’re drawn to the flames by their sense of what’s needed: more intel. 

The zombie trope is likewise nothing new. In a way, we’re all on the same page.

Acting Locally

This journal entry will focus on mundane matters of immediate circumstance, such as the loud noises from the construction site, which set Ruby aquiver, and an ask to be held in her guardian’s arms, Mazur, visiting from out-of-state (more northward in Cascadia). 

Speaking of Cascadia, we’re proud of our football-oriented subculture obviously, for winning that trophy. Meanwhile, the Winter Olympics in Italy has some friends fully engaged. I’m more asynchronous around sporting events these days, although I was watching NFL Seahawks vs Patriots in real time, with Mazur, Ruby and friends. Some friends were betting money, but not through any app.

Ruby is a cha-weenie if I remember correctly, a chihauhua-dachshund. I grew up around dachshunds, then later switched to chocolate lab (Sydney) and lab-adjacent (yellowish Sarah Angel).

The construction site in question already has an open food cart, more at the ready, while they finish the grange (I’ll call it) where you might bring your food to an indoor table. Restrooms. A beverage bar. 

This has proved a winning formula around Portland. The food truck pod is an institution, prototypical of traveling circus havens in other forms, ala the Earthala Project (ongoing terraforming). The trucks typically intend to stay awhile, but they’re also free to come and go. The pod provides a hookup, including to a metered gas line in some cases.

The food pod in question is at the corner of SE 38th and Division, adjacent to Tom’s on Chavez. We were on our way to Tropical Hut, past Village Merchant and Skavones. This was a mouse Monday for Barry (the ball python in my Photostream, inherited from my then off-to-college daughter (Barry may outlive me; snakes have a long lifespan)).

Earlier, before the mouse trip (about a mile total?), before Dave came over (he hadn’t watched the Super Bowl at all the day before), the fuel truck had arrived as expected. The operator and I stood around yakking while the truck pumped an already set number of gallons, cheque written already. 

I’d let the tank run out, whereas I thought I was on top of it, having measured the fuel level recently enough, I thought. Since Friday the house had been hovering at an ambient temperature more reflective of outside weather conditions, whereas I usually keep the thermostat at 60F, and the basement furnace complies, but only because there’s still fuel in the pipeline. 

The operator relayed what he considered a consensus view of the truck diver community: they appreciate Cascadia (Pacific Northwest) as an agreeable part of the country. Truckers enjoy driving through here more than average. However settling here, making it a base, has become more difficult, as a lot of people have that same idea, bidding up the cost of property (stuff).

Our neighborhood housing market seems robust, even when they tell us downtown office building occupancy is relatively low. They’ve also decided there’s no way to rescue the Lloyd Center as is, a signature shopping mall in the minds of long term residents. I learned of that decision through a KOIN posting on Facebook. 

I do receive broadcast television through an antenna, and of course I get TV through my internet hookup (optical fiber). 

I don’t get any cable TV outside of what I get through my internet subscription.

Coming back from the mouse store, we came upon one of those bird-house on a pole looking free libraries. Take a book, donate a book… I took out a thick one on F. Scott Fitzgerald’s life. I hope to be visiting his grandson later this week. 

Later when back at the house, I passed on to Mazur my hardcover David Bowie book (purchased from the local Powell’s) as I’ve always associated her with David Bowie, of whom she’s been a fan.