Walking Thinking Again

Saturn’s day. Turkey day is over, including its adjunct, day of ebony Freya. Another mild (?) morning, at least temperature high enough to venture into park. Good walk. No great thoughts other than that there is no such ting as pure toleration.

And it also occurred that the thing I am most thankful of is that the holiday is past.

Holidays are stressful and thereby evil. The stress arises from parents and family. We have the solstice season approaching with the whole Santa Claus – Tree – Presents thing and therein lies the root of the stress. The whole nonsense of presents and the pressure and agony of waiting for that. That is the wellspring.

Of course it isn’t helped by family trying to deny the tide of time. More stress. Trying to not be what we are. Putting up with people that we don’t want to be around. Stress. Evil.

Perhaps that is another aspect of civilization? Our denial of its existence.

But holidays are definitely about tolerance. And the wellspring of intolerance.

Thinking about the eminent end of walking is also stressful.

But now I know why turkey is so popular now. The tryptophan. 

Word States

The weather beavers were a bit pessimistic – air temperature this morning on arising was at the bottom limit of my external exercise range and up a bit by the time I had laved and attired my corpus so I was off to park for constitutional.

First of all, I was pleased I didn’t assay yesterday. By the time I finished my rounds of the trail my face was quite uncomfortable. And my efforts to muffle the lower part of my face only resulted in discomfort and eyeglass fogging, which given the sad state of the smoothness of the trail paving, would have sent me to hospital shortly.

But otherwise the experience was most enjoyable. Nature was about. The noisome canine of Friday was absent, or, at least silent, and I had occasion to actually think.

My thoughts were on the matter of entropy in language, Amerikan English in particular. Even that has entropy since most of the humans resident on the American continents speak Spanish, or at least American variants thereof. Also Portugese, Fremch, and Canadian English which seems rather akin to British (?) English to Amerikans but more like Amerikan English to the English. Or so I am assured by both Canadians and English humans.

This musing began as I considered that I had attired myself with cloths. or in an entropic sense, clothed myself. Of course cloth is a noun while clothe is a verb but they seem to have the same root since both are associated with a substance. The Oxford English Dictionary is rather unhelpful on the matter, merely blaming the mess on the Scandinavians. 

Of course, I was concerned that the cloths I clothed myself in be appropriate although in a thermodynamic rather than an appearance sense. Hence more entropy.

Also, I came to reflect on the differences (and entropy) of the words wear and ware. I was wear(ing) clothes and the clothes are wear so the word can be both noun and verb, another entropic form, and is a homonym of ware hence a third entropic form. Ware, of course, is similar, meaning either a metal utensil or a warning of danger. These seem to have a common root since the production of metal objects normally requires a considerable increase of their heat (temperature) even as far as a phase change and hence of considerable potential for damaging humans.

This, of course, brought me to the term “boo-boo”, which is not in my dictionary, but indicates either a minor superficial damage to a human or the deplorable mental state of an adult human miscommunicating with a human infant who has trivially been damaged. I believe it also indicates a form of error which is effectively identical to the latter.

Hence realizing the extent of my facial discomfort, I returned to Castellum SCP to increase my own quantity of heat.

Rain and Cheese

It rained while I slumbered. Did the weather beaver mention that? I don’t recall that he did. They seem to be doing a rather poor job this last week or so. Is this a foretelling of the disaster this winter will be?

But I went to park and executed my constitutional, carefully treading the wet leaves on the wet path and cursing a city government that waste electric potential difference funds on religionist lighting display that do as little to illuminate the walking path as the religionist organizations illuminate the path of life. Yes, we have reached the time of year when the city government is most wasteful and bigoted.

This led me to consider the nature of organized schules. They were terrible in my day and so far as I can discern they have only worsened since. The hypothesis that they are responsible for what is wrong with the young and society is unavoidable. Violence and ignorance ridden, reeking with the cancer of incompetence, how can we stagger on? Clearly in spite of. 

How have organizations become the evil that preys on humanity?

On the positive side, which is depressingly TOO SMALL these days, I note an article [Link] attributing the elucidation of the ideal toasted cheese sandwich to the American Chemical Society. A welcome report even if blatantly untrustworthy. The ACS is a profession society and does not do research on its own except about the profession. Certainly not about junk food.

Yes, sad as it is, the toasted cheese sandwich is junk food and along many azimuths. It is, nonetheless, one of the best of the junk foods in terms of satisfaction, not least of which is that it cannot be successfully prepared by a chain restaurant. The toasted cheese sandwich is best prepared at home although a greasy spoon grill or diner can do a passable job. But not a chain. 

In fact, we may argue that any toasted cheese sandwich is better than almost anything offered by a chain restaurant. 

I personally am most inclined to toasted cheese sandwiches prepared on a clothes iron. That story is elsewhere in these annals.

I should acknowledge the article was called to my attention by my colleague, Magnetic Inductance Force. He tells me his favorite way of preparing toasted cheese sandwich involves a cast iron skillet and a propane torch. But he has a plasma cannon in his attic.

Why Not 1

I don’t have a “Bucket List.”

And NO, it isn’t because I don’t plan to die. Rather, it’s because I don’t find a Bucket List a very attractive idea.

Simply put, as I understand it, a Bucket List is a list of specific activities I want to perform or places I want to visit or other enumerable/elistable(?) things prior to discorporation.

I don’t have one.

First, I see no reason to be bound by what other people do or what they think I should do. Except constabulary and such. So I don’t plagariaze things I want to do. If I can’t think it up by myself it’s derivative and meaningless.

Second, a Bucket List is a admission of incompetence until it is completed.

And third, once you have completed it you are ready to discorporate.

Note that the second and third aspects operate on opposite sides of the list to totally compromise the idea.

My last, and most important reason is that the most important (obviously, to me) things I have done in my life haven’t been planned. They sometimes result from planned things – unanticipated consequences – mostly research projects but many of them are purely accidental and stochastic. It works. For me at least.

So why waste good paper and ink?

And handicap my life?


More Sensation and Measurement

Ice Cream Day. And it feels that way outside. When I left Castellum SCP for the park my thermometer read 41 degF. When I returned it read 39 degF. I am probably not going to tell my cardiologist I violated his guidance. And it wasn’t intentional or overt or even covert. I don’t have control of the temperature. FD SCP does, at least inside Castellum SCP, when the warmerizer is functioning properly, but I am not supposed to touch the thermostat. Or, evidently, since yesterday, watch her touch the thermostat. Evidently some observer effect there?

I was cold in park but thanks to a brisk pace – I think; for me – I was actually warm by the time I finished. Except my face. I think about wearing a face mask but when I do I get the itches. Regardless of material. 

Speaking of temperature, does light have a temperature. I can calculate one easily enough from the wavelength and a couple of fudgy factors aka constants of Nature. But does it actually have a temperature. My conjecture right now is NO, but I haven’t thought that out. Not in fullness, that is. Part of the consideration is whether light is an ensemble unto itself or is it part of a greater ensemble? Clearly I can see stuff so the light is interacting with me, so it has to be part of the ensemble I am in so then I can ask if it is in equilibrium with me?

For that matter, am I in equilibrium? Clearly that seems to be NO. So do I have a temperature? 

It may be time to study stat mech again.

On which azimuth, I ran across an article [Link] that the El Nino (non-equilibrium) will make this winter particularly miserable. There are two aspects to this: First,

and second,

It’s hard to pick out Greater Metropolitan Arab on these maps. The state boundaries are there but pretty much contrasted out of observability. But I think we’re in the >33% band on temperature and on the edge of that band on precipitation. Which means a miserable winter.

Incidentally, cooler and warmer are perfectly good thermodynamic terms since they are comparatives. Cool and warm aren’t since they are sensations. Cool also has other meanings, often associated with leather biker jackets, I believe. Drier and wetter are similar except that we need to qualify that wet refers to amound of dihydrogen oxide and not the phenomenon of wetting. 

Anyway, we can loom forward to low temperatures and lots more snow and ice. And probably electric potential failures and all the pipe problems that entails. May be time to move to Venus?

On the positive side, I see [Link] that the Yankee government justicer system has ruled that Gooey’s copying of books is not a violation of copyright. This makes the book guild rather unhappy although I can’t quite see why. In most cases the book in question isn’t available for purchase so the service is not denying the greedy capitalist book oligarchs any pictures of discorporate euro-american politicians. And it is, much as I hate to say anything nice about Gooey, a public service. In fact, in some instances it improves the oligarch’s cash flow since some people do POD for a material copy of the out-of-print book.

It seems rather strange to live in an information age and have people demanding to control information unto denial of access. Is that the new treason? How should it be handled? How about being locked away in a sensory deprivation chamber until they relent? Or discorporate, whichever comes first.

Not that I can read any of those books when the electric potential difference is zero. But it is nice when society gets to strike back at the forces of evil. 

Importance of Sensation as Opposed to Measurement

FD SCP consented to switching the thermostat from -deltaH to +deltaH! In celebration of the warmth, if not the agony and angst of acknowledged winter, I have a couple of cartoons to mumble:

First, [Link]

I have to admit to identifying with this. My reason is that I used to wear a sport/suit coat every day and carry a briefcase – a real one, not one of those boxes called an attache case – and I got used to having pockets for stuff. Now I don’t but I do wear a vest in the warm period. Haven’t found a cold period vest with enough or large enough pockets. And it does no good to wear a warm period vest underneath a cold period jacket. Can’t get to the pockets. Although that does give a wonderful reason to ignore phone calls/

Second, [Link]

I also have to admit to identifying with this as well. I have never cared much for giving any attention span to horoscopes. I have worked with several who do, mostly engineers who are bog and some clerical, but they had other, redeeming qualities. I did date a woman once who was a serf of horoscope but that interaction was joyously brief and more joyously ended. 

The warmerizer has run sufficiently long now that the aroma of toasted dust is dissipated, hopefully for a year’s duration.