Transcending Logic

I've been working on a new mathematical theory lately, which has kept me away from the olde blog, but I think the time has come to share it with the world. World, I give you the theory of faith based mathematics.

In what follows, if your mind does not grasp every detail, do not be daunted. Like any good belief system, I will tell you what truths to accept without critical thought, in order to spare your mind the oppressing task thinking too much.

The basic principle of my new transcendental logic comes from a simple application of Gödel's more famous incompleteness theorem. If this doesn't ring a bell, let me remind you:

To every ω-consistent recursive class κ of formulae there correspond recursive class signs r, such that neither v Gen r nor Neg(v Gen r) belongs to Flg(κ) (where v is the free variable of r)

In layman's terms, this essentially says that in even the most basic logic systems which we use, including the arithmetic of whole numbers, there are true statements that can never be proven by finite logic.

Well frankly, that's just not good enough for me. Pondering this result for many years, I eventually decided that I will find a way to reach those truths. This led to the creation of my transcendental logic. Of course, I won't give you all the technical details here; as I promised above there will be no need to overburden yourself with too much stressful thinking. You can believe that I have checked it all out very thoroughly and everything works; the chasm has been bridged that we may all pass to the other side.

The upshot of the matter is that when you really, really know something is true, deep down inside, but can't quite find a way to explain it... when you can't quite figure out how to share with others exactly what you are seeing and feeling... transcendental logic makes that last tiny step for you to establish the proof. Transcendental logic transcends the finiteness of our understanding and allows us to reach all truth, not just the tiny part that standard first-order recursive logic would permit us.

A priori it's just a mathematical theory, but the practical implications lay waste to all that human-kind ever previously held as knowledge. It's application to philosophy, religion, politics, economics, and, well... every subject that our minds ever came into contact with... it's application allows for the attainment of total understanding in those fields. This is a new way of understanding being qua being. We have a revaluation of all values, allowing us to see for the first time the clear light of the sun from the abyss of ignorance we drown in. Intiqa, qanman hamushaykiku, yanapawaychis Tayta!

Go now, my readers, into all the world and share the new mathematics. Share with them in all four corners of the earth that they need not live in ignorance, wir haben doch einen Umwerthung aller Werthe gefindet!

Poindexter Smokestack

What is the difference between a computer scientist and a stoner? Okay, obviously the literal answer is that the stoner smokes reefers. But practically, how does one actually tell the difference? Yes, this is another trick question -- I'm not convinced it's possible to tell.

To make my point, consider the following shared attributes of the two breeds:

• has bloodshot eyes
  
• looks generally confused and/or weasel-like
• dressed shabbily
• wants some potato chips or similar snack
• smells funny in a sort of organic way
  
• greets you with: "Sorry if I seem a bit out of it, I'm like, really tired, uh... yeah, didn't get too much sleep last night...."

I recently encountered a young man who exhibited all of these traits, and could not for the life of me figure out whether he was a complete nerd, or totally baked. So anyways I thought I would have more to say about this, but I really don't. Maybe I'll update if I think of something more.

More Death Stars would make the world safer.

No, that's not "just my opinion'' it's a politico-philosophical fact. I got a little carried away having a real life and forgot to post for apparently several weeks now, but I'm back on the wagon with some new insights. This jewel has been floating around inside my brain for a few months and just might bring about world peace.

It's actually fairly simple: the more countries that have Death Stars in orbit around the planet, waiting to wipe us off the face of the solar system, the less likely anyone would be to use one. That's it really, fairly simple. If you are simpleton that needs it spelled out for you, read on.

We (the U.S.) build a Death Star, and everyone starts whining..."oh why must you perpetuate the violence!!!!" "Can't we all just get along together?!?!" Ah, but then, the stroke of genius: we build a Death Star for Iran. Then we build one for North Korea. Hell, throw one in for Sudan at this point, it can't hurt, maybe even let the Australians in on it.

Who will fire first? No one, that's the whole point! If everyone has a Death Star, no one can start a ruckus because they'll have their entire nation blown out from under their feet by the other countries' Death Stars.

Bonus: jobs, jobs, jobs. Death Stars don't run themselves. Nor do they grow on trees, even large robotic trees in outer space. People build them, and when people build stuff that's a job. People run them, and running stuff is a job.

Domino effect: Prosperity ensues in the Death Star owning countries, so much so that they have no idea what to do with their monetary surplus... but I know. Build more Death Stars for the other countries! We're talking about Belize, Guinea Bissau, Armenia, Qatar, then we're going to Tuvalu, Yemen, the Pridnestrovian Moldavian Republic, and Lesotho. After that we'll get one to the Bailiwick of Jersey, Guatemala, and Eritrea, then to... well anyways you get the idea basically every single country should have one.

And each new country that gets their Death Star is basically guaranteed complete safety and prosperity, because no one can ever screw with them again.

Well, mull this one over a bit. Unfortunately, I feel like a man born out of his time. This country just isn't ready for Death Stars, we're too afraid to make that bold step.... but one day they'll listen to me....

Hello Irony

"Now all I need is for ya'll to pronounce my name, it's 'Con-yay', but some of my plaques still say 'Kayne'."

(look at Kanye's listing closely if you haven't done that by now). I took this at Lollapalooza a few weeks ago...if you can't tell, this screen is movie theater size towering over the crowd as we wait for Kanye to come on stage. In his hometown. Yet someone can't double check the spelling of his name after it's become enough of an issue to make it into his lyrics...

Sorry for the blurriness, the exposure is 1/25 @ f5.0 if you care, the shutter speed has to be well slower than refresh rate of the screen and all...

United States Border Patrol: Even Less Funny than their Canadian Counterpart.

Don't assume that everyone has seen Back to the Future -- especially when that fact might determine whether or not you are a considered a risk to national security. My bad luck, coupled with a sense of humor which just wasn't made for these times, recently caused of no small amount of inconvenience while returning to the land of the free and the home of the brave.

If you're not familiar with my experience getting into Canada in the first place, that story will give some context to the current tale and enrich your reading experience. Or you can just read on if you're lazy, as this story is self-contained.

As usual, I pull up to the border crossing station in my car, with my passport ready. I start out making small talk with the Border Patrol officer, and he asks what I'm listening to. I say "Pet Sounds", which leads to a puzzled look on his face, then clarify with "The Beach Boys". This makes him happy; apparently terrorists don't like the Beach Boys.

(As an aside, if you're not familiar with Pet Sounds, stop what you're doing, go get it and listen to it now. And don't start making assumptions because it's the Beach Boys; if you haven't heard it you just don't know.)

So things are going well and I'm actually getting along with this guy, probably due to the fact that I haven't challenged his world-view with my keen intellect, something that tends to happen unintentionally for me. But in a ghostly echo of my first encounter, things awry when he asks me:

"What are you bringing back to the United States with you?"

"Well, my luggage, these empanadas... a ton of duty-free liquor..."

I brought about 6 times the limit of duty-free liquor, which means I owe some taxes. Even with taxes it's way cheaper than the facists in Michigan sell it for, so I should just fill out some paperwork, write a check and move on, no sweat. But being the cheap stingy bargain that I am, I decide that I should "chum up" with the guy, and he'll probably let me go without paying. I decide to accomplish this via a popular movie reference, a standard technique. As he ponders what to do about my liquor, I blurt out:

"...Oh yeah, also an orange vest, a DeLorean transmission, and 22 pounds of plutonium."

I think "plutonium" must have been the word-of-the-day, because its utterance brought on an unpleasant barrage of flashing lights and loud noises.

About two hours later, I'm allowed the privilege of repacking my belongings which are now strewn about the pavement surrounding my car. I've also made many new friends: from supervisors who would much rather be standing in the July sun watching a car be unloaded than surfing the internet in an air conditioned office, to passing motorists who are most grateful to me for shutting down one of the two available lanes back to the U.S.

If you haven't seen Back to the Future, I urge you to go and watch it right now. Knowing a thing or two about 80's pop culture might save a poor mathematician a lot of trouble in the future.

Ice = solid.

Guess what? Ice is a solid-- but don't try to explain this subtle and profound scientific discovery to the Transportation Security Administration. Apparently the recent ban on liquids in air travel extends to some solids also, at the whim of whoever be standing by the door to the airplane of course. This I recently learned while trying to take a simple cup of ice onto an airplane.

"But I am a learned man and will present the argument for them to be persuaded by my transparent reasoning and logic" you may say. Only the more to your trouble you will find.

As I move to board my plane, I am carrying with me a paper cup about half full of ice, with no lid. Allow me to recount the discourse:

"Sorry sir, you are not allowed to carry liquids of any kind onto the aircraft."

"I think you'll find that ice is a solid, actually."

"...Please discard your cup, sir."

"Perhaps we may be having some confusion regarding the three phases of matter. I'm fairly confident that ice is by definition the compound H2O in solid form, solid and liquid being mutually exclusive concepts. Therefore my cup of ice is allowed, unless I'm missing some reason as to why the paper cup itself is considered to be a liquid."

"You will not be allowed to board the aircraft until you dispose of your cup. Period."

"Pardon me for the trouble, I feel that there must be some misunderstanding here. Does the ban implicitly extend to any substance which is a liquid at room temperature, rather than just liquids per se? If so, then this should be stated explicitly in the mandate to avoid such confusions as we are having."

"I will call an officer if you persist in refusing to comply with the security guidelines."

I will not relinquish ice without good cause. However, I now realize that I will not be able to easily carry my ice onto the plane in my paper cup, as any sane person would expect to. The story takes an unfortunate turn here, as I make what in retrospect is known to be a "bad decision".

Stepping out of line, I move out of sight of the boarding gate, pour the cup of ice into my left front pants pocket, and get back in line. Unfortunately, by the time I get to the front of the line, it has become rather apparent that this is precisely what I have done. Not only is ice a liquid at room temperature, but also at body temperature.

Omitting some unpleasant details, I am now in a part of the airport that I never knew existed. I am fairly sure that almost no one knows that it exists, and I have doubts as to whether it falls under the jurisdiction of the United States Constitution. After about half an hour of chemical swabs, and several attempts by me to explain basic principals of seventh grade science (see "phases of matter" above) to federal marshals, I now move on to the pleasant experience of rebooking my flight.

Thank you for protecting me from the Evil Terrorists That Come from Across the Great Sea, America.

Superwho? Superwhat?

Okay here's the official word: Superman is the one who can only be killed by kryptonite, Jesus is the one that can only be killed by crucifixion. It's confusing, but if you can keep those two straight, you're on your way to having a pretty good understanding of how to tell them apart.

Let's refresh ourselves first on some of the similarities. By laying our confusions bare we may better overcome them.

• Their fathers live in outer space, and sent them to earth as children. Something about a star or planet was especially important.
• Both have an array of magical superpowers at their disposal, including flying, walking on water, laser eyes, and raising the dead. I can't remember who has what exactly.
  
• Children love them both. Given the scary powers in the line above, that's a pretty impressive charm.
• Both have bald archenemies (Lex Luther and Vladmir Lenin, of course).
• Both work for free, only to make the world a better place; however some mooch always comes in to make a secondary profit (The Daily Planet from Superman stories; the Vatican and tele-evangelists from Jesus stories.)
• Both spent a large amount of time in Metropolis (there is actually disagreement among Jesus experts on this-- see The Book of Mormon for one account).
  

Of course, there are some huge differences, besides the kryptonite/crucifixion thing. Only one has an alter ego as a big dork. Jesus had no alter ego, but he did "go dark" for like 20 years when there is no record of what he was up to. Both weird in their own way. One is a hippie that wears loose rags and doesn't shave; the other is Mr. GQ. with a skintight custom made suit. Superman was never seen eating or drinking, while Jesus always ate on the job (and was very generous about sharing). Oh yeah and of course Superman never got married.

Not so simple, huh? If these weren't both documented historical people, I might be throwing the word "plagiarism" around.