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2006-10-03T21:28:00.000-04:00

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!

2006-09-24T20:01:00.000-04:00

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.

2006-09-20T21:47:00.000-04:00

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....

2006-08-30T11:03:00.000-04:00

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...

2006-08-27T13:17:00.000-04:00

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.

2006-08-14T00:17:00.000-04:00

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.

2006-07-29T20:38:00.000-04:00

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.

2006-07-18T09:58:00.000-04:00

Canadian Border Patrol: The World's Least Funny Job

I had the pleasure of visiting Toronto last week; it's quite a cool place. What's not so cool is dealing with Border Patrol agents, especially when you have a really unique, cutting-edge sense of humor like me. They don't really appreciate that. I'll just run through my experience:

I pull up to the border patrol station in my car, with a short line to wait in. Since I am an upstanding, law abiding citizen, I have my passport ready at hand as I pull up to the booth.

Oh yeah, I also have a mouth full of Cheez-its, but that's not really too important.
---------------------
BP: "Citizenship?"

(Me hands him my passport)

BP: "COUNTRY OF CITIZENSHIP?!?"

Me: "Er, oh, US, sorry, I thought you were asking for the document."

He ignores me, takes the passport and looks through it. I had gotten back from Mexico less than a week prior, so I guess this catches his eye.

BP: "What are you doing in Canada?"

Me: "I'm attending a math conference."

Anyways, skip a bunch of him giving me a generally hard time about the crossing. Onto the customs stuff. Since we've established that I belong in Canada this week, I feel the need to lighten then mood with my previously mentioned wicked humor.

BP: "Are you bringing anything into Canada that will be staying in Canada?"

Me: "Well, cash, and this box of Cheez-its in one form or another." (oh yeah the cheez-its weren't totally unimportant)
He's not laughing, apparently I better lay it on a little thicker.
"And my dignity... what happens in Canada stays in Canada, eh?"

BP: (stares. not gazes, or some other pleasant synonym. a cold, hard, stare.)

Me: Hmmm... he's either never seen commercials for Las Vegas, or lives in a part of Canada that they don't say 'eh?'. Either of those should have broken the ice... I better be a more overt with this guy, a little humor ought to dig myself out of this hole...

"Of course, on the way back I'll have a few of Fidel's Finest Commie Smokes, and a couple O's of BC greenery." I lean forward and whisper this part: "Don't let grouchy old Uncle Sam hear, though." (now I'm gesturing backwards over my shoulder with my thumb.)
That should be a gut buster. Canadians love weed and poking fun at America.

Just kidding, they don't. I thought they did though. Ooops.

BP: "Put your vehicle in park."
-------------
Well nothing really ended up happening, except me wasting a bunch of time. I tried to brighten this guy's day, spice things up a bit, and he was totally unappreciative. Luckily I have the way back to compensate. Americans are much funnier and take border crossing much more lightly.

Once again I am not always correct about things that aren't math. Post preview: "Canadian Border Patrol: the World's Second Least Funny Job. Behind American Border Patrol."

2006-06-28T20:08:00.000-04:00

Even an idiot gets a beach.

I got married and went to Mexico last week. This might inspire a string of posts when I get a break from traveling. It was beautiful (above). But some people there are very stupid (below). Some of the stupidest things I heard in Mexico:

8. "Really, you just can't get a decent martini around here."
--What? Did you try the Olive Garden? Or maybe a nice place uptown? Oh wait, you're in Mexico dumbass, drink tequila; make it a margarita if you don't have any huevos.

7. "Wow, those beans were great. What was in them?"
--Do you want to sleep tonight? When you're eating in an unfamiliar place, either ask first, or not at all. Lard, tongue, and intestines if you're lucky; enterohemorrhagic e. coli if you're not.

6. "My horse is out of control, it won't stop eating the grass!"
--Did you try asking it not to? You did? Then that's exactly why. It doesn't speak English, and it likes eating grass you moron. And no, that's not a candy necklace in its mouth, that's actually the horse's equivalent of a steering wheel. Learn to use it and quit complaining gringo.

5. "My shower water tastes like the ocean when it gets into my mouth!"
--Oh, pardon us, the hose from the Aquafina reservoir must have come loose. We'll get right on... you're at the ocean jackass. Do you really think they desalinate your shower water?

4. "The man carrying around my bags all day didn't stop mentioning how little he gets paid... we all work, I don't want to hear about it on my vacation."
--Yeah we all work. Your biggest worry is that the intern might forget to make yours half-caf; while this guy spends 75 hours a week in 100 degree weather, envying an Afghani field tilling ox. We all work.
Here's an suggestion: go get a Spanish-English dictionary and look up the word "propina". When that doesn't help, get the Oxford English Dictionary and look up the word "tip". If you still don't get it, your butler can probably explain it to you.

3. A short conversation actually. Let me set it up: I'm in a typical tourist trap shop on a horse ranch. They sell disposable cameras, hats, and stereotypical Mexican vacation t-shirts. They accept US dollars, and the vendor speaks fluent English. A guy walks in an picks up a very cheap, crappy straw hat.
American: "How much is this hat?" (He already has his wallet out)
Vendor: (Looking the American up and down very quickly) "Uh... 37 dollars.."
American: (Takes out two $20's and pays, looking pissed)
--Hmm... there's something to be said for souvenirs, but that hat is worth about $10 if you find a 5 dollar bill inside. This is Mexico, they want to haggle with you, it's cultural. Or maybe they don't if you're ready to just shovel money at them without thought. Don't just burn your money when you're going to complain about being taken advantage of later...Have some dignity, learn a thing or two.

2. "Man, this place is beautiful, but I'd kill for a Bud Light."
--Guess what? Bud Light sucks. Everything you like to drink probably sucks, redneck. Wanna get rich? Well here's how to save $20 a day = $140 / week = $7300 every year: Buy a bottle of Everclear grain alcohol (don't worry, it will last about 2 months). Whenever you feel the call of nature throughout the day, piss in an empty milk carton. When you get home at night, add about a tablespoon of that Everclear, and shake it up. Eureka! Homemade Bud Light, for pennies, and you won't be able to tell the difference.

1. "Wow, Mexicans really love Jimmy Buffett."
--Correction: Mexican resort owners think Americans love Jimmy Buffett. For some unknown reason. I did not meet a single person that liked the song "Margaritaville"; in fact, I met a number of people that were ready to throw the bar CD players into the ocean. There was a strict rule that the bartenders could only play 3 CDs, aptly named "Corporate 1", "Corporate 2", and "Corporate 3". These guys had treasure chests of fantastic music that I could never discover otherwise, yet could not share it with me because of the corporate standard of "what Americans like". Well I discovered some things anyways, but come on...

2006-06-12T21:38:00.000-04:00

MOON LAND - Get it while it's cheap.

Did I fall asleep for 35 years or something? Last -I- heard, the moon was just sitting out there doing jack crap, with it's proverbial thumb ... well anyways basically being more useless than a condom in the Vatican. Since when did moon land get so damn hot? That's right, judging from the tone of these websites, I am the last idiot on earth not to know that buying up as many acres on the moon as I can afford is the most solid investment I can make with my money.

http://www.lunarlandowner.com/

No, this isn't only a novelty item, sold as "an excellent gift" or "an interesting and great conversation piece", as my first rational impulses told me. It is a "potential prudent investment" apparently. An this isn't just a website making some quick bucks off of impulse novelty sales, they are "An Authorized Reseller for the Lunar Embassy". You might not know this, but the Lunar Embassy actually was recently recognized by the US Congress (source: www.lunarlandowner.com).

Well, anyways, you can see where I'm going with this--Yeah, Get all the moon land you can, while it's still there. This is a freaking breakthrough in affordable real estate for Americans. Hell, it's recoginized by Congress and protected by the Outer Space Treaty of 1967 and protected by the Moon Treaty of 1984. How many treaties protected your last real estate endeavor?

For me that answer is zero, unfortunately...but that's for a future post I guess, ("10 Reasons Not To Buy Land from the Prince of Monaco via E-mail.") You live and you learn: buy land protected by treaties, e.g. moon land-- that's what I've learned. And here I pass this knowledge onto you, wawaykuna.

2006-06-11T22:20:00.000-04:00

Allillanchu, wawaykuna. Imaynaya kashankichis? I'll be traversing the heavens for a week or so, so I thought I'd post some "bonus material" to keep you entertained while I'm gone. Make it last, don't go reading it all in one day.

These are from my old (=a few weeks ago) myspace blog

Border Patrol - with really sharp teeth.
Current mood: aggravated

Let's do a little math review: 1 plus 1 = 2. It's fairly straightforward, yet again and again our public leaders fail to apply this principle. Allow me to elaborate:

1: Immigration policy and enforcement is a disgrace, no matter which way a person looks at it. A complete hodgepodge of ad hoc methods and mandates meant to appease interest groups and abate alarmists. Recently it was announced that some thousands more troops along the border, specifically NOT enforcing border policy, is somehow a good idea.
Go Home Immigrants

1: Florida has an excess alligator problem. They don't know what to do with them, so killing them is the default response.
Go Home Gators (link broke but you heard about it, right?)

Okay, now using the above principle, we get...

2: Deploy the National Guard to Florida instead. They trap the gators. Thousands, maybe millions of gators. Build a moat along the entire border, and fill it with the Florida alligators.

No gators in Florida, no illegal border crossings. 1 plus 1 = 2. Two rights make a right.

What would you be more scared of: some kid volunteering 2 weeks a year so that he can afford college, or a moat full of vicious alligators?

Sure, this would be a little slow to start with. We still have to deploy the National Guard, and trap the alligators, which could take weeks or months. But we have to look at the long term. Alligators work for free. They also make more alligators-- for free. A self-sustainable system, like hippies and scientists are always talking about.

I implore you to write your Congressperson regarding this issue. We can't leave it up to them to figure out, not something as complicated as 1 plus 1=2.

(But seriously, 6000 troops to the border? That's a really effective, well thought out plan. I feel safer already. You're an idiot.)

2006-06-11T02:00:00.000-04:00

You can take my numerals, but you'll never take my freedom!

This morning I was going through minutes of the United States Senate, as I always do, and I discovered that a certain hard-line senator slipped in a doozy of an amendment to the recent immigration bill. In order to "protect our national numerical identity" the amendment will

"phase out the use of Arabic numerals by 2008, in favor of a more family oriented numeral system."

If you need some clarification, that means the symbols: 0,1,2,3,4,5,6,7,8, and 9. Gone. What does that leave us with? Well we have some options:

a) Roman numerals: Your tall mocha java latte will cost IV.LXXVI dollars American- imagine that popping up on the cash register.
b) Chinese numerals: Imagine looking down at your watch and seeing 七：五十四. "Damn, I'm supposed to meet Ricky in 六 minutes!" Well it's a slight improvement, but not exactly convenient.
c) Babylonian numerals: These don't even exist on computers. Consult the Wikipedia article if you're curious. Definitely not going to work.

Anyways, a quick run down of the other options (which I can't even display here) verifies that they are all crap. I don't know how this got slipped in, unnoticed. Probably everyone saw "family oriented" and assumed it was okay... well I can only speculate.

Sadly enough though, this isn't too surprising. During the Desert Storm, seven states actually passed laws to rename "falafel" as "victory fluff". Yeah no kidding. And that's just something I experienced firsthand (I almost got a 2x4 to the head in Oklahoma for using the anti-American name...that's for another post I guess), who knows how much of this crazy stuff has gone by unnoticed.

Anyways, being the politics buff that I am, I will keep following this issue and try to keep you huddled masses informed. Oh yeah, feel free to write your Senator or make some other token gesture...

Nothing New

2006-05-20T08:46:00.000-04:00

Nothing new.

That's not a report, it's a motto. Firmly founded in traditional values with a splash of 151 proof laziness, I generally avoid new things of any kind. Not today though.

Yes, I -have- in fact moved my blog. Although I first wondered how this would affect my readership, I consulted both of them and we agreed it was for the best. So here I am. My future topics shall include:

As you may have guessed from the name, I might try to post something about Runasimi (aka the Quechua language).

Occasional mathematics. I'll keep this vague and ________ enough to be interesting to normal people. In fact, although unbeknownst to you as of yet, by reading my posts you will come to a harmonious understanding of the deep and profound mysteries of the universe.

Scathing yet humorous political satire. In terms of originality, I'm shooting for about 3 in content, but 10 in angle.