Thursday, February 26, 2009

orion nebula.

It is difficult for my humble imagination to even believe this exists. This is the Orion Nebula – or M42 – one of the most dramatic, studied and photographed objects in the night sky. It can be seen with the naked eye as the star in the middle of Orion's sword (the three stars located below Orion's belt). With a decent pair of binoculars or a telescope, the nebula can more clearly be seen (as opposed to being just a fuzzy dot to the unaided eye).

This image is a composite of fifteen images taken by the Hubble Space Telescope in 1995, and is one of the most detailed astronomical images ever captured. At one point I felt my insignificance climbing mountains. This is on an entirely different, much larger and difficult to comprehend scale of which I am still and will always be processing.

darwin.

Prompted by a simple quote flashed up on a slide at an REI meeting, I quickly Googled 'Darwin quotes' and came up with a list of quote after quote that struck me as quite profound and must now begin reading his work once I finish the Sagan book I am working on at the moment. The quote that was brought up turned out to be the first on that list ~
"It is not the strongest of the species that survives, nor the most intelligent that survives. It is the one that is the most adaptable to change."
This has so many varied applications it is astounding. I see similarities with him and Sagan already, and my interest in Darwin's theories and ideas is now piqued.

Another one that seemed Sagan-esque was this ~
"The mystery of the beginning of all things is insoluble by us; and I for one must be content to remain an agnostic."
Religious viewpoint aside, the idea of mystery – something we cannot explain (at least not yet) fascinates me. And then, fitting at this point in time ~
"How paramount the future is to the present when one is surrounded by children."
Lobbyists are already apparently lining up to get ready to do battle with Obama's ideas for reinventing our failed and embarrassing environmental and healthcare policies for fear of change or adaptation. That last quote, uttered sometime in the nineteenth century, is just all the more relevant today and circles around right back to the first quote.

Wednesday, February 18, 2009

ansel adams.

His birthday is today, and I came across this wonderful, abbreviated biography.

Though I got slightly annoyed at being compared to him on Flickr from a photographic standpoint (which was a major factor I feel in my somewhat sudden loss of interest with black and white photography a couple of years ago – not the comparisons made on Flickr – but rather my own self-perception that I was indeed a complete hack of a photographer and so the comparisons were thus in effect true).

But anywhoo ... regardless of that rather inconsequential stuff, I have always been and will always remain indebted to him for spurring in me the initial zealousness for photography as well as his own contributions – though perhaps now considered cliché (and just to clarify I do not share that opinion) – were ground-breaking and inspiring at the time of their conception and still remain wholly valid on their own today. He was without a doubt a master, and his technical mastery and leadership of the early conservation movement are a legacy separate from his photographs which is quite enough. Through any number of ways, he has inspired generations of photographers and his legacy will live on (almost literally) forever (his photograph of the Tetons and Snake River is included on the Golden Records that are attached to Voyagers I and II as an example to potential intelligent life elsewhere in the Universe the beauty that the Earth holds and that at least some of humanity ultimately respects).

Tuesday, February 17, 2009

obliquity of the ecliptic.






















The axial tilt may equivalently be expressed in terms of the planet's orbital plane and a plane perpendicular to its axis. In our solar system, the Earth's orbital plane is known as the ecliptic, thus the Earth's axial tilt is officially called the obliquity of the ecliptic. The ecliptic is not a fixed quantity but changing over time in a cycle with a period of a hundred million years. It is a very slow effect known as nutation, but even at the level of accuracy at which astronomers work needs to be taken into account in daily calculations. The obliquity and the precession of the equinoxes are calculated from the same theory and are thus related to each other. Without one there would not be the other.



and as I stand here fixed in time
I spin around to mesmerize and hold my Fate
to stem the tide I choose to wait
a fixed point in space I have held and now release
towards the distant pale point of light I gravitate
as time stands still but all the while I cannot find
the orbit is lost and so anew I must create



There is of course an enormous piano the chords huge. It starts out with a full-blown orchestration the piano accompanying and the lyrics above (only partially scrawled out at the moment but close to the idea). The tempo is slow in common time each syllable held out nearly until the lyrics are over and then the tempo doubles and the piano begins furious arpeggiated triplets up and down the registers as the orchestra matches the tempo and then after several repetitions of the arpeggiated chord progression, the lyrics come back to reiterate the last point as the song crescendos beyond belief cymbals crashing the piano enormous and unbearable before ending in a furious wash of sound and samples. What is quite fun in Logic is to actually go into the sample editor and manipulate each individual note to tweak the overall performance as I will have to do on most of the bars I have recorded as they are somewhat sloppy but captured the idea for now. And yes I love the word 'furious' as it relates to music.





















Wednesday, February 11, 2009

the one that got away.

And to think I was just about to head off to bed when this song came to me and so I rebooted my Mac and fired up Logic to figure out the chord progression and it is quite awesome in B♭minor and I quick scrawled down some lyrics that maybe I have used part of before I am not sure right now but I will look into it typing furiously after recording a few bits my playing horribly sloppy but just so it hasn't escaped me when I wake up tomorrow something like
I silently staggered under the stars
among the covers I tried to hide
until one day I woke up to find
you were the one that got away
and it starts out I think just an acoustic guitar strumming away somewhat furiously the time signature is 3/4 and the tempo is something like 140 bpm which is quite fast and I am becoming more used to the entirely different sensation of listening to my own playing while not playing so I can concentrate more on what was played but anyways that is at least how I have recorded it for now which I can change later if needed but it just builds and builds for most of the song these huge chords until the end when those lyrics come in and then overdriven far beyond clipping two guitars furious arpeggios on one the other furious chords the acoustic still strumming away a low bass line arpeggiated drums furious too cymbal crashes on the downbeat of every other bar (not sure about an enormous piano line yet but probably if anything sitting off in the mix arpeggios up high in the treble) until it just ends and the overdriven guitars are left to pan back and forth out of sync with each other until they are cut off by a mute to the master fader and that is that.

Tuesday, February 10, 2009

billions and billions.

Everything morally right derives from one of four sources: it concerns either full perception or intelligent development of what is true; or the preservation of organized society, where every man is rendered his due and all obligations are faithfully discharged; or the greatness and strength of a noble, invincible spirit; or order and moderation in everything said and done , whereby temperance and self-control.
~ Cicero, De Officiis, I, 5 (45-44 BC)

(This is from a conversation had late a while back in which I could not articulate very well and so I am finally getting to writing the thoughts out that I could not seem to come up with at that time).

We take for granted the fact that our civilization lives by a set of rules. More so, moral codes, which beg the questions: what does it mean to do the right thing? Should we help a stranger in need? How do we deal with someone who is not very nice to us? Should we ever exploit someone who treats us kindly? If hurt by a friend or helped by an enemy, should we repay in kind or does any past behaviour outweigh recent departures from the status quo?

We probably come across these questions – or forms of them – much more often than we might initially think. Human behaviour is complex, so are there any hard and fast rules in which to apply to any of these scenarios? Of course not, because of our complexity. So then, how do we decide what to do? Knowing how to behave is a part of being wise.

Over the course of human history, we have devised a set of rules in which to apply. Each one varies rather significantly, and it is only recently that we have attempted – scientifically, anyway – to show which one or ones works most often. Granted, this is not an exact science.

The first rule is often termed the Golden Rule, and is this: do unto others as you would have them do unto you. That probably sounds familiar. We all know that rule. None of us actually follows it. Or at least hardly any of us. Why don't we follow this simple and enlightened rule? Because it does not take into account any of our differences and ultimately it is a losing proposition (keep reading, or not .... )

So we devised a Silver Rule, which is: do not do unto others what you would not have them do unto you. Two notable examples of followers of this rule are of course Ghandi and MLK, Jr. It was their mission to tell others not to repay violence with violence, but not to be compliant either. For their followers to show, through civil disobedience, their defiance to a certain law or injustice. But even Ghandi admitted that "I have not the qualifications for teaching my philosophy of life. I have barely the qualifications for practicing the philosophy I believe. I am but a poor struggling soul yearning to be wholly truthful and wholly nonviolent in thought, word and deed, but ever failing to reach the ideal."

So we devised a Brass Rule, which is: do unto others as they do unto you. "Repay kindness with kindness, but evil with justice," said Confucius. Put another way, it says "an eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth." This is the most common human behaviour, whether or not we want to admit it. But is it true or not that two wrongs do not make a right?

So we devised the Iron Rule, which is: do unto others as you like, before they do it unto you. This rule is one often followed by (surprise!) those in power, as it seems to openly shun the Golden Rule. There are far too many examples of this behaviour found throughout our all-too-short history.

So that begs the question: which one is right? Is the most commonly-followed rule the most flawed? It can be easily discerned that the Brass Rule can perpetuate many, many atrocities – both on a small scale as well as a global scale. The Iron Rule seems to promote the advantage of a ruthless and powerful few against the interests of everyone else. But on the other hand, aren't the Golden and Silver Rules, well, too nice because they do not punish cruelty and exploitation of others? So is any of them right all of the time, or must we always analyze a situation before applying a rule to its outcome?

Like I mentioned, we have just recently begun to study this from a scientific perspective. We are used to playing games where one person wins and everyone else loses. It's natural. We grew up learning these games. In these kinds of games, the losses end up balancing out the wins so they are known as "zero-sum" games. There's no grey area – your opponent will do everything in their power to beat you (assumingly within the rules of the game). Take Monopoly, for example – there is no way to play that game cooperatively for the betterment of all. Sounds ridiculous, right? That's not how it is designed. Someone – just one – always wins. So the only rule that we have defined above that applies to these zero-sum games is the Iron Rule. So that begs the question now, that if the Golden (or even the Silver) Rule is so highly revered, why is it rarely practiced?

However, there are different games – or scenarios. Take the ravaging of the environment, for example. Does one side win by doing this? Of course not, we both lose – us and it. And on the flip-side, what about giving to someone in need? We feel good and those we gave too do as well – this is win-win.

So there are three different scenarios then in which we can apply our four rules. The scientific field that deals with experimenting with the outcomes by applying different rules (or strategies) is known as game theory, and it is used in many different fields (from playing the stock market to military exploits and so forth). The paradigm is a game called the Prisoner's Dilemma (the funny thing is I had a very wise assistant principal in junior high who applied this fascinating theory on my good friend and me – I will not divulge our crime). It is not at all a zero-sum game, as all three scenarios are possible when played out. It works like this: suppose you and a friend are arrested for committing a crime of some sort. It does not matter if either, neither or both of you are guilty. What matters only is that the police (or, um, your vice principal) thinks you did it. And before the two of you can get your stories straight (exactly!), you are interrogated separately (genius, that Mr. Lacey).

So what happens? Well, the police of course tell you that your friend has confessed and implicated you. They may or may not be telling the truth. You can of course only plead innocent or guilty (claiming "I don't know" does not really work here). So, what do you do? You think quickly of the outcomes:

1) You deny everything and so does your friend (although you don't know that they have) so the case is hard to prove and you both get off.
2) You confess and so does your friend, so the case is easy to prove and you both get a light sentence but neither of you are off scott-free.
3) You plead innocent but your friend confesses, so he gets off with a lighter punishment and you get raked over the coals (this is of course called a double-cross). And then you're grounded for I cannot remember how long. Uh, nevermind.

So if you both cooperate – meaning you either both confess or deny – you both escape the worst. So should you play it safe and guarantee a middle-of-the-road punishment by confessing? Too bad for your friend if he pleads innocent, right? Uh, sorry Jim. When you have had a minute to think about it and you're not some scheming little seventh grader, you realize that whatever your friend does you're better off defecting (doing the opposite) than cooperating (doing the same). Um, but of course the same holds true for them. But, um, if you both defect you're both worse off than had you both cooperated. This is the dilemma ....

Once you've sorted that out, consider if you will a repeated Prisoner's Dilemma where you go through a sequence of these games. Kind of like what we do subconsciously (or consciously) on a daily basis when faced with a situation in which we must decide for ourselves what is the "right" thing to do. And this of course happens over time – the whole of human history, say. Will the two people learn to cooperate game after game, both always denying or admitting their guilt? What if you cooperate too much, will your friend exploit your vulnerability? But if you defect too much, won't your friend end up defecting as much, which is bad for both of you? What is the right mix of defection vs. cooperation?

This has been studied of course over time, and the simplest strategies are thus to either always cooperate, no matter how much advantage is taken of you, or always defect, no matter the fact that there are benefits to cooperating. These are the Golden and Iron Rules, respectively. The key that can be discerned here is that they always lose (in the sense of the resulting punishment over time), the one from always being nice, the other from always being ruthless. So should you defect at first, but if your friend (or opponent) cooperates just once, then you cooperate in all future games? Or do the opposite? Well, those also lose because, unlike in zero-sum games, you cannot rely on your opponent to be always out to get you (unless perhaps they are some sort of sociopath).

So the answer is (this is probably a pretty long post so if you've made it this far props) .... it's simple: "quid pro quo." Meaning, in the effort of goodwill you start out cooperating, and in each successive round you just do what your friend did the last round. You punish a defection by defecting, but once they cooperate, you're willing to let that be water under the bridge and you move on back to cooperating. As time goes on and the game is repeated ad infinitum (and other strategies have defeated themselves from being too kind or too mean) you pull ahead and you're only grounded for an afternoon or so. So what rule does this equate (which is ultimately the answer, I think)?

Wait for it .... the Brass Rule (which, since it's way back up there, is "do unto others as they do unto you").

This is a surprisingly simple game, as it must be in order to test the different theories. Real life is of course much more complex. So what does this mean? Do random acts of kindness – if widespread – improve us all? So it would seem. It also seems the lessons learned from this dilemma are ones about the self-defeating nature of envy, and perhaps of the importance of long-term vs. short term goals (the winning strategy does not appear to win at first, but only over time does it prove to do so). I find it extremely interesting.

No wonder I had a hard time recounting that off the top of my head at one o'clock in the morning.

the asphalt world.

OK then. The. Greatest. Pop. Song. Of. All. Time.

Ever.

This is Beethoven's Ninth in D minor for pop music. Parred down from overdubbed guitars and synths and drums and samples and cymbal crashes and drugs to a piano and a cello and his voice in A minor.


Apparently before performing this and leaving, he played The 2 of Us which holds the ranking of the third greatest pop song of all time (okay, maybe second – and of course then second or third is also a Suede song coincidentally from the same album), and before that He's Gone. Someone who was at the theatre commented it was the best three-run song ever. I would have agreed had I made it through. If you really want to hear the nine-and-a-half-minute long album version, buy the vinyl and listen to it on a hi-fi as loud as you can stand. Louder actually. Much much louder.