I am arriving in Israel on December 19th, Sunday, 9:15
I am leaving in Israel on December 31st, Thursday, 23:40
If you want to see me in Israel, this is when you can do it.
I am arriving in Israel on December 19th, Sunday, 9:15
I am leaving in Israel on December 31st, Thursday, 23:40
If you want to see me in Israel, this is when you can do it.
So, remember the post where I talked about settling in? Well, here is a progress report:
I got:
I think it means I’ve settled in. Amazing.
Some people don’t believe me when I say There’s Too Many Stupid Parodies of the infamous Hayes song. Here is a small collection, intended to prove my point:
Anyone know anything I missed? I’ve heard of “Little Furry Animals”, but could not find lyrics online. Anything else?
[I wrote this in the NaNoWriMo forum, after growing sick of the nth post of how books have smell and are so much nicer than e-book readers.]
I don’t think the handwritten book is going away anytime soon. I, for one, love the feeling of a hand-copied book in my hands, as I sit down to read it. Will mass-printed books be popular? Sure! But without the elaborate illustrations (printing technology still cannot do this, and I doubt it ever will be), or the feeling of an expert master of the pen, giving each word *just* the right feel to it, I don’t think they will every replace the hand-copied books. Those monks are not going to be replaced by machines anytime soon!
Ummm…..wait. I just checked my calendar. Here’s what I really meant to write:
I don’t think the storytellers are going to go away anytime soon. I, for one, love sitting by the fire and feeling the words of the storyteller wash over me. Will written books be popular? Sure! But without the ability to be customized to the audience, and without the ability to be understood even without the need to learn the alphabet, I don’t think they will ever replace the storytellers. They aren’t going to be replaced by the monks anytime soon!
Did I get that wrong? Oh, right.
I don’t think the paper books are going to go away anytime soon. I, for one, love the feeling of paper in my hands as I sit down to read a book. Will e-books be popular? Sure! But without better resolution (print resolution is still 10x that of eInk resolution) or the ability to work for days without power, I doubt they will ever replace the paper books. The books aren’t going to be replaced by screens anytime soon.
I think I finally have the correct rant for the time period. Please call me in 50 years so I can write the rant about how direct-to-neural books will never replace e-books.
A friend of mine, a math PhD, was seeing a lady who was working on her BSc. in CS. She was in a “numerical methods” class, and she needed to understand least squares. Naturally, she turned to my friend and asked to be tutored. Now, there was no reason my friend would ever need to know least squares, and indeed he did not. He asked me what least squares was. My explanation started with “Let’s take the Hilbert space of…”. I assumed he’d work out the equations, and explain those to her. He took an, ahem, “alternate” route of starting by explaining Hilbert spaces. That — that worked out less well than could be expected.
In the interest of completeness, here is the explanation. Let {x_1,..,x_n} be numbers, and let H:{x_i}->R be the vector space of real-valued functions. There is a natural inner product structure on H: <f,g>=\sum f(x_i)g(x_i). Let id be the function x_i->x_i, and 1 be the function x_i->1. Let H_0 be the space spanned by id and 1. Let L:H->H_0 be the orthogonal projection. L(f) is therefore an affine function, and it is the “least squares approximation” of f.
Exercise: find a formula for the projection in terms of f(x_i).
I thought the SG-1 S8 finale was an interesting take on the time travel plot, particularly because it also tied into another classic plot device: the so-called “groundhog day” plot.
If you want to improve the future in a very specific way (say, make sure the Z.P.M. remains hidden on earth rather than taken away), but you’re afraid of the consequences of modifying the timeline too much and make bad things happen (say, Carter not joining the military which in the canon means that earth falls to Apophis), how do you do that?
Well, you can realize that where there’s timetravel, there’s groundhog day: you can travel again and again, until the desired combination is reached. How? Well, bury a video camera with a video having everyone describe the future as they know it. Whenever this future is not correct, go back in time and fix it. This can end in one of several ways:
Nowhere near fool-proof, as we can see – but still, a reasonable plan in the face of dangerous circumstances, because it has (some) built-in safety features. We can call that “Implemeting Groundhog Day with Time-travel”…
I remember, when I was in “literature” class in my first year of junior high, the teacher said one thing that surprised me: “The writer, and specifically the question, ‘what did the writer mean’, has no place in literature.” The goal of literary analysis, she explained, is to understand what the book means — when the author was done with the book, his ability to affect it ended. It surprised me, as I imagine it surprised all of us back then. But it made sense, when you think about it — the writer expressed his ideas in the book, but the book, as a work, stands apart, and needs to be understood on its own merits.
Then the exceptions started. First, even when we analysed books in the same class, we had to research the writer. Not, of course, that he was relevant — but knowing what kind of world he grew up in would give us further insights to his metaphors. Then, there are sequels, where it’s not completely obvious, but the general agreement is that you’re allowed to use what’s said in a sequel to understand the previous book. We enter a murky world of “what’s canon” when there are many books, some written with the approval but not the scrutiny of the original author. And then, there’s “Dumbledore’s gay”…
…you knew it would come to that, wouldn’t you?…
JKR specifically chose to say this after the series was over. The speculated motivations for that are anywhere from “she didn’t want it to overshadow the series” to “she didn’t want to lose the money from the Christian demographic.” It does not matter why, however, she said it. Now, is it canon?
No? What if she wrote a paragraph on her blog, where Dumbledore contemplates his gayness? What if it was a short story? A prequel? A sequel? At which point does it become “canon” in HP mythology?
What if it wasn’t “Dumbledore’s gay” but something less politically charged, like “Harry and Hermione are actually distant cousins, which is why they got along so well”? Would that be easier to come into canon if it was in a sequel?
A lot of these thoughts came to me reading Sanderson’s commentary on Mistborn (1+2) on his web sites. Many chapters’ comments were “it might not be obvious, but that character was just in such-and-such-place and that’s why he could do this-and-that.” Are these comments completely dismissable in understanding the Mistborn books? Would they become canon if they were in a sequel? A world-guide?
I submit that we stop pretending. An author is inseperable from his work. While sometimes it has allegorical meanings even when explicitly protested (see the “Cheese Man” analysis claiming the Cheese is a metaphore for Buffy), it is nonsensical to stick our fingers in our ears and hum loudly in order to ignore the author trying to explain.
Thousands, perhaps millions (or perhaps billions, or trillions — but bear with me) there was an ancient civilizations. It has achieved things we can only dream about (faster-than-light travel, powerful magic, social utopia) but for some reason (internal conflict, strange disease, raiders from outer space) it has fallen down. Today, sifting through the ruins of this once-great empire, we can advance our science a hundred-fold with no original research — just an attempt to understand what our ancestors had.
Sounds familiar?
This is the premise of countless fantasy and (though less universally) science fiction worlds. The sifting-through-the-ruins for science-and-technology-we-can-hardly-imagine is a classical trope. Stargate managed to build a whole franchise out of it, but the dreams of an early, forgotten, stage of glory that we can recapture merely by being diligient enough in sifting through the archeological ruins is a classic everywhere.
How comes it makes sense? If we compare the world we grew up with the ones our parents grew up in, or our grandparents (or, alternatively, the one in which it seems our children will grow up in), it seems to be moving in one direction: progress relentlessly marching on. Perhaps it marches on some luddites’ toes, but it marches on towards more science, more technology. And yet, the premise of the once-ancient civilizations which is thousands of years ahead of us seems eminently plausible.
I suggest that like many things, it is based on something very real. There was exactly one period during history in which that was eminently true — the Renaissance. After the dark ages, which followed the Roman empire, suddenly it was OK again to delve into knowledge. The Romans had writings and plans that far preceded the people of that time. Indeed, much of the scientific advances at that period were merely attempts to rediscover what the Romans already knew. It was certainly an exciting time to be a scientist — just learning what the Romans had could fill one’s lives. Worst of all — this was when the modern notion of science and technology started. And so, the birth of modern science was shrouded in the mystique of rediscovering an early civilization. Like any formative experience at an early age, it set the tone for the rest of science’s life — and was given free reign in science-fiction, where we could exaggerate the Romans into “Atlantis” and its counterparts, where we could know all the universe’s knowledge, if we but decipher the ancient writings.
These days I’m catching up on my SG-1 and NCIS. As I drifted off to sleep, I realized my thoughts kept confusing characters.
NCIS is composed of: Gibbs — super-leader, Anthony — the ex-cop who understands the “street”, Timothy — the scientist who is ok with wielding weapons, and Ziva/Kate — the secret-agent/super-soldier type.
SG-1 is composed of: O’Neill — super leader, Te’alc — the ex-Jaffa who understands the “go’auld street”, Dr. Jackson — the scientist who is ok with wielding weapons, and Sam — the scientist/super-soldier type.
So the first obvious conclusion is that NCIS is a space-opera in all but name — the characters follow the exact pattern of space opera characters. The FBI in NCIS and the NID in SG-1 perform the function of being the friend/foe “other” agency, which is responsible of being the shady agency. Instead of terrorists, SG-1 fights the go’auld — a species who’s strongest capacity is the ability to be anyone, anytime
Though sometimes, rarely, accompanying them in the field, NCIS receive support from Abbey and Dr. Mallard. These combine to form the character of Dr. Frasier in SG-1, responsible for analysis and medical care. General Hammond functions in a similar capacity of the Director — responsible for being sympathetic, while obviously having to juggle between their personal ethics and the duty of a position which is as much about politics as it is about actually doing something useful.
Of course, not everything is the same — in SG-1, the romantic subplot is between O’Neill and Sam, whereas in NCIS, it’s between Anthony and Ziva. And of course, while NCIS dropped the “Navy” from its original name of “Navy NCIS”, SG-1 kept the name of “Stargate: SG-1″ until its finale…
(This is an idea for a role-playing setting. Just in case you are reading this and are worried that I became insane.)
For millenia, a war has been brewing in our world. Rationale and Emotion have been at war with each other. In this war, the humans are not the combatants, but the battle-ground — and no matter which side prevails, or ties, they lose. Lives and destinys are ruined by the war, and have been ruined since the beginning of time. For humans to do their bidding, they have traded in the secrets of the universe. Science, wizardry and witchcraft have been used by them to recruit the cannon fodder to their cause.
One group said enough. They are known as the “Ancient Illuminated Seers of Bavaria” — or often just as “The Illuminati”. Formed by Adam Weishaupt, they have infiltrated the very same organizations the Warriors of Rationale and Emotion have infiltrated, often from inside the Warriors themselves. They subtly undermine the missions, the acts of war and anything they can in order to free the human race. Their motto is, “From the Shadows, We Protect”.
In a world where the heroes are double-agents, do you know who trust?
[I'm not sure if I'll be running this campaign or not. If you are interested, though, please let me know.]