I find that the discussion around the Intelligent-Design controversy is often clouded by rhetorical spin from one side or the other. I thought this brief note from William Dembski captured the central issue clearly: See “Evolutionary Informatics as Intelligent Design and not as Theistic Evoluation.” See also my previous entry, “Spin and Rhetorical Intimidation.”
AB — 24 August 2009
Something went wrong with this building demolition in Cankiri, Turkey:
AB — 3 August 2009
Found some amusing photos of unusual animals. Wonder if some of them are photoshopped hoaxes. I was worried about the kid riding on a komodo dragon until I read that it is actually a bronze replica. Not sure what animal this is in the photo linked here, but it reminds me of my UNC philosophy professor.
AB 31 July 2009
xkcd had a great cartoon today about a professor, a cop, and a president (linked below):
AB — 31 July 2009
Ran across this crazy, exciting art print just released by Jim Flora Art. If I was flush right now, I would consider shelling out the $175:
James Flora lived 1914-1998, and was known for his jazz album covers and children’s books. Looking at the Flora web site, I would say the family is doing a great job of marketing his art.
AB — 21 July 2009
The other day I ran across a kind of cute story in the Daily News about the couple holding each other wrapped in a quilt, the photo of whom was used on the cover of the Woodstock album and has become one of those iconic 60s images — see “Woodstock concert’s undercover lovers, Nick and Bobbi Ercoline, 40 years after summer of love.”
Upon looking at the photo, though, what occurred to me was not how romantic or evocative the image might be, but how much litter is on the ground and what a mess the festival made. Here’s a link to the photo:
And here’s the same couple today (still married):
AB — 20 July 2009
Just yesterday I read on The Watchismo Times (a blog dedicated to unusual timepieces) about a new mechanical wristwatch designed with a linear time display rather than the traditional circular clock face. (See “Urwerk King Cobra CC1 Reintrepretation of 1958 Patek Philippe Cobra Prototype – Cylindrical Retrograde Linear Jumping Hour Display.”)
This design is thought-provoking: We normally conceive of time as a line, and yet for centuries the standard timepiece interface has been a circle. The author of the Watchismo site explains why this is:
Why do we think of time as travelling in a straight line yet display it rotating around a circle? The answer is straightforward: mechanisms that continually rotate are much simpler to produce than those that trace a straight line then return to zero. In fact, the latter is so difficult that, until now, nobody has ever managed to develop a production wristwatch with true retrograde linear displays.
It makes me think about how I conceive time personally. In the big picture, I think I do see time as a straight line going infinitely to the left and right.
In spite of the more linear design of the calendars I use, I believe I conceive of the calendar as a circle, as if the year were superimposed on a standard clock face. However, in my mind, the calendar runs counterclockwise with January at approximately the 11:00 position. I think my circular conception of the calendar comes from the periodic nature of the solar year. Why the year goes counterclockwise in my mind I don’t know.
When it comes to my conception of days, though, I see some ambiguities. I do conceive of them on some level as a circle of 24 hours, but on reflection I think that conception is at least partly based on the circular clock faces we use to keep time, as well as on the collective 24-hour standard we use to keep our society synchronized.
Certainly the new Urwerk King Cobra CC1 provides food for thought about how we think about time and about the user interfaces of the devices we use to keep track of it. Below is a link to Watchismo’s picture of the watch. Watchismo also provides many fascinating details about how the watch is designed and constructed.
AB — 10 July 2009
Today I ran across this great comic by Sydney Padua on the BBC News web site. In the 19th century, Charles Babbage invented the Difference Engine, a mechanical precursor of computers.
The difference engine was never completed during Babbage’s lifetime, but here is a link to a photo of one at the London Science Museum built recently.
AB — 9 July 2009
[Note: This is another essay/memoir I wrote awhile back and just rediscovered. Decided to publish it here on Quriosity to give it the exposure and adulation it deserves. AB — 26 June 2009]
The American Dream
A memoir, mostly true, from Spring 1972
by Al Bredenberg
Oct. 10, 2006
Melissa (not her real name) walked with me across the quadrangle after our American Literature class. The sun shone on her curly brown hair through the tall oak trees, their leaves bright green in their early spring growth. Melissa had very large brown eyes and an ample figure that filled out in a pleasing way the tight dress with low-cut rounded neckline, a bright floral print on crinkly fabric like crepe paper.
I asked her to go out with me and was happy when she said she would.
The night of our date, I walked to Melissa’s dorm from the house near downtown Chapel Hill where I lived with my friends John and Linda. Melissa lived in Granville Towers, not exactly a dorm — more of a quasi-off-campus apartment tower for kids with a little more money. When I had lived on campus my first semester, I had lived in Avery, one of the plebe dorms on campus.
Melissa was what at the time I would have called a “straight girl.” I didn’t go out with many straight girls, but Melissa was very pretty and nice to talk to — a doll with cheerleader good looks. And when I asked her out she said yes, so that was a positive sign. That usually didn’t happen with straight girls.
To be honest, I don’t remember much about that date. Knowing my financial situation at the time, I doubt if we did anything that cost money. I do remember that Melissa dressed down for me, wearing jeans with a white blouse. I do remember walking together; there’s a real possibility that the entire date consisted of walking around Chapel Hill and the UNC campus. I remember I told her about the meditation and yoga classes I had been taking from Ananda Marga Yoga Society and about my recent initiation with an Indian teacher called Dadaji. Hearing all of this, Melissa listened politely but didn’t have much to say. I can’t imagine what she thought about this skinny, long-haired, bearded oddball with the expanding consciousness.
Besides American Literature, I was taking Latin, Music Appreciation, and Creative Writing. In American Literature we were studying The Great Gatsby — my second try at this novel, as it was one of the ones I was supposed to have read as a junior in high school.
One day, not long after my date with Melissa (not her real name), our professor, Dr. Allen (not his real name either) started using the phrase “the American Dream” during our Great Gatsby discussion. That phrase actually sneaked out of his mouth and drifted around the room two or three times before it slithered past me and got my attention. He used it in a familiar, pat, matter-of-fact sort of way, but I wasn’t about to let him get away with it.
“What do you mean by ‘the American Dream’?” I blurted out.
Dr. Allen leveled a smug gaze at me, a hint of a smile pulling up the corners of his mouth. He explained the concept in a soothing voice: “It’s the goal we all have as Americans: to achieve wealth and success through hard work and competition.”
I sat back, eyes wide, jaw dropping. “You’re joking, right?”
The silvery, balding professorial head tilted slightly. “That’s what we’re all looking for. That’s what happiness is all about, isn’t it?”
“Nobody really believes that, do they?” Titters arose from around the classroom. I glanced around at my classmates.
“That’s why you’re all here at college. To get an education, get a good job, get ahead in the world.”
“That’s crazy,” I said. “Nobody really buys that, do they?” More titters and a few guffaws. Dr. Allen smiled down indulgently. I glanced wildly around the classroom. “Is that what you all think? Do you really think it’s going to make you happy to make it in this world and get rich?” Their expressions gave me the answer.
“So did you think that was funny?” I asked Melissa after class, as we walked across the brick courtyard in front of the bookstore. Big round eyes, full face, rounded figure. She smiled and nodded.
It came to me that this was going to be my last semester at UNC, even though I loved learning and I was making good grades. I was going to finish the semester in a few weeks and go get a job as a carpenter.
“Why are you here at school?” I asked her.
She shrugged and spoke in a matter-of-fact, ‘well, of course’ tone: “So I can get a job and make a lot of money.”
“Is that really what you think is going to make you satisfied?”
A puzzled smile on her luscious mouth. So beautiful it hurt to look at her. “Well, sure.”
“I don’t believe in it,” I said. “It’s not real.”
Large brown eyes glistening. “I don’t understand what you mean,” said Melissa. Not her real name. Actually, I don’t remember her real name.
AB — Written 10 October 2006, posted here 26 June 2009
Whistling is used as a mode of language in some cultures, especially where there is a need to communicate at large distances — whistling sounds can carry a long way and can be used to simulate spoken words.
Yesterday on Boing Boing, Joshua Foer wrote about Silbo, the whistling language of La Gomera, one of Spain’s Canary Islands — see “The Whistling Island of La Gomera.”
The following video, linked from YouTube, gives a fascinating demostration of Silbo. The speaker describes the features of the island using only Silbo, with subtitles in Spanish.
After listening to the speaker for only a minute or so, I believe I was able to discern that numbers are expressed as quick chirps at different pitches, and that some words are distinguished by a rising or falling tone, as in tonal languages like Mandarin.
Foer, who writes the Atlas Obscura blog, says that Silbo nearly became extinct in the 1990s, but efforts by Gomera inhabitants have led to the language’s inclusion in school curricula on the island — see “The Whistling Island.” He writes that Silbo has more than 4,000 words.
For more information about Gomera and the Silbo language, see this web site.
AB — 20 June 2009
A Thinking Person, a.k.a. Cogit8R 