For the record books…

In which part of the year is your area setting new maximum temperatures?

In which year: HSV-record-max-temp-year?

Thanks to the NOAA NWS Huntsville website for this data.

Real question:  is there a pattern in the data that we can do anything to change?

Getting old, can’t remember how to insert a table…

Have you ever forgotten the simplest capabilities such as inserting a table into a blog entry or how to create a macro in a spreadsheet?

Boy, am I getting older, not so much more forgetful, just more stuff to push to the front of my thoughts, letting the less-used thoughts sit in unused neuronal pathways.

That’s why I’m listening to the Cikada String Quartet on earphones while I write this.  Nothing like a little Kaija Saariaho, John Cage and Bruno Maderna to rearrange my thought patterns and make new connections to old habits.

I digress.

I came here to catalog a thought that bugged me while traveling a long distance between two cities.

What is the value of keeping my old car — with no monthly payments and little in the way of major repair costs — in relation to fuel efficiency of more modern vehicles?  Is there a significant difference such that I should spend time hunting investment-quality instruments to “play”?

For instance, my car gets 25 MPG (U.S. Miles Per U.S. Gallon) in the city and 30 MPG on the highway.

Traveling 25,000 miles a year back-and-forth to the city, I burn about 1000 U.S. gallons.

If I had a vehicle that got 40 MPG, I’d burn about 625 gallons.

A difference of 375 gallons, about 1 gallon per day.

What is my monthly cost savings using average cost per gallon for those 375 fossil fuel units?

375 gallons x [$/gallon] /12 = cost savings per month

$/gallon ….. cost savings per month
3 ….. $93.75
4 ….. $125
5 ….. $156.25
8 ….. $250
10 ….. $312.50

Therefore, by not purchasing a new vehicle with more efficient fuel usage, I spend about an extra $100 per month (ignoring new vehicle monthly payments vs. old vehicle average monthly maintenance, insurance, licence fees, etc., which would make the difference negligible (in fact, the costs would be significantly more in the other direction [it saves me money to keep the old car])).

Conclusion: I have no one to impress (no need for the latest gadgets, shiniest rims, sleekest lines, Internet access while driving, surround sound system or safety features), so the old bulldog, the baby BMW 325i, sits at the top of the driveway, ready to burn 25-30 miles per gallon at my request, saving me money in comparison to purchasing a new vehicle, costing me money in comparison to walking or riding a bicycle (since public transportation is nonexistent in my neighbourhood).  Now I can throw away that scrap of paper on which I scribbled the calculations!

A Planet of Self-Actualised Individuals

First of all, a big “Thanks!” to Terry at the AT&T landline phone repair group.

Although Trish and Trina of AT&T weekend support had great phone voices when I talked to them about my home landline having problems, they simply saw (presumably on computer screens) a report that my landline was fine, which they courteously reported back to me on the AT&T mobile phone I used to report unacceptable issues with my AT&T landline.

Unfortunately, friendly as they were, it did not solve the landline problems of strange pops, clicks, hums and, intermittently, no dial tone and/or no ADSL service.

Terry drove 35-40 miles across town yesterday and investigated the problem.

It appears, from his description, that a bad card in the box down by the highway (a DSLAM, perhaps?) was the source.  In any case, he swapped the landline connection to a different port and Voila! service as clear as a bell (Ma Bell to the rescue) and quiet as a mouse (no squeaks, though) are the lack of sounds I like to hear.

Terry, you’re my wife’s Hometown Hero of the Day!

Many more to thank, but on to other matters, next…

What does it take to make you happy?

In a network of seven billion people, how many do you know who do not seek material wealth or social/public accolades, finding, instead, a deep sense of self-worth and self-satisfaction by simply living in the moment, irregardless of current circumstances?

When you tell a species, that has developed a way to externalise the internal imagery a central nervous system has nurtured through social and self education, to let loose on an individual basis, putting social conforming norms aside, what do you get?

Does the species create a new thought process that makes former definitions of success irrelevant?

What about those who still seek the old ways of defining glory?

What about subcultures that depend upon forceful means for maintaining their existence?

Some will defend their subcultures to the death.

Some will accept/believe that enough people in their subculture want to perpetuate their peaceful means/way that they feel no need to defend themselves, accepting newcomers with differing beliefs into their lives, letting their day-to-day activities, rather than words or force, serve as examples.

In fact, our personality traits define the subcultural practices to which we best belong or toward which we tend to gravitate.

We do not choose the influences upon us during our formative years.

For a few years, we are nearly helpless, defenseless, and then, as we become aware of our individual strengths/weaknesses, we not only react to our environment, we proactively shape our environment.

As a child, I was raised primarily in a suburban environment.

When I was strong enough and tall enough, my father placed me behind a lawnmower and told me to get to work.

Eventually, I performed the lawnmowing duties for my neighbours, pricing my work according to the financial means I perceived — the elderly, retired lady next door paid me a few dollars but I was more grateful for the glass of fresh, cold lemonade or iced tea she made me than the money — I was taught that mowing was not just a job but a form of social duty.

Every dollar I earned was one less dollar my parents felt obligated, up to a point, to provide me to maintain the lifestyle of a suburban teenager who liked to walk to the store and buy a candy bar, one or two bottles of soda, a pack of chewing gum and a comic book, sharing them with my friends who got their money in ways I never thought to ask.

Meanwhile, national governments motivated military troops to maneuver into position in official war zones to protect and define the lines that divided major lifestyles because the idea of global economic trade had not been fully fleshed out yet.

That was then, this is now.

Kids still mow lawns, with girls as likely to stand behind the self-propelled mower as boys.  Just as common are professional lawncare service companies that sweep through neighbourhoods, mowing grass, trimming hedges, planting flowers and rearranging topiary animal displays.

Enough profit is generated by our modern global economy to free up millions of people from work, and thus their social duty, if they don’t want to.

“Free up?”

We still have to breathe, eat and sleep so we are not free from our bodily needs, no matter how financial and mentally secure we may be.

We are free to exercise our imaginations.

More and more often, we are free to express our imaginations publicly.

In a global economy, what is the connection between the general culture where global economic activity takes places and the subcultures that were once isolated from each other when warzones were acceptable means of controlling subcultural interaction?

A popular term right now is “Internet censorship.”

Every subculture has terms and ideas that are taboo.

Hate crimes, deity insults, unapproved bombings/killings, unsanctioned robbery/theft…

We redefine our actions in accordance with subcultural rules.

Behind every wall is a person who doesn’t want to be there for one reason or another, if only for a brief moment.

The grass is always greener on the other side.

Many rules/laws define my existence at this moment — grammar rules, computer operating system rules, the law of gravity, the local/state/national/global rules/laws that govern my ability to communicate across an interplanetary electronic network…

I see friends and acquaintances come and go as Internet firewalls are loosened/strengthened because of the perception that governments feel the need to protect subcultural taboos, defending their lifestyles, including mine.

All of the actions of my species I take into account as I look back at us 1000 years from now, seeing how we became who we will be (or are, depending on perspective).

Once colonies become independent, like children, they redefine their ideas of self, sometimes maintaining previous definitions and sometimes stretching their imaginations toward something we can’t imagine today.

One day, we see the visible light and invisible energy of galaxies as the foam on the sea of the universe, and the next day, we declare that perhaps the galaxies are all there is out there — mathematical formulae created imaginatively and then tested against observation.

Either way, we’re still a superset of states of energy that calls itself a species that depends on other species that live on/in us to give us the freedom to say we’ve reached the state of self-actualisation, happy to do whatever makes us happy in the moment, socially connected/defined or purposefully isolated individually.

Or, for some, a happy moment in the future we believe will exist for us, if we just work harder/smarter for ourselves and/or for the social good/[sub]culture to which we say/believe we belong.

Gender in the news

Putting aside the issue of nontraditional gender roles, on a basic level of two genders in our species, here’s some interesting data to crunch for today:

  • Gender in the U.S.
  • Gender by age in the U.S. — interesting trend by age and by decade, isn’t it?  Those baby boomers are bulging in more ways than one, it appears:

Numerologists share their excitement

Amazing the good luck numerologists felt today when their prediction that their supersecret number, 250, which translates to the expression 5^2x2x5, is also the most probably place where one will find the God particle, a/k/a the Higgs boson, in the range of 115-135 GeV.

Don’t get it, do you?  See, 115 plus 135 equals 250.

Aww, you ejits can’t add, can you?

Well, the numerologists have got more up their sleeves than arm hair, so don’t go ’round making fun of their predictions that six sigma’s not that far behind 2.2 sigma, which leads to five sigma and you know what that means!

Solar storms and asteroid hits in the next few decades putting major crimps in me plan to dominate the solar system, that’s what!

So I’ll raise a cautious pint to them numerologists and hope their predictions are right on, if not Right on!

Night, y’all!

Avogadro’s Number, or is it PV = nRT?

In our supercomputer simulations, we represent sub/cultures and countries as molecules.

In one recent simulation, we asked the supercomputer network to calculate how many helium-filled balloons it would take to carry a payload into outer space.

The computer stopped immediately and asked exactly how we planned to fill the balloons with helium.

In other words, if one balloon is “full” of helium, it will burst at a lower elevation than a balloon only partially “full,” but the partially-filled balloon will not carry as large a payload.

A latex rubber knapsack problem intersecting a few gas laws.

You, the reader, are fully aware, aren’t you, what this means.

An enclosed space that we pretend contains largely a uniform distribution of a “pure” substance — gas or subcultural beliefs, for example — tends to behave according to simple mathematical formulae.

Telegraph a public message that contains little in the way of subtext and you can expect a ready answer in return.

On the other hand, atmospheric conditions are not uniform.  Pressure is related to density of gas molecules and gas ratio distribution, is it not?  Atmospheric disturbances, including solar heat related phenomena and patterns we give labels such as “Arctic Oscillation” also play into the picture.

People, are, for the most part predictable.  A person raised in a remote Pakistani village will probably not suddenly start dancing a perfect Argentinian tango from out of nowhere.

Which means we can tell the supercomputer to add layered parameters to the simulation, with every layer’s data passed into the simulation and the simulation rerun when the previous layer’s data has been crunched into output that is available to add to the next layer’s data crunching.

Inside every layer are matrices of changes, some predictable and some random, that we build from hypotheses and hallway discussions rather than tried-and-true scientific formulae broken down into simple subroutines.

Often, we save a set of output data, vary a layer’s matrix and rerun the simulation for one specific layer over and over with large numbers of matrix variations.

What’s the point of having a good hypothesis if you can’t subject it to rigorous testing and verification?

So, if I want a payload of a known mass that is not changed by atmospheric pressure changes to reach outer space, I give the supercomputer network the number of balloons I wish to attach to the payload and ask it to tell me at which elevations the balloon(s) burst until the last one carries the payload into outer space.

The same goes for the 3D chess game that is the constant interaction of sub/cultures.  A person is a molecule is a subculture is a balloon is a culture is a generalised personality archetype.

Bottom line: two issues hog some of the international news spotlight — the massacres in Syria and the nearly uncontrollable bankrupt behaviour of Greece.

It’s like telling Hernandez’ agent that the NY Giants will find a way to secretly reward him for his behaviour toward the end of the 2012 NFL Super Bowl.  Some things should be too obvious to mention.

But they aren’t.

So, we have to proceed with what’s next.

The Committee wants to box me into a corner and force me into making a decision that sways the next U.S. Presidential election.

Some want me to reveal what the supercomputer network says is a religious forecast that predicts the balance of faith-based belief for the next century or so.

Others want to ensure their families are well provided for, as usual.

For me, it’s always the hardest task to give the supercomputer network a touch of irony and sarcasm in its output.

I don’t care whether a CPU is multicore and has interlaced optical memory or if some portions of the network still operate with relay-based and bubble memory.

I sit here, after the end of a grueling session with the Committee, with seven billion of us to manage, as individuals, multiplexed into subcultures or a combination of the two that I vary by degrees in simulation scenarios that either I see fit to estimate or is input by the hacker network I depend on to throw me an unexpected curve every now and then.

Change is constant.

If India completely rejects monetary aid from the UK, who will follow by example?  Will this influence future Saudi military contracts with the U.S.?  Will Greece break up into city-states once again?  Will Syria divide into Assad-controlled and international consortium-controlled sectors, leading to the creation of the next “Berlin Wall” and a lukewarm Cold War?

And, looking back 1000 years from now, will we say this next millennium was the era of extremophiles, our only encounter with “alien” or extraterrestrial lifeforms being a set of states of energy we were unable to see or comprehend with current technology in 2012 but wholly integrated into our way of life by 3011?

Questions, questions, questions.

The saga continues unabated.

Is any one life more important than maintenance of the status quo to preserve a subculture’s place in the jigsaw puzzle of global belief sets?

Yes and no.

At least according to one simulation after the next.

Every life is important.

Every life is canceled out at one level or another of scenario stacking.

One relationship disappears and another takes its place.

Interdependencies described in the world’s longest SQL statement.

All just to say what is the smallest number of balloons to take an indescribable payload into outer space.

Outer space is infinitely bigger than the sphere from which we calculate its intersection with us.

A finite sphere full of everyday drama begging for attention 24/7.

Time’s a-wastin’!

Fever, Either, Or, Favour

He looked at the thermometer sticking out of his mouth.  The digital display read 37.6 deg Celsius.

Low-grade, at least.

His ears throbbed.

Was this sufficient reason (or excuse) to visit the infirmary?

Two more weeks of training…he didn’t want a negative mark on his progress report.

A fellow trainee, Rogemme, walked up.

“So, you going for the ejection seat, are you?”

Lee shook his head.  “No, but my head feels like it’s floating on its own.”

“Everyone seems to have what you’ve got.  Think it’s what they say, a conspiracy to close down the training center?”

“You haven’t got it, have you?”

“Nope.”

“Then not everyone has it, have they?”

“Well, if it’s just me here, it wouldn’t be much of a graduating class now, would it?”

Rogemme laughed and walked away, shaking her head.

Lee stood up and felt his ears ringing like live electrical wires arcing or fluorescent lamp ballasts buzzing.

So everyone’s got this same thing…

He picked up his open copy of “Hidden Economic Subtrends Revealed by Supercomputer Algorithms” and read two pages.

He read them again.

He read them a third time but couldn’t seem to get the words, ideas or images invoked by the words to stick to his thoughts.

Was it the low-grade fever or something else that prevented his normal meditative state of learning to evade him?

He put the e-book down, leaving the book open for anyone else to read, including those in the class who hadn’t paid their dues and weren’t allowed to read other copies for free, a prime condition of Economic History Warehouse Keepers, Private Second Class, to maintain their rank.

He pressed a button on his earlobe that had been implanted to look like an earring but actually operated a wireless control system embedded alongside his left ear canal.

He rotated his finger around the edge of the button until he found the same place in the audible book where he had been reading “Hidden Economic Subtrends Revealed by Supercomputer Algorithms,” hoping that by listening to someone reading the book and explaining through a series of footnotes he’d paid extra to get, he’d penetrate the cushiony pillow exteriour that seemed to block his thoughts from learning class material in the moment solely by running his eyes over the written text.

As a sentient supercomputer algorithm taking the familiar form of a member of the species Homo sapiens, Lee had responsibilities, including this unknown infection, to add to his regular computational duties.

He’d excelled at hormone level modification, removing all unnecessary emotional outbursts usually associated someone of his rank.

At first, the lecturers reported his emotional control as an anomaly, sending him many times for medical examinations that found nothing more than the post-autism syndrome that previous generations of his type had helped “real” members of the species to apply gene therapy and foetal DNA reconfiguration to overcome the worst inarticulate aspects of autism.

Some classmates called him cold and calculating, both an insult and compliment at the same time.

He, however, ignored their taunts, his algorithmic tendencies giving him a larger view of life than the immediacy that sweaty bodies and physical alterations tended to drive mob mentality to its worst-case scenario outputs.

In his spare moments, he had studied the history of the “real” people, noting how they talked about subcultures and job classifications that seemed little different than the categories he and fellow algorithms had been assigned at initial creation.

Lee felt liquid on his upper lip and decided that watery mucus pouring out of his nose was an inconvenience but the overall conditions of the infection warranted a visit to the infirmary, after all.  He did not have access to online material that would have told him whether an elevated body temperature or range of temperatures would adversely affect other circuitry concealed on his body for experimental purposes only.

He knew he was really the same as the “real” people but he also knew he was a special prototype created from special molecular combinations meant to determine if DNA that had given rise to the biological diversity of Earth was only one of many possible atomic-level conditions for life.

By training him and his pals in a sequestered training class, the lecturers and those for whom they honed the classmates’ algorithm/subroutine repetitive output would assure themselves that graduating members awarded Economic History Warehouse Keepers, Private Second Class, would never want to leave their assignments for fear that unseen authorities would confuse the graduates with “real” people whose outputs were normally predictable but more often given to mob mentality than they.

As Lee absorbed the book’s spoken words which told him why living algorithms like him were destined for a higher purpose because their output revealed hidden meaning, he walked toward the infirmary, wiping his nose on his sleeve which shimmered slightly because the nasal liquid provided a short circuit across the fibers of his shirt, itself a living subroutine that resembled clothing.

The shirt sent a message on to the infirmary that it would need to be changed — its memory transferred to Lee’s next new shirt, then erased — and laundered as soon as possible to prevent staining, after the infectious organisms had been removed and sent for analysis.

A Working Day in Paradise

Patching holes in the cabin roof today.  Talk to you tomorrow.

Have a great day, starting with a great day in the mornin’!

Three data points to keep you occupied:

A song to take you into the evening….