Saturday, November 6, 2010

Through the Faraway Pipe

Through the Faraway Pipe (Kepler and the Tri-cornered Hat) L. Edgar Otto 11-06-10

We gaze into the shiny brass pipe held to the sky but its walls are not blackened. What we see are rings of light, a pulse, a wave, some note of some wind with overtones through an organ.

Is it really absurd, the young man opposed to global warming, that heat can arise from the nothingness? How then its it that we find the surface of black holes the return of ideas of heat again when there seems no such chemical notion in the particles of the microworld? In this last century dominated by Jewish science we still debate the static role of the concept of God the Creator. Thus science has become blind to further progress not contained of any hint of such a transcendent being and cry blasphemy to those who would look within these eaters of entropy.

Even when things move in such an indefinite space and not beyond the simplicity of time and a sphere- a falling favoring gravity and not the eye of God, the assumption by Descartes and Holy Newton that a God somehow sets the spheres in motion that the world can be known and make sense and in the spirit of ancient Hellas its depths seen. Even then in such turns and twists of motion the interval closes on itself, the flame in the tent a flower as if universes falling as anchor rings from an anchor ring- that we are even in the vanished desert beyond the body or soul of a specially centered tribal God who intercedes or walks away from his call for motion.

Yet from a secular view the issue in our generation seems to be the debate as to what of space and geometry itself trumps some ideas of the physics of things- especially the quantum and string theories. Certainly, Feynman in his notation understood the depths of such geometry as at least background more than just numbers as the powers of two in his diagrams.

That the model of the solar system as if an atom has haunting similarities to which physics has to progress more as if it is an analogy to a nucleus of an atom. Thus we have the other sorts of quantum theories. For those who doubt the face and limits of geometry as primary, even of fixed hidden dimensions, that part of Kepler where he surrounded the orbits of the planets with the Platonic solids also makes little sense and that much of Kepler's work thought mystical and not properly scientific. Certainly Tycho Brae with his detail contributed as Kepler unto Newton, but who agrees with him the earth the center and all other planets go around the sun? That is not a bad compromise when you really try to sort out background of relative motion- a matter of taste really. This is not to say what the observed facts can show us about what is a local or general laws in the universe- whom or not is specially created - and yet is the analog to the surface sea of the earth not to the higher sphere of Einstein's finite but boundless universe? Or if we choose have to deal with the hyperbolic of growth beyond the universe now known a flatland? It is absurd for only the young students of science the old saw- they thought the earth flat once or for the mystical who usurp even the idea our earth is hollow in some sense. Science strives for unbiased wisdom and asks as a second philosophy the why of things if anyone knows to ask, question hidden depths yet weigh them in reality.

Consider then the universe made of time's clear waters of light from the foundry of creation, the optics as if virtually infinity in a room of walls and ceiling, even the floor made of mirrors (Einstein considered such motions in spheres of space as if the rules of starlight shift were different in the depths of the sun itself.) What would we see in the million copies of the candle light if it the center it were moving? (and this simple model and physical experiment just begins to describe the depths of quasic space). Certainly some sort of up and down and yet the candlestick in free fall may point every way toward this in the natural depths and span of dimensions.

Also there is a certain idea of freedom here in the motion, the Heraclitean perpetual motion that too an extreme of comprehension applied to spacetime. For we do not have rigid solids alone and explicit forms of laws but some leeway in the accidental history of planet creation and formation as cloudy gas and frozen matter. That is we have a variety of solar systems and that variety has differences as well as universal similarities, especially of the elements of which they are made.

Yet, those who would scoff as such an older view how do you explain Bode's law- some intelligible artifact and coincidence of arithmetic? Which products of genius are you free to pick an choose?

This is not to say we can encase the solar system in only the hyperspheres and the rings around the planets and the asteroid belts- the planets 8 created in pairs. (I have not looked at this concept for two score years and there is a lot more known for even more in the idea of higher dimensions.) But he who divined the need for solid space to come closer in the calculations, and saw the beauty of the golden dice (after all the golden ratio is the key distance in four space) who made the step of his planetary motion ellipse laws- also saw the beauty and science in the symmetry of the tri-cornered snowflake- unlimited and recurrent yet different in the detail in time while the will and force of life needs not be closed only nor dissipate into the almost living technium applied of evolution. To refine such a theory if the paths are shown still open is to understand not just the interference rings thru our pipe dreams made of refined shinny brass- but depths beyond our present ken in the heart of stars and atoms themselves for an even greater unity we may find and even design in our physics.

* * * Also this poem from last night some things on my mind- nothing really deep otherwise in the physics and philosophy. This one has parallels to the state of our economy current world politics and that military era in Brazil after 1964.

If you long English speakers desire, I would like to know how well this poem out of the blue is understood- both the words and references. Any idea what it may be about?

My Socialist Sweetheart L. Edgar Otto

Why did I love Mary?

What did I see in her?

Why did I throw red pain with her

On the ladies at the ball wearing fox fur?

We danced all night in the perish of St. Paul

Sang homesick hymns to the poor in Portugal

What a thrill we dancing goats, dosidos, Virginia reels

Drinking Star-reals on the ha'penny playing sheav-groats'

Housewives in the coffee war with Brazil

Those ninny's not getting any with breakfast in high heels

After dreams of fallout and the Argentine umbrella

Shame them into human rights national and nuclear

Priests and generals skipping ranks, Obama's sambas

I some Garibaldi and his shadow tanks, her vigilante cowboys in Amazonas.

* * *

Of course my point has been that the geometric and the ideas of algebraic motion in all its fundamental forms, and even the sub-branches of math and physics such as that we learn from fractal patterns in chaoscience- even the notions of probability, all contribute to part of the picture of what we can see, can imagine intelligibly (and make no mistake quantum theory is quite intelligible) for our presently paradoxical desire for the omnium or a theory of everything, vaguely sensed as if even the old religious metaphor in various theoreticians on the frontier of enquiry.

A non-necessity view as part of reality, the possibility of creative and original discovery, has at its heart what seems a contradiction- the necessary in it is not forbidden. The frontier is the indistinguishable to which our distinctions and indiscernible may in a wider generalization be discernible and distinguishable- but the way to do this in the perplexities of time is not always shown the only theory that achieves intelligibility.

Einstein was said to remark that economics was harder than physics. Certainly s in our day the issue has defied methods of analyzes and it is not clear in the theories offered as to why. We seem to deal with politics and economics in the ways of the last century and the delay of such general growth of wealth in new third world regions seems to rely [birds] on ideology refined and applied- for example the military order of Brazil from 64 to 85 and now the fourth largest economic power returned to democracy. Is it inevitable in hard times with faith in some ideas as to what our collective and individual lives ought to be- that these are but a cycle that limits us in the motion, a finite thing of wealth and lifespan that tends to understand things by the otherworldly or react against the fear of lawlessness? Our philosophy's and religious metaphors apply and as core values it is the immersion in them that holds us back to cures and solutions and peaceful abundance restrained only by the intelligibility of sensible growth and order. Or we can know our place in a finite and boundless conception of the universe which tries in the world of motion up from Zeno's paradox and the Platonic sphere to find the wave again returned amplified or vanished in the pendulum others the Russian dolls in dolls or state boundaries regardless if economics is better ruled yet feeds the need for a republic of united national security states. That left to their own the poor or the leaders know their place and life the common denominator a tool this time around to force trade and compromise with vigilante for good or ill and in stealth the wealth and plans of the state their paper gold and rumors made in terror.

There are other metaphors for the grounding of physics, metaphysics, and stereonometry between our species full of wisdom. From the linguistic view part of the resolution and conflict- the change from a living to the skeleton of a root word so transcended if compound in the plural, an added affix such as "s" for the plural be it our conception of many gods or one to worship, one universe or many, e pluribus unum...The Hindu and the Buddhists, and Tao.

From time to time I look at the birds in fight and flights in freedom. I wonder what they are on-about, why other than the basal core of instinct they stay on their level, branes in limitations, unaware of the general climate, songs and squabbles as if each their separate race greater for the conflict, the vanished imperialists and Empires far from noticing the fiefs, Newton and Leibniz over priority in discoveries that is the game if science survives the election to serve all the people. Freedom perhaps the hardest thing as to what to do- for the city is there, an empty thing really without its denizens and age spots of invasive species, in its desert the great adapting of the feral cats and rats and roaches, pigeons and sparrows, hiding unseen from the authorities in the main and with numbers, street scavengers perchance to seek warmth under the castles of Wall Street in the snowy winter above the exhaust grates of the subway, or the ubiquitous oil drums for the roasting of pigeons.

We walk and have a role in the awakening of the city at dawn and make legitimate our choices, who cares who has who or helps who as long as we are left alone to live and let live- feel like strangers in the glaring light of remote hallways that detours us by its brightness as if anyone cares we pass as students, wash ourselves in the university libraries but never sleep in public if we don't want attention or have our jackets pilfered. I look down from the skyscraper and the cars that really seem to go back and forth to nowhere, renewable the corn and cane sugar. Or the people walk at night to the play and water holes and football amphitheaters- it is a whole different city and one finds a niche, one finds a fashion, one lives long enough to break all laws save that the shouting buildings spawn and charges toll and woe to he who does not keep walking free to do so unencumbered on its sidewalks.

Patience is too costly and violence costs it all- but I have waited and not all things have come to me- nor the simple reaching out to find them. I have not failed at freedom although its dice loaded that I fail in responsibility or pass that failure on. I have learned as well although time is never of the essence and one should not fret over what is past more than the now and future- that I am wounded in the faith that on some road to someplace that may as well be in outer space that eventually a ride will come along as I offer my thumb. If it does not come I am comforted at what's the point, October 1st too late, the vanishing of sanity shown up behind their bureaucratic and so not fearful masks- of their value and even veto.

Yet I am far above resentment as I stand with myself- even knowing the bastards know me wall that I would opt to walk away as much revenge, monk shunning violence- even while my tormentors in the street consume without punishment the state and get away with murder.

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