Saturday, April 21, 2012

Pickups, Bedrooms, Pie, and Moon

Pickups, Bedrooms, Pie, and Moon

L. Edgar Otto 21 April, 2012


These are hopscotch terms as well in the inevitable entropy of a conversation slang idioms checking out hook ups that seems to ground replication.


As a child explores his world and develops, for seeing in himself before the crystallizing focus of what he may become, so much the physical games of exercise that can contribute to the health of his further states, the coherence extended beyond some potential ground for intelligence and longivity we learn too the ten or twelve counting numbers.


We can hop on one leg. Aim for our messages and stones into public, private, and universal divisions of the world to arrive to the highest point in a moral game of snakes and ladders, there to end or exit the game after the long journey where we often have to jump ahead or begin again in some chain that takes its chances partly on some path and the same old song of reels and dose-dos square dancing, changing partners so in comedy or tragedy find more or less than what we are.
I begin to think all things can be better organized into the pictures only in the programs of the real and virtual worlds yet in the rests between heart beats, the world not synchronized save in a few petrie dishes immortal and apart from the whole, but this vision has not crystallized as I jump from room to room in fits or start or cursive paths in formulas.


I download a photo of the simulation of matter and dark matter and often make it my desktop greeting trying to fill all the space, and not in war, partisan, in my own mind, not struggling with the terrain of the minds of others as if a war those closest to my species the strongest of such stimulus and response and hidden things in calms of storms on seas of which in the learning we try to hold on to as science.


But one picture by itself cannot hold my attention for long, nor love if we have been burned by it whether the betrayal of the moment, some cosmic loss that interrupts the game, or that drawn on the ground itself, formulas by the sea shore in the churning of the atoms by the tides and drifting continents. Yet, our first ideals beyond the lust that starts love for my Sailor Moon she at once to reach some goal or ideal be my all while we cannot be each others all, perfection of some distant heaven, Crystal Tokyo where all things come out equifinally in the end despite our hopeful struggles, we in love with symbols, cartoons and wooden puppets perhaps, my first love Princess Summer Fall Winter Spring - oh you may not know her from the Howdy Doody show.


You with natural inborn doubts must know my love would never betray our bonds while that within us could be the arsenal of anyone in the games of love and war who do not know their limits, untested souls who hide away from watching eyes imagined in our leaf and snow covered gardens, castles and motes, truces respecting all living things at least in our consciousness their need for sleep while in the imagined threats of end times or natural disasters we survive in stealth profiled as a threat to the living links and access of the state beyond its control of life and death the schools and prisons, bus lines, airwaves and telephone wires, pipes of gas and water, diminishing returns taking all the work in looping egos riding an avalanche or bruised and cut reach for the nearest limb to slow their free fall off the mountain tops, that are all and nothing souls that punch and yell out while they lute the dream of the heavenly city.


For some things are not recorded in the early days of television and some great films even are lost, these classics are only nostalgic to a generation before it turns to junk that crowds our landfills, causes names on tombstones to be forgotten where all is left is the forest lawn with chemicals of rituals of certainty our ghosts move on as if immortal and flowers do not whither and die their value as ephemeral, the lawn that is so full of mercury and agent orange those who live near them fear for their children's health. So too fades the blue of flags for veterans to sepia and rags its nameless stars.


Someone, once in the game having already won the great lotteries of evolution struck over and over again by lightning, has to eventually win and jump to another state far ahead of his generation and its balances or oppressions by the laws before the water cupped in his hands seeks back to its own level through his fingers as he quinces his long missed thirst for awhile. Or to make things real, acceptance at the end, lost in the desert without water, the struggle at the bottom built in - only the rise again is the danger when our memories return more how the fall was painful more than the promise of a better life and world- then, all left in our message and recording is to write on our pages with our blood.


I see in the picture of the matter and the stars a pattern that I perhaps just imagine yet it does recur as striking as the awakening from a dream many times to inhale sitting up the ether falling into sleep long enough that as I begin to fall again I am startled to awaken, the flicker of the night and the light so fast the colors reverse and my orientation in the world before it can become grounded again in its anti-gravity.


The paths and brightly colored stars or galaxies in the simulated slice of coherence and spacetime suggests and reminds me of pictures of the nerves in our bains at some stage of development or focus. But it seems slightly less organized in the spacious moment. But what is dark matter then but two ways to see the world and possibly the organization of our awareness self and of the world but our watching ourselves in a dream or some overview of ourselves in a dream? Are not the nerve cells so specialized that there are two such systems, two distinguished substances really one that does the communication between nerves or monitors them from an overview?


These faculties of our mind from whichever way we choose to think that the other side is but chaotic confabulation of the deluded and unsound does remind me of the abstractions we face as given or some future solid facts the anomaly of dark matter- dare we leap to the interpretations that there is more here to the scope of sentience than some debate our myths or realities of consciousness is part of the quantum world- we have these forms of matter and dark matter in our dreams and minds- and therein lies what we may do to show how in this world our telescopes and microscopes and razzle dazzles camouflage of real and conceptual invisibility is the greater debate that shows new directions or proves some probes as well as thought experiments still far and remote from us as in the understanding our life and world and dreams are accepted with imaginations closed.


Yet, to the extent this picture evolves to an intelligible form perhaps the patterns and the intuition of such geometrical and mathematical analogies of mind and universe, our own artificiality or that it has higher purpose and forms as if awake, the truth of our first intuitions and impressions as all the theories meet somewhere and merge, exchange meaningful information in the sequences and jumps and sweat of the square dance in and over our dreams or deep in the convergence and confluence of the chromosomes, the possibility of the truths of this, the reality, may become ever more clear.


* * * * * * *


Part of the Occasion of this paper was the discussion by Lubos on certain aspects of quantum formulas in a debate with Hossenfelder , having encountered her I think by accident on facebook I asked her what was the issue of theory here other than Lubos strong stances. She said she did not read Lubos. OK, I do not mean to intrude. My conclusion was that Hossenfelder and Penrose were closer to the truth of things. Among the bloggers in my compass it seems like they read and comment on each others posts- it seems that way to me when Lubos says it may come as a shock that the Higgs represents something else- a higher particle. Well if he reads my posts and all is not just synchronicity, he will see it comes as no shock to me for the conceptions involved. Kudos to Lubos for his adaptable stances as "if he could be wrong" on some issue. The Hopscotch metaphor is the observation in the post on his challenge to Hossenfelder position I noted it was as if a very old debate on the nature of things on the quantum level sort of out dated as string theory was not mentioned- issues of consciousness interpretations on that level in particular. I find it of interest Hossenfelder imagines thought experiments that may not reach conclusions as possible any more than some limit to our probing of things in experiments (of which Lubos had and earlier post on that informative issue too- again no surprise from my view. So the whole issue of collapsing to a classical system and now the issue of the collapse (which yes Lubos does argue for higher dimensions)is now from there the collapse into quantum spaces as the bypassed ground of physics. This goes very deep when one things that we ever can have one sort of geometry and the Euclidean one is now obsolete- again the logic of them stands and falls together and it is a failed thought experiment to insist on a grounding of such reductionist ideology otherwise if we thought this was the only right view of things. My position is outside of the actual doers of physics and I speak for none of them and am inspired by their work what it is.


Thus, I tried in this post to present things more as interesting writing as an exercise than overly technical. The hopscotch metaphor is of course of the ten, eleven, and twelve dimensions involved in some of the current theories as if compatification and so on. Perhaps, again, my outside views being similar in the conclusions is confirmation from a rational viewpoint if I am not reading your minds or just a dreamer. In the above writing there are references and connections unclear like the PBS radio show that reviewed a book on people lost in the desert tending to write diary's with their blood. Or let us not forget the Howdy Doody show Claribel who became Captain Kangaroo for a generation and now that era long past. I must say though that if there is anything expert in my science interest and wisdom it was ahead of the game because of the circumstances after the world war and the encouragement of the state, or at least its promise, for the role of science. The state who does not undertake massive projects and consideration of theory as science risks its reality and survival at its own peril as perhaps this double measure of chaotic ignorance can do for us all, that is our second physics as such a measure, the quantum theory.


Lubos on Extra Dimensions


Schrödinger meets Newton

Thought Experiment Impossible?


Lubos on Newton and the Quantum Cat

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