This Isn't Quantum Physics. Wait. It Actually Is. OK, Maybe Not Really...

I don't know why I sometimes feel inclined to take decent, working, knowledgeable scientists to task, but there could be something Freudian there. Y'know: we don't really know ourselves, and we don't know what motivates us to do the things we do. Of course, that doesn't really explain much, does it? And perhaps claiming that "...really everything is quantum physics" doesn't explain much either or maybe it's simply a mistaken point of view to take.

I mean, it seems to me here's an example of mistaking the map for the territory. Sure, yeah, it seems that, when observed in a suiting manner, the universe and all the stuff in it is "... all happening by the interactions of tiny particles," which also happen to sometimes be waves (again, seemingly dependent upon the mode of observation)--a result which, in part, led to the development of Quantum Theory. Yet, "...the rules of quantum mechanics" are the (current) map by which we assess, experiment with, and otherwise observe the going-ons of the stuff in the universe in its seemingly "fundamental (by which we seem to actually mean "smallest scale")" expression. In other words, the interactions of the stuff of the universe--currently observed at very small scales as "tiny particles" and waves--is the territory and Quantum Mechanics is the map. And it's likely a "category error" to say that the interactions of the stuff of the universe are identical to Quantum Mechanics: they are not the same thing. One is a bunch of stuff, the other is a bunch of symbols: territory and map.

For a long time--maybe around two-thousand years--many of the people inclined to study such things thought that Aristotelian physics could explain most (or maybe some thought all) of the stuff of existence. Of course, a few people came along and ended up knocking all that down, and what ended up in its place was Newtonian physics. And maybe some people thought that Newtonian physics could or would explain most or all the stuff of existence. And of course they were mistaken since Quantum physics came along and supplanted the Newtonian version of physics. And no, they are not the same thing.

So, maybe once upon a time some people thought that everything was explainable by Aristotelian physics, and we know now that they were wrong. And then once upon a different time it's likely that some other people thought that everything was explainable by Newtonian physics. Well, we know now that they were wrong too. Now it so happens that currently there seems to be some people who feel like everything is explainable by Quantum physics (or some slight modification of it--gravity being the main trouble-maker here), and we know now that they are...?

History repeats itself, (ad infinitum) as some say, and I'm willing to wager everything I own (although myself and any takers on the bet may not be alive to collect the payoff) that some day something else--some other theory--will explain, well, some things anyway. Because, let's be realistic here, when we ask, "[w]hat is not quantum physics," well, there's a whole slew of things that aren't. And many of those things--at least seemingly so--can be collected under the general heading known as Qualia.

For instance, Quantum physics has nothing at all to say about my taste of, for example, chocolate--let alone whether or not my taste of chocolate is identical to yours. And what's Quantum physics got to say about my like or dislike of Tarantino films: it certainly won't predict if I like his next one or not. And y'know those days where you simply feel like pulling the covers back over your head and staying in bed (well, I know those days, anyway)? I don't think Quantum physics has much to say about that either.

Hossenfelder writes, "[i]f it wasn’t for Pauli’s exclusion principle, you’d fall right through the ground."

Y'know, I don't recall learning about anyone ever having a problem with falling through the ground before Pauli formulated the exclusion principle, but maybe that's a result of some sort of historical revisionism covering up some grand conspiracy or other? I mean, what if people used to fall right through a flat earth or something? But I digress...

Now I can't speak for Hossenfelder's point of view in general (not really knowing her personally or anything), but this particular article appears to reflect a kind of scientific reductionism that I find distasteful, and I suppose that neither Quantum physics nor Freudian psychology are going to explain that particular aversion. Perhaps this hostility towards scientific reductionism--at least in some self-reflective and (semi) self-conscious sort of manner--goes some way to informing my apparent compulsion to take decent, working, knowledgeable scientists to task.

Shrug. I dunno'.

Science is cool, science is fascinating, science is a worthwhile human endeavour and has clearly aided the human race (yet also helped our seemingly insatiable appetite for self/other destruction as well...yet that's not science's fault--or is it? Perhaps if we hold that everything is quantum physics, then, yes, maybe science can be held morally accountable for all the atrocities it's helped to create...oh, sorry, again, my tendency to sometimes digress). But, at least currently, science isn't everything--can't explain everything, at any rate. And when it comes down to the fine grained details none of the stuff of existence is science. Science seems to be a method which produces a body of knowledge: together these inform investigations over a specific and limited range of human-based experiences.

Maybe one day science can and will explain everything there is to human experiences, but I guarantee that from our current position in the timeline we would not understand whatever that will be as science: its theories would likely seem to us as gibberish and its results as some form of sorcery. As it currently stands with or without Quantum--or any other formulation of physics--there are still milkshakes, weight loss, basketball, and Noam Chomsky. Sorry, Sabine.

E = mc^2

In my less than scientifically rigourous and not necessarily physical formulation of a particular variation on "Relativity Theory," well, the formula in the title can be interpreted as:

Entertainment = misanthropy (times) cynicism (squared).

With that in mind, I present unto you:

The Wall

or

The Philosopher King (For a Day)

If I had my way, I'd have all of ya' shot.

Now, I don't care what "race" ya' are, what the colour of yer skin is, or what yer appearance and features are in general: we're all human beings.

And I don't care what religion you practice (or not): we all have ways to make sense of the world, our place in it, and a means to create meaning from an otherwise seemingly meaningless existence.

And I don't care what you do to yerself: smoke pot; take drugs; drink; do yoga; eat only vegetables; drink too much coffee, man; or whatever else. We are each free--if indeed we are in any sense "free"--to make our own choices regarding our own particular lifestyles insofar as those choices effect (mostly) our own being (and here the qualification of "mostly" because simply through relating our lifestyle choices may effect others, but that is a whole 'nother "can of worms"--let's allow a degree of simplification here--for entertainment value--thanks).

And I don't care what yer sexual orientation is or what kinks you have: see above regarding "what you do to yerself." So long as what we are doing is consensual, well, everyone else can mind their own fucking business and stay the fuck out of another's undies (unless, of course, there's mutual consent there, then, go on, dive right in).

And I don't care what yer position is in the social hierarchy: good, decent people can be found within all the socially defined (however so) "castes."

What I do care about is how each and any of us relate to other people, and this can be often expressed specifically via our "profession," or "career choices," or "jobs" in general.

And I do, more or less, agree with Shakespeare:

Let's kill all the lawyers first.

But of course, we can't simply generalize over all the lawyers, 'cause at least some of them are going to be good, decent human beings who use their profession as a means to help and assist others, so:

Let's kill some but not all the lawyers first.

Get 'em up against the wall.

And then there's the politicians. Again, it's going to be some but not all.

'Gainst. The. Wall.

And some but not all religious leaders.

Get 'em up against the wall.

And some but not all (but probably most) bankers.

'Gainst. The. Wall

Actually, let's do the bankers second--right after the lawyers.

And the landlords: some but not all.

Get 'em up against the wall.

CEOs and other board members, well, most of you, I'd reckon:

'Gainst. The. Wall

War mongers, military chiefs of staff, generals, and people who command large groups of other people to kill yet other people:

Get 'em up against the wall.

My, it's getting pretty bloody in here, isn't it? The air is thick with the smell of gunpowder--let's make sure we are all wearing respirators--and I do hope you are all also wearing protective gear for yer ears.

And what are we gonna' do with all these corpses? I suppose incineration will be the most practical solution: fire up the furnaces, comrades!

I am sure I've left out some other general categories of people as defined by their professions. This is merely an initial sort of modest proposal and we can hash out the fine details as we incinerate the bodies, OK?

Now, the important part, obviously, is coming up with a fair and reasonable criteria that can--much more often than not--separate the "some" from the "all."

How do we do this? It is a tricky affair to be sure, and, well, we're likely gonna' have to break a few eggs, now and then, if we want to make an omelet. Sorry families and friends of the wrongly put down: we'll make sure you are well compensated by the redistribution of wealth this endeavour will certainly entail. Simply think of it in the same light as when you mash a mosquito that hasn't even bitten you yet: there'll always be more of them along that will bite you.

So, the criteria.

I say, as yer pretend philosopher king fer the day, we let people draw the line themselves and then wait for their own hypocrisy to make them cross it.

Yes, each of us is free to be as helpful or not helpful with regards to everyone else as we so chose, but when we take direct action and willfully engage in behaviours that harm others, well, that's gotta' be a strike against us, yes?

You want freedom of speech? You want freedom of thought? You want freedom to express yourself? Have it. Have it all. Stand on a soapbox in the market place and cry out your hate, your hardship, your pain, your frustration, and whatever else: I don't care.

Act on those same things in ways which harm others, well, that's gotta' be a strike.

Paint pictures, make movies, build monuments, write manifestos and tracts, create whatever you want: I don't care.

Take advantage of others via whatever means in order to exploit them, well that's a strike.

Three strikes?

Up against the wall.

It's simple, really: "treat others as you would have them treat yourself, and do not treat others as you would not have them treat yourself."

And, yes, that itself is likely too simple, but, hey, everything looks better on paper--even digital representations of paper--then it does when put into practice; regardless, this is all only entertainment anyway: I have little interest in cleaning up the mess--hypothetical or otherwise.

That said, let's start with the lawyers: get 'em up against the wall.

Always Forget

I was out at the local market to do some hunting and gathering--OK, mostly gathering--when I spied none other than Kurt Cobain on the cover of this month's Rolling Stone. Some story about little Frances Bean (who, I suppose, ain't that little no more) trying to find her long dead father, whatever that is supposed to mean. I reckon you can just listen to his records, Frances, he seemed to put a lot of himself into them, or so it seems to me.

"Ah yes," I thought to myself, "it is that month, isn't it?"

I always forget the day and I came home to look it up and the anniversary of your death was on April 5th and that was--can you believe it--twenty-one years ago. Wow. I remember when that Nevermind record was the shit. Spoke to and for a whole generation of slackers and Gen Xers and post-punk lost souls wandering in the wasteland of a confusing, unfriendly, and uncaring modern society of idiot fucktards. What's changed, really?

Grunge the media called it. And it invaded the airwaves and help transform the idiot jock fucks into "alternative" cool folks ("he's the one who likes all our pretty songs, and he likes to sing along, but he knows not what it means"--oh the sarcastic irony of it all, Kurt), and brought the hip subculture--or some faction of a hip subculture, anyway--into the pop culture, and the rest is a tragic sort of history. Spawned a shitload of shitty fuckin' bands that sound like Theory of a Dead Nickel Creed.

And I hate that band. Well, "hate" is a pretty strong word. I guess I'd simply be much happier--or, perhaps better, wouldn't have to be bothered to care at all--if they all died in a tragic bus crash or something. Maybe all the masters and copies of all their songs could simply vanish from the face of the Earth along with them. All those bands that are that band--y'know what I mean.

You know, Kurt, that record isn't even all that good. I mean, I happened to put it on the other month and, having not heard it in years, well, it simply didn't do it for me anymore. Sure, there's still some good songs on it, yeah, but it doesn't have the same rawness of Bleach, say, and it certainly lacks the maturity of In Utero, and it's just not as fun as some of the tracks on Incesticide. And like I've ever bothered to listen to the "unplugged album" because, really, what's the fuckin' point? So, in this humble listener's opinion, well, Nevermind is the worst Nirvana album. But it does have few songs that were still pretty good to hear. Well, maybe it is less that it's not a good record and maybe it's more that it was a record that needed the historical context to make it as great as it was for a time. Still the worst of the bunch, if you ask me though.

Maybe Courtney had ya' killed, as some people still figure, or maybe you really did kill yourself, or maybe you wanted to kill yourself but were too scared to end it by your own hand--a lot of people with suicidal ideations are: it is a pretty difficult step to actually take, after all--and you hired someone else to do it for you and maybe some of these people actually know this to be true.

Who knows? I mean, I sure don't, anyway. And I reckon perhaps like the assassination of, say, JFK or like the actual events of 9/11, well, most of us will simply never learn the truth of the matter and the truth will fade into mythology over time. To quote a different Kurt, also no longer with us, who also died in April, and also tragically--but with much less mystery--"and so it goes."

And so you're gone now, and have been for twenty-one years. Crazy. And almost every year I forget that April is the month that marks the anniversary of your death. And every year it simply doesn't seem to matter, anyway, if I remember you or not. And maybe that's what you'd prefer, really. "Oh well, whatever, never mind."

But this year, thanks to a cursory glance across the magazine rack at the local market, well, here's a little tribute to you, Kurt. All in all is, indeed, all we all are. And if that's the case, then we'll see you again in the Western Lands.

Because

Because posting to a G+ stream seems necessarily flowing, as in we're not stepping into the same river for long, and the constituents of that river are here and gone and with pace that reflects the same race that many of us find ourselves trying to run within the terms of the modern world, well, I thought I'd slow it down a little.

Because while a blog is also somewhat dynamic, as in the overall blog will shape itself into a form as a function of time, energy, and content, it is necessarily a more static entity when compared to the streaming waterfalls of other forms of social media. What is here is present and accessible immediately in a way that streaming posts on our G+ accounts are not quite able to capture.

Because here, in this particular blog, is a collection which in some ways forms not only a self, but also informs this particular self, and in so doing has the potential to inform some set of possible others.

Because it is all too easy, sometimes, in life to get knocked down and forget that we can also get back up.

Because we are only ever down for the count when Thanatos has come and collected us, and, really, even then, who knows for sure?

Because I've been knocked down, as I am sure many others have, perhaps all others, and sometimes forgotten that I can get back up.

Because even if I don't agree with some of the other thoughts of the man regarding some of the other things he turned his thoughts towards, I can still recognize, yes, even taste, the wisdom in the words:

If you're going through hell, keep going.

Because sometimes this world is all too obviously that same hell, and wherever we go, well, there we are, as some say, anyway; this is to say, we'll always be where we are in the world and if the world seems like hell, well, there we are.

Because being down is not the same as being out. And sure as hell sometimes it is difficult to keep this distinction in mind.

Because sometimes, no matter what others tell us, say to us, present to us, and/or try to get us to see, well, we can lead a horse to water, but if that water's current seems too strong or seems like the waters run too deep, then that horse isn't going to cross at that particular point.

Because the horse will only cross the water when it comes to understand for itself that it feels safe to ford the passage.

Because the passage is always there, but sometimes we are too down to see it.

Because when you post to G+, and since Google owns both G+ and Youtube, somehow it has come about that including a video in a post necessarily entails a comment on the video as it occurs in the context of Youtube that is in fact the whole of the associated G+ post.

Because sometimes I simply want to post a video and write whatever the hell I want and not necessarily have it also become a Youtube video comment.

Because I am not aware, if there is such thing, of anyway to prevent this from happening other than not to associate some G+ post with a video from Youtube by not posting a video from Youtube on G+, and this also goes for leaving comments on G+ posts that others have posted which also include a video from Youtube.

Because what I am writing towards and have also included in some of the above is about being able to get back up when we are down, to gather the courage, the hope, the force of will, to ride again, to ford that river, to keep going through hell.

Because I have been using a certain set of memories, and this from here and now might be construed as some sense of nostalgia, but it's not quite that.

Because I have no real desire to go back to the before, but much more a desire to bring some of the before into now.

Because those memories, those positive experiences from my past, were a fuel to certain sort of engine of change as those experiences were occurring then.

Because I find myself needing fuel for that engine so it can once again drive me forward, carry me through whatever heaven or hell my mind may construe in the moment.

Because the output of Beastie Boys were once an element of that fuel.

Because you can't, you won't, and you don't stop.

Threat Level

A little while ago I was watching the news with my mother. Of course, as there has so often been lately, there was some piece on the IS or ISIS. You know, those fanatics running around in Iraq and Syria taking over cities, killing, looting, maiming, and being generally all around unpleasant people. And, perhaps like many people over on this side of the world, and, I suppose, in other parts of the world as well, my mother has some degree of concern about this group of so-called "terrorists" and the level of the immanent threat to our lives.

This, of course, has spawned a few interesting conversations between my mother and I.

Now, I'm not going to say that these people aren't terrorists, but I am going to say that the word "terrorist" frequently seems to be levelled by those on one side of some conflict or other against those on the other side of this same conflict. The enemies are the terrorists and the good guys are the freedom fighters. That seems to pretty much be the overall generic formula to the story--whichever story.

Of course, it gets a bit more complicated to sort out who is really the enemy and the good guy when it comes to the Middle East and its seemingly ongoing plethora of conflicts. There's a whole socio-political-economic stew going on with the nations and groups involved and it has been cooking so long now that it all merely tastes brown to me. So, none of that is really what I wanted to discuss here.

Oh yes, the conversation between my mother and I about the level of threat that the IS, or, really, terrorists in general, realistically have on our lives here on Vancouver Island, or, for that matter, on the rest of Canada or even the United States. I was hoping to assuage her fears a bit, so I simply asked her:

"Mom, since that terrible 9-11 event, how many people have been killed by terrorists (because it is, in some ways, the idea that terrorists are going to kill her--like they beheaded those other people, say--that scares her) here in Canada or even the US?"

And I didn't even go into (and won't here either) anything about 9-11 and the whole "official story". Was it official? Yes, it was official. Was it a story, well, there's very little room for doubt about that! But I wouldn't claim to know the actual story. Wait, I said I wasn't going to go into that...

OK, so, anyway, I don't know what the official numbers are of people who have been killed by bona fide terrorists here in Canada or the United States. I'm not even sure if such information is publicly available. I am fairly confident about one thing, though, that it's a pretty low number. Like less than a hundred type of low. Maybe less than ten type of low. *shrugs*

So, I asked my Mom how many people she figured were killed by automobiles here in Canada and/or the US since 9-11. She said she didn't know. Hell, I didn't know either--and still don't (related: 12, 516 people have died in automobile related incidents in Canada from 2006 to 2010--thanks internet!)--but the point really is that, obviously, the number of deaths caused by vehicles is much, much higher than the number of deaths caused by terrorists, I mean, as far as we are talking domestically here, you know, the "homeland".

Nobody calls automobiles "terrorists" or, really, thinks there's any sort of significant threat level associated with them. You don't see nightly news stories about the threat levels of daily driving. Sure, there is the occasional report on the local news about a local fatal car crash, yes, and perhaps every now and then a particularly bothersome multi-vehicular incident somewhere else might make a less than local news story, but automobiles in their hazards to the population do not enjoy the same amount of coverage as the terrorists du jour; yet, the act of daily driving poses a much more significant threat to any particular citizen's life, here in Canada, than does some thirty-odd thousand people behaving badly thousands and thousands of kilometres away (over ten thousand of them, apparently).

Further, I asked her, how many people are killed each year, again, here in Canada or in the US, by the police? Again, I didn't have a number and neither did she, but she could easily realize that the number of people killed by the police since 9-11 is likely larger than number of people killed by terrorists, Again, we are talking domestically.

(A quick Google search revealed little in the way of quality info, and I can't be bothered to find actual numbers. Some sources throw around that over 5, 000 people have been killed in the US by their police since 9-11. Google at your own leisure and make your own assessment!)

Now, as to whether or not the police can be considered "terrorists," well, that might go back to the formula of which side of a conflict is doing the defining. Regardless, most people would not label the police as "terrorists" and many people are under the impression that the police are here to "protect and serve" (who they are actually protecting and serving seems to become a less distinct and more controversial issue, but I digress…) and are, in general, not a threat to the population.

However, if we take the numbers and look at them statistically, it becomes quite clear that if you live in the US or Canada (and I'm sure some other countries too, but those two countries are the ongoing examples of this piece) you are much more likely to be killed by an automobile or a police officer as compared to being killed by a terrorist.

Now, this is not to say that terrorists--whoever we might define them to be--pose no threat to people or to dismiss the need to figure out a way to squelch terrorism in whatever form it takes. Hardly. No, this is about the perceived level of threat, or perhaps even the encouraged perceived level of threat, versus the actual level of threat.

I'm sorry, Mom, but you're much more likely to die in a myriad of other ways than you are at the hands of any terrorist. Quit letting the news scare you. Don't believe the hype.

Caring Less: Could or Couldn't

I can be a bit of a stickler about language sometimes. We use language to convey thoughts and feelings, opinions and meanings, and I tend to feel that if we want to express ourselves through language and also want the language we use to adequately convey what we mean, then it is best for us to use language correctly or at least appropriately in order to accomplish this.

One of my pet peeves about language use revolves around 'caring' and centres on whether we 'could' or 'couldn't' care less with a specific focus on what we intend to mean when we use a string of language containing some combination of these words. It seems to me that there are those who want to say one thing, but instead use language to say another. When I see people write, or hear people say, "I could care less," my immediate typical response to the meaning of this string of words is twofold. I wonder how much the person actually cares and want to ask, "well, why don't you care less?"

An example of this might be someone who is entirely uninterested in a particular subject, let's say baseball (because I find baseball extremely boring and uninteresting, heh). The wrong way to express this disinterest is to write or say something like, "I could care less about baseball." If you don't care at all about baseball, then what you want to say is "I couldn't care less about baseball." The latter implies that the language user has absolutely no care whatsoever about baseball--that he or she is at the very bottom of the scale that registers one's degree of caring towards, in this instance, baseball. The former implies that it is entirely possible that the language user could have less care on the scale of caring, which actually means there is some degree of caring about baseball.

So, if we want to convey our particular and absolute disinterest in baseball--or anything else--we don't want to say or write that we "could care less," rather, we want to say or write that we "couldn't care less." In other words, if a particular language user wants to be understood as having no care at all for a particular thing--that he or she is at the very bottom of the scale when it comes to his or her amount of caring--then he or she want's to negate all possibility of caring; thus, the language user needs to include the negation in his or her language use, namely, "could not."

Omitting the negation implies that some caring is present, but not to what degree. So, if we "could care less" about a specific thing, then we could actually care quite a lot about this specific thing. Indeed, of all the things we care about, we can always say that we "could care less" about these things and be uttering something true relative to our particular set of cares: it is entirely possible that we could care less about the things we care about the most.

Given this bit of analysis, it might be understandable why I've become accustomed to having my teeth set on edge when I see people use the phrase "could care less" in their employment of language. It has become for me habitual to experience some small amount of annoyance as soon as my eyes scan any text that include the phrase "could care less." So, I was quite surprised and delighted the other day when someone used "could care less" in a way that actually conveyed what he or she meant--that there was absolutely no caring present at all--and it made me do a double take of the sentence and brought a grin to my face. The language user wrote:

No one could care less.

In my entire reading history I am quite sure this is the only occasion I have ever seen someone use the phrase 'could care less' in conjunction with other parts of language to convey what he or she actually meant: there is no amount of caring at all--there is precisely zero caring.

As for the rest of the language users that have no care at all about something, but write or say that they actually do have some degree of care--regardless of how large or small the amount of caring: smarten up. If you don't care at all about something and also desire to accurately convey this to other language users, then, please, use language in a way that actually means what you intend otherwise you might find that people couldn't care less about what it is you are trying to say.