Archive for the ‘sci-osophy’ Category

Don’t censor the web

Wednesday, January 18th, 2012

Some of my favorite sites — like Instructablesxkcd and Boing Boing — and others I use all the time — like YouTube and Wikipedia — are a product of and are only possible in an open internet that promotes the free exchange of knowledge.

Even a tiny site like mine is only possible in a world where I’m not in legal jeopardy if I link to a site anywhere online that has any links to copyright infringement (how could I possibly police that?).

Legislation currently pending in the US congress — H.R.3261 “Stop Online Piracy Act” (SOPA) and S.968 “PROTECT IP” (PIPA) — threaten, at a minimum, to significantly undermine our (that’s all of us on the web, people) ability to communicate with each other and encourage collaborative learning through linking to and direct sharing of resources and ideas. At worst, some of our favorite websites could disappear from the web without warning, and without due process of law.

So PLEASE take just a minute to contact your representatives in congress. For more information about what these bills could mean for the internet, there are more resources over at the EFF.

Thanks!

Rube Goldberg machines and what they have to do with writing

Saturday, February 5th, 2011

In case the name’s not ringing any bells, a Rube Goldberg machine is an overly complicated piece of engineering that can seemly go awry and grind to a halt at any point.

Do you remember the game Mouse Trap? A boot kicks over a bucket sending a marble down a stair and through a chute to a pole with a hand on top holding another ball that drops down through a hole into a bathtub — on and on it goes until the mouse cage comes rattling down, trapping the poor mice below. That game was my first exposure to a Rube Goldberg machine and I thought it was incredibly fascinating and clever.

Well, I was recently reading in Fast Company about Syyn Labs, a team best known for the Rube Goldberg machine it built for the band OK Go’s “This Too Shall Pass” video. This fun-loving and hard-working team learned when constructing their RB machine to put the most unreliable parts first, so if they didn’t work, it didn’t take as long to reset before testing again. And it took them 6 months to make their contraption and 85 takes to film it in a single shot.

So what does this have to do with writing?

Over the past three months, I’ve been trying to write faster. To get that first draft down and only then go back and edit the hell out of it. I have a tendency to nit-pick myself to death over nuance, or what I perceive to be nuance in word choice, sentence structure, rhythm, etc.

So I flew through the first five chapters of my new book, was driven to get it down. Then slam, I hit a roadblock — I needed to do some heavy-duty research before continuing. And I’ve been beating myself up for it over the past three weeks. Was I falling back into my old habits, I wondered, deluding myself that I was being productive when I was merely not writing?

But what if the writing process is the same as making a Rube Goldberg machine? What if the beginning comprises the pieces that can most easily go awry, and so it’s not such a bad idea to stop and make sure all your ducks (or dominoes) are in a row before continuing? Maybe getting that basis right is important and then you’re ready to fly through the rest before you go back and edit, edit, edit.

Is a Rube Goldberg machine just a diversion or is it something more? Is art just a diversion or must it be something more? Sometimes I think it’s pointless to wonder about such ideas while other times I feel the need to reach a conclusion, or at least to form an opinion.

Maybe all art is a form of Rube Goldberg machine, and all Rube Golderg machines are art — overly complex ways of saying/showing the simplicity of a thing so that we can marvel at it.

That works for me today.

Geek on the Cheap #125:
Last Bit of MIT – Quantum Mechanics Made (Sort of) Easy

Monday, February 15th, 2010

Okay, this is my last MIT-related GoC for the near future. I couldn’t resist this post because a friend of mine is editing a book by Walter Lewin, the well-known MIT physics professor (emeritus) whose lectures plunk physics solidly into the realm of the knowable for the average person (or undergraduate).

And who doesn’t want to impress her friends and colleagues with an understanding (however shallow) of quantum physics? That’s what I’ll be gabbing about at Mah Jongg next weekend, filling my competitors ears with a fuzzy explanation of Heisenberg’s uncertainty principle as they try to make a hand. (Clever strategy, no?)

And I’m challenging you to hop to the head of the class with this lecture, the last in Lewin’s course on classical mechanics, which is available in its entirety through MIT OpenCourseWare. And for those of you who prefer to read, you can find the entire transcript here.

Why should you care about quantum mechanics? Because, as Lewin says, “[it's] a bizarre world that we rarely experience in our daily lives, because we are used to basketballs, baseballs, tennis balls [classical mechanics].” In other words, quantum mechanics is not intuitive. And this is an important concept in and of itself for practicing science, politics and life: Intuition does not equal truth.

But enough tiny philosophy. Next week we’re back to brass tacks – an inexpensive computer build you don’t have to build.

Geek on the Cheap #118:
Why Can’t the Past Become the Future?

Monday, December 28th, 2009

Professor Richard Feynman,

With the New Year just a few days away, I’m thinking about time. Why must time move in one direction — forward? Why isn’t it reversible? Why can’t the future become the past? Because it just can’t, you say impatiently, already bored by the naiveté of the question.

And yet…

The fundamental physical laws of nature such as gravity, electricity and magnetism are reversible. Even molecular collision is reversible. So why aren’t the phenomena that happen according to these laws of physics reversible — the phenomena that constitute our perception of time?

How do we resolve this paradox?

In Richard Feynman’s lecture, “The Distinction of Past and Future,” he explains how the laws of physics do not have a obvious relevance to the world as we experience it. Don’t know Feynman? He’s a professor famous for a series of lectures taped by the BBC at Cornell University in 1964. Last July, Bill Gates made these lectures publicly available through a Microsoft Research initiative called Project Tuva.

But let’s get back to the question of time: How can it be that our experience of time is so different from the fundamentals that constitute it?

To me, this is similar to the false intuition that a heavy object should fall more swiftly than a light one. It doesn’t. (Gravity, unlike your mother, is blind to how much something weighs, though it might agree that you look fat in those pants.) If you drop a book and a fork, they’ll hit the ground at the same time, even though you might think the heavier object — the book — should hit first. I’m always guilty of thinking this way. I was reminded of my wrong intuition recently as I was reading about Newton’s Second Law of Motion in The Great Equations. (At least Aristotle was wrong, too.)

Why do we get these things wrong? Because, as Feynman explains at the end of “The Distinction of Past and Future,” the world is both fundamentally simple and tremendously complex, “to stand at either end and to walk out off the end of the pier only, hoping out in that direction is the complete understanding, is a mistake.” In other words, maybe our (incorrect) intuition that heavier objects should hit the ground first comes from the fact that they hit the ground harder, and we connect this to the idea of velocity, which takes us around to the idea of heavier falling faster. Makes sense, but it’s wrong. We’re standing at the wrong end of the pier and can’t see what’s really happening.

As for time, what phenomenon could be more straightforward: a simple line of actions connected dot to dot, the single constant in our lives, irrevocable. So why do we wonder and wish to make the past the future — to jump backwards, branching out in a new direction? Because our knowledge of time is complex, our understanding of what could have happened instead as real to us as the memory of what did.

Remorse and regret, hope and aspiration — these complex thoughts and emotions spring from our perception of time passing. They are as real as the law of gravity and sometimes so heavy they sink you into a hole, other times so light you feel as if you’re floating. At this time of year, it’s nice to be reminded that there’s always the other end of the spectrum; it exists all the time. You don’t have to wait until next year for things to turn around because in some way they already are.

But enough of this. All I really wanted to say was Happy New Year! Simple.