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The Queen of Science...

Discover Magazine

1 The median score for college-bound seniors on the math section of the SAT in 2011 is about 510 out of 800. So right there is proof that there are lots of unsolved math problems.

2 The great 19th-century mathematician Carl Friedrich Gauss called his field “the queen of sciences.”

3 If math is a queen, she’s the White Queen from Alice in Wonderland, who bragged that she believed “as many as six impossible things before breakfast.” (No surprise that Lewis Carroll also wrote about plane algebraic geometry.)

4 For example, the Navier-Stokes equations are used all the time to approximate turbulent fluid flows around aircraft and in the bloodstream, but the math behind them still isn’t understood.

5 And the oddest bits of math often turn out to be useful. Quaternions, which can describe the rotation of 3-D objects, were discovered in 1843. They were considered beautiful but useless until 1985, when computer scientists applied them to rendering digital animation.


My favorite Calculus problem:


More at the link below:

Discover Magazine: 20 Things You Didn't Know About...Math

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The Burden of Wealth

One of the most recent civilizations to join the Hegemony, the Plutarchs, a group of sentients from a highly advanced world, upon discovering the existence of extraterrestrial civilizations insisted on becoming a member of said civilizations. The Plutarchs (our name for them, that was the closest translation that worked in polite company, their actual translation was "the owners of everything") were insistent they could improve galactic commerce by bringing their ideas to the community of worlds. 


They insisted their way of dealing with wealth, its management and development, mastered over millennia ensured the furthering of progress, improved innovation and inspired their populace to work harder than ever with new levels of prosperity for the civilization. And while there was poverty, it was an accepted part of the lifestyle of their planet and the people who were poor understood it was their lot in life. It simply couldn't be helped. Poverty was a natural side-effect of wealth and knowledge of that fact ensured wealth moved where it needed to be in society. 


The Hegemony tended to not involve itself in the politics of worlds unless those worlds wanted to join the galactic community.  The Hegemony was less than happy with the social structures and were absolutely sure they wanted nothing to do with the Plutarchs financial structures since the Plutarchs, for all of their wealth had failed to handle issues on their own planet to the standards of the Council of Worlds. While the Hegemony watched the Plutarchs and Citizens relationships, the Plutarchs insisted they should be allowed to join the Hegemony and would not take no for an answer. After a decade of watching the planet, the Hegemonic Council's solution was a unique one. 

The Council's decision was one that did not change the inherent nature of the planet. Since every Citizen was fitted upon birth, with an automatic asset management account, which tracked their wealth and assets and assigned them a numerical value, indicating their wealth, the Council decided to build on that idea. Every citizen was fitted with a gravitic torc. A beautiful piece of jewelry that could not be removed by local scientists. The torc would be linked to the databases of the world banks and would reflected the wealth of the person, the richer they were, the more affected by the force of gravity they would become. 


Once the system was installed (and it took some time, the Hegemony insisted on hiring local workers and paying them a galactic Citizen's wages for their efforts) it would be active on all one billion of the Citizens. It was explained how the technology would work and Plutarchs who were extremely wealthy would be given a month to decide how to organize their funds. Most didn't seem to understand how the devices would work and were unhappy with how the Hegemony decided to go about their indoctrination. 

The Council tried to explain how the galaxy was a big place and worlds who wanted the benefits of the Hegemony, a community of over sixty thousand inhabited planets and millions of other kinds of biomes, artificial, virtual, chemical or mechanical, slavery of any kind was frowned upon by responsible members of the Hegemony. No race could trade, sell, or interact with the Hegemony if they engaged in slavery or slave-like conditions. The state of Citizens on the Plutarchs world easily qualified as a form of wage slavery and indentured servitude. 


Citizens were unable to own property unless they were already born into wealth. If a Citizen managed somehow to become wealthy enough to afford property, they paid three times the current rate as a form of entrance fee into the Plutarch society. Most of the time, Citizens were paid only what was necessary for them to meet their monthly allowance of resources. The net result was, at the end of the month, Citizens had a net worth of zero. Sometimes it was less. If a Citizen had a net value of less than zero, they were allowed to use debt management mechanisms to keep track of that debt. 


Unfortunately, once a Citizen fell deeply into debt, they were usually unable to get out of debt and interest rates ensured they would be driven to penal slavery, either by failing to pay the interest which then criminalized their poverty and ensured they were sent to debtor's prisons to work off that debt being paid one tenth of their previous wages. Citizens sent to prison, died there and their debt was divided among their surviving relatives. 


Citizens could be educated, but only one tenth of one percent could afford to do it without incurring new costs. Most were forced to get an education they could not afford and became part of a workforce that could only pay enough to keep their debt from growing, nothing more. Yes, even under these conditions, innovations, breakthroughs, developments continued to happen because people were desperate to escape their conditions. Most of those technologies were "developed" by the Plutarchs who paid their wages as work for hire, making sure the Citizen got to keep none of the funds created by their labors. 


As the month wound on, most Plutarchs ran about trying to figure out how to maneuver their wealth into accounts that would make their money appear on paper to belong to someone other than themselves. Others made corporations, claimed those corporations were persons and divested themselves of their wealth. Normal Citizens hearing the news of their impending joining of the Hegemony were unable to muster much enthusiasm, especially when the Hegemony indicated it would make no changes to the status quo of the civilization. 


The gravitic web was established one week before activation of the Wealth Management System and the Citizens who established it complained nothing would change for them and the Hegemony was simply a greater version of the structure of their world and it was simply preparing Citizens for their eventual enslavement as members of the galactic community. Most of those technicians were paid a tidy bonus to establish the gravitic web and were pleased to see the Hegemony was far less stingy than the Plutarchs of their world and they had better work hours as servants of the Hegemony, so they surmised it might not be as difficult when they became Citizens of the Hegemony. 


A great fanfare preceded the Hegemonic Council's arrival on the Plutarch's world for their acceptance ceremony. The gravitic web was activated at the same time as the treaty was signed. The signer of the treaty and ninety percent of all Plutarchs died instantly, crushed under the weight of their wealth. Once activated, it could not be easily shut down. The Council retired to quarters and would wait for the next representatives of the Plutarchs to appear. 


The Hegemony's computers did not accept prevarications used by the Plutarchs for generations to pretend they were less wealthy than they appeared to be. If money could be tied to you in some fashion, no matter how tenuous, it was and the burden of that wealth was yours. The remaining nine percent were hospitalized and unable to move until they actually divested themselves of their wealth. Most died a few months later bowed under their ever-increasing wealth since their engines of prosperity favored wealth flowing uphill faster than they could figure out how to get rid of it. By the end of the month, the Plutarchs, down to the last entity were dead. The remaining Citizens, once a new governing body was elected, met with the Council and decided they would leave the Hegemony's gift running as a reminder of where they came from. 


The remaining Citizens reformed many of the rules that allowed the Plutarchs to exist in the first place. Debts were forgiven, prisons were opened, education became a service provided by the government. Prosperity would be localized, and local Citizens were respected no matter where they lived on their planet. The new reforms made it possible to be wealthy but it would be up to everyone to ensure egregious disregard for the system could never return. Gravity would handle the rest that tried. 


Yes, there are rich Citizens today. You can tell them from the occasional shuffle of their step or their slightly bowed backs, tastefully dressed with very comfortable shoes. Most accept that burden gracefully and work diligently to ensure they never grow wealthier faster than they can return to the truly innovative, intelligent and capable Citizenry what is theirs, dignity in work and a prosperity equal to their effort.

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Trayvon_McCallas_InvertThe hunt and murder of Trayvon Martin seems like a fictionalized scene from a teen dystopian novel similar to the Hunger Games. The only problem is that this scene is real.  I’ve been keeping up with the news on this case and I am both horrified and enraged.  My feelings stem from two fronts, one because I am Black and the other because I am a mother.  The injustice boils.

Visit:http://www.aliciamccalla.com/blog/87-trayvon-20-a-creative-science-fiction-response- 

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Edison's Last Jam...

Good Technology

la vengeance se mange très-bien froide, or "revenge is very good eaten cold." Khan Noonian Singh in Wrath of Khan quotes "revenge is a dish best served cold," is alas not from the Klingons, but the 1841 French novel Mathilde by Marie Joseph Eugène Sue (Wikipedia)

In the late 19th century, two competing electricity systems jostled for dominance in electric power distribution in the United States and much of the industrialized world. Alternating current (AC) and direct current (DC) were both used to power devices like motors and light bulbs, but they were not interchangeable.
 

A battle for the grid emerged from the Apple and Microsoft of the Gilded Age. Thomas Edison, who invented many devices that used DC power, developed the first power transmission systems using this standard. Meanwhile, AC was pushed by George Westinghouse and several European companies that used Nikola Tesla's inventions to step up current to higher voltages, making it easier to transmit power over long distances using thinner and cheaper wires.

The rivalry was fraught with acrimony and publicity stunts -- like Edison electrocuting an elephant to show AC was dangerous -- but AC eventually won out as the standard for transmission, reigning for more than a century.

When we visited the Architectural Engineering Department at North Carolina A and T, Dr. Singh (absolutely no relation to Ricardo Montaban's fictional character, but an interesting aside), spoke to my son of "off-grid" buildings, self-sufficient and generating their own power. I see this as a part of the effort towards energy independency.
However, It is my sincerely hope that no elephant is injured in this latest incarnation of DC power.

 

Scientific American: Edison's Revenge - Will DC Make a Comeback in the US?

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THE FASTEST... "Minds Racing" "Speed Freak"

This goes out to each and every individual I have had the honor of working with, sharing adventures with, learning with and learning from. I wanted to share with you, a new webseries campaign I’m producing that needs your help and support!

The Fastest is a sci-fi action series in which citizens of the small fictional New York City borough of Tran’s Port, find themselves moving and thinking at light speed after an accident affects random inhabitants in strange ways.

FIND OUT MORE ABOUT THE FASTEST BY CLICKING HERE: http://www.kickstarter.com/projects/1116239088/the-fastest-minds-racing-speed-freak

OUR GOAL is to transform this into a web series and grow The Fastest campaign into a television series.  We've written character arcs for dozens of characters but will focus on shooting one episode for a character that Filmmaker, Google/YouTube Producer Chris Chan Roberson has developed and a character that Filmmaker/Entrepreneur Greg Payton has developed.  We've also extensively developed the history of Tran's Port, its supporting characters, and what's to happen in the first several seasons.

WHAT WE'VE DONE SO FAR Thanks to the years of teaching and on-set experience by Chris and Greg, the shoot is fully scheduled. The crew is in place and the roles have been cast.  We have all the equipment we need; taking advantage of the latest in RED, Sony, Panasonic and Go-Pro High-Definition camera technology.

WHAT WE NEED  The two most expensive budget items are food and transportation. The money raised here will feed our fearless crew. No food, no morale; no morale, no series.  The money will also help our crew travel to various parts of New York City and beyond to realistically create the fictional sixth borough of Tran's Port. 

Simply put: every dollar you spend will be seen on screen.  The money you invest in our series will not go towards processing fees or producer salaries, but will pay for someone to record professional quality sound, to have professional make up artists, to pay for actual locations opposed to redressed NYC apartments, and so forth and so on.


With every campaign, it has its deadlines! By April 8th, 6:20pm, the campaign must be fully funded that’s why I turn to some of my most trusted professionals, friends and loved ones for your support! Remember it only takes $1; more if you feel so generous! Like, donate and share with your own networks to help get the word out!

FIND OUT MORE ABOUT THE FASTEST BY CLICKING HERE: http://www.kickstarter.com/projects/1116239088/the-fastest-minds-racing-speed-freak

Every dollar counts as the campaign for the newest science-fiction series marches on! We plan to submit this series to the New York Television Festival http://www.nytvf.com/, the International Television Festival http://itvfest.org/, among others, so the vision for The Fastest will be shared among the masses!

LIKE, SUPPORT AND SHARE THE FASTEST!!

Thanks and much love for your support,

Greg Payton | Chris Chan Roberson
Creators
THE FASTEST

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Nanopower and MEMS

NIST Photo

In our bodies, an electrolyte "any substance containing free ions that make the substance electrically conductive." (Wikipedia) Our muscles and neurons respond to this when we replenish it with a solution that has a salt like sodium, potassium, calcuim, magnesium (ibid). It made the University of Florida famous (Gatorade), and most likely quite wealthy.

It turns out you can be too thin—especially if you’re a nanoscale battery. Researchers from the National Institute of Standards and Technology (NIST), the University of Maryland, College Park, and Sandia National Laboratories built a series of nanowire batteries to demonstrate that the thickness of the electrolyte layer can dramatically affect the performance of the battery, effectively setting a lower limit to the size of the tiny power sources.* The results are important because battery size and performance are key to the development of autonomous MEMS—microelectromechanical machines—which have potentially revolutionary applications in a wide range of fields.
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"Designer" Graphene...

Ars Technica - link below

A new experiment involving a graphene-like material has shown that it's possible to perform some spectacular manipulations of the properties of these quasiparticles. The work is described in a Nature letter by Kenjiro Gomes, Warren Mar, Wonhee Ko, Francisco Guinea, and Hari C. Manoharan. The team arranged carbon monoxide molecules to form the same hexagonal pattern found in graphene, except that they could change the spacing slightly.

 

This produced an environment where the material's electrons behave remarkably like relativistic particles, with a "speed of light" that they can adjust. Additionally, the researchers could change the spacing between molecules in a way that the masses of the quasiparticles changed, or cause them to behave as though they are interacting with electric and magnetic fields—without actually applying those fields to the material. This setup will potentially help us explore new physics that may arise in these environments.

 

Wikipedia: Higgs mechanism
Ars Technica: Researchers mimic relativity and the Higgs field in graphene-like material

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ET Don't Phone?...

OK: It's kind of a rant, but hopefully a thought-provoking one.

Screeneddotcom



Star Trek made us fawn over Vulcans; loath Klingons (who in a wierd Worf way, turned out to be cool), and Romulans (not-so-much).

ET gave us the cute beneficent alien, we didn't get a whole lot of tech from him/her, but a good feeling after seeing him/her with a young, screaming Drew Barrymore; we rooted for ET when we thought its life force left.

SETI has three links on this blog page: each starts with, er "SETI" on "Cool Physics Links." However, with the current political climate of "other-ness," my predictions are gloomy, but succinct:

- gun sales would increase along with survivalists and militias;

- a new invective -- like "Slag" in Alien Nation -- would be invented;

- the new-new concern would be inter species marriages;

- Ragnorok, End-Time, Mayan Prophecies et al would become prominent immediately.

I'm watching a lot of episodes on Science Channel on the subject: "Are We Alone"; "Alien Encounters." It's in the nerd Zeitgeist (a very small fraction of said Zeitgeist, mind you).

An interesting paper is making its way across the net asking if "first contact" will help or harm humanity: Acta Astronautica. I'm reminded of the Twilight Zone episode: "To Serve Man."

I think sadly, we only have ourselves as reference, and how we evolved as the top of the predatory scale, similar to H.G. Wells' recollection of Britain's foray into Australia inspiring War of the Worlds. A feeling of universal reciprocity; "karma" that we would reap the whirlwind: what we've collectively sown in the winds of time...with one another.
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No Scientists Need Apply?...


John Paulos is a Mathematics Professor at Temple University. Writing in the New York Times:
NYT Photo

I’ve visited Singapore a few times in recent years and been impressed with its wealth and modernity. I was also quite aware of its world-leading programs in mathematics education and naturally noted that one of the candidates for president was Tony Tan, who has a Ph.D. in applied mathematics. Tan won the very close election and joined the government of Prime Minister Lee Hsien Loong, who also has a degree in mathematics.

 

China has even more scientists in key positions in the government. President Hu Jintao was trained as a hydraulic engineer and Premier Wen Jiabao as a geomechanical engineer. In fact, eight out of the nine top government officials in China have scientific backgrounds. There is a scattering of scientist-politicians in high government positions in other countries as well. German Chancellor Angela Merkel has a doctorate in physical chemistry, and, going back a bit, Margaret Thatcher earned a degree in chemistry.

I personally think it's a matter of motivation.
Usually, politics is not seen as a "STEM Career," so many don't even think to pursue such a path beyond the lab/fab. Dealing with a circuit/test tube/sample is far simpler than saying the right sound-bite-tested phrase for the cameras. It's quieter than a political rally.

It's also my observation that politicans have "emotional intelligence," meaning they can "move a crowd," a skill they need if they want to maintain a job. A skill unnecessary in a laboratory. Tech types tend to be self-motivated.

 
From Wikipedia: The term technocracy was originally used to designate the application of the scientific method to solving social problems, in counter distinction to the traditional economic, political or philosophic approaches. According to the proponents of this concept, the role of money and economic values, political opinions, and moralistic control mechanisms would be eliminated altogether if and when this form of social control should ever be implemented in a continental area endowed with enough natural resources, technically trained personnel, and installed industrial equipment so as to allow for the production and distribution of physical goods and services to all continental citizens in an amount exceeding the individuals' physical ability to consume.

 

This would, unfortunately create a new "class" of being that only specialized knowledge would allow the ascendancy to the governing body. Since it would only require a select few, much as our current system of governance, it would become quite evident that the shift of power would favor one group (s) over others. The world does not work like Star Trek, or Vulcan. Our baser instincts would prevail. (Besides, it ultimately didn't work so well on the fictional home of Superman - they, er... blew up.) Smiley

 

However, the current pandering to focus groups and "the base" needs to cease. Our leaders need SOME appreciation of science for clear decision-making, else they will model an anti-intellectualism that will soon become the "new normal," one we will not recover from...for maybe a generation.

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Graphene Battery...



Researchers at Hong Kong Polytechnic University claim to have invented a new kind of graphene-based "battery" that runs solely on ambient heat. The device is said to capture the thermal energy of ions in a solution and convert it into electricity. The results are in the process of being peer reviewed, but if confirmed, such a device might find use in a range of applications, including powering artificial organs from body heat, generating renewable energy and powering electronics.

 

Hope...for my laptop!Smiley

 

Physics World: Graphene in new 'battery' breakthrough?

Physics arXiv:
Self-Charged Graphene Battery Harvests Electricity from Thermal Energy of the Environment
Zihan Xu1†*, Guoan Tai1,3†, Yungang Zhou2, Fei Gao2, Kim Hung Wong1

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Quantum Cognition...

Quantum Biology

The aim of [quantum cognition] is to use quantum theory to develop radically new models of a variety of cognitive phenomena ranging from human memory to decision making. Although speculative, this research is gaining momentum. For instance, later this year, the highly regarded Journal of Mathematical Psychology will publish a special issue of quantum models of cognition. In addition, quantum cognition is a prominent theme within the Quantum Interaction Symposia, which provide a forum for a growing body of researchers applying quantum theory to non-quantum domains.

I recall a reporter interviewing me for a fitness magazine (I owned a martial arts studio at the time) describing themselves as "mental." Explains a lot...

This kind of lends to either a step towards quantum computing, or the "woo woo" physics I blogged on earlier. Although: Paris in June sounds nice (see Symposia link above). Smiley

PhysOrgdotcom:

Physics arXiv links:

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 THE PURCHASER OF THE 100TH AUTOGRAPHED COPY OF RENPET WILL RECEIVE A FREE KINDLE FIRE. WHAT IS RENPET? YOUR FIRST GLIMPSE OF AN ALL BLACK PLANET.
PLEASE USE THIS LINK TO PURCHASE: http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/0984175105/ref=sc_pgp__m_A2B4SRX5SFFUCB_1?ie=UTF8&m=A2B4SRX5SFFUCB&n&s&v=glance
A PORTION OF THE PROCEEDS WILL BE DONATED TO LEAD THE CHILDREN FUNDRAISER FOR THE SUPPORT OF THE CHILDREN OF HAITI http://www.leadthechildren.org/
FIND OUT MORE ABOUT RENPET AT: www.renpetscifi.com

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ASHCANS volume one

Hey folks. just letting those who're interested in comics know that GENRE 19's first ebook, ASHCANS, is available at AMAZON.

it's part biography, part how-to, part awesome art and stories.  I'f you loved PRODIGAL (and who didn't?), you will love this.

If you never heard of PRODIGAL (and who hasn't?) you'll STILL love this. It's just that awesome.

LINK!!!!!

http://tinyurl.com/826axh7

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Beast of Belly (Introduction of the Jackal)


Beast of Belly..a Burden

He howls loud, especially at night..shouting for release. Yelling to be free.

Pangs and miserable moans..growling..to be heard.

Be still Jackal.  I have nothing for you today.

Kicking me with his bent over slate toes..his withering varicose legs; distorted and cadaverous.

With long curled silver nails, he  slashes stripes out of my intestines.

Grown accustomed to his pain..I ignore him.

Distressed he pleads.."I wanna get out..Please."

With a spoonful of sugar and the darkest rum, I try to soothe him.  But, he slobbers it out..bubbling the liquor from his blue lips.

Soon after, I run a warm bath of sweet milk and honey. Followed by a gentle massage of  Lavender, Juniper Juice and Almond Oil. I had hopes of relaxing him and changing his mood. But, instead the ritual just incited his deviance even further.

He flailed and bawled..cringed and grunted. Contemplated and conspired on his next move.  Childishly, thumping me with his fingers.

"Let me out..Bitch!"..he bursts.  His bloody tongue spitting and squirting diseased lies. Conjuring up horrid tales while holding my ovaries between his teeth..

He gushes..."I'll do it Bitch..You know I will. I'll crush em!"..juices swirling between his slurred speech.

Complacent.. I whisper.. Be quiet Jackal.  Not today.

I stroke and press... delicately; to soothe him.

He whines and bellows..elbowing my sides..  kneeing my navel.

"I hate you girl. I fucking hate you." (with heavy breath)

Alright, Jackal.. I know. Just calm down. Shh..I hold and rock him....

From each side he bumps.. "Li..aaah!!!"  he screams. "Let me out..Bitch..let me out!"  He tantrums and shakes.

I sigh..Jackal you're not being fair.. Stop it.

In the evening, I cook a full meal.  Fresh greens, and rich grains.  A sweet potato pie topped with whipped cream and cinnamon sprinkles. Red wine and mint garnish.

My Grandmother's gold-rimmed china, and the best silver.  A beautiful, pink, silk, beaded table napkin, rests on my lap.

Eat up Jackal..it's good.... I smile.

He groans..and rattles.  Every bite I try to feed him..he blows back. I hiccup and burp. Desperately trying to hold the food down.

I fizzle... Stop it!  Jackal, Stop it..your gonna make me sick.

I inhale and huff, then return to my meal.  Watching the dark sky..and the ivory chiffon curtains vibrate from the open window. Candle wax drips into it's  holder; it's light beautifully flickering. A peaceful scene. Serene and tranquil.

I raise my fork again.. A small bite I take..

He spews it out..over my chin.

Quickly I wipe, and slam the fork onto the table.. "Dammit Jackal!!! I said not tonight!  I just wanted to have a peaceful meal..for once!"

I push myself from the table, allowing the pretty napkin to fall.

Snatch up the plate and utensils... Drown the candle ... then toss everything in the trash.

My stomach ripples and shakes.

Angry and silent.  Aggressively panting and perspiring I grab my keys, my purse, a coat, the trash, and out the backdoor I go.

Jackal's skittish and merry..Clapping his idiotic hands..  "Yes..Yes.."

"Fuck YOU Jackal." I snare.

His heels are pressing into my pelvis.. Upright he stands in me. Straight and Firm.  Properly saluting me, in all too familiar fashion.

I toss the bag into the dumpster.

Stomp around to the front. Yank open the car door, drive the car into the garage with door still open.  Pull down the garage door. Lock.  Then, head down the road.

My breath is uneasy. I'm jittery and edgy. I tell myself to calm down. I try to slow down my breathing and gather my thoughts, but it's difficult.

The swirling dust and the cool air ignite me. Balling my fist..I scream as loud as I can.. (yelling at the stars) "Why is this happening?!"

With a deep inhale, I shake my head. Quickly resolving that everything, (all of "this")... is in-fact bull shit. Softly muttering, "I can't eat, sleep, or be still. I'll never be at peace. I hate it."

My lips perch..and anger turns into frustration. Frustration with Jackal for not compromising. For not seeing things my way. For ALWAYS getting what he wants.

Mad I turn inward..

"Ya hate me, Jackal?  Well, I fucking loathe You! I LOATHE you!"

Tickled he smiles.  Rubbing my belly from the inside.  "I don't hate you.  I don't hate you.." he wickedly sings.

He playfully pinches me. Distorting his voice to sound just like mine.  Mocking me..  "I loathe you."  Amused...we both laugh.

I get myself together, and pick up the pace; as if aware of my destination. Quickly and swiftly walking. But, soon tired and muddled.

We stroll for miles. With hesitation and confusion, I linger in the darkness. Aimlessly wandering. Kicking rocks in my cowgirl boots. Wanting to return home, but knowing that I won't be able too. Distraught with what I've become but aware of my lack of choice.

"I hate this. I really hate this.   But, Jackal's all I have. I have no one but him." I whisper between bitten lips.

In comfort, I submit. I breathe.

Anxiously, he sways.  I pat him still. Once again, my baby. My only friend.

"I know where we'll go!" I smile.

I turn the corner to the bus station.. We take the bus for a couple of blocks and arrive at the subway.

On the train..

He dances and hums.  I twirl my hair and wring the sweat from my hands.

He squeals the number of stops the train takes.  "1..2..3..4..5..

As I rise..he excitedly bops around in me.

"6!!!" he yells. "I knew it! I knew it!"

Off..the train, and a skip of a couple blocks.  We march.

Twilight shuffling through the white double doors with the chipped paint.

Dips and twists and Dally Oh's..pack the box. Lush taverns full of spicy spirits

Lavish Bellies Boast

Beast of Belly..a Burden

A trip up on squeaky stool with turned metal and scarlet slashed vinyl

fogged glasses of  Sailor brew and lonesome cherries.

Old smoke a burning...heavy coughs and cruddy cigars

blackened mirrors, dusty shelves and dark wine.

 

We sit at the bar..drinking and patiently waiting.

A brush of my shoulder and.... "Here we go."

Jackal quietly listens.

"Hey Sweetness..I haven't seen you in a while."

" Hello.  Well, I don't think I've ever seen you." I flirt. Surveying him all over. "It's him. he's the one!" Jackal squawks.

"Do you mind?" he motions toward the seat next to me.  "No, it's fine."

The bartender winks and slides my second drink.  "Thanks Harry." I murmur within my glass

"Uh..I got it." Handing his credit card out to Harry. "Alright Man" yaps Harry, while giving me a side-eye look.

We talk for a while..until Jackal grows restless.

"Huu-aaa-ah.."I give out a fake yawn.  "Okay. I think I'll call it a night."

I uneasily rise.  Slightly off-balance and slipping off of my seat. Fast, he backs me up and gently anchors me;  just like I knew he would.

Smiling he questions.  "I hope you're not trying to drive?  I can take you home, if you like?"

I giggle.  "Yeah, that may be best.  I don't think I'm gonna make it."

I flap my wrist at Harry.. He throws the guy my coat..and we stumble out the door.

"I'm parked in the back." holding me up by my waist.  "Your not gonna be sick are ya?"  I chuckle.. "Nah, I'm fine. Your not gonna be sick are ya?" I slyly giggle.

A cherry-red pick up truck awaits. "Nice truck" I slither.

"What is that you do again?"  I ask.  "I work construction."

"Right." I smile. "I guess that makes you pretty strong, hunh?" I flirt and  squeeze his biceps."

Blushing, he helps me up into the truck..Gently strapping me in.  "Comfy?"

"Yep.. Totally." I snicker

He locks and shuts the door then unlocks and opens the other.

Once he's seated I watch him.

Nice looking guy. Clean cut and clear complexion. Kinda plain actually.  No jewelry or watch. His knuckles were awfully red, though.   A couple of old scars and scratches up his arm. There doesn't seem to be any other distinguishable marks. He appears to keep to himself, neat from hat to pants..shoes were filthy.  But, he's into construction.. so I guess that explains it.

Jackal pokes me.. "You like him?"

"Ah..I guess. He's attractive enough."

I tell him where to go..he follows, exactly.

"Hey..my house is just up that road"..still slurring my words.

"Oh yeah? How long have you lived here?"

"All my life.  It was my Great Grandparents house".

Up the winding road we go.. the wheels popping dust and gravel.

"Wow..this is a lot of land.  You live here alone?"

I cough..to hold Jackal down.. "Yes.  I live here alone."

".....Humph. Pretty nice."

We park..

I stumble out of the car..just to rouse him up a bit.  He hurriedly comes to my aid. .  up the porch we climb. He helps me up the stairs and holds me tight.

"Just push the door..it's open"..

"You don't lock your door?"  I laugh drunkenly...  "Nope.".   "Why not?" he asked; sounding a bit puzzled. "There's no need.  No one's gonna come to [this] house.  I've never had a problem.  I guess people just know not to mess with this old place."  Lightly giggling as we enter the foyer.

"Hmm...but aren't..?"

I interrupt his next question with the sound of one of my boots flailing against the hallway wall.  I kick off the other and toss my coat and purse to the side.   Wobbling on tip-toes, I face the steps.. Holding tight to the banister with my left hand, and unzipping the back of my skirt with the right.  Carefully, stepping out of it,while heading up the stairs. I feel him watching. From the corner of my eye, I peek.."You coming?" and purposefully swinging my hair.  Breathy, he accepts. The wood bends as he climbs. I hear his keys cling in his pocket. The rustle of his jacket, tenderly rubbing under his arm. His jeans stiff and pressed and the firm clap of his shoes as he steps.

Ahead of him I stay.  Dropping pieces for him to follow...shirt, bra..panties..
At the end of the hall I wait...naked and back facing him in the doorway.

Anxious, I sweat. My chest shivers and rises. Within a slight shake and he's on-top of me. His chin resting on the top of my head. The zipper of his jacket scratching my back.

"Your very beautiful".

"Thank you" I whisper.

He places his hands on top of my wrists..holding them gently to the door posts.

Is this your room?  "Yes".

"Can we go in?"  My tummy rumbles.. "Yes".  He playfully pauses...."Wait, are you hungry?" and kisses my neck.  "Something like that.." I smile

Heavily he presses against me.. His breath is racy.  Releasing one of my wrists he pushes open the door.

Sweet scents explode from the room.  Dimly lit by the nights sky.  The moon; full and bright. The room; dark and bare. Empty, except for the bed in the center. White bedding and cherry wood head-board. Dark chocolate wood floor. Crimson curtains blow in the distance.

"Umph. Simple and Sweet.". he states.  "Yep." I agree

Directing me toward the bed..we walk. Holding me by my shoulders and caressing down my arms..  "Turn around...I want to see you".

Softly, I say.. "No. I like you here". "Oh?" he questions.  "I mean, I like you were you are"..I correct.

"Oh..okay."  He begins to kiss me. My shoulders, my neck and the center of my back. Tenderly, he pecks at my sides..firmly massaging my thighs.  I (remorsefully) crawl on the bed. Laying on my stomach. Resting and relaxing.

He quietly removes his clothes. Neatly placing his shoes together. Folding over his jacket and pants and carefully placing his shirt on top.

Starting from my feet and ankles, he rubs up. Deep and firm with whole hands. I sigh..and converse with Jackal.  "I like this.  I really like this. He seems nice, now." Jackal shushes me.  "Shut up girl..I cant hear."

He massages my back. Affectionately, paying attention to every part.   At my neck he nestles; sucking my earlobe then lifting my hair out-of-the-way.  I feel his hesitation..

""What's this?" slightly raising from me to take a better view. Dismayed, he dauntingly asks "What happened?"

"Ah"..I exhale.  "I was in an accident a few years back.  I had to have surgery, and that's my scar".

"Wow!..you don't mind do you?"  gesturing if it's okay to further inspect.

"No. I don't mind."  He further lifts my hair.

"What kind of accident was this?  It had to be a very bad one. The scar stretches from the back to the front of your head.  With your hair..though..it's not noticeable."

Too free and rambling with his words and questions, I grow weary and bury my face in the bed.  "Oh. I'm sorry.  I don't want to offend you. It's just..that.."

I stop him before he continues.."It's ok. Really. I understand."

He rubs his finger along the ridges.  "Is this metal?"

Yes. (dryly)

Wow..your lucky to be alive.

"I know." (dryly).

"So did they.."

"Look! can we please get back to where we were before you found the scar?  I've heard and answered the same questions a thousand times before.  I uneasily plead..Please?" while stiffening my body.

He leans to the side of me..trying to get a glimpse of my face.. Hovering at my shoulders..."I'm sorry.  Really, I do apologize. I can be an idiot sometimes. Forgive me?"

I turn further away from him and secretly smile.

He ducks around me, sheltering me. "You are really pretty."  I've never met anyone like you."

Jackal coughs and laughs.  "Eek..Bullshit. He's bullshit..Gal."

"Do it..Do it. Do it"

I moan, instead of replying. Arching and curving my back. My body heats and pulses.

He gently moves with me.

I moaned more;  rolling back and forth against him.

"Wow..your getting hot." excitedly kissing my neck.  He tries to move with me..at my pace, but can't catch up. He wraps his arms around my waist to hold me and pull me closer.

I release more.

"Your skin is so warm..your really heating up".

Entranced, I could barely hear him.  He kept trying to view my face but my movement was making it difficult.

My head grew heavy and disjointed. I twisted back and forth, vibrating and shifting.  My belly tightened and narrowed. Deeply inside me it tucked. Forcing my breast up and my shoulders back..

I grieved and mumbled. Whined and uttered.

He tries to grab hold.."Be still. Be still."  Frustrated, he forcefully tries to restrain me to enter me.

In the distance I heard him seek..."Are you alright?  Hey, what about me?  What did you say? What's the hell going on?"

Up me Jackal scurried, scrambling at each side of my breast, whirling through my ribs and into my spine.  Hurriedly tumbling about.  He whizzed and bustled. Causing my body to rise and fall in inscrutable ways. Bony lumps poked through my skin. Contracting and constricting simultaneously.

Moans turned to groans.

Passion turned to fear.

Groans soon turned to hollers..

Hollers turned to limp prayers...."Our Father Who art in heaven hallowed be thy name..thy kingdom come..thy will be..."

Out of me he leaped. Jackal climbed into the spaces of his speech and left his lips dangling.  Each side of the man's jaw twisted. A slow stream of liquid fell from his eyes, while his pupils stayed on me. We watched each other as Jackal riddled his body.

Permeating each sector, perforating his pulmonary artery.  Sipping from his spleen and chewing on his liver. Continuously searching. "Where?..Where?" I hear him call out. Ducking underneath his left Kidneys. "Where is it? You sick bastard?"  He spins around his bladder, up to his large intestine and then around his small intestine..plucking it with his index finger..He sniffs.  "Ha!" He snatches another piece of it with his nail. Licks and clicks his tongue. "Yep."

Behind his small intestine hid a filthy secret. A war crime long forgotten. A sin he thought he paid for. Vowing never to repeat or speak of the atrocity he committed 20 years ago...he assumed it was over. He went to church almost every Sunday. He prayed every day. He repented; (he thought).

But, each night the ghastly deed would enter his slumber. A history and tragedy constantly retold. A haunting of a memory that he had so hoped would end. But, not because of its content, because of his embarrassment.  A shameful secret forced to be divulged.

It was in Mahmudiyah, South of Baghdad, he and five other soldiers were drinking and playing cards a their assigned checkpoint.  One soldier spoke of a young Iraqi girl he'd often seen doing chores in a house just up the road. He obsessed over her to the group and boasted of how he'd been hunting her for weeks. He suggested that they all go have some fun with her.  A couple of more swigs..and it was a go.

In bright desert sun, the team, holding tight to their weapons entered the home. Taking hostage the girl's family in one room, while raping her in a another. Three of them repeatedly raped and tortured the 14 yr. old girl. In a fog and confused, he was unsure to take part. So, he watched.  At one point, a comrade asked him to hold her ankles because she was rapidly flailing about. He obliged.  He watched uneasy yet excited. Dumb, numb and struck. Dazed he was unable to hear the gunshots in the far bedroom.  To drunk to hear them announce that it "was his turn".  "Tony, come on man..you want some of this..?"  Unresponsive, he just watched.. He watched when they shot and killed her and cautiously backed away as they poured kerosene and lit a match. Hot from the flames off of the burning bodies and drenched of sweat and blood, he fled with the rest of the pack.

He later testified at the civilian trial, that he was traumatized with fear.  He was already dealing with the stress of war and death. He explained that he was afraid of his fellow officers. Of course never admitting that he was more fearful of what they would think of him, if he had protested or sought help.  He told himself, that it was nothing he could do.  "This is war. There's no discrepancy in war. Is there?"  Comforted for years with his response repeatedly asserting his self-proclaimed declaration..."It was his duty as a soldier to maintain a violent nature. It is necessary in war. He vowed once he had served his time, he would leave it all behind.

So he did.  On the straight and narrow he lived. Never once in a brawl, a dispute, or ever to lose his temper.  Upright and correct.  A Misguided Hero in the eyes of his Commanding Officers and a Silent Soldier to his country.

But Jackal knew.  He knew it as soon as we walked into the bar.  He sensed it.  He called out to the immortality (damnation). He heard the death, lies, and transgression. He found the sin..just like always.

Bit by bit Jackal gobbled each morsel of terror. He cringed in delight with every abomination he swallowed.

Suspended in silence we tracked each other. His gaze panicked and petrified. Paralyzed and stiff.

Me amazed and torn. Tired of the trauma and being used as the beast's portal. So much I've seen and been exposed to. No happiness for me. No man is without sin but the weight of judgement is heavy upon me.

A balancing act. I juggle the sins from hand to hand. Jackal weighs them and Jackal convicts.

At last, he's finished. Jackal burps loud and cackles as he climbs up from the man.

"Here I come, here I come gal"...he yells, proudly.

My eyes water. Dare I admit that I shed tears. No tears have  bled from my eyes, since the accident. Jackal keeps me strong. We do a duty that must be done. No exceptions.

All crimson and grisly..he hangs from the man's tongue.. He winks, then flies through the parts of my teeth, lovingly patting my cheek before he enters.

As soon as he places his feet upon my tongue..my breath returns. I deeply inhale to help him along the way. Easy he slides and slips into my belly.

Motionless The Man sits.

I carefully back away from him. Scooting off the bed and unto the floor. I Grab a neatly folded outfit from underneath the bed. Jeans, t-shirt, wind-breaker and sneakers.

Solemnly, I dress myself  then redress the Man.

His lifeless body is rigorous but I manage. He stares at me; speechless.  His lashes flicker and his eyes stay wide. I'd like to comfort him, but I know I can not. I slightly smile and push him back onto the bed.

"You've been punished for what you did in Baghdad!"  I reassuringly yet assertively say.

"You are without a soul, which means you are dead.  Shortly, you will regain movement of your body, but it will only last for a brief while.  You have to do everything that I say to make your transition easier."

His pupils began to dart.

Listen carefully. As soon as you gain strength in your legs you must immediately leave my home. Get in your truck and go! I intensely watch him, nodding my head for him to agree.

If you do not leave on your own, your time left will be painful. Your speech is limited so dare not speak of this to anyone.

His face starts to twitch. Sadly, I view him.

Before I left the room, I bent to whisper in his ear...

"Such a shame, you were a handsome coward."  I cluck my tongue and whisper more..."You'd better RUN...as soon as you can and as FAST as you can. Victimized Souls are known to claim Salvation in this house."

 

Bipolar Mirror Skits

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A Change in BMI?...


Dr Ian Robinson with the NPL watt balance

NPL (National Physical Laboratory) has produced technology capable of accurate measurements of Planck's constant, which is a significant step towards changing the international definition of the kilogram – currently based on a lump of platinum-iridium metal kept in Paris, France.

I doubt it will change our BMI, but "hope springs eternal"...

 

NPL: One step closer to a new kilogram

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"Spukhafte Fernwirkung..."

"Spooky action at a distance" - Einstein

Artist's view of a single molecule sending a stream of single photons to a second molecule at a distance, in quantum analogy to the radio communication between two stations. Image: Robert Lettow


In the past 20 years scientists have shown that single molecules can be detected and single photons can be generated. However, excitation of a molecule with a photon had remained elusive because the probability that a molecule sees and absorbs a photon is very small. As a result, billions of photons per second are usually impinged on a molecule to obtain a signal from it. One common way to get around this difficulty in atomic physics has been to build a cavity around the atom so that a photon remains trapped for long enough times to yield a favorable interaction probability. Scientists at ETH Zürich and Max Planck Institute for the Science of Light in Erlangen have now shown that one can even interact a flying photon with a single molecule.

 

The results of the study published in Physical Review Letters provide the first example of long-distance communication between two quantum optical antennas in analogy to the 19th century experiments of Hertz and Marconi with radio antennas. In those early efforts, dipolar oscillators were used as transmitting and receiving antennas. In the current experiment, two single molecules mimic that scenario at optical frequencies and via a nonclassical optical channel, namely a single-photon stream. This opens many doors for further exciting experiments in which single photons act as carriers of quantum information to be processed by single emitters.

Research and Development: Two molecules communicate via single photons

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