Today it was raining when I walked to the bus stop, and when I got there, I saw an interesting exciting rainbow in a bit of spilled gasoline. I asked Jane what she supposed caused the gasoline to reflect a rainbow pattern. Since the pattern remained the same from all angles, and the light was diffused by clouds, I figured that it was not simply light reflecting off the gasoline, and Jane agreed.
After the bus ride, I was able to find out the reason why. Since petrol is lighter than water, the petrol sits in a layer on top of the water. When light lands on the puddle, some of it reflects off the gasoline, while some of it goes through the gasoline to reflect off the water. That means that for any given point in the puddle your eye sees two different beams of light: one that bounced off the petrol, and one that went through the petrol and bounced off the water.
Since the light going through the petrol had to go a farther distance, it is knocked ever so slightly out of phase with the light that bounced off the surface. My eye saw this confusion as color, and when my brain got news that an entire spectrum of color was seen in a puddle, it started to become curious.
Update: Today at work Robin told me not to use the word interesting because it is boring. I thought this was weird since interesting means not boring, but he is the boss. He suggested I use “exciting” instead. That is why I changed my title.
Mr. Huang-Po is an ancient person in my book of ideas which I read it every morning to gather courage. Today I was reading about Mr. Huang-Po, who is extremely ancient (he died in year 849 c.e.) but also very clever. Believe it or not, he talks about hive-mind quite a bit. Soon I will write all about hive-mind, but for now I am “engaging the subconscious” which is something I was taught to do by a nun who was also my teacher.
Mr. Huang-Po’s idea:
Your true nature is not lost in moments of delusion, nor is it gained at the moments of enlightenment. It was never born and can never die. It shines through the whole universe, filling emptiness, one with emptiness. It is without time or space, and has no passions, actions, ignorance, or knowledge. In it there are no things, no people, and no Buddhas; it contains not teh smallest hairbreadth of anything that exists objectively; it depends on nothign and is attached to nothing. It is all-pervading, radiant beauty; absolute reality, self existent and uncreated. How then can you doubt that the Buddha has no mouth to speak with nothing to teach, or that the truth is learned without learning, for who is there to learn?
He is a genius Mr. Huang-Po. When I read this I imagine him sitting in a field explaining all of his ideas to some sort of caterpillar, because I imagine that a caterpillar is about the only thing that would understand what he is trying to say.
Today I was discussing with Adam the relative sizes of average men and average women and how things would be different if women were substantially (and I mean substantially) bigger than men. We are not used to anything like this, because our men and women are approximately the same size. The same cannot be said, however, for Angler Fish, whose men are much much smaller than their women.
This arrangement is primarily due to the fact that Angler fish live in the Deep Dark Ocean. Down there, there is very little light, so it is extremely difficult to find a date. The phrase “there are many fish in the sea” does NOT apply to Angler fish.
Though the Angler fish man is small, he has a very powerful nose. In fact, he is so much nose that he has room for little else. For example: shortly after birth, his entire digestive system atrophies to the point where he can no longer eat. The only way for him to get any nutrients is to find a lady, and for that he must use his giant nose.
Yes: his survival is completely dependent on his ability to smell the stink of the female Angler fish.
He uses his nose to go around detecting in the Deep Dark Sea for delicious Angler fish ladies. Meanwhile, Angler fish mommas are sending copious amounts of pheromones into the surrounding water. If the gentleman is lucky, he will detect her stink on the ocean currents. Once he catches a wiff, he will have to hurry, because each Angler fish momma can only have one Angler fish boyfriend.
He will have to hurry, and flap his fins very hard—he is less than one-tenth her size, and the ocean is a big place.
When he finds her it is decision time. Since he has no guts, he will starve if he remains alone. If he bites on to her, he will be able to feed, but this will require some really serious sacrifices.
Thus, when an Angler fish man meets and Angler fish woman, he has to do some very heavy soul searching.
If he decides to go for it (which he always does),he will initiate the relationship by biting down on the lady’s body very hard, and releasing an enzyme which will dissolve not only her flesh, but his entire mouth and face. When the process is complete, he will be permanently fused to her bulbous body.
I am assuming that this would be quite a relief, because for the first time, he tastes sustenance in the form of Angeler-fish-woman-blood. To him, I suppose, this is delicious. At the same time, however, some really big changes are taking place in the relationship.
The fusing of their blood vessels, while romantic, has also sent the little Angler fish man down an irreversible path to destruction. Once fused to a lady, there is nothing he can do to halt the decomposition of his own body. The angler fish lady’s dominant metabolism will recycle and repurpose his entire body, with the exception of his tiny gonads, which will remain fused to the outside of her body, providing her an inexhaustible supply of sperm.
He will travel the Deep Dark Ocean as nothing but a shriveled mass of flesh, indeed, he will atrophy to such an extent that for years scientists will not even know that there is such a thing as an Angler Fish man, so puny is he in comparison to his bride.
Update: David Attenborough is very soothing and intelligent.
Update 2: Comment from my mother: “OK - but the angler fish thing. No doubt based on fact and (hopefully) unique in the animal world. But - one wonders why this particular image of the female has captured your imagination. Not to mention that I would say that the male is following the female angler fish’s scent and not her stink.”
“Lovers, oh night, have deserted their beds and gathered, oh night, and I among them. Yes, all of them left their beds and gathered to listen to Umm Kalthum.”
Umm Kalthum, “The Star of the East,” sings “Al Atlal” (the ruins).
Update: Hana has done some reading and has sent me additional knowledge about Umm Kalthum which is very interesting:
It is known that she had the ability to sing as low as the second octave, as well as the ability to sing as high as between the seventh and the eighth octaves at her vocal peak; yet she also could easily sing over a range surpassing two octaves near the end of her career. Her remarkable ability to produce approximately 14,000 vibrations per second with her vocal chords, her unparalleled vocal strength (no commercial microphone utilized for singing could withstand its strength, forcing her to stand at a 1- to 3-meter radius away from one), and her voice’s unique and breathtaking beauty that surpassed convention arguably made her the most incomparable voice of all time. With Her ability and capability to sing every single Arabic scale (more) makes her one of the 4 only women in the history of the Arab World to be able to do this along with Asmahan, Fairouz, and Sabah. source
Here is an article from Time regarding Um Kalthum’s funeral. In Cairo, I was also told that Umm Kalthum’s voice was so amazing that a group of researchers requested permission to analyze her vocal chords after her death. Since her Islam did not allow this, the exact source of her voice alluded direct scientific investigation.
Update II: Hana has sent me additional knowledge about Arabic music which is very fascinating and which I highly recommend. Look:
Arab classical music is known for its famed virtuoso singers, who sing long, elaborately ornamented, melismatic tunes, and who are known for driving audiences into ecstasy. Its traditions come from pre-Islam days, when female singing slaves entertained the wealthy, and inspired warriors on the battlefield with their rajaz poetry; the also performed at weddings and later, for the hajj. Male performers were limited to mukhanathin, or transvestite slaves, who were scorned by most Muslims. Early Islam largely looked down upon music, and considered it sinful and vile. Music in most of the Arab countries is entirely secular in nature.source
It was a small room. Inside, it was dim and filled with smoke. There were people, yes, and we could see them at first. Someone remarked upon the crowd; they were silent, staring, waiting. The music began with old fingers hitting old drums. The men playing them told us later that the rhythms they played had been passed down since the time of the Prophet; these were older than words, older than poetry and music and custom. The men were the first to vanish, though we didn’t see them disappear. The man with the cymbals let them rattle together and he began to spin: slowly at first and increasing at his own pace.
A spotlight was turned on, and she moved from a corner to the middle of the crowd. Her dress was both bright and dark, and it was laced by with coins from civilizations long vanished. She stood, she sang, and my eyes changed, making everyone but her appear as silhouettes. Only she was visible, even my own form had been obscured by the smoke and the sound of her voice in the small room.
Had her voice had a magical effect? Had we been bewitched, intoxicated? Or had their bodies always been nothing but outlines, and we the parties changed, our eyes aged as if by time at the sound of her voice
Wake up, wake up,
Sleeping butterfly,
And let us be companions!
-Basho
The flying butterfly:
I feel myself
A creature of dust.
-Issa
Of the second poem, Mr. R.H. Blythe (haiku expert) says:
Besides and beyond the dissatisfaction of the poet with himself, there is the light, free joyousness of the insect and that of Issa breaking through our heavy earthiness. He who feels himself a creature of dust has already passed beyond this state into a region of light and air.
The photo was taken secretly and swiftly at the Ye Olde Curiousity Shoppe in Seattle. That is a good place to be and I go there as often as possible to see the freak pig and flattened walrus face.
My friend Adam is raising has allowed someone to raise bees on the roof of his house. I think this is crazy but he is gaining interesting information from the experience. He sent me this video regarding incredible bee math:
He does not know it yet but later I will ask him (or the mysterious beekeeper Greg) to post information about the bees.
