Come, let us hasten to a higher plane,
Where dyads tred the fairy fields of Venn,
Their indices bedecked from one to n,
Commingled in an endless Markov chain!
Come, every frustrum longs to be a cone,
And every vector dreams of matrices.
Hark to the gentle gradient of the breeze
It whispers of a more ergodic zone.
In Riemann, Hilbert or in Banach space
Let superscripts and subscripts go their ways.
Our asymptotes no longer out of phase,
We shall encounter, counting, face to face.
I'll grant thee random access to my heart,
Thou'lt tell me all the constants of thy love;
And so we two shall all love's lemmas prove,
And in our bound partition never part.
For what did Cauchy know, or Christoffel,
Or Fourier, or any Boole or Euler,
Wielding their compasses, their pens and rulers,
Of thy supernal sinusoidal spell?
Cancel me not--for what then shall remain?
Abscissas, some mantissas, modules, modes,
A root or two, a torus and a node:
The inverse of my verse, a null domain.
Ellipse of bliss, converge, O lips divine!
The product of our scalars is defined!
Cyberiad draws nigh, and the skew mind
Cuts capers like a happy haversine.
I see the eigenvalue in thine eye,
I hear the tender tensor in thy sigh.
Bernoulli would have been content to die,
Had he known such a^2 cos(2 \phi) !
A dozen, a gross, and a score
Plus three times the square root of four
Divided by seven, plus five times eleven
Is nine squared and not a bit more!
~
The integral t squared dt
From one to the cube root of three
Times the cosine of three pi over nine
Is the log of the cube root of e
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Psychiatric medications can interfere with the body's ability to regulate temperature, and most patients don't know, experts say.
Just a little PSA for all our mental health (and chronic pain*) spoonies out there! A lot of doctors neglect to mention this little side effect, which means a lot of us are suffering extra from the heat without knowing why.
*Many psych meds are used to treat chronic pain as well, if you didn’t know!
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This Fourth of July, I ask that you support Native Hawaiian independence.
The Kingdom of Hawai’i was illegally overthrown with the help of American businessmen and we have suffered under the iron grip of America.
Our land is simply seen as a vacation spot, my people are simply seen as tour guides and hula dancers. We have had our culture, our history, and our people turned into a commercialized joke by America.
The rampant tourism kills our islands with endless hotels, attractions and overcrowding. The housing and living costs are out of control because of the false “paradise” narrative. The Navy poisons our water and destroys our land. Covid has killed so many of my people due to the reckless and selfish nature of tourists. I have lost loved ones to this virus, because tourists “couldn’t stay away”.
My people have suffered. I have suffered.
We are more than your vacation. We are more than an aesthetic.
We are a sovereign nation illegally occupied by the United States of America.
Restore Hawai’i to Hawaiians. End the American Occupation.
See the links below to learn more and to read up on your Hawaiian history.
Americans overthrow Hawaiian monarchy | HISTORY
Hawaiian scholar Dr. Jonathan Kay Kamakawiwoʻole Osorio explains the movement asking the United States to return the lands taken during a 18
‘Āina Momona is a Native Hawaiian led community organization dedicated to environmental sustainability, food security and resilience, and so
The United States Navy has a history of terrorism in Hawaiʻi (and throughout the world). In 1940 the Navy started to build the Red Hill Fuel
The latest number brings the statewide total since the start of the pandemic to 308,695.
You have one super power: The ability to know without fail what the truth is to any asked question. You planned to help the world as a super hero. It took you six hours for the government to declare you public enemy number one and the most deadly super villain alive.
It’s called the Gift of Perfect Knowledge. Of course, this is because someone once asked me “Hey, what’s your superpower?” and the name popped right up as it always did. I wonder if that means my superpower named itself. I’ve never had the courage to ask.
I made a part two! Thank you all for all the kind words!
The ideal thing about living almost full time in the middle of Canada’s boreal forest in a remote wildfire lookout tower is being the only soul around for hundreds of miles. No one except the occasional extremely determined and experienced hiker comes out this far on a four day three night expedition and they never stay long here. At least, that’s what usually happens.
Today has decided to be different because he has decided to be different. Whoever he is, he probably knows exactly who I am and what I can do because he walked right into the minimum distance of my telepathy and just…stopped. Normally, that’s not a problem, people take breaks all the time and the base of the tower is technically a trail marker though I’m not obligated to talk to anyone.
The first real hint that something is wrong when I get into Jackson’s lookout tower isn’t that the door is unlocked, it’s that he’s asleep on his back when I know for a fact that he’s a side sleeper. He’s tucked up tight into his cot even though it’s August and not having a restful sleep based on the pinched eyebrows on his face. There’s a closed leather book on his stomach; at first, I think it’s his journal but the letter on top addressed to me with my full name—which Jackson knows better than to use—and not written in his terrible chicken scratch says otherwise. Taped to it is a small pill container with a single, unremarkable, grey stone inside. A pebble, really.
There are no signs of a struggle, but Jax was always a light sleeper; he shouldn’t be this out of it when I’m making no effort to be quiet. Something happened and it happened because of me, but who would have known I was coming? Or was this left knowing Jax would reach out to me?
"Your most important survival skill is asking for help."
THIS, it makes me so damn pissed off when parents try and normalize that asking for help is a taboo thing!
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Sometimes math is bad and then sometimes you’ll come across a little guy like ŷ which is a predicted value and learn that it’s called y-hat. ‘Cause he’s got a little hat. And then math’s not so bad.
“Get help,” Palpatine said. “You’re no match for him. He’s a Sith Lord.”
Obi-Wan turned to look at the Chancellor. “...yes?” he said. “But he’s also something else – something I’m surprised you’ve forgotten.”
“What?” Palpatine asked.
“A politician,” Obi-Wan replied, turning back to Dooku.
Anakin groaned, then sat down.
“Here we go,” he said.
Palpatine blinked, looking from Anakin to Obi-Wan.
“...what do you mean, Anakin?” he asked.
“This happens sometimes,” Anakin replied. “How do you think he got his nickname?”
“Count,” Obi-Wan said, at about the same time. “It’s occurred to me that I never actually found out what the Confederacy wants.”
“Isn’t it a little late for this?” Dooku asked. “We have been at war for several years.”
“True,” Obi-Wan conceded, readily. “The war having started on Geonosis, because of tracing back your clone army which we… appear to have appropriated, mostly because you did it in our name. But that’s how the war started – not your objectives.”
Dooku was silent for a moment.
“I assume some semblance of a point will be emerging,” he said, eventually. “If you could be so kind as to provide it?”
“Wars begin for all sorts of reasons,” Obi-Wan replied. “But how they end… they end because a mutual settlement has been reached. And it’s occurred to me that I don’t know what you’d want out of a victory.”
He spread his hand, the one not holding the – unlit – saber. “It’s not the conquest of the Republic, I can tell that much. If the CIS annexed the Republic, what you’d have would still be the Republic, just under a different name… it’s not the Republic without the corruption that’s been causing it problems, because most of the corruption in the Republic was – was – the big industrial concerns like the Techno Union, Commerce Guild, Trade Federation. But you seem to have taken all of those off our hands, and they provide essentially your entire military so I don’t think anyone else could honestly believe that either.”
“I wouldn’t expect a Jedi to understand,” Dooku replied. “The Confederacy’s member systems have concerns relating to over-centralization.”
Obi-Wan stared at him for a long moment.
“...no they don’t,” he said.
“I hardly think you can have earned your reputation as a negotiator, Kenobi, if you are so willing to be insulting,” Dooku said, archly.
“That’s not what I mean,” Obi-Wan replied. “I mean… yes, now the Republic has an army, though really it’s actually the Jedi’s army and we’re simply letting them borrow it, but four years ago the Galactic Republic was proverbially incapable of doing anything. It took emergency powers for the Chancellor to get the Republic to authorize having any kind of military whatsoever – and the only one available was the one you ordered. That’s not over-centralization.”
He drummed his fingers on his ‘saber. “And I note that I overheard Nute Gunray insisting on the head of Senator Amidala – literally, in those words – as his price for signing a treaty. But I still haven’t heard an actual answer. What does the Galaxy look like if the Confederacy wins?”
Dooku frowned, and after about three seconds Obi-Wan glanced at the Chancellor.
“Didn’t you discuss this at any point, your excellency?” he asked. “Count Dooku doesn’t seem to have thought about this.”
Palpatine blinked.
“...he’s a Sith Lord,” he repeated. “Shouldn’t you be fighting him?”
“It’s called diplomacy, Chancellor,” Obi-Wan replied, before returning his attention to Dooku. “Grandmaster, are you seriously telling me that you never thought about what you would do if you won?”
Anakin checked his comlink, for the time, then the ship trembled slightly.
“Artoo?” he asked. “Can you tell those ships outside to stop shooting at us and give us a wide berth? This could take hours and I don’t want to find out if my name’s literal.”
“Hours?” Palpatine repeated.
“He’s rolling,” Anakin replied, rolling his eyes. “Like I say, I’m used to this.”
He rummaged in a pocket of his robes, taking out a miniature toolkit, and began disassembling his lightsaber. “I’m pretty sure I can retune these crystals to give two stable configurations which it’ll snap between, that should give me a length toggle instead of a single adjustable length…”
“Are you taking your lightsaber apart?” Palpatine hissed. “What if you need to fight?”
“It’s okay, Chancellor, I’ll get about five minutes’ warning if the negotiations are going downhill,” Anakin replied. “That should be time to put it back together again…”
Palpatine looked up to Obi-Wan, who – sure enough – was still going.
“...of course, a separate but related issue is what it’s going to be like afterwards,” Obi-Wan said. “In principle the Republic and the Jedi Order could probably accept the existence of Sith so long as we actually knew who they were and they weren’t trying to destroy us. It’s the fact that the first Sith we met in a thousand years tried to run Anakin over and cut Qui-Gon’s head off as an opening move that’s soured us towards them a bit… but are you really going to be content as someone whose whole job is to die for Sidious?”
Dooku stared at Obi-Wan, baffled, then glanced at Palpatine and Anakin.
“What do you mean?” he asked, forcing his gaze back to Obi-Wan.
“Sidious is your Master, we know that much,” Obi-Wan replied. “Partly because you told me yourself. But has he ever put himself in danger? Or has it all been you dealing with Jedi like myself and my apprentice? Putting yourself out there, in danger, while you do exactly what he says?”
He smiled slightly. “A Jedi would accept that, but you’re a Sith – you’ve said so yourself. Sith are self-interested. What do you think your new master is getting out of the situation? Because if you don’t know, it’s got to be something and it’s probably something he doesn’t want to tell you.”
“My master is quite willing to put himself in danger,” Dooku said, then clamped his lips shut at a frantic mouthed shut up from Palpatine.
“Real or feigned?” Obi-Wan asked. “Do you think he wouldn’t manipulate you? He’s been doing it to everyone else – you’ve said it.”
Dooku’s brow furrowed.
“But we’re getting off topic,” Obi-Wan said, turning to look at Palpatine. “Chancellor, what about this as a starting point? Your emergency powers were granted to resolve the crisis, and I’m sure you want to abandon them as soon as possible… so why not take away the whole reason why the individual systems in the Confederacy had problems with the Republic to begin with? Freely allow the departure of any system which wishes to do so, under the emergency powers legislation; enact a progressive tax, one which hits the Core worlds harder owing to their greater ability to pay, to sustain a carrier based navy able to hunt pirates more effectively than conduct occupations or orbital bombardment, and have the navy established on a sector-federal two-level model?”
Palpatine stared at Obi-Wan for at least ten seconds.
“...he’s a Sith Lord,” he said, yet again.
“Oh, shut up,” Dooku replied. “You’re a Sith Lord and I don’t see you doing anything constructive.”
Obi-Wan glanced at Palpatine.
“...you know,” he began. “I’m quite sure you’d need to note that on your financial disclosure forms, your Excellency.”
He turned sideways, so he could see both Dooku and Palpatine at the same time. “What was the point of this whole abduction, anyway?”
“As it happens, I was supposed to kill you,” Dooku said. “It’s the only way to turn Anakin to the Dark Side, if you’re out of the way.”
“Huh?” Anakin asked. “Is something up? I’ve almost got the crystals realigned.”
“This plan looked a lot better this morning,” Palpatine muttered.
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Basically I think that part of the problem driving the culture war is that things that were formerly said by members of an in-group about members of an outgroup behind their backs are now being said in a permanent form that is accessible to all over social media, and this makes people hate each other way more than they otherwise would and harden against one another. I don't think it's useful to look at it in terms of individual virtue, you need to look at social dynamics.
There's a huge difference between "own space" conversations and "public space" conversations that has just gotten lost in the age of social media. Like, there are tons of shared experiences and implied caveats and even baseline understanding that you can assume in an in-group space that get lost in public spaces. And that's before you get into things like in-group venting, where you might just need to say something in the most shitty, un-nuanced, unpolished way to vent your spleen, whereas in mixed company you'd want to spend more time to ensure you're expressing things correctly.
And now more and more people have grown up online and never really had access to private own spaces, and feel like having those conversations in public spaces is natural and correct. So the orthodoxy becomes that, actually, real allies can hear any amount of shitty, cruel, thoughtless shit about themselves and it will never affect them. Actually, if there's any amount of cruelty that can drive you out of a community, then you were always a fake. Or, conversely, that you must always tone police yourself forever. That anything shitty, said off the cuff in frustration, represents your truest, most genuine self. Any more measured and nuanced thought is the mask, your worst self is mask off.
Nobody is their best self all the time, people experience emotions and need to vent, but having our rawest moments be in public spaces instead of own spaces is bad for everyone.
you know, looking back, "Trouble at the Town Gate" and "Agatha vs. The Jagers" are probably the two sections I end up the most excited to come back to during a reread and i think i just figured out why
Agatha in these moments is starting to embrace her heritage, both halves of it, and use it in her own way
"Hanging Jagers in Town" is always a treat since Yay! Da Boiz! But Agatha, on account of not wanting to blow cover with her big fancy new legacy, doesn't react much. But that night when Jinka attacks to cut Da Boiz down in "Trouble at the Town Gate", thats when she first consciously and willfuly uses the Heterodyne legacy to her advantage by making the Boiz sware on it to do exactly as she says. Dimo commenting that what she did was very smart, Maxum calling her Mistress so quickly, then the Boiz doing just as she asked without any additional damages reinforces to both Agatha and the reader that she did exactly the correct actions to be a Hero and a Heterodyne (especially when you reread and realize what she said and how she said it echos the ritual of the JagerBruw!!!)
By "Agatha vs. The Jagers" she not only feels comfortable enough in her Spark to keep Fuging infront of them but also safe enough around them to bap Maxums hat (which by now she is well aware how important a hat is to Jagers) and also get all Mad Girl right back at Maxum snarling simply because they are bothering her. Once again Maxum reinforces that this was the correct action by imeditly backing off, kneeling, and calling her Mistress again. Then once they explain what they are here for and why they are here and not with the Baron we get to my favorite moment:
Oggie crying on Agatha.
Why is it my favorite moment? Because she holds him (a big scary Jager!), she lets him cry (lets him be weak!), and she only hesitates for a surprised half second in reasuring him that she Is real.
That moment, that "I-I Am" , is when she becomes The Heterodyne to both Da Boiz and me.
Her projection in Sthatlehime, Showtime, the taking of The Castle, the Doom Bell, and her declaration on the roof are all great moments of her asserting her status as The Big Loud Dangerous Heterodyne Spark!
But they don't capture how shes gentle in ways other Heterodyne's wernt, how much she loves whats hers and how much they love her back
For Love and Loyalty you know?
UristInArmok 77 @drlagrangian - Tumblr Blog | Tumlook
