LINE OF THE DAY, part XXXIX

From username Old wood commenting on this article:

 

"The exercise of freedom is always an act of sedition. Those who seek order and control will always question the rationality of acts of personal liberty, seeing them as completely unnecessary and disruptive. ... Tyranny exists because it provides the easiest path, the one we always follow. Liberty and self sufficiency is the hardest path of all and why it ultimately falls prey to corruption and finally tyranny."

CIRCADIAN RHYTHM AND BLUES...

     I was reading an article in Scientific American on the various internal clocks we have within our bodies. I think most of us are familiar with the circadian rhythm one, the master clock, in our brain that defines our sense of what a day is. It's nominally tied to the daily cycle of the sun but, as we all know, not all of us are exactly morning people. There are several groups of people following different internal days which can be fine if you find sympathetic friends and jobs around your sense of a day, otherwise you'll be tired all the time.

     As it turns out, there are other clocks in our bodies located variously in our livers, pancreases, and even fat cells all depending on feedback from the other clocks to tell them what to do. Once again, understanding what these clocks do fell upon the laboratory mouse.

     It was found that when one of these secondary clocks was damaged or disabled entirely, that it would have profound effects on the health of the mouse. For instance, when the pancreas's clock was disabled, their little mouse bodies would not secrete insulin. The pancreases in question were perfectly capable of producing and delivering insulin...they just didn't. The clocks within this organ needed to tell the pancreas when to secrete the chemical and this is important so that insulin isn't released when the mouse is sleeping which would drop its blood sugar to dangerously low, even fatal, levels. But since the organ was not able to interpret feedback from other organs about the mouse's internal day, it (I guess) always assumed the mouse was asleep.
     As a result, all these mice got diabetes.

     The liver's clock determined when the mouse should be producing or using glycogen and without that clock functioning, their livers kept producing the chemical and giving them a condition known as "fatty liver".

     The body clocks had other effects too. In another experiment, three groups of mice were used. Two groups were given high-fat diets. Of those two groups, one was fed during the mouse's normal sleep-wake cycles and the other group was fed at an irregular time for mice (they are nocturnal creatures so I'm assuming this meant during the daytime when they'd normally be sleeping). The third group was the control with a regular diet and regular sleep-wake cycle.
     The results I thought were interesting. The high-fat diet mice being fed at irregular hours, as one might assume, got fat. However, the other group of mice fed the same diet but at their regular times did not gain weight at all. The tentative conclusion being that WHEN you eat matters as much WHAT you eat.
     Timing is important.

     Although these results are hardly conclusive, it would seem imperative to figure out what would be considered optimum times for a human to eat and do those times change if you're more of an afternoon person than morning person?
     It certainly sounds tempting. A diet that requires little sacrifice in terms of what, only when. I guess, if you're predisposed to trying this out for yourself, that you should figure out which countries tend to have the leanest populations and try to figure out how, and more importantly when, they are eating first.
     The controls in this experiment would be the United States and Mexico. Those two countries presently have the highest percentage of overweight/obese people. Japan and Korea have the lowest incidences of obesity among wealthier nations (between 4-5%) as do the Scandinavian countries and Italy for Europe (about 10% each), so take your dieting lessons from them.

     The article also mentioned mood being affected by messing with our internal clocks. Specifically it mentioned depression being affected by the alteration of our sleep-wake cycles. It was a serendipitous find as it made me realize with a start that quite a number of my depressions have started on Wednesday...my first day back at work after two days off.
     Laughably that could be attributed to me not wanting to go to work or a case of "The Mondays" time-shifted to Wednesday but now I wonder... How much of that is me staying up really late on Monday so I can enjoy a normal Tuesday which in turn means forcing myself right back to a normal schedule via a long nap on Wednesday (I should mention I work overnights here and that being up in the overnight period on a day off, well...sucks).
     Am I exacerbating my depression fucking with my sleep-wake cycles like that? I'd hate for that to be true because I'm still going to have to do it, and frequently at that, if I ever expect to see friends or take care of errands. Is the high I experience on Tuesday the equivalent of a junk food high? That is, it feels good to have done so at the time but I'll end up paying for it later?

     I wonder...

LINE OF THE DAY, part XXXVIII

(from _VisualEffects on Reddit)

I've been paying attention to the Drone Program for years.

And it just makes me so sad.

9/11. The day Americans feel so strongly about that they say "Never forget". Saw around 2500 Americans killed. A tragedy for sure. But you've retaliated and killed over 50 fold as many innocent civilians abroad as retribution for this event.

How do you as a people walk around head held high, knowing that every few months you are committing a 9/11 event to other people. Imagine if the 9/11 terror attacks were happening in america every few months. Again and again, innocent people dying all around you. Your brothers and sisters. For no reason.

Think about this. If France gained intel that there was a possible terrorist target in a stabucks in downtown Manhattan. Based only on loose suspicion. And they used a drone to blow the building up killing 22 Americans. There would be public outrage demanding an apology and immediate action be taken to punish those in charge. It would be on every news channel. People would be mourning. News channels would say "never again can we let this happen".

And yet you just go around the rest of the world doing it on a weekly basis to other people and don't think twice about it.

It brings me to tears knowing how absolutely blasé you guys are about it.

To which mopecore replied:

Many of us are unable. Many of us watched 9/11, and accepted the government and media's definition of the attack as a act of war rather than a criminal action. A smaller portion, drifting along passively thought a major war was coming, that people we knew were going to fight and die. Some of us maybe worried about our younger brother being drafted, despite being in college. Now, it seems stupid, but in the 72 hours after 9/11, some Americans, maybe suffering from depression, certainly with a mind shaped by comic books and action movies, ate up the "us vs. them" good vs. evil rhetoric spouted by the cowboy in chief. After all, he was the president, and no matter how bright you might think yourself, you can still be swayed by passion and emotion, led to terrible decisions.

Some of us, therefore, left our dorm rooms, and walked down Main Street to the recruiter's office. Some of us were genuinely surprised the office wasn't full to bursting of young men eager to avenge their fallen countrymen. Some of us were genuinely surprised when we had to push the recruiter to stop trying to sell desk jobs and just let us join the damn Infantry.

Some of us got enlisted, then, and went down to Georgia, head high to mask the anxiety and fear they might have helped. Perhaps some number of Americans in this situation discovered that maybe it hadn't been the best idea, but would be goddamned if they were going to admit it, and let everyone back home smuggly remark on how right they were.

So they persevere. They learn to work as a unit, to look past personality issues, to see each other as Soldiers rather than as a race, or economic status, or any of the other things people hate about each other.

They learn to kill.

Then some of these people, perhaps while sitting hungover in the platoon area in the Republic of Korea hear that we have invaded Iraq. They have "Big Scary Bombs", and Saddam Hussein, the secular Arab dictator had somehow colluded with the devoutly religious OBL to attack the US. They hated our freedom, you see.

Then some of these young American men might transfer back to Georgia and be assigned to the 3rd Infantry Division, and end up in Iraq in January of 2005. And maybe these kids, still drunk on Fox News and fantasies of glory and renown being enough to win their ex-girlfriends back, are excited to go to Iraq. Sure, we hadn't found any WMDs yet, and we had Hussein in custody, but they were still somehow a threat and had to be dragged kicking and screaming into Jeffersonian democracy. Inside every dirka is a good American, yearning to be free.

So you fight. You kill. Watch friends die. Its usually quick, almost never quiet, but for the rest of your life, when you remember sitting at the bar with them, they're blown open. You picture the nights you spent downtown at Scruffy Murphy's, but instead of the stupid hookah shell necklace, your boy's jaw is blown off, and his left eye is ruined, and he's screaming.

You fight, you kill, you watch friends die, and you notice a distinct lack of change. You kick in doors and tell terrified women to sit on the floor while you and your friends ransack their home, tearing the place apart, because they might be hiding weapons. There is no reason to believe this house in particular is enemy, same for the next one, and the one after that, or the seven before; they just happened to be there, and maybe they had weapons. Probably not, they almost never did. There were a few times when we had deliberate raids based on solid intel and we'd turn up some stuff, but generally we were just tossing houses because we could.

Then maybe your FISTer forgets to carry the remainder, and drops a mess of mortars on the village your supposed to protect. Maybe the big Iraqi running at you screaming was just mentally ill. Of course, you won't know this until after you've but seven rounds through his ribcage, and his wailing, ancient mother is cradling his body, spitting at you.

Maybe when you get back to the FOB, the Platoon Sergeant tells you you did the right thing; next time, it might be a suicide bomber. They tell you it was an honest mistake, it wasn't your fault. They tell you to go get some chow, take a shower if the water works, and sleep it off. You did good work that day, apparently.

During chow, the TV is on AFN, and they are rebroadcasting some Fox News show, and you're hearing about drone strikes, and all the great things we're doing, and you can't help but see that poor dumb assholes face, looking past his mother as he bleeds to death. He's in pain, obviously, but he has the most perfectly confused look on his face. He doesn't comprehend what's happening. Little more hot sauce on your eggs doesn't really help.

Then you realize you haven't seen anything to support the idea that these poor fuckers are a threat to your home. You look around and you see all he contractors making six figure salaries to fix your shit, train Iraqis, maintain the ridiculous SUVs the KBR dicks ride around in. You consider the fact that every 25mm shell costs about forty bucks, and your company has been handing those fuckers out like shrapnel flavored parade candies. You think about all the fuel you're going through, all the ammo and missiles and grenades. You think about every time you lose a vehicle, the Army buys a new one. Maybe you start to see a lot of people making a lot of money on huge amounts of human suffering.

Then you go on leave, and realize that Ayn Rand has no idea what the fuck she's talking about. You realize that Fox News and Limbaugh and John McCain don't respect you or your buddies. They don't give a fuck if you get a parade or a box when you get home, you're nothing to them but a prop.

Then you get out, and you hate the news. You hate the apathy, and you hate the murder being carried out in your name. You grew up wanting so bad to be Luke Skywalker, but you realize that you were basically a Stormtrooper, a faceless, nameless rifleman, carrying a spear for empire, and you start to accept the startlingly obvious truth that these are people like you.

Maybe your heart breaks a little every time some asshole brags about a "successful" drone strike.

Your statement is correct enough; if all of America was one dude, that dude would not give a shit about the little brown people we're burning and crushing and choking to death. We aren't all like that, but it makes me incredibly, profoundly sad to see what my country actually is.

Some of us care, and I think there are more every day.

Damn...

As someone else wrote in the original post, it reminded him of the movie "Falling Down" when Michael Douglas's character had an epiphany and said aloud, "I'm the bad guy?".

"You grew up wanting so bad to be Luke Skywalker, but you realize that you were basically a Stormtrooper, a faceless, nameless rifelman, carrying a spear for empire..."

THAT'S SO RAVEN

     I think we all at some point in our lives give thoughts to what our superpowers might be if we could have them whether it be something as simple as the ability to fly or turn invisible or superstrength or whatnot. It seems the difficulty is avoiding taking on too many powers lest one become a kind of Mary Sue to his/her own private universe (or fictional universe one would wish to inhabit) and not something so awesomely impractical that it wouldn't have much use in one's superheroics or villainy (if that be your inclination).

     I find whenever my thinking takes me in such directions that my powers, while vaguely defined, frequently are associated with wind and shadows. I take my greatest (plagiaristic) inspirations for how these powers might manifest from the homunculus Pride in Full Metal Alchemist: Brotherhood and Aang, an airbender from Avatar: The Last Airbender.

     Imagery I associate with these thoughts feels typically defensive. I don't envision myself as strong but rather as nimble, defensive, versatile, and quiet. I see a lot of curves too rather than sharp angles. I guess wind would erode features so smooth structures would feel more fitting and less resistant.

     I see the substantiated shadows I employ as my primary, or at least my go-to (or crutch), power. I don't understand how they would work in real life. Cartoons have black shadows so it's easier to see them becoming solid. One thing that is always true is that, like shadows, I never see the points from me where this power emerges. It's always behind me (though it can quickly creep in front of me), emerging bubble-like if it comes out quickly or in a creeping fashion if I'm able to do so at my leisure. I can see it wrapping around me to act like an armor or to be conceal me in dark places or to even be employed as a crude shape-shifting ability. I suppose, if manifested properly, the shadows could also act as pseudo-telekinesis. That is, I could lift someone up or otherwise restrain them with fully substantiated (i.e. solid) tendrils of shadow.
     I guess, like Pride, places which are truly dark would upset this power. I would need a source of light to get it started and perhaps also to maintain it. I assume, also like the anime, it has upper and lower limits. Too dark and it cannot emerge; too light and it is overwhelmed and destroyed.
     Even though I could fashion the shadows into temporary cutting or stabbing weapons, I don't regularly envision myself doing that except when cornered. Either it takes a lot of effort to use them offensively (something I suspect) or I am simply uncomfortable employing them in that fashion.

     Honestly I see the shadowy aspect as a means for intimidation, like the way an animal raises its fur to give off the impression that it is larger than it really is, especially my real body is never seen by my target. I have the substantiation aspect in case that fails but I'm guessing, like a skunk's stinky spray, I would rather not use it. [ASIDE: if I recall correctly, the skunk's spray takes a few days to fully reload after using it so it would much rather use its warning colors than its weapon and face the coming days knowing it is ultimately defenseless if attacked]

     In that respect that is what I see my, for lack of a better term, airbending as too: an effort-driven manifestation that I would rather not have to use. On the surface I may use control over the gases around me as another form of intimidation, creating breezes where no breezes ought to be...or outright murder someone by emptying the air in a sphere around their bodies to suffocate them (or oppositely, filling them up like balloons 'til they burst). I feel I must also have control over the air because I typically envision myself in cold places. Whether that's because I've manipulated the temperature around me or that I've based myself in a cold place for comfort is unknown. I don't see why I shouldn't be able to manipulate the temperature of the air, at least to a limited degree, as changes in pressure affect temperature. But then that might be one power too many so I don't know.

     I primarily envision its use to forcefully push back anyone who's gotten too close to me. Again, a last ditch move and I always feel like it takes a lot out of me to do so. If able to concentrate I can see me summoning great vortices of air to act as a wall while leaving the area within such a vortex calm and breezeless. It might be possible to use the wind power for limited flight or, more likely, to enhance jumps both vertically and horizontally. It might also allow me to fall from great heights without dying by using blasts of wind at the last moments to slow my descent. Curiously I only ever see the vortices moving counterclockwise: I'm not sure what that means. Ultimately, though, the air manipulation ability may be more of a weakness, acting as a tell of my emotional state.

     I associate the air more with my anger than any other emotion and the shadows, with dominance. They could be used both for good or for evil, depending on which allegiance I would hold in whatever comic-book world I might find myself in. I find I'm attracted to these powers as they do not restrict my freedom of movement and as such, when my ability to move is threatened, it is then that they manifest most offensively.

     Additionally, the wind I've noticed is used to "inflate" the growing shadow behind me like a cobra's hood providing an area for stabbing tendrils to emerge and/or to protectively cloak me. Also, the shadow appears to be my animus because once emerged, I've noticed my body tends to remain in place as though it can no longer move. I guess like Pride, my body is my shadow's container and if my container were lost, my shadow self (my real self?) would die, thus its protective cloaking.

     My emotional state might also affect how the powers are used. That is, if I'm calm, that would be when I have the power over my shadow and when stressed, it would be the wind. Perhaps never both at the same time. In other words, if I'm using wind, I cannot employ my shadows and vice-versa. That actually might make a weird sort of sense, especially since it would weaken me (can't have a hero/villain that's too powerful now!) and cause me to consider strategy as well as for my opponents to consider their plans of attack since if I feel forced to use wind, my substantiated shadows would retract within me. The delay, that is while waiting for the shadows to fully retract since it would not be instantaneous, could also be something an opponent could exploit.
     Come to think of it, I don't ever envision myself using both powers simultaneously (although a blast of wind followed by a quickly manifested spear of shadow could result in an effective 1-2 combination).

     I think I also prefer not to act offensively because when I envision me taking such actions, they're never particularly accurate. There's either a swirling blast of wind hitting at everything in a ring around me (that's rarely ever taller than I am - the attacks are barely three dimensional) attempting to knock people off their feet or its multiple spears of shadow going only in the general direction of the target. Maybe since the shadows emerge behind me it's difficult to aim them? It could also be a lack of training...it's not like there are classes one could take to learn how to use such powers.

     I guess I would most likely be neutral, or attempt to be so, in such comic-book worlds because the powers do little to enhance my physical strength. It wouldn't make much sense to try and go up against a Superman, a Green Lantern, or a Batman. Given my mental state in life, I suppose the temptation to use these powers for evil would be ever-present. I think, if a villain, I would not be the actual supervillain but a top henchman, an emissary of the supervillain. And again, if a hero, I'd probably be the sidekick aiding the actual hero in realizing his/her vision. Regardless of allegiance, I'm not sure if I would ever find myself bound permanently to a side as my desire for freedom may prove overwhelming so attempts to box me in would only make me slip away...

     That in of itself is kinda weird. It's my own fantasy and I don't even give myself top billing :-)

     Okay, I'm done with my incoherent babbling. At least for today...

THE RADIOACTIVE LOTTERY...

     Radioactive elements have half-lives. That is, over a period of time specific to the radioactive isotope, half of the original sample will have decayed. Repeat that period and half of the remaining half will have decayed and so on.

     Now, I know I have to be wrong about this but nevertheless it remains a thought I've had because I don't know how to go about finding the answer to my question nor do I know if the answer would require knowledge of the kinds of mathematics that go WAY beyond my capacity to understand.

     The thing is, take a sample of the standard element for dating old organics: Carbon-14. 14C is radioactive and decays into stable nitrogen-14 via beta decay (that is, a neutron emits an electron and antineutrino, becoming a proton and upping the element by one). The half life of this isotope is approximately 5,730 years.

     Now here's the thing...

     After 5,730 years a sample of carbon-14, say ten pounds worth, will have gone through the first of its half-lives leaving five pounds of carbon-14 and five pounds of nitrogen-14. Now I'm guessing this might violate the Heisenberg Uncertainty Principle but if you could (somehow) isolate the half of the carbon-14 from the original ten pound sample that did not decay, would you now be in possession of a five pound sample of carbon-14 that is not radioactive? Or at least not radioactive for 5,730 years?

     I know the answer has to be no...but why is it no? I can't help but feel that if one could somehow be intuitive enough to separate such a sample that it could be done. I also think about stuff like Uranium-238 which has a half-life of almost 4½ billion years. I don't know when the first atoms of uranium were forged but I would have to assume with a half-life of that long, that atoms of uranium-238 from the first supernova that produced them way back when still exist.

     What makes certain radioactive atoms more stable than others? What about extremely radioactive elements like astatine which has no stable isotopes and the longest lived one is measured in hours? Are some of astatine-210's atoms (and I am probably using the wrong word) meta-stable and could conceivably last the lifetime of the universe?

      The nature of the basic math behind half-lives suggests that it is impossible to get rid of all the original sample. Atoms are small so if you have a mole of astatine-210 (which has never been witnessed by the way...I hear such a sample if it could somehow be synthesized would explode from the heat of its radioactivity), with a mole being some 6 x 10²³ atoms (a HUGE number), how many times could you divide such a sample in half and still be left with a number greater than 1? Maybe not as many times as I suspect (I don't feel like doing the algebra right now), but it would still be quite a number of divisions meaning some of those atoms will last a lot longer than 8.1 hours. Some potentially for years.

      I wonder why that is so? Why are some radioactive atoms more (temporarily) stable than others?