Wow, what a great experience last night. It was so refreshing to be in the presence of highly intelligent, competent, enthusiastic people pursuing science for it's own sake, attempting to discover the secrets of the universe by reaching beyond our own planet and into the inner edge of our solar system. Sean Solomon is a role model for all human beings.
Here are a few things I learned...
- A while ago, NASA approved nine big ticket projects collectively known as the Discovery Program, one of which was the Rovers on Mars. One of which was the space craft called "Messenger" which is tasked with achieving orbit around Mercury and gathering data.
- the last space ship sent to explore Mercury was many years ago. It was a straight shot from Earth towards Mercury. Late in the project a European mathematician explained how it would be possible for them to actually loop around Mercury so they could get two whole passes at the planet before it fell into the sun (or smashed on the planet's surface... wasn't clear what it's fate was). This flight took about 6 or 8 months of travel.
- To achieve a true orbit around Mercury, Messenger needs to be launched at a high speed (just to get off the earth, then to not get sucked into the sun, etc). Then it has to decelerate at 100Km/s... not mile per hour or meters per second, but Km per second... that's a daunting amount of deceleration. It can't be done practically with thrusters. So they chose to use a more elegant solution. The ship first circled the Earth, twice, decelerating on each pass. Then it circled Venus, twice, decelerating again each pass. Then it circled Mercury once, decelerating yet again... and started to send us data on Mercury at that time. In approximately 6 months time, the Mercury Orbit Insertion will be attempted, and if all goes well, it will remain in orbit around Mercury for several years until they run out of propellant needed to make the fine adjustments. At that time, the sun's gravity will influence the orbit and it will crash on the surface of Mercury.
- This circuitous journey is taking 6 years of travel time.
- The mission is funded for one year after the insertion date, and they hope to be extended for some time after that if the data collection is going well.
- Right now they expect to get as close as 200 Km away from the surface of the planet. They hope, towards the end, to attempt to get even closer.
- The ship had to be designed to deal with the extreme heat. Thanks to a ceramic curtain on one side, the craft will exceed 700 degrees Fahrenheit on one side facing the sun and will remain at room temperature on the other side facing Mercury. That's where the electronics and data gathering equipment (the payload) reside.
- This payload consists of about 12 devices including a high resolution camera, a magnetometer, several spectrometers, and a few things I won't remember... but sound really really cool.
- From the one spin around the planet, we have already gathered an immense amount of data including high res images (as in, this is what you would really see with your eyes if you were there), maps of the small magnetic field, composition of the atmosphere (not technically called an atmosphere as it is not dense enough... the atoms contained don't interact and are unaware of each other's presence... similar to the outer edge of Earth's atmosphere), maps of elements from the solar wind as it passes around Mercury, mineral distribution on the surface, maps of volatile compounds being emitted from the planet, evidence of volcanic activity as seen by huge impact craters that seem to be filling themselves in over time (billions of years) and even pouring over their edges, various topographical features indicating tectonic activity...
- We are going to learn a hell of a lot about planets in general, and Mercury in particular over the next couple of years.
- When you gather amazing people from many different disciplines in science, you can do mind-bendingly amazing things.
- This is a great time to be alive.
Tuesday, July 27, 2010
Thursday, February 18, 2010
Across The Universe
Picked this up cheap on Blu-Ray at Costco. I saw some clips on YouTube and figured it was worth watching. I will give it a "should see", especially to music fans, pop culture fans, 1960's gurus, film enthusiasts, and lovers of choreography. For Beatles fans, this is a "must see"... though any true Beatles fan has already seen it, and doesn't need me to tell you that. I would put this as a modern version of the movie "Hair", but with all the music selected from The Beatles' extensive catalog.
The original Broadway play "Hair" did not have contain a narrative, but was a collage of songs, dances, and essays; the movie took those elements and wrapped them loosely around a plot. This is essentially what happens in "Across the Universe". A group of characters meet up and interact as music and dance occurs around them, sometimes occurring within the reality of the movie (such as performances by Sexy Sadie), but more often in typical musical fashion where they just break into song and dance as the plot is revealed.
This is certainly a quality production on many levels. The dancing and singing is quite good, the camera work is very imaginative, the choreography is also innovative and well executed. The script contains uncountable references to Beatles lyrics on top of the fact that all the characters take their names from Beatles tunes. There are also infinite references to various pop culture icons and events of the era. Of course the War in Vietnam is a central theme, the burning of draft cards, Yippies marching in the streets with analogous characters to Abbie Hoffman and other real life people, a scene from an "Electric Cool-Aid" party where you can see a Gerry Garcia-like character, an Allen Ginsberg, and many others.
Oddly enough, though certainly a conscious effort, there are many drug references yet the characters do not themselves partake. They mime smoking weed, but say things like "I don't even smoke". They do, however, drink beer.
The movie is speckled with well known celebrities such as Joe Cocker, Bono and Eddie Izzard (Brit comedian).
There are some anachronistic elements, such as musical interpretations that just didn't exist back then... like a bit of heavy punk-ish sounds, and general singing styles that didn't come into popularity until much later. But this is not really a problem as this is not a historical piece, it is a modern interpretation of the 60's era.
Lots of "making of" features on the Blu-Ray, director's commentary, detailed commentary on the correography, and all that good stuff. This works pretty well as a movie, and pretty well as a video album.
I recommend experiencing this one through a good audio system. I'm not sure it would hold up over plain old TV speakers. Swing on by if you want to have a look.
The original Broadway play "Hair" did not have contain a narrative, but was a collage of songs, dances, and essays; the movie took those elements and wrapped them loosely around a plot. This is essentially what happens in "Across the Universe". A group of characters meet up and interact as music and dance occurs around them, sometimes occurring within the reality of the movie (such as performances by Sexy Sadie), but more often in typical musical fashion where they just break into song and dance as the plot is revealed.
This is certainly a quality production on many levels. The dancing and singing is quite good, the camera work is very imaginative, the choreography is also innovative and well executed. The script contains uncountable references to Beatles lyrics on top of the fact that all the characters take their names from Beatles tunes. There are also infinite references to various pop culture icons and events of the era. Of course the War in Vietnam is a central theme, the burning of draft cards, Yippies marching in the streets with analogous characters to Abbie Hoffman and other real life people, a scene from an "Electric Cool-Aid" party where you can see a Gerry Garcia-like character, an Allen Ginsberg, and many others.
Oddly enough, though certainly a conscious effort, there are many drug references yet the characters do not themselves partake. They mime smoking weed, but say things like "I don't even smoke". They do, however, drink beer.
The movie is speckled with well known celebrities such as Joe Cocker, Bono and Eddie Izzard (Brit comedian).
There are some anachronistic elements, such as musical interpretations that just didn't exist back then... like a bit of heavy punk-ish sounds, and general singing styles that didn't come into popularity until much later. But this is not really a problem as this is not a historical piece, it is a modern interpretation of the 60's era.
Lots of "making of" features on the Blu-Ray, director's commentary, detailed commentary on the correography, and all that good stuff. This works pretty well as a movie, and pretty well as a video album.
I recommend experiencing this one through a good audio system. I'm not sure it would hold up over plain old TV speakers. Swing on by if you want to have a look.
Tuesday, February 9, 2010
Bizarre occurance on my way to Florida
Finally got around to writing this one up...
So I guess I bit off a bit more than I could chew on my trip to Florida at the end of January. I was leaving on a flight from McArthur Airport on Wednesday at 4:10. So in the best of all worlds, I should have been at the airport at 2:10. But I had noticed that the registration on my car was about to expire, and since I had recently changed license plates, I really wanted to go to DMV in person to be sure all went smoothly. How long could it POSSIBLY take to get my car registered anyway? Half an hour? Forty minutes? An hour? OK, so I budgeted a good hour and a half and gave myself some wiggle room on top of that. I was all packed and ready to go. Just had to get the reggie, and drive 45 minutes to an hour over to Islip.
At the Yonkers DMV I got my form and my "deli" ticket... I was number C706. Checking the light board I saw C660. OK, so I guess there were about 46 people in front of me. Or perhaps more than that, but 46 people in front of me who were there to register their cars? So I sit and wait... and wait... and I see that their are lots of other numbers being called, that begin with A, B, D, E, F, G, H, and I. Oh bloody hell... there could be NINE TIMES forty six people in front of me... and apparently there were. Two and a half hours later, they are up to C700, but I could not wait for one second longer. I would miss my flight. So I ran out of there as angry as a human could be, without actually killing somebody.
Mind you, I was sitting there ready to go with my license, old registration, insurance card, form, and debit card all in my nice little folder ready to just drop at the desk. I shouldn't have had to say a word, and the transaction should have taken about 5-7 minutes.
So out I ran, and headed towards Islip. My travel mate, Corey, assured me that McArthur Airport security is pretty lax, that the place is more like a bus terminal than an airport, and that it's quick to get in and out. Still, I was seriously pressed for time at this point. The plan all along was to leave my car at Corey's house, and have his wife Dom drop us off at the airport. On the way I called ahead and Corey was nervous... he said he's gonna have Dom drop him off at the airport, and then she could make a second trip with me if I got there in time. There was traffic on the Throg's Neck Bridge, but I made good time on the L.I.E. I pulled up to Dom and Corey's house as Dom was on her way back from her first trip. Five minutes later, I'm on my way to the airport, Dom laughing at me the whole time for being so predictably late.
Well I got to the airport a good 20 minutes before the plane was supposed to take off. Corey was right... curb side check-in was a breeze. I gave my bag and told him my name, and had my boarding pass printed up in seconds... keeping my backpack of electronics with me.
So now I'm doing the "Go OJ" through the airport up to security. HERE's where it gets weird.
So I come up to the security maze and pull out my wallet to get out my license. OMFG !!! My license NEVER leaves my wallet... where the HELL is my license ?!?!? Nooooooo... it's in the folder in the compartment of my car along with the DMV form and my insurance card.
So I guess that's it.. there's no way to get my ID in time to catch the flight... and BOY am I gonna hear it from Dom. So this TSA uniform guy sees the look of panic on my face and says "What's the matter son?" Mind you, he was about my age. So I say "I left my license in the car back at the house." He asks, "Well, what DO you have? You got a Costco card???" I simply don't believe he just said that. It's just too surreal to believe. I said "Yeah I have a Costco card... I got credit cards... got a New Jersey boating safety certificate (stamped with the State of NJ seal), etc..."
He looks at my stuff and grills me for about a minute... "You live in New York but your boating certificate if from NJ?? Where are you going anyway? What for? When will you be back???" Apparently I did OK and he could tell that I was not a sweating stammering underwear bomber... though I was nervous as hell and completely upset with myself.
He said "OK, I'm convinced that you are who you say you are. Let me sign off on this boarding pass" as he scribbles with his pen. He said "I don't know what will happen on the other side when you make the return trip, though." He then unhooks the velvet rope and lets me to the front of the line for security check. I unload all my gear into bins, zip through the check point, pack up my gear, and head to the gate.
I still can't believe it happened. I meet up w/ Corey and Ant and we still have 15 minutes before the plane starts to board. I'm totally convinced that any second somebody is gonna come by and say "Would you step over here sir..." but it never happened. In fact, once on the plane, the 4:10 flight actually was IN THE AIR at 4:13. I said "What happened to the 45 minute approach to the runway?" Corey assured me that that NEVER happens at McArthur.
Eventually after a few minutes in the air I finally convinced myself that this was not a dream, ant that this actually happened. BTW: Dom overnighted my license to me. And it's a good thing she did, because there was NO WAY I could have gotten through Tampa airport without it... never mind the obvious fact that this COULD NOT happen at LGA or JFK.
So I guess I bit off a bit more than I could chew on my trip to Florida at the end of January. I was leaving on a flight from McArthur Airport on Wednesday at 4:10. So in the best of all worlds, I should have been at the airport at 2:10. But I had noticed that the registration on my car was about to expire, and since I had recently changed license plates, I really wanted to go to DMV in person to be sure all went smoothly. How long could it POSSIBLY take to get my car registered anyway? Half an hour? Forty minutes? An hour? OK, so I budgeted a good hour and a half and gave myself some wiggle room on top of that. I was all packed and ready to go. Just had to get the reggie, and drive 45 minutes to an hour over to Islip.
At the Yonkers DMV I got my form and my "deli" ticket... I was number C706. Checking the light board I saw C660. OK, so I guess there were about 46 people in front of me. Or perhaps more than that, but 46 people in front of me who were there to register their cars? So I sit and wait... and wait... and I see that their are lots of other numbers being called, that begin with A, B, D, E, F, G, H, and I. Oh bloody hell... there could be NINE TIMES forty six people in front of me... and apparently there were. Two and a half hours later, they are up to C700, but I could not wait for one second longer. I would miss my flight. So I ran out of there as angry as a human could be, without actually killing somebody.
Mind you, I was sitting there ready to go with my license, old registration, insurance card, form, and debit card all in my nice little folder ready to just drop at the desk. I shouldn't have had to say a word, and the transaction should have taken about 5-7 minutes.
So out I ran, and headed towards Islip. My travel mate, Corey, assured me that McArthur Airport security is pretty lax, that the place is more like a bus terminal than an airport, and that it's quick to get in and out. Still, I was seriously pressed for time at this point. The plan all along was to leave my car at Corey's house, and have his wife Dom drop us off at the airport. On the way I called ahead and Corey was nervous... he said he's gonna have Dom drop him off at the airport, and then she could make a second trip with me if I got there in time. There was traffic on the Throg's Neck Bridge, but I made good time on the L.I.E. I pulled up to Dom and Corey's house as Dom was on her way back from her first trip. Five minutes later, I'm on my way to the airport, Dom laughing at me the whole time for being so predictably late.
Well I got to the airport a good 20 minutes before the plane was supposed to take off. Corey was right... curb side check-in was a breeze. I gave my bag and told him my name, and had my boarding pass printed up in seconds... keeping my backpack of electronics with me.
So now I'm doing the "Go OJ" through the airport up to security. HERE's where it gets weird.
So I come up to the security maze and pull out my wallet to get out my license. OMFG !!! My license NEVER leaves my wallet... where the HELL is my license ?!?!? Nooooooo... it's in the folder in the compartment of my car along with the DMV form and my insurance card.
So I guess that's it.. there's no way to get my ID in time to catch the flight... and BOY am I gonna hear it from Dom. So this TSA uniform guy sees the look of panic on my face and says "What's the matter son?" Mind you, he was about my age. So I say "I left my license in the car back at the house." He asks, "Well, what DO you have? You got a Costco card???" I simply don't believe he just said that. It's just too surreal to believe. I said "Yeah I have a Costco card... I got credit cards... got a New Jersey boating safety certificate (stamped with the State of NJ seal), etc..."
He looks at my stuff and grills me for about a minute... "You live in New York but your boating certificate if from NJ?? Where are you going anyway? What for? When will you be back???" Apparently I did OK and he could tell that I was not a sweating stammering underwear bomber... though I was nervous as hell and completely upset with myself.
He said "OK, I'm convinced that you are who you say you are. Let me sign off on this boarding pass" as he scribbles with his pen. He said "I don't know what will happen on the other side when you make the return trip, though." He then unhooks the velvet rope and lets me to the front of the line for security check. I unload all my gear into bins, zip through the check point, pack up my gear, and head to the gate.
I still can't believe it happened. I meet up w/ Corey and Ant and we still have 15 minutes before the plane starts to board. I'm totally convinced that any second somebody is gonna come by and say "Would you step over here sir..." but it never happened. In fact, once on the plane, the 4:10 flight actually was IN THE AIR at 4:13. I said "What happened to the 45 minute approach to the runway?" Corey assured me that that NEVER happens at McArthur.
Eventually after a few minutes in the air I finally convinced myself that this was not a dream, ant that this actually happened. BTW: Dom overnighted my license to me. And it's a good thing she did, because there was NO WAY I could have gotten through Tampa airport without it... never mind the obvious fact that this COULD NOT happen at LGA or JFK.
Wednesday, January 20, 2010
The Saga Continues
So yesterday I went to take care of the Manhattan leg of my car ticket woes. Already took care of Yonkers last week. I was enlightened, disgusted, relieved, and befuddled.
Quick recap (not posted on this blog, sorry)... my front license plate had been missing, and I got a few tickets before I realized it was gone, and another after I got new plates, but before I could get the front plate mounted on my bumper. Had one Spanish guy at the local auto parts store try to screw it into my metal bumper and then had to attempt to explain that he would actually need a drill to do it because the bumper is not plastic. Finally got J and Tray's guy in Riverdale to do it.
So the plan was to plead to the judge that I got four tickets for the same offense, tried hard to get it fixed as soon as possible, and made all attempts to rectify the situation. So the day before, I checked online to see if there was any info I might be able to use to make my case. HOLY CHRIST ON A CRACKER !!! There were SEVEN additional tickets that I didn't know about. I had almost $1000 of outstanding fines. I'm AMAZED my car had not been towed. I immediately brought the car to the parking garage so the sharks w/ the tow trucks didn't scoop me up. All these tickets were BEFORE the first ticket I had ever seen for the missing plate... they were parking IN MY NEIGHBORHOOD, double parking, alternate side parking, missing registration and inspection, and missing front plate. HUH? I didn't do any of those things... except missing front plate. Further scrutiny of the tickets (immaged online) and I saw the vehicle description... Blue Ford Pickup !!! I drive a BLACK JEEP !!! Now it all makes sense. Bucci called it right away, though it never occurred to me... somebody either swiped my plate off my car, or off the ground, and slapped it on the back of his unregistered vehicle and parked wherever he felt like parking. I wish I checked the vehicle description on my Yonkers tickets... wish the judge bothered to look too. Some of the NYC tix had a note saying VIN not visible, but two of them had a VIN listed which was NOT mine.
OK, so here's where it gets weird. Down at 66 John Street to the NYC department of finance where you can adjudicate your tickets and pay your fines. First step they send you to a window to get a printout of all your tickets. Next you go to the waiting area where you read the posters which detail the procedure. You have TWO CHOICES. First you go to a clerk, not a judge, and (s)he will automatically offer you a significant reduction of your fines (for most offenses). Then you can choose to take this reduced fine, OR go see the judge. The judge is not allowed to reduce the fines. He can dismiss the ticket or uphold the ticket. It's an actual gamble that you are taking.
So, before I get to the clerk/judge, there's the incompetent lady. She's got the clip board, calls the numbers, ushers people into seats where you wait for the clerk. She tells me, "fill out this form, go down this hall and have a seat". I ask politely if there is a pen I could use (my fault, I shouldn't go anywhere... especially court... without a pen). She assures me there's a clip board down the hall. So I walk a few feet to the end of the hall and there are chairs on both sides. I take a seat as she walks past me and wanders further down the hall. I spot the clipboard, stand up to get it, am walking back to my seat while fitting my form into the clipboard. She starts to berate me... "Sir, PLEASE have a seat. There's no reason for you to be standing up." I sit down and start to fill out the form. She says "So you're going to see the judge?" I say, "Yes, I intend to. But first I'd like to see what the reduced fine is." (This was spelled out clearly on the posters) Incompetent lady then says "No, you already gave up that choice." I calmly said "I'm sorry, but I didn't make any such choice." She said "But you're sitting on this side of the hall, that means you chose to see the judge." I said, "No, I sat where you told me to, and have not many any choices yet. I'd like to see what my reduced fines will be." She said "Then why are you on THIS SIDE... you should be on THAT side." (she points to seats three feat away on the other side of the narrow hall). "OK, thanks, I'll sit there then."
Clerk calls "NEXT", and I go talk to her. She's a little better, but still seemed befuddled by the task of doing exactly what she's been doing all day, every day, for God knows how long. Seemed like a novelty that she had to go through a pile of copies of tickets, and check them off, and figure out what the reduction would be. I told her that I was planning on seeing the judge about the first 7 tickets... she said "Which are the first seven?" I said, "you see that form on top that lists my 11 tickets? The first seven on that list are the first seven tickets." Oddly enough, she seemed incapable of looking through a stack of papers without spreading them out haphazardly on her desk, and then stacking them back up in a random order. She did help me out, though. She noted that of the four tickets that actually seemed to be written for MY car, for an offense that was (arguably) my responsibility, that two of them were issued on the same day, so she waved that one right away. The reduced the other three from $95/$75/$75 down to $43 each. At that point I said, I'll take that deal and see the judge about the rest.
OK, now back out to the hall and sit on what I now know is the correct side. Incompetent lady is now ushering other people into seats. Mind you, she's supposed to put people in seats IN ORDER, because that's how they determine who is NEXT. She seats an Asian guy, who clearly has little capacity in English, on the correct side and he starts filling out his form. He says "Miss, can you please give me back my ticket." She says "Ticket? I don't have your ticket? How did you lose your ticket? I don't take nobody's ticket!!!" He talks to the Asian guy next to him, and he sayd "Miss, he says you took his ticket, and he needs it to show the clerk." She says "Oh wait... I DID take your ticket and I have no idea what I did with it." She wanders around aimlessly for a minute or two, then walks back to the front waiting area where the other girl working there says "Hey, you left this stuff here !!" She brings back his ticket.
Meanwhile, several people on my side have been called in to see the judge, so there are a couple of open seats. As incompetent lady ushers a few more people down the hall, they fill in the open seats, one of which was IN FRONT of me, others were in front of other people behind me. So she can't even seat people in the correct order, or keep track of people's documents... which is ALL she does ALL DAY.
OK, then judge calls me in to an office, swears me in, hears my story, looks at the tickets, believes me, and dismisses all seven tickets. We talk VERY briefly as he's printing out the documents for me... I can see things lightened up as soon as he decided I was not a liar or scammer. He asked if I called the police when I realized somebody was using my plates. I said I didn't figure it out until yesterday, but I figure as soon as I re-registered my care for the new plates, the old ones would raise a red flag for any police officer writing a ticket for the OLD plates. He laughed and said, "No, they just write the tickets. Nobody runs plates. You'd think writing a ticket for a vehicle with a missing plate, no registration, and no inspection, with the VIN covered up would be enough to have him call for it to be towed... wouldn't you?"
OK, yippie-ay-oh-kay-ay !!! I just saw $950 in fines turn into $130. Now all I have to do is pay. Over to the other side of the office and wait on fairly long line, but not TOO bad. I read carefully my paying options on the posters. Credit cards, debit cards, money orders, checks, cash... all good. In fact, one window kept yelling "anybody paying by check, please step up !!" I waited, since I was paying w/ debit. I get to the window, plunk down the paperwork and my debit and license. The guy in the window says "Sorry, we don't take VISA anymore." I said, "It's a debit, not a credit card." He said, "Yeah, but it's a VISA, and we don't accept them." (Now I'm getting mad) I said angrily "The sign says you take debit. It doesn't say anything about VISA. Where does it say that you don't take VISA." He said, "It doesn't, but that's the rules." I ask where there's a cash machine, he says "Outside the building and across the street." He was nice enough to offer that I come back to him without waiting on the line. (oh, and BTW there would have been a $3 PER TICKET fee for using debit... even though they swipe it ONCE, and there's ONE transaction, they somehow multiply the fee per ticket.)
OK, across the street, a bank of the super fast Citi-bank machines save me $6 since they only hit me for the one $3 fee. Back to the building where the front doors are LOCKED !!! Inside the glass doors I see velvet rope across all doors, and a sign saying "building closes at 4:30. I check my watch and see it's 4:10. Steam is now pouring out of my ears... but luckily a stranger who works there says "Don't worry, last door on the left is still open until 4:30. Thank god, or I might be in jail right now !!!!!
Back upstairs, pay my fine, and get the hell out of there ASAP. Hopefully I will never darken their doorstep again !!!
Quick recap (not posted on this blog, sorry)... my front license plate had been missing, and I got a few tickets before I realized it was gone, and another after I got new plates, but before I could get the front plate mounted on my bumper. Had one Spanish guy at the local auto parts store try to screw it into my metal bumper and then had to attempt to explain that he would actually need a drill to do it because the bumper is not plastic. Finally got J and Tray's guy in Riverdale to do it.
So the plan was to plead to the judge that I got four tickets for the same offense, tried hard to get it fixed as soon as possible, and made all attempts to rectify the situation. So the day before, I checked online to see if there was any info I might be able to use to make my case. HOLY CHRIST ON A CRACKER !!! There were SEVEN additional tickets that I didn't know about. I had almost $1000 of outstanding fines. I'm AMAZED my car had not been towed. I immediately brought the car to the parking garage so the sharks w/ the tow trucks didn't scoop me up. All these tickets were BEFORE the first ticket I had ever seen for the missing plate... they were parking IN MY NEIGHBORHOOD, double parking, alternate side parking, missing registration and inspection, and missing front plate. HUH? I didn't do any of those things... except missing front plate. Further scrutiny of the tickets (immaged online) and I saw the vehicle description... Blue Ford Pickup !!! I drive a BLACK JEEP !!! Now it all makes sense. Bucci called it right away, though it never occurred to me... somebody either swiped my plate off my car, or off the ground, and slapped it on the back of his unregistered vehicle and parked wherever he felt like parking. I wish I checked the vehicle description on my Yonkers tickets... wish the judge bothered to look too. Some of the NYC tix had a note saying VIN not visible, but two of them had a VIN listed which was NOT mine.
OK, so here's where it gets weird. Down at 66 John Street to the NYC department of finance where you can adjudicate your tickets and pay your fines. First step they send you to a window to get a printout of all your tickets. Next you go to the waiting area where you read the posters which detail the procedure. You have TWO CHOICES. First you go to a clerk, not a judge, and (s)he will automatically offer you a significant reduction of your fines (for most offenses). Then you can choose to take this reduced fine, OR go see the judge. The judge is not allowed to reduce the fines. He can dismiss the ticket or uphold the ticket. It's an actual gamble that you are taking.
So, before I get to the clerk/judge, there's the incompetent lady. She's got the clip board, calls the numbers, ushers people into seats where you wait for the clerk. She tells me, "fill out this form, go down this hall and have a seat". I ask politely if there is a pen I could use (my fault, I shouldn't go anywhere... especially court... without a pen). She assures me there's a clip board down the hall. So I walk a few feet to the end of the hall and there are chairs on both sides. I take a seat as she walks past me and wanders further down the hall. I spot the clipboard, stand up to get it, am walking back to my seat while fitting my form into the clipboard. She starts to berate me... "Sir, PLEASE have a seat. There's no reason for you to be standing up." I sit down and start to fill out the form. She says "So you're going to see the judge?" I say, "Yes, I intend to. But first I'd like to see what the reduced fine is." (This was spelled out clearly on the posters) Incompetent lady then says "No, you already gave up that choice." I calmly said "I'm sorry, but I didn't make any such choice." She said "But you're sitting on this side of the hall, that means you chose to see the judge." I said, "No, I sat where you told me to, and have not many any choices yet. I'd like to see what my reduced fines will be." She said "Then why are you on THIS SIDE... you should be on THAT side." (she points to seats three feat away on the other side of the narrow hall). "OK, thanks, I'll sit there then."
Clerk calls "NEXT", and I go talk to her. She's a little better, but still seemed befuddled by the task of doing exactly what she's been doing all day, every day, for God knows how long. Seemed like a novelty that she had to go through a pile of copies of tickets, and check them off, and figure out what the reduction would be. I told her that I was planning on seeing the judge about the first 7 tickets... she said "Which are the first seven?" I said, "you see that form on top that lists my 11 tickets? The first seven on that list are the first seven tickets." Oddly enough, she seemed incapable of looking through a stack of papers without spreading them out haphazardly on her desk, and then stacking them back up in a random order. She did help me out, though. She noted that of the four tickets that actually seemed to be written for MY car, for an offense that was (arguably) my responsibility, that two of them were issued on the same day, so she waved that one right away. The reduced the other three from $95/$75/$75 down to $43 each. At that point I said, I'll take that deal and see the judge about the rest.
OK, now back out to the hall and sit on what I now know is the correct side. Incompetent lady is now ushering other people into seats. Mind you, she's supposed to put people in seats IN ORDER, because that's how they determine who is NEXT. She seats an Asian guy, who clearly has little capacity in English, on the correct side and he starts filling out his form. He says "Miss, can you please give me back my ticket." She says "Ticket? I don't have your ticket? How did you lose your ticket? I don't take nobody's ticket!!!" He talks to the Asian guy next to him, and he sayd "Miss, he says you took his ticket, and he needs it to show the clerk." She says "Oh wait... I DID take your ticket and I have no idea what I did with it." She wanders around aimlessly for a minute or two, then walks back to the front waiting area where the other girl working there says "Hey, you left this stuff here !!" She brings back his ticket.
Meanwhile, several people on my side have been called in to see the judge, so there are a couple of open seats. As incompetent lady ushers a few more people down the hall, they fill in the open seats, one of which was IN FRONT of me, others were in front of other people behind me. So she can't even seat people in the correct order, or keep track of people's documents... which is ALL she does ALL DAY.
OK, then judge calls me in to an office, swears me in, hears my story, looks at the tickets, believes me, and dismisses all seven tickets. We talk VERY briefly as he's printing out the documents for me... I can see things lightened up as soon as he decided I was not a liar or scammer. He asked if I called the police when I realized somebody was using my plates. I said I didn't figure it out until yesterday, but I figure as soon as I re-registered my care for the new plates, the old ones would raise a red flag for any police officer writing a ticket for the OLD plates. He laughed and said, "No, they just write the tickets. Nobody runs plates. You'd think writing a ticket for a vehicle with a missing plate, no registration, and no inspection, with the VIN covered up would be enough to have him call for it to be towed... wouldn't you?"
OK, yippie-ay-oh-kay-ay !!! I just saw $950 in fines turn into $130. Now all I have to do is pay. Over to the other side of the office and wait on fairly long line, but not TOO bad. I read carefully my paying options on the posters. Credit cards, debit cards, money orders, checks, cash... all good. In fact, one window kept yelling "anybody paying by check, please step up !!" I waited, since I was paying w/ debit. I get to the window, plunk down the paperwork and my debit and license. The guy in the window says "Sorry, we don't take VISA anymore." I said, "It's a debit, not a credit card." He said, "Yeah, but it's a VISA, and we don't accept them." (Now I'm getting mad) I said angrily "The sign says you take debit. It doesn't say anything about VISA. Where does it say that you don't take VISA." He said, "It doesn't, but that's the rules." I ask where there's a cash machine, he says "Outside the building and across the street." He was nice enough to offer that I come back to him without waiting on the line. (oh, and BTW there would have been a $3 PER TICKET fee for using debit... even though they swipe it ONCE, and there's ONE transaction, they somehow multiply the fee per ticket.)
OK, across the street, a bank of the super fast Citi-bank machines save me $6 since they only hit me for the one $3 fee. Back to the building where the front doors are LOCKED !!! Inside the glass doors I see velvet rope across all doors, and a sign saying "building closes at 4:30. I check my watch and see it's 4:10. Steam is now pouring out of my ears... but luckily a stranger who works there says "Don't worry, last door on the left is still open until 4:30. Thank god, or I might be in jail right now !!!!!
Back upstairs, pay my fine, and get the hell out of there ASAP. Hopefully I will never darken their doorstep again !!!
Thursday, December 3, 2009
Phish at The Garden
Let me get the Pimp/Whore business out of the way first...
http://www.ca.com/us/
Use Computer Associates for all your Information Technology needs.
(believe me, I'm not the Pimp in this scenario)
Now some of you know that I've sworn off Arena Rock and Stadium Shows this year. I made an exception for Paul McCartney at CitiField, and I don't regret it for a minute. I did, however, opt out of AC/DC as well as Metalica at The Garden... not an easy choice. But Phish is back together after something like a 10 year hiatus, and Dan K called me up out of the blue and said he had access to a Skybox... all on CA's dime. OK, I'm not made of stone. I'm in.
So I'm heading toward The Garden, and I'm getting just a little perturbed at the general rukus. Who the hell are all these johnny-come-lately hippies, who couldn't even find San Francisco on a map or wouldn't know Grace Slick if they bumped into her at a White House dinner. I'm noticing a lot of empty pint liquor bottles strewn around the street too. OK, I'm OLD. I know it.
Then as I push my way in towards The Garden's main entrance, I cut to the far left, as I've had the privilege to do only a few times before. I enter a glass doorway that most people see but don't realize is there. Suddenly the roar of the crowd is silenced. I hear some mellow music in the background. With uncertainty in my heart, and all the hope I can muster, I say to the worker at the desk "Ticket for Kevin Wilkinson?"... she checks and say's "Yes, here you go sir... enjoy the show. Take the escalator here, then the elevator to level 10."
OK, I've done this before... I breath a sigh of relief and I KNOW I'm in !!! The elevator has only two buttons... 3 (where I am) and 10 (the Mecca). A few seconds later I'm at 10.
Dan meets me at the elevator and we head over to CA's skybox. They have their logo bolted to the wall. Apparently they do a hell of a lot of business in New York. I meet the crew... best described as a bunch of stuffed shirts. OK, they're mostly nice guys just happy to be out of the house for the night, but for a Phish show these guys obviously just came from work and were lucky to lose the jacket and tie. Two guys were the head honchos... clearly in "Sales".
Now we've been busting Dan's balls for years now, ever since he first acknowledged himself as "Assistant Vice President of a Major New York Bank". But in this circle, that carries some juice. The CA sales guys were all "There's Dan K***"... "look, there's Dan, and he brought a friend..." I guess that major New York Bank paid for a good portion of that box.
So in comes hot trays of burgers, chicken fingers, pigs in a blanket, waffle fries, a couple of metal buckets full of beer on ice... and a bottle of Kettle One, some lemons, and a few liters of club soda. Yeah, I could get used to this. The actual seats of the Skybox were stage left (audience right), all the way up at the roof, but close enough along the edge that you could see the band very clearly... they weren't just ants. The sound was just PERFECT.
(Oh, and eventually the bottle of Kettle One was replaced by a second bottle when the first one was polished off.)
Sooooo... on with the show. I don't know Phish all that well. I saw them at Nassau Colosseum back in the 90s, I have their live double CD box set, listened to it a bunch one summer... I dig their free-form jam sound. Mostly high energy songs, each of the four players has their own groove going, and it all adds up to a cool amalgamated sound. They are definitely pigeon-holed into the Grateful Dead scene, and rightfully so... but they have their own sound. Tight, fun, interesting, unpredictable... somewhere between The Dead and The Allman Brothers, if you ask me. Metal heads, hip hoppers, stay away. This ain't for you. It's all rooted in the South Western and Southern Rock sound filtered through San Francisco Psychedelia with a bit of Jazz Fusion thrown in for flavor.
So as I posted on Facebook, they broke out into "Peaches en Regalia". It's an obscure Zappa tune that pops up in some of the most bizarre venues. The crowd seemed to pick up on it right away. The fist set went an hour-twenty, then a half hour intermission, followed by almost two hour second set, then an encore. The encore started with a ROCKING version of... get this... A Day in the Life. Wow... just wow.
Dan K had to run out to catch his train just before the end of the show. Me, I stuck around to enjoy a few Kettle One's w/ soda while the band played on. I thanked my gracious hosts from CA, but remember thinking to myself "Thanks for the good time... people I don't know and will never see again."
Big thanks to Dan K for the invite !!! Beats the hell out of whatever I was gonna do last night !!!
http://www.ca.com/us/
Use Computer Associates for all your Information Technology needs.
(believe me, I'm not the Pimp in this scenario)
Now some of you know that I've sworn off Arena Rock and Stadium Shows this year. I made an exception for Paul McCartney at CitiField, and I don't regret it for a minute. I did, however, opt out of AC/DC as well as Metalica at The Garden... not an easy choice. But Phish is back together after something like a 10 year hiatus, and Dan K called me up out of the blue and said he had access to a Skybox... all on CA's dime. OK, I'm not made of stone. I'm in.
So I'm heading toward The Garden, and I'm getting just a little perturbed at the general rukus. Who the hell are all these johnny-come-lately hippies, who couldn't even find San Francisco on a map or wouldn't know Grace Slick if they bumped into her at a White House dinner. I'm noticing a lot of empty pint liquor bottles strewn around the street too. OK, I'm OLD. I know it.
Then as I push my way in towards The Garden's main entrance, I cut to the far left, as I've had the privilege to do only a few times before. I enter a glass doorway that most people see but don't realize is there. Suddenly the roar of the crowd is silenced. I hear some mellow music in the background. With uncertainty in my heart, and all the hope I can muster, I say to the worker at the desk "Ticket for Kevin Wilkinson?"... she checks and say's "Yes, here you go sir... enjoy the show. Take the escalator here, then the elevator to level 10."
OK, I've done this before... I breath a sigh of relief and I KNOW I'm in !!! The elevator has only two buttons... 3 (where I am) and 10 (the Mecca). A few seconds later I'm at 10.
Dan meets me at the elevator and we head over to CA's skybox. They have their logo bolted to the wall. Apparently they do a hell of a lot of business in New York. I meet the crew... best described as a bunch of stuffed shirts. OK, they're mostly nice guys just happy to be out of the house for the night, but for a Phish show these guys obviously just came from work and were lucky to lose the jacket and tie. Two guys were the head honchos... clearly in "Sales".
Now we've been busting Dan's balls for years now, ever since he first acknowledged himself as "Assistant Vice President of a Major New York Bank". But in this circle, that carries some juice. The CA sales guys were all "There's Dan K***"... "look, there's Dan, and he brought a friend..." I guess that major New York Bank paid for a good portion of that box.
So in comes hot trays of burgers, chicken fingers, pigs in a blanket, waffle fries, a couple of metal buckets full of beer on ice... and a bottle of Kettle One, some lemons, and a few liters of club soda. Yeah, I could get used to this. The actual seats of the Skybox were stage left (audience right), all the way up at the roof, but close enough along the edge that you could see the band very clearly... they weren't just ants. The sound was just PERFECT.
(Oh, and eventually the bottle of Kettle One was replaced by a second bottle when the first one was polished off.)
Sooooo... on with the show. I don't know Phish all that well. I saw them at Nassau Colosseum back in the 90s, I have their live double CD box set, listened to it a bunch one summer... I dig their free-form jam sound. Mostly high energy songs, each of the four players has their own groove going, and it all adds up to a cool amalgamated sound. They are definitely pigeon-holed into the Grateful Dead scene, and rightfully so... but they have their own sound. Tight, fun, interesting, unpredictable... somewhere between The Dead and The Allman Brothers, if you ask me. Metal heads, hip hoppers, stay away. This ain't for you. It's all rooted in the South Western and Southern Rock sound filtered through San Francisco Psychedelia with a bit of Jazz Fusion thrown in for flavor.
So as I posted on Facebook, they broke out into "Peaches en Regalia". It's an obscure Zappa tune that pops up in some of the most bizarre venues. The crowd seemed to pick up on it right away. The fist set went an hour-twenty, then a half hour intermission, followed by almost two hour second set, then an encore. The encore started with a ROCKING version of... get this... A Day in the Life. Wow... just wow.
Dan K had to run out to catch his train just before the end of the show. Me, I stuck around to enjoy a few Kettle One's w/ soda while the band played on. I thanked my gracious hosts from CA, but remember thinking to myself "Thanks for the good time... people I don't know and will never see again."
Big thanks to Dan K for the invite !!! Beats the hell out of whatever I was gonna do last night !!!
Tuesday, October 6, 2009
Of monkeys, planets, and tomatoes
Just to flesh out something I started a few days ago, and oddly enough came up again in another e-mail. For some reason I mentioned that I don't like being told that there's a difference between apes and monkeys. I understand that there is a convention determined by some academic group or another, who determines which piles of animals we call monkeys, which we call apes, and which we call neither. And I'm sure that since I was a young kid, I was not in accordance with their categories. In my mind, Chimpanzees are monkeys. They are the definitive monkeys. Lance Link, secret chimp? Monkey. Tarzan's cheetah? Monkey. Kurt Russel's "Barefoot Executive"? Monkey. Gorillas and Orangutan? Big monkeys. Rhesus, Gibbon, and Colobus? Small monkeys.
OK, I get it. I can't go using my own definition for words when there are scores of people in corduroy jackets with patches on the elbows working hard to make these definitions. That's my own problem and I'll have to deal with it.
But what does irk me is when people say "It's a scientific fact that monkeys are not apes." It's right up there with the scientific fact that tomatoes are fruits and not vegetables. Or that Pluto is not a planet.
One of my biggest pet peeves in this world is the unscientific nature of science in the classroom. Again, I get it... not everybody wants to be a scientist. We have to teach everybody SOME science, but don't need to teach everybody how to be a scientist. So we turn science class into a vocabulary class and too often we refer to the art of classification as if it were science. I'm sure classification is essential to science, but it isn't science. I see it more as bookkeeping which needs to be done before we can do science. For thousands of years people have been naming animals. God literally gave that job to Adam in the first book of The Bible. More recently we have been grouping animals into categories like vertebrates, mollusks, crustaceans, arachnids, birds, mammals, etc. I think in general, this was usually done by looking at the creatures and seeing which ones looked alike. Clams, mussels, and scallops... close enough, you're a group. Spiders and ants... nope, two many legs... three part body... two different groups for you. I'm sure there was a lot of interesting and lengthy observations made, including dissecting and using microscopes and whatnot. And that observation is, I admit, a big part of the scientific process.
But applying names to the various groups, I assert, is NOT science. It's bookkeeping. Science really deals with the unknown. It is the act of making a hypothesis, testing this hypothesis, and either rejecting it or letting it stand unfalsified until further testing. After sufficient tests have been taken, repeated in various locations independently, and the results are consistently reproduced we can finally reject the hypothesis or we can claim that it is supported by the evidence and thus it is a theory. So you can say "mollusks appeared on the earth before arachnids" or "birds evolved from reptiles", and then begin testing this hypothesis. And of course, these hypotheses could not have been made if we didn't have the groups such as mollusks and arachnids already defined. Thus the categorization is important to science... perhaps necessary to science. But that is not itself science.
The categorization process, as I see it, does not require hypothesis or testing. For example, the convention is that monkeys have tails and apes don't. So do we need a hypothesis to state "This creature I'm looking at swinging in the tree has a tail."... and then do we apply an experiment (i.e. look at it's tail as he is dangling off a branch of a tree w/ said tail)? Do we now replicate this experiment in various locations? That might be difficult since the creature I'm observing is really only in one location... right in front of ME. No, it seems to me that we just arbitrarily pick a set of criteria, and look for creatures with said criteria, and apply the name to all who fit the bill. At least that is how it's been done for hundreds, nay thousands of years. Has backbone... heats his own body... makes milk... has thumbs... has no tail... he's an ape. Oh HAS tail... OK, monkey. Tusks above the trunk? Mammoth. Bellow the trunk? Elephant.
Not really any hypothesis testing going on there. Just bookkeeping. It's not a "scientific fact" that monkeys have tails. It's a definition that monkeys have tails, then we go ahead and label the tail waggers as monkeys. Nothing was discovered, no hypothesis was confirmed or rejected. No secrets of the Universe were revealed.
Today we have a whole new dimension to the process. We see things in light of genetics and evolution. So the categorization process is a lot more dependent on hypothesis testing. You don't just look for a tail, you need to extract certain gene markers from a strand of DNA. Certainly a lot of science going on there. We see which creatures were descended from which, which couldn't possibly be related any time lately. I remember there's a creature that looks like a rabbit, with big floppy ears, but is classified as a Rodent. Now I don't know why a Rabbit is different from a Rodent... though I think it has something to do with the front teeth. But in any case, if you were classifying these buggers 200 years ago, you would probably say that they belong in the same group. But with the help of DNA we can say that the two had different evolutionary paths to similar outward appearance, and thus belong in different categories. THIS decision making process seems to be real science to me. There's a similar debate going on now about the Panda bear. Is it really a bear, or is it more like a big raccoon?
But in the end, the Panda is what a Panda is. It doesn't matter what label we put on it. It's an arbitrary grouping. A label based on arbitrary criteria. The fact that you know that a Kangaroo is a marsupial does NOT imply that you know your science. Any English major or political historian can memorize names and lists of criteria. This does not imply that they know how to apply the scientific method... that they are equipped to begin the task of explaining the unknown... that they know science. It only implies that they can memorize names and lists of criteria. This is NOT science.
This can be extrapolated to any of the sciences. Apparently Pluto is not a planet. Was it ever? Were the scientists of 20 years ago WRONG? What is the list of criteria necessary for a body to be called a planet? As far as I knew, it was a night time traveler, something in the sky that moved at a different speed than the rest of the stars. As such, I suspect we really have only three or four planets... unless we allow telescopes into the definition. Then it becomes ANYTHING that revolves around the sun? Anything of a certain size and heft that revolves around the sun? Anything that does not have a tail that revolves around the sun? (Yes, apparently that was one criticism about Pluto... he DOES have a tail... or he would if he were close to the sun). So again, I conclude WHO CARES ?!? This classification is NOT science. The science occurs while we explore the details... does Pluto have a tail? Would Pluto have a tail if it were closer to the sun? What is the size and heft of Pluto? THOSE are the kinds of questions that are asked by scientists, and answered by science. Once those things are all asked and answered (independently and consistently), then we can turn it over to the bookkeepers to drop these things into their buckets and slap a label on them. Then some smart alack kid can claim to "know" science and tell us that Pluto is or isn't a planet even if he knows nothing about the questions and methods used to derive the answers which were used to make the categorization.
OK, finally I come to tomatoes. Are they a fruit or a vegetable? First of all, can't you be both? What the heck is a vegetable? In my mind, it's all vegetation. The whole of the Plant Kingdom. Apples? Vegetables. Peaches? Vegetables. Green Pepper? Vegetable. Lettuce, Onions, Celery? Vegetable. Corn? Vegetables. Sunflower seeds? Vegetables. OK, so what's a fruit? Oh, those are the bloated part of a flower after the flower becomes pregnant. They swell up with water content, are usually surrounded by some sort of plant skin, and they bear seeds. Apples? Fruit. Peaches? Fruit. Green Peppers? Most certainly a fruit, as are cucumbers, squash, pumpkins, and eggplant. Corn? By the ear... fruit. By the kernel... probably not. Sunflower seeds? probably not. Lettuce, onions, celery? Not so much.
Tomatoes? Unequivocally BOTH.
But here's the worst part of the fruit vs vegetable controversy. Who decides? It is NOT the scientists. It's not the white coats or even the corduroy jackets making this call, it's the dark suits with mirrored sunglasses. It is government law enforcement organizations such as the FDA who classify some vegetation as "vegetables" and some as "fruits". What criteria do THEY use? Generally orders from the president, or decrees from congress. And how on EARTH are they equipped to make these decisions? THEY control tax policy and tariffs. They determine that a can of crushed tomatoes from Italy is a vegetable but a can of whole tomatoes from Italy is a fruit. Thus crushed are tariff free while whole are subject to a tariff.
So in conclusion, I will keep in mind that categorization can be important for effective communication if you keep in mind that knowledge of categories is NOT knowledge of science.
OK, I get it. I can't go using my own definition for words when there are scores of people in corduroy jackets with patches on the elbows working hard to make these definitions. That's my own problem and I'll have to deal with it.
But what does irk me is when people say "It's a scientific fact that monkeys are not apes." It's right up there with the scientific fact that tomatoes are fruits and not vegetables. Or that Pluto is not a planet.
One of my biggest pet peeves in this world is the unscientific nature of science in the classroom. Again, I get it... not everybody wants to be a scientist. We have to teach everybody SOME science, but don't need to teach everybody how to be a scientist. So we turn science class into a vocabulary class and too often we refer to the art of classification as if it were science. I'm sure classification is essential to science, but it isn't science. I see it more as bookkeeping which needs to be done before we can do science. For thousands of years people have been naming animals. God literally gave that job to Adam in the first book of The Bible. More recently we have been grouping animals into categories like vertebrates, mollusks, crustaceans, arachnids, birds, mammals, etc. I think in general, this was usually done by looking at the creatures and seeing which ones looked alike. Clams, mussels, and scallops... close enough, you're a group. Spiders and ants... nope, two many legs... three part body... two different groups for you. I'm sure there was a lot of interesting and lengthy observations made, including dissecting and using microscopes and whatnot. And that observation is, I admit, a big part of the scientific process.
But applying names to the various groups, I assert, is NOT science. It's bookkeeping. Science really deals with the unknown. It is the act of making a hypothesis, testing this hypothesis, and either rejecting it or letting it stand unfalsified until further testing. After sufficient tests have been taken, repeated in various locations independently, and the results are consistently reproduced we can finally reject the hypothesis or we can claim that it is supported by the evidence and thus it is a theory. So you can say "mollusks appeared on the earth before arachnids" or "birds evolved from reptiles", and then begin testing this hypothesis. And of course, these hypotheses could not have been made if we didn't have the groups such as mollusks and arachnids already defined. Thus the categorization is important to science... perhaps necessary to science. But that is not itself science.
The categorization process, as I see it, does not require hypothesis or testing. For example, the convention is that monkeys have tails and apes don't. So do we need a hypothesis to state "This creature I'm looking at swinging in the tree has a tail."... and then do we apply an experiment (i.e. look at it's tail as he is dangling off a branch of a tree w/ said tail)? Do we now replicate this experiment in various locations? That might be difficult since the creature I'm observing is really only in one location... right in front of ME. No, it seems to me that we just arbitrarily pick a set of criteria, and look for creatures with said criteria, and apply the name to all who fit the bill. At least that is how it's been done for hundreds, nay thousands of years. Has backbone... heats his own body... makes milk... has thumbs... has no tail... he's an ape. Oh HAS tail... OK, monkey. Tusks above the trunk? Mammoth. Bellow the trunk? Elephant.
Not really any hypothesis testing going on there. Just bookkeeping. It's not a "scientific fact" that monkeys have tails. It's a definition that monkeys have tails, then we go ahead and label the tail waggers as monkeys. Nothing was discovered, no hypothesis was confirmed or rejected. No secrets of the Universe were revealed.
Today we have a whole new dimension to the process. We see things in light of genetics and evolution. So the categorization process is a lot more dependent on hypothesis testing. You don't just look for a tail, you need to extract certain gene markers from a strand of DNA. Certainly a lot of science going on there. We see which creatures were descended from which, which couldn't possibly be related any time lately. I remember there's a creature that looks like a rabbit, with big floppy ears, but is classified as a Rodent. Now I don't know why a Rabbit is different from a Rodent... though I think it has something to do with the front teeth. But in any case, if you were classifying these buggers 200 years ago, you would probably say that they belong in the same group. But with the help of DNA we can say that the two had different evolutionary paths to similar outward appearance, and thus belong in different categories. THIS decision making process seems to be real science to me. There's a similar debate going on now about the Panda bear. Is it really a bear, or is it more like a big raccoon?
But in the end, the Panda is what a Panda is. It doesn't matter what label we put on it. It's an arbitrary grouping. A label based on arbitrary criteria. The fact that you know that a Kangaroo is a marsupial does NOT imply that you know your science. Any English major or political historian can memorize names and lists of criteria. This does not imply that they know how to apply the scientific method... that they are equipped to begin the task of explaining the unknown... that they know science. It only implies that they can memorize names and lists of criteria. This is NOT science.
This can be extrapolated to any of the sciences. Apparently Pluto is not a planet. Was it ever? Were the scientists of 20 years ago WRONG? What is the list of criteria necessary for a body to be called a planet? As far as I knew, it was a night time traveler, something in the sky that moved at a different speed than the rest of the stars. As such, I suspect we really have only three or four planets... unless we allow telescopes into the definition. Then it becomes ANYTHING that revolves around the sun? Anything of a certain size and heft that revolves around the sun? Anything that does not have a tail that revolves around the sun? (Yes, apparently that was one criticism about Pluto... he DOES have a tail... or he would if he were close to the sun). So again, I conclude WHO CARES ?!? This classification is NOT science. The science occurs while we explore the details... does Pluto have a tail? Would Pluto have a tail if it were closer to the sun? What is the size and heft of Pluto? THOSE are the kinds of questions that are asked by scientists, and answered by science. Once those things are all asked and answered (independently and consistently), then we can turn it over to the bookkeepers to drop these things into their buckets and slap a label on them. Then some smart alack kid can claim to "know" science and tell us that Pluto is or isn't a planet even if he knows nothing about the questions and methods used to derive the answers which were used to make the categorization.
OK, finally I come to tomatoes. Are they a fruit or a vegetable? First of all, can't you be both? What the heck is a vegetable? In my mind, it's all vegetation. The whole of the Plant Kingdom. Apples? Vegetables. Peaches? Vegetables. Green Pepper? Vegetable. Lettuce, Onions, Celery? Vegetable. Corn? Vegetables. Sunflower seeds? Vegetables. OK, so what's a fruit? Oh, those are the bloated part of a flower after the flower becomes pregnant. They swell up with water content, are usually surrounded by some sort of plant skin, and they bear seeds. Apples? Fruit. Peaches? Fruit. Green Peppers? Most certainly a fruit, as are cucumbers, squash, pumpkins, and eggplant. Corn? By the ear... fruit. By the kernel... probably not. Sunflower seeds? probably not. Lettuce, onions, celery? Not so much.
Tomatoes? Unequivocally BOTH.
But here's the worst part of the fruit vs vegetable controversy. Who decides? It is NOT the scientists. It's not the white coats or even the corduroy jackets making this call, it's the dark suits with mirrored sunglasses. It is government law enforcement organizations such as the FDA who classify some vegetation as "vegetables" and some as "fruits". What criteria do THEY use? Generally orders from the president, or decrees from congress. And how on EARTH are they equipped to make these decisions? THEY control tax policy and tariffs. They determine that a can of crushed tomatoes from Italy is a vegetable but a can of whole tomatoes from Italy is a fruit. Thus crushed are tariff free while whole are subject to a tariff.
So in conclusion, I will keep in mind that categorization can be important for effective communication if you keep in mind that knowledge of categories is NOT knowledge of science.
Friday, September 25, 2009
This Might Get Loud
Been meaning to write up this review for a while now. I headed down to Houston Street to catch This Might Get Loud as soon as I could. It's a documentary produced by the same people who made "An Inconvenient Truth". Don't worry, it's not politically charged at all.
Basically they get three famous rock guitarists from three different eras together in a room, along with guitars and equipment, and see what happens. The three rock stars are Jimmy Page, The Edge, and Jack White.
It starts off with some sort of vignettes, each of the three by himself, giving random thoughts about music and guitars. They go into each one's very earliest memories from childhood and how they first discovered rock and roll, and guitars in particular. They show some of the oldest film and video clips available. They even get Jimmy Page at about 12 years old, on British TV strumming an acoustic guitar singing skiffle style. The Edge takes you back to his high school and shows you the room where their music teacher let the band, later to be known as U2, learned to play. He showed the bulletin board where he first read the notice that Bono was looking for a guitar player. Jack White takes you to the streets of Detroit, in an Spanish neighborhood, where he and his seven siblings were among the few English speakers still living there. He explains that it was not the Mecca of rock music in the eighties.
The very first scene is Jack White building a make shift electric guitar out of a plank of wood, a coke bottle, a pickup, some string, and a hammer and nails. "Who need to buy a guitar" he muses. The Edge tells you about how he and his brother built an electric guitar from scratch when he was 10 years old, including carving the body and neck, carving grooves for frets, laying the metal frets into those grooves, winding the wire around the magnets to make the pickups...
There are lots of scenes of each of them on their own, in their own element, doing their own process.
Eventually, they all arrive in a sort of studio room... more like a movie studio than a music studio... but all of their own equipment is there, set up by their own people. They all talk about music, guitars, their experience in the business, their process... everything.
At one point you see Jack White and The Edge talking and doing stuff when Jimmy Page starts to rock out some recognizable Zeppelin riff. The two of them almost turn white as their jaws seem to hit the floor. Everything instantly stops as their attention is glued to the rock legend.
There's not nearly enough playing, in my opinion. But there is some... and what they have is good. They all jam out together on Zeppelin's "In My Time of Dying". A great number for fans of gritty slide guitar, which is perfect for Jack White. The Edge puts his own technical, crisp, clean, non-gritty spin on it. Even blindfolded, you would be able to pick out each one's style with no problem. They wrap it up by working out a group version of "The Weight" by The Band.
I learned quite a bit about Jimmy Page. I didn't really know much about him except he was from England and played in The Yardbirds. I had no idea about his life as a studio musician, writing and playing jingles for commercials and movies, as well as Musak.
I was also incredibly impressed by Jack White and his story. I knew virtually nothing about him... wasn't even sure if his drummer was his wife or what... turns out it's his sister. I wasn't sure if he was all talk, playing up some sort of image, but he comes across as a real and authentic. He talks about having virtually nothing while growing up, but scraping together enough music equipment that his bed couldn't fit in his room anymore, so he slept on a mat on the floor. He loves working with old dented broken, half out of tune guitars and pianos. There are also some almost scary similarities between him and Jimmy Page in some really strange ways... like in the old records they both listened to as kids, and some of the songs they chose to play early on.
If you are a fan of rock guitar, or rock music in general, this is a MUST SEE.
ADDENDUM: It is now November 26, 2011 when I'm looking back at these old blog entries, and I felt I had to add that I have since found out that Jack White's drummer in The White Stripes IS his ex-wife, and NOT his sister. And while I still dig Jack White, I really can't believe a word he says.
Basically they get three famous rock guitarists from three different eras together in a room, along with guitars and equipment, and see what happens. The three rock stars are Jimmy Page, The Edge, and Jack White.
It starts off with some sort of vignettes, each of the three by himself, giving random thoughts about music and guitars. They go into each one's very earliest memories from childhood and how they first discovered rock and roll, and guitars in particular. They show some of the oldest film and video clips available. They even get Jimmy Page at about 12 years old, on British TV strumming an acoustic guitar singing skiffle style. The Edge takes you back to his high school and shows you the room where their music teacher let the band, later to be known as U2, learned to play. He showed the bulletin board where he first read the notice that Bono was looking for a guitar player. Jack White takes you to the streets of Detroit, in an Spanish neighborhood, where he and his seven siblings were among the few English speakers still living there. He explains that it was not the Mecca of rock music in the eighties.
The very first scene is Jack White building a make shift electric guitar out of a plank of wood, a coke bottle, a pickup, some string, and a hammer and nails. "Who need to buy a guitar" he muses. The Edge tells you about how he and his brother built an electric guitar from scratch when he was 10 years old, including carving the body and neck, carving grooves for frets, laying the metal frets into those grooves, winding the wire around the magnets to make the pickups...
There are lots of scenes of each of them on their own, in their own element, doing their own process.
Eventually, they all arrive in a sort of studio room... more like a movie studio than a music studio... but all of their own equipment is there, set up by their own people. They all talk about music, guitars, their experience in the business, their process... everything.
At one point you see Jack White and The Edge talking and doing stuff when Jimmy Page starts to rock out some recognizable Zeppelin riff. The two of them almost turn white as their jaws seem to hit the floor. Everything instantly stops as their attention is glued to the rock legend.
There's not nearly enough playing, in my opinion. But there is some... and what they have is good. They all jam out together on Zeppelin's "In My Time of Dying". A great number for fans of gritty slide guitar, which is perfect for Jack White. The Edge puts his own technical, crisp, clean, non-gritty spin on it. Even blindfolded, you would be able to pick out each one's style with no problem. They wrap it up by working out a group version of "The Weight" by The Band.
I learned quite a bit about Jimmy Page. I didn't really know much about him except he was from England and played in The Yardbirds. I had no idea about his life as a studio musician, writing and playing jingles for commercials and movies, as well as Musak.
I was also incredibly impressed by Jack White and his story. I knew virtually nothing about him... wasn't even sure if his drummer was his wife or what... turns out it's his sister. I wasn't sure if he was all talk, playing up some sort of image, but he comes across as a real and authentic. He talks about having virtually nothing while growing up, but scraping together enough music equipment that his bed couldn't fit in his room anymore, so he slept on a mat on the floor. He loves working with old dented broken, half out of tune guitars and pianos. There are also some almost scary similarities between him and Jimmy Page in some really strange ways... like in the old records they both listened to as kids, and some of the songs they chose to play early on.
If you are a fan of rock guitar, or rock music in general, this is a MUST SEE.
ADDENDUM: It is now November 26, 2011 when I'm looking back at these old blog entries, and I felt I had to add that I have since found out that Jack White's drummer in The White Stripes IS his ex-wife, and NOT his sister. And while I still dig Jack White, I really can't believe a word he says.
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