So, Bring It On

Ever since humans began to practice an agricultural lifestyle, we have become entwined in a larger social structure than the family or tribe.  The much greater population density made possible by agriculture guarantees that independent existence disappears.  You live in a town or a district along with other farmers and tradesmen and the employees of the government that guarantee that the king (or duke or headman) gets his piece of the pie from your harvest.  And then there’s the Temple of the Gods and their priests who also need to be paid.

But in exchange for this taxation, you are protected by the king’s soldiers.  And the priests pray to the gods for you.  And living in this society you have access to coinage which simplifies the process of buying and selling the things you have and want.  And in this society, there are doctors (sort of) and craftsmen of all kinds producing products made of wood, stone, glass, clay, copper, bronze, iron and all the other materials that men work.  And if you happen to live in a really enlightened place you might get to watch a dramatic, poetry or music performance.  And if you are among the elite, you might even become a scholar and learn to read.

And over the centuries, the advantages of living in a civilized state have grown increasingly valuable.  If you live in an advanced society like ours, you will have access to cutting edge healthcare that has the potential to extend your lifetime to close to a century.  You can board an airplane and fly to a country halfway around the Earth within the same day.  You can learn science that explains the secrets of the universe.

But you can never be free.  You can never be independent.  You are tied to this society with ten thousand threads that bind you to the gigantic machine that is our civilization.  No single man.  No grouping of men can ignore the rules and the requirements of our human world.  Not even someone like Elon Musk can just do what he wants.  We all exist in the matrix of this human construct that carries us all along in a direction that we don’t control and can’t even predict.  We’re like cells in a collective organism.  We think of ourselves as independent entities.  But we are pulled along by the collective and must live in its shadow and survive its actions.

But how does it get better?  Well, human society is only something less than ten thousand years old.  So, this new multicellular organism is in its infancy.  It hasn’t had a chance to evolve very much yet.  And that is the hope.  That we will evolve this organism into an efficient and healthy creature that keeps all of its component cells healthy (and mentally happy).  It’s possible democracy is a mutation that will improve the self-regulation feedback loops that keep the organism healthy.  Or maybe not.  Maybe it will be replaced by something else.  From inside the beast, it’s hard to tell whether any progress is being made.  Mostly it feels like chaos.  But after all, the whole thing’s a miracle to start with.  So, bring it on.

Sort of a Personal Butterfly Effect

When I was about ten, I got my hands on a box full of books that came from the library of a New Jersey Catholic High School in the Philadelphia area.  It had a lot of stuff I wasn’t interested in but it did have a few items that I was.  There were copies of two books by C.S. Lewis; “The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe” and “The Screwtape Letters.”  The first book whetted my appetite for fantasy and the latter was an oddity that combined a comedic take on the devil with theology that didn’t currently interest me.

But a third book that was in that box was a book on astronomy.  It was called “Neighbors of the Earth.”  It was a collection of articles from the astronomy magazine “Sky and Telescope” that concerned the planets and other bodies that travelled around our star and made up the solar system.  For a young boy many of these articles were somewhat opaque because spectrographs were beyond my level of scientific accomplishment.  But there was plenty of things I could understand that changed a lot of the “facts” I had about the planets that I had begun to accumulate from science fiction stories.  The statement that, “the atmosphere of Venus consists largely of carbon dioxide” seemed to put the kibosh on my idea of a planet colonized by humans working on farms raising tobacco and coffee.  Later on, the surface temperature being 600 degrees Fahrenheit sealed any hopes of Venusians of any kind.  Then, the article, “Is There Vegetation on Mars?” provided the death blow to my thoughts about Martians.

But the book had many thought-provoking and for me enjoyable articles.  An article called, “Internal Structure of Jupiter and Saturn” introduced me to the concept of “metallic solid hydrogen.”  The idea that a gas could be turned into a solid metal was so exotic to my juvenile understanding of science that it probably sparked my first wishes to understand the mysteries of chemistry.

But looking at the book recently, I noticed that I never was very interested in the mysteries that surrounded the relatively recently discovered planet Pluto.  Even back then, the fact that Pluto seemed much too small to account for the perturbations in the orbit of Neptune was very disturbing to the astronomical community.  So, theories to explain this included either trying to convince themselves that Pluto’s diameter was much larger than observed or that its density was enormously higher than any other body in the solar system.  There was an “experiment” with metal balls of different materials and coated with materials of differing reflectivity to show how “specular reflection” could make a larger object look much smaller.  I’ll have to say it wasn’t very convincing.  And this made me think of all the current theories using dark matter and dark energy that are being used to explain measurements that defy the current models of how the universe works.  And this reminds me that our knowledge is always incremental and that we will never have all the answers.

But it’s interesting to see how that one box of unwanted books seems to have informed many of my intellectual leanings.  Sort of a personal butterfly effect.

Guest Contributor – Tregonsee – 07NOV2025 – FTL Drives

Well at least there is a theoretical model for an FTL drive the Alcubierre drive( https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Alcubierre_drive ) proposed in 1994. At present it has so many reasons we can’t do it (several different flavors of unobtainium, VERY large energies that even Antimatter would struggle to provide, and a likelihood that you can’t really steer the darned thing once you start it) that it is practically unachievable. Depending how all this dark matter/dark energy stuff falls out (and that is beginning to look pretty dodgy) things may get far better or far worse.

That said an antimatter drive (even a pulse antimatter drive, essentially an Orion drive using small matter antimatter/matter explosions) would be a godsend for reaching Mars the Asteroids or any other celestial body outside the Earth/Moon pair. Currently a Hohmann Orbit (minimum energy) to Mars runs 8-9 months of time and the window is only open every two years (26 months I think). At .01 G (a centi-G engine) this takes 64-112 days i.e. 2-4 months and position only affects time. At .1g (a deci-G engine) this drops to 36-76 HOURS (i.e. 1-3 days). The first matches early trips from Europe to the New World (e.g. the Mayflower took 70 days) which were ultimately commercially viable and establishing colonies was possible. The second is like rail trips across the US at rail’s peak in the 40’s and 50’s. That totally changes the relationship between Earth and the colonies.

Ad Astra per Aspera!!!

It’s a Lousy Job, But…

The Dunwich Autumnal Zombie-fest officially ended yesterday at 4pm when I and the other town officials who conduct this marathon nightmare put out the flames that we use to cremate the zombies.  It’s a really exhausting process.  We spend two weeks excavating a forty-foot deep 100 yard in diameter hole and then the guy who loses a series of card cuts has to sit all night in a cage suspended over the pit to lure the zombies into falling into the hole.  It’s a really disgusting job because the zombies smell awful.  Well, you guessed it.  I was the lure.  It’s such a long two nights.  But eventually the sun came up on Wednesday and I climbed along the boom of the crane and down the mast to the side of the pit and flooded the zombie-infested hole with diesel oil, topped it off with some gasoline, stepped back a good way and threw in a road flare.  It’s an interesting spectacle.  I don’t think they can feel pain so they just keep walking around in the inferno until they they’ve been thoroughly cooked.  By 4pm there was nothing left but bones and we bulldozed the soil back in again.

But it takes a couple of hot showers and a really good night’s sleep to feel normal again.  Listening to them moan sends shivers down your spine and at some point, they began trying to form a pyramid to reach me.  They never come close but it’s unnerving to watch them try.  And a few really smart and coordinated zombies climb up the crane.  I keep a bunch of long poles in the cage and when I’m sick of looking at them I push them off the boom into the pit.

I really need to find a better gig but it does pay rather well for a couple of weeks’ worth of work.  Plus, I get to see some old familiar faces one last time before recycling them for good.  Toward the end of the night, I saw a guy who had been driving behind me a few weeks ago.  It was four o-clock in the morning and the one light in Dunwich was in its blinking yellow mode.  So, I stopped to check the intersection for oncoming traffic and this guy starts laying on his horn and flashing his brights.  Then he almost side swiped me when passing me and drove off at about thirty miles an hour faster than the speed limit.  I’m guessing he must have ended up hitting a pole or boulder and the zombies must have come by and munched him before anyone found him.

Well, I flipped him off from inside the cage and then knocked him into the pit.  It might have been my imagination but it seemed like after he got up, he was shoving and bumping the other zombies in the pit quite a bit.  Well, old habits die hard they say.  I have to confess I was smiling while I watched him roasting in the pit.  Well, every job has its points.