Thursday, October 16, 2014

Hidden Theory Wars along the Sea Frontiers




Hidden Theory War (State of the Vision)

Some can see somewhere over the rainbow, can debate if black or red colors remain the same.  But most pass through event horizons, sensing something changed, anxious over fire or ending to empty oblivion unaware something has changed. Something perhaps hidden so outside their reality, totality as existing explained in their theory of everything.

Mirrors and shadows, as if one side of us is paralyzed, our arm from there across our chest must be another's arm or that of limbs lost in battle its shadow phantom lives.

Our falling is the difference in between, of that next beyond known backgrounds or phanerons. Of Mach, Newton, Einstein and Leibniz - even beyond the intuitions of Ramanujan our reference frame.

Theories are like the eternal Phoenix yet how many times the play of ashes, birth, and fire?  I read the parables of our confused messengers and messages, life seen a few steps further in the Omnium yet do not know if our hopes to become angels is more than a dead end with dead reckoning.

Now that the Omega begins to sleep again our hive colony breaks yet stands as one awhile, the philosopher in me trumps the scientists who as a part of the crackpot accusative divide where it can remain but none, that its denizens know in the transition the horizon of physics is transcended.

(Context of the thoughts behind this added poetically in comments to http://backreaction.blogspot.com/    Siri's song )

Friday, October 10, 2014

Synchronicity and Structural Physics



This section of the blog will archive the philosophic principles and abstract underlying assumptions and speculation I post here and elsewhere for a more unified foundation for stereonometry physics with emphasis on the alternative symmetry addressing our concepts of thermodynamics.

Tuesday, September 30, 2014

Empty Sea Shells


Empty Sea Shells
* * *
The pachyderms returned to the sea
to become dolphins, whales largest
in water as they on land, like sperms
*
They hear far away the low tones or
seek unique songs, echolocation
As gulls fly inland hear distant coasts
magnets in their beaks repel sky sharks
fleeing rare earth hidden things before bones
*
Not all in the pecking order of arrogance
survive, yet all like penguins fight to do so and
Cannot imagine by instinct's purpose, catastrophe
*
But that was sixty-five million years ago
blind to fear of cold rains of iridium
In rest keep warm, no sharks that must keep moving
back when Saturn's eternal rings formed

* * * *

Imperfect Sphere Sonnet
* * *
In the existential moment
we cannot know what is
Cause or what effect, what
is free-will or time determined chance
Necessity - a trap and yet an
escape thru forms  of imaginary
World's unstable at singularity
*
Yet of essence, beginnings, ends predicate
ultimate totality may vanish or transcend
Our collective soul half hidden
time waves over virial condensates
The defective individual so
amplifies light's and feeling's paradox
Thus works the universe, not otherwise
* *
My fallen sparrow, labyrinth your lost Earth
only the sound you make, head against a wall
Tells me what direction, your looping mind
anxiously avoiding, crossing, repeating
Words, fish bowl timed out yet seen infinite
yet you see me through the glass and cling
If I awaken love for you , my hope, I know
you must take wing
*
I'm yours if you want me to want you
life as my sister or my mate
Risking the healing stem in you that
October 1st may be too late.
* * * *

Light's Long Winters
* * *
Some live within the vanishing
at home with the outward darkness
Asked to learn as if a child in emptiness
remain a child by Time's leeward starkness
*
The sentient living world, explosions in exploding's
branches, rests, decays, consumes by burning
Recalling, prime the fiery pump, cold future yearnings
so easily set down as waters fall to crowded branching's
*
Until the span and roots, one great tree begun abundantly
returns to lightning heart struck soil a fairy ring
Into the upstart center sparks in echoes sing
in recapitulation's cradled flower dream redundancy
*
I, humble bee, kiss them in your mind's eye my reflections
Love's bond broken, banished, you hear no child's cry just
                          pearls one with their confections
* * * *
The Ferryman
* * *
When our paths cross in the moment
the universe of mirror, we separate, does not forget
Consciousness implied in the observer,
the ferryman, free to choose two ways
Yet follows only one beyond his choice
that the fox, chicken, and corn, only one
With him as he crosses rivers back and forth
so any two of them left on the bank horizons
Together are equal to each other and the third
*
Ley lines and the regions they describe
flatland as the colors four or on
The anchor ring seven colors, no cross overs
*
When light sleeps beyond the void am I still a part
Of Orenda, my shawled lady's brain, her rain barrel?
* * * *

Tuesday, September 23, 2014

Thresholds of Replication, Event Intervals of General Space



Thresholds of Replication, Event Intervals of General Space

* * *
It occurs to me that nature may express itself by our alternative assumptions of physics that for some authors the interpretation of quantum theory progresses from nothingness, light, light with color, then something like extrasensory perception.  What this amounts to in the idea of general space from beginnings and endings over intervals of events is the question of thresholds of replication.  Can our experiments be repeated as evidence of a physical truth?  Can the physical facts of an experiment be rather the product of individual desire or collective consensus?
*
If, in the oil drop experiment, a scaling of sizes to measure a single electron, and as some report Milliken fudged the data, is this an accident that the data came out according to his desire, or well, belief? Does it make a difference to how nature may blend or isolate her contiguous laws? Can these not be ultimately interchangeable as to the continuous and discrete?
*
There is something unreasonable comfortable about clock time.  The binding of ritual and renewal of surprise that say the same people come each day the same way by me as I wait by the bus stop?  This may loop from our right and left brains as a form of anxiety or having been there before by a few blending seconds.  Or as general chirality we partition things including our dreaming into our right or non-right brains.  Some with strokes on one side of their bodies do not know they are not a bilateral organism.  Unlike the dolphins we cannot sleep only on one side of our brains while the other side is awake.  But clock time can seem a prison also, a repeating cycle that suppresses dampens into chaos, the stimulus of surprise.
*
If nature does has such a mysterious, and likely synchronous thermodynamic element what seems to guide our events and tilts it at times to the magically favorable and unfavorable as if the universe at least or our collective wills or the matter itself felt a sentient being. Part of the job of fundamental theory would then be in this struggle of competing models an extension into the past or the future to predict so far what were the possible laws and states of expression that seem absolute.  Without a record as evidence, one that is not false, the abstract memory or projections may be recoverable as what was the state of historical laws. Such can be our feeling of the otherworldly in forecasting or retro-engineering them beyond what we can actually say the state of the weather.
*
Although cold fusion, and in issues of plasma pinching for hot fusion too, while in theory the phenomenon is possible by quantum theory, a quasi-probability which is intermittent yet will not amplify the access to energy, over the "omnic interval" of central distance, minimum or maximum as well the conservation ideas seeming fixed as defined by symmetry, that we can partition events seems unreasonably to fix states and measure as if the general laws only locally admit pigeon holing of quantum information is possible over general chance and necessity.
*
Abstract space itself is said to be able to exceed light speed as if an instantaneous illusion or without preferred frames of at least the  illusion of higher dimensions energy balanced as a maximum or minimum length requiring ultimately a set standard value at some degree of definition.
*
In the Fibonacci convergences to 1 or 0 the numbers add in a way that on any layer, or for that matter any physics that makes concrete a sheet without preferred angles or connected directions in the totality the sequences can begin and contained from each level as a beginning it again. Thus the question of low or high dimensions or every other one as squared is at the foundations conceptually something that can be the same thing.
*
That in the totality of a law, the ubiquity of gravity, the fixity of mass, as laws of physicality these may be the same thing. It is perhaps that some particles exist yet at the foundation are interchangeable such as the varieties of neutrinos and electrons observable only by the logic of our models.  Yet such shadow evidence may be there indirect without recourse to the reality we cling to sorting the particle dust, or that gravitons exist as if the physical universe itself is in a sense something we as scientists confuse with what may be more mysterious.
*
Journalism then is the quality of honesty and careful reporting as the ideal of science, yet is a language that in the passing of a message may be part of the general errors found in the translation. Yet nothing seems to forbid the messages not capable in the service of belief to defend and influence others for some agenda.  Technology, say a form of quantum computation alone, is beyond the issue of privacy and moral grounding of our traditions. For our instrumentation may not be a barrier between the state and what a sentient being is where the awareness vanishes or once transcending by the technology it can directly access the mainframe of higher physical laws.

* * * *

Sunday, September 21, 2014

Sagicorn in Tailspin (Part II) Perturbations



Sagicorn in Tailspin (Part II)   Perturbations
* * *
Professor Whitman rose to present his paper before the public
and his peers of the Progressive and Dialectical Natural Philosophy Society.
*
"Fellow space masters and aspiring knaves,
we hope that we will disturb the set
Thoughts of your continuum and thereby
bring the songs of light to light that we
Can measure indirect evidence for the
source and structures of still hidden things.
*
Our current visions follow down speculative
uncertain paths, separately, we building
Them running concepts into the ground
of deeper ends still too deep into the chaos.
*
You may note in the tug of war between
the raw verse of Shakespeare and of Goethe
Marching formally to the music of the twilight
of the gods, my free verse stands midway,
A compromise, Tycho Brae-like which orbs
dance around the Earth as center of the
Universe, which rhythms cause our
feet to dance even if we do not recognize the jazz.
*
I cannot guarantee, this side of cautious
dreaming if all is coincidence and only by
Accident we find Neptune from Uranus implied
but any errors are the fault of the author
Or perhaps ours and imperfect image we
transcend in principle further from
The mysterious Will, sources Alpha and Omega
of the lonely Creator God.
*
With due respect for Dr. Rodin, his glory
of the Kiss and of all thinkers,
The whole can be our colossus carved idols
as one, as well the parts assembled
That ultimately gravity divides from
electric sparks, twitching frogs severed legs
Tree toads we taste or toad stools of changing
colors to the context in stealth our forms and functions
Changing too the rise and fall of dreams, Frankenstein's
Hopeful monsters on a tight rope, hanging chain,
in the anguish of Faust that to this world
He does not belong - fire good, fire bad.
*
I propose then a radical compromise between the
large lambda cosmological constant, CC transliterated
and the small lambda of Casmir force, ll a compromise
On the question of minimum distance - rather
a center, a quasi-interval of monster dimensions drawn out
As far as we may see, deeper than our inborn sense of geometry,
A little deeper than Compton of flatland and Fermi
dreams of limitless dimensions or expansions.
*
Before you is a box of six sides, but what is the
length of its diagonal if its shadow vacuum is filled?
The tallest spire can be placed within it, so too if the
light is adsorbed to wander awhile in a lost internal earth.
*
Yet this is but one of many views, w can
unfold it outward as well, so imagine
Many worlds and multiverse our choice between them
nature made of noise, scaleless but with imperfections
Binding both the high and low dimensions
of an abstract atom, symmetries, conservation,
Broken rules of imagined renormalization
which led Holy Planck to ponder the discrete
*
The eleven states of ice, 9 and 1, some stable, complete
so enters quantum theory - but what of the
Other end of the 120 elements, the electrons
inside their twelve fold and simple five fold rhombihedra?
While there is more than space's natural elements
more mass-less less space, more space - less mass,
Even a little more than natural elements
ultimately and asymptotically conserving the
Physical, the electron shells are the four space dodecahedral
polytope and the nuclear shells the half 600 dual of tetrahedra.
*
What is not physical we cannot disprove by today's models.
not where the sparks and gravity both either discrete or one
So the laws resonate up, down, to proton, flowers, body cells.
*
As if we know everything, this generation of higher flight.
we are an anxious species not putting what is
Known together when it comes to what may
end us as a species, like the black hole in our
Hearts moving, distorting the background
of stars, or the asteroids we may not
Deflect from gravity's keyholes so that they
fall into to reversals of potential and kinetic
No unified theory of kinematics, all
these same doom end's we may perturb
More than predict how likely the scatterings
even for the comets in the higher clouds of Pluto.
*
So it is perhaps not that in ignorance we
fancy we hold the theory of everything, but that which
We know god-for-sure copper, we lazing
reptiles with tri-chambered hearts soaking up the sun
Our cosmic heartbeats does not heed.
*
Thank you for listening. There will be no
questions you should not try to answer on your
Own, nor advice which paths to follow, which
laurels or dead ends.  The city council
Now decrees funding shared with the sciences
as well the established arts, so stick to your
Soldiering guns if your are of that persuasion for in
the big picture what of time you have to put on
The white-boards or the canvass, work for and
count on one chance your painting and on yourself.
*
The next lecture, after coffee and cookies
will be given by professor Vonnegut
Concerning quantum cat cradle's and other
string theories with a little entertaining legerdemain."
* * * *




Sagicorn in Tailspin (Part I)


Sagicorn in Tailspin

*****
Having rejected the role of forward air control over the civil wars of theoreticians fought in the abstract ground of concrete and jungle conflicts he longed as much for the music and poetry to return to the world as much as free to contemplate the universe in peace.
But the order does not trust its ex-soldiers anymore than poets or those with mystical worship promoting discontent short of what chaos reinvigorates the empire if needed for the moment.  They are seen in the common flow of civilization always to be contained in as measured, rationed threat.
* * *
Part I - He Attends the Far Rock'a'bye Lectures
* *
Between September and November, the Sagicorn looked both ways into his past and future incarnations.  Between the red and blue shifts he wondered at the up and down between the infra-yellow and ultra-green.
*
As Olney, the SphereDream along the endless beach his sense of self integrating over time to make sense of the world as well, Sagicorn recalled a lecture at night he attended at the Hall of Natural Philosopher Saints atop the seven pavilions, the university in the center of his beloved Far Rock'a'bye.
*
For he had spent the day in the market square at the parades, walking casually by street vendors selling the ancient nectar of the gods fermented foams, trinkets of sparkling metal, beads of the glass bead blowers, wood carvers.  He grew a little sleepy full of exotic pastries full of meat linked through time, spice and heirloom legumes, explosive tangy mustard's.
*
Pink and blue cotton candy, sea foam taffy, he did not have a solid sense of quantity anymore than what the clock time was- he enjoyed the old steam tractors nostalgically on display, their work like the lives of his earthly forefathers done in the sorrows and joys of their lifetimes, the symbols on their coins slight shifting designs that marked the era of each generation, some as gold plated copper, silver cut electrum, some as common aluminium tokens worked into necklaces.
*
The crowds of gaily dressed happy people, some of the children face painted filled the street, their paths changed, attracted to the jingle of the belly dancers or avoiding the strange scents of the exotic barnyard animals and hauntingly familiar antics of the monkeys filled him with joy for this shift of season's holiday of October Fete.
*
Yet, at the lectures, the unity of the all the thinkers and the world made him realize he did not need to learn the local and technical dialect within himself, and that in the endless civil wars of models he had misinterpreted outside of their clan, some of the meaning of their words. Perhaps the next incarnation and generations will think this was a good thing. Adapt their thoughts as he had done despite his cherished first ideas he kept close to his heart, despite that falling asleep at the lectures he now recalls the words that curved his paths and crushed his dreams.
*
The drunken poet or those possessed in some places keep respect from the villagers and fisher folk.  But unlike them with statuses to guard, or wealth, the age old question if a philosopher can love a simple girl is right up there with the minstrels of Old France who brought us through healing music the myths of chivalry and romance.
* * * *

Thursday, September 18, 2014

SphereFarmer



SphereFarmer I
* * *
If ultimately, SphereDoctor, we speak the same language of nature, where at the frontiers of the spacetime continuum, we vindicate so as to expand or transcend our mentors; we chimney sweeps made of and looking at the soot of our dark tunnels of vague discoveries that we follow gladly in sacrifice of what given in one lifetime may consume us; our magic carpets rediscovered, retro-engineered, to ride the universe as we ride the Earth bound sky; hoover there somewhere at the unknown borderlands where or how our gloves reverse; the mirrored centrifugal and centripetal forces from a Gods-eye view inside out, some end yet eternal fall; some half Klein's bottle divided thrice to give two interlocking rings; in the higher translation you honor me that I, but a poet, stand among the theory gods - as all of us may so aspire; whatever the game of snakes and ladders,  favorable or indifferent, we hunter-gatherers of dreams and farmers of the spheres.
* * * *

 SphereFarmer II

* * *
Along the barbwire fence
farmer Yow's dairy cows the
Kids gave names
our drafty house was Gingerbread
By the mud dirt road
On the wire perched songbirds so on it
Plums, apples, wild grapes and cherries growed
*
Doll heads, rusted firetruck parts,
wagon wheels, plastic planes and rattles
Toy soldiers, indians and cowboys
rings and daisy chains of babbles
New fallen things after it snowed
they named it Broken Toy Road
Their world black tractors, field mice, turtles, toads
* *
Through the witches' wood to old Watt's store
I carried them, they loved to sing:
"Blacktors are very, very black
they can give you a heart attack.
Blacktors are very, very mean
they are infra-green..."
*
All through the witches' woods
the shadow cows chewed their cuds
The owls at night silent, swift robin Robin Hoods
with pairs of yellow eyes still and
Distant beads from my lantern light
A gentle rain of autumn leaves or
an acorn falling on the tin roof echoed
Brisk October healing past random fright.

* * * *
SphereFarmer III
* * *
The SphereFarmer, far from the city lights
that all the stars and milky way seen clearly
Did not know life was hard, nor that
in this incarnation of the Sagicorn,
Born Octember 42nd, it was paradise
*
Oh, the traveling salesmen made their rounds
country doctors, itinerant preachers
Nay saying SpherePeer bureaucrat tax collectors
liver salt merchants and
Snake oil salesmen like city cops on the beat
they could not understand how this SphereCowboy and
his Sphere-Sweetheart-of-the-Rodeo lived
Or the Freddy Electric utility linesmen how the lights were
on as he used mirrors and lit a thousand candles.
* *
Angels and Goons locked in mechanical clocks
like the hippie commune neighbors became
Alarmed separately or together or in a
spiral of happiness downward found in their loony tunes
Yet all felt archetypal, three bears and
their Goldie Locks partridge made of private stardust
Time like Japanese glass bobbins breaking free
lost at sea from rotting macrame fish nets
To roam the bounded currents as all who hide
the face to pumpkin keep the mystery of woman
Our imaginary friends and demons staring
back at us with grins in a fun house mirror
SphereDoctors in the name of her creative freedom contain her
those fire spitters, sword swallowing carvers, toxic sugar tinctures
* *
After the city riots, wars, myths of acts of God storms
Sagicorn in reluctant  triage where nothing
Cold can be declared dead, became light,
having learned a little of love and forgiveness
Thus he uplifted with this world those
he met on his soaring flights not too
Late for those forlorn of hope and healing
But he had to sit down on the ground to write on
his Poet's walk, so capture a deep thought before he forgot it
* * * *

SphereFarmer IV   (Latin Lovers)
* * *
The Aether wall is masculine
 the door feminine and
The roof is neuter
His the garden, hers a pear tree
but the body, it is neutral
Continuous the guys, gals
of oceanic continuua, Plantonic nulls
One, the Good, balanced continuum
yet sad endures their tragic love
Hidden, unrequited, two bouys and two gulls
all high walls and new doors
Break, decline and fall, our great empires
as if we never touch on all fours - I, we, and they,
 strong and stronger, strongest deep desires
* *
Yet we need touch more than food to thrive
develop by fetal dreams a cave, the womb
Each cell and work assigned, one soul the hive
one strand of fire holding up the sky and her new moon
None hopeful monsters trapped, still born, a tomb
nor their five-fold twins that would be cloned, conceived
Before they're too one whole, upon a self to believe
* * * *

SphereFarmer V  (Faces in the Newspaper)

* * *
So tired of broken people, half lives
who let the candle without rest
Burn and melt so bright, broken toy universe

His face I recall, ten years since
the coffee shop playing chess he
Nodding off, not kicked out, I moved for him

His crushing meds and snorting everything
myself a one horse shay, minor decay
Though timeless we shared wrinkling speed of light

I am surrounded by bearded ladies and
Buddha breasted gentlemen, to late
Their brittle bones, receding gums, creative teeth

The end of the worlder's, slow, catch up
Beauty in our beastuary, at breakfast read obituaries

* *
He  looked so good, his face in the paper
like Echo, I let her go, wrote her off, met later
Her needle marks red spots in years will fade

Take the edge off they said, her choice and
between accommodating cops and her sandman
She was convinced she'd die before I do

The turnkeys do not know they'er mentally ill
Oh they monitor the blood, add to the pills
To prolong, not make better, slaves for their bills

I cannot whisper at your wake we'll bring you back
Love's fogs and urns, dark clouds of smokestacks

* *
Passion's fleeting interval, superdetermined
yet degrees of freedom set our energy of orbits
My words awake your child in your silver hair doubts

Mirrors of each other through the roundabouts
to want me to want you, but I am not unfair only
You can say to those telling you how to live who's demon

Stand up for yourself engagement, wedding rings too big
sparking think of me, junk gumball jewelry my cosmic
heartbeats, our bus rides together, sweet words, no regrets

Yet in the best of world's would that you could be my
Cinnamon, and I could be your chocolate.

* * * *