Search This Blog

Showing posts with label Short stories. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Short stories. Show all posts

Wednesday, 31 January 2018

A Short Story I created in May 2013 (the events described probably took place on 28 or 29 May), Modified Sporadically until April 2014, and then Modified Heavily this Afternoon (31 January 2018)

Portrait of the Artist Chopping Chicken

He grabbed one of the four glistening, plump pink thighs from the black polystyrene foam container. It was slimy and slippery and he almost dropped it. Now tight in his grip, he slapped it down on the big plastic chopping board. He flipped the thigh over and unfurled its flaps: an underside fatmottled and gristly. He picked up the large, shiny kitchen knife from the left of the chopping board and, in this motion, roughly determined the middle of the thigh. He drew down the knife at this co-ordinate and began to saw – rapid strokes, aggressively, vigorously. It was harder to cut than he had expected: the knife seemed blunt; the chicken too tough.
He gently placed the knife on the left side of the chopping board. He flipped over the right half of the thigh so the smooth pink side was showing again. He rotated it 90° clockwise, then lifted it and put it down higher on the chopping board – away from the other half to leave some space for sawing. He drew down the knife onto the far right-hand side of the half-thigh and began sawing along a vertical axis. At last he managed to wrestle away a sliver of flesh from the recalcitrantly splaying mass. He grabbed the sliver (slimy, sticky) and wristflicked it into the nearby ceramic bowl.
He repeated the actions described in the last sentence until the chicken had been separated into roughly equal slivers, then repeated the actions described in the last three sentences except with the left half instead of the right half, then repeated the actions described in every sentence and clause up to this one seven more times (there were two cartons of four thighs he had to chop-up).
Eventually, under the tap, he sluiced the slime off his hands… and suddenly realised the lyrical, onomatopoeic/synaesthesia-exploiting potential of the verbal documentation of the actions he’d just performed!


An Extremely Bleak, Russian-style Short Story I Created in August 2013 and last Modified in July 2014

A Journey – of a widow from her bed to her bathroom with the express purpose of urination

It was morning and the light was shining on the bed through the window, the curtain funnelling it into a sharp and sallow beam. She could feel its warmth on her face, but it was cold elsewhere in the room. Cold and silent.
Got to get up.
The clock to her right, on the bedside table, was a black digital alarm clock. It was a clock manufactured in the 1980s (she had had it since the 1980s, when she bought it with her husband at that technology store that doesn’t exist anymore on Strone St near the station; it had sat in the exact same place since then) and its red, segmented numbers read 9:00.
Time to get up.
She grabbed the doona in her hand and carefully lifted it up and off her body. Now she felt very cold. She was fully exposed, too, apart from the thin protection afforded by her nightgown. Conscious of being exposed, her eyes drifted down her body: it was frail and gaunt and wrinkled and spotted and quite hideous.
It’s cold.
She sat up, using her arm as a shaky support, then slowly swung her legs round until they were hanging off the bed, then carefully stepped down on to the ground; it was freezing-cold.
Floorboards, always so cold in the morning.
Her slippers were neatly placed, equidistantly apart, just where she was placing her feet. She put her feet inside them, then she stood up.
She began to walk gingerly towards her old wooden wardrobe, feeling the stiffness of her legs and feeling pain in her hips and knees. She clasped her hands around the knob on the wardrobe door and pulled it: the door creaked open, slowly. Her dressing gown was hanging on a coat-hanger to the left, away from all the other articles of clothing which she hadn’t worn for a long time. It was blue and fluffy.

She remembered buying it, recently, at Myer. It was the last proper thing she had purchased, and even so, she had only bought it out of necessity, which was that her last one had been so tatty, and washed to such a state of thinness, that it verged on nonexistence. She had not enjoyed buying it either: she had not enjoyed going to the shopping mall, she had not enjoyed how everything was so big and noisy and shiny and grand, and she had not enjoyed the false friendliness of the staff at the shop. She had returned home on the bus with a bitter taste in her mouth. And when she had entered her house that day she had felt even more miserable. The house had felt even colder and more deathly silent than usual.
But she had quickly tried to cheer herself up because she knew being miserable was pointless.
Misery – that sick feeling in the stomach, those thoughts, those frenzied thoughts – what was the point of even humouring it?
Just after entering the house, she had started running the bath. Then she got in, began reading a Spike Milligan book and her misery dissipated within no time at all. She always followed that exact same procedure when she felt down. Spike Milligan books were great destressing agents, she found, because they were so stupid. She liked them – despite having read all of them at least three times each – because they distracted her with their ridiculous humour.

She put the dressing gown on. It felt fluffy and warm. Now wearing both her slippers and her dressing gown, the atmosphere no longer felt so hostile; no longer so cold and big and empty. It remained silent though. The only sound was the gentle padding of her slippers on the floorboards as she hobbled solemnly into the ensuite bathroom.
Her bathroom was almost entirely green and very out-dated in style. She knew its appearance must seem bizarre to a stranger, but she, personally, was used to it. In the bathroom’s far right corner was a fairly-standard looking toilet and it was that which she was walking towards.
As she did walk towards it, she made a note to herself not to look into the mirror above the sink. She took a slight sideways glance anyway; she immediately regretted it. When she reached the toilet, she sat down and urinated, listening to the sound of her piddle connecting with the toilet water and thinking of little. After that was finished, she stood up slowly, with sore knees, and flushed the toilet. Subsequently, she walked over to the sink – looking down to avoid the mirror – turned the tap on, and washed her hands. She rubbed them slowly and carefully against the hand-towel, making sure they were completely dry.
She turned on the cold shower tap, then the hot one.  

The day would be long.

Vignette from 17 October 2014

“If you’re stressed, have a chat, you don’t have to tell me what you’re stressed about,” my dad said, sitting on the table across from me.

“Ok,” I replied ,thinking about the fact I was being so taciturn. I was thinking about how I would express the fact I’m naturally this way, if that’s even true. I began brainstorming possibilities for how to express it: “I’m a reticent person, I’m an aloof person, I’m introverted.” I eventually decided to say nothing. I continued staring into the distance, spooning peas into my mouth. 

Two Surreal/Ridiculous Short Stories from 2014 that Evince my Frustration with the Strictures of "Creative" Writing for the HSC

(The first was written for the "After the Bomb" module in English Extension I (I actually submitted this one for homework and was criticised by my teacher for taking the piss), and the second was a "Belonging" in Advanced English creative that I never submitted, for obvious reasons.)

Expendable

George Lawrence was walking quickly. The early morning air was thickly foggy and it was drizzling with rain. The footpath in front of him was wet and a little slippery. The city looked even more grey than usual. He couldn’t imagine more drab concrete towers than the ones that towered above him on either side of the road.
It’s like 1984. Haha, coz it is.   
He felt stressed. He had woken up stressed, having been told the news yesterday by his boss that today was to be the day of sackings, and he only felt more so now. He was definitely a prime candidate for sacking. Unpopular, quiet, not especially productive – yes he ticked all the boxes for dismissal.
Fuck.
Maybe this would be the final time he would ever walk to his office at Williams Wealth – that was a harrowing thought. As he continued walking swiftly along the footpath, feeling sick to the stomach, he glanced down at his watch: 20 past 8. He needed to get to work early otherwise the boss would basically have no problem firing him at all – he’d have the excuse he needed. He could even imagine what that ugly little man would say:
You weren’t even punctual on the day I’d told you people would be fired. That displays an enormous amount of laziness and, I think, umm, what’s the word?, contempt for this business. I have no choice but to fire you.  
George started cantering. He was encumbered by his briefcase and the inflexibility of his work trousers, but he still was able to gather a fair bit of speed. The buildings next to him were now just a blur, while the people walking along the footpath seemed to stop moving, becoming mere obstacles for him to avoid. For a few seconds, he forgot he was meant to be stressed. As the wind rushed past his face and through his hair, he forgot everything: he forgot how drab the city was and what the boss had said; he forgot work, he forgot where he was going. He was just bounding along the wet, slippery footpath, bounding through space and time, through an infinite greyness, forever…
But then he remembered everything again. He realised he was only a street away from his work. He slowed immediately. He felt sick to the stomach as he inched along, one step, two steps, three steps, four steps, five steps, six steps, seven steps, eight steps, nine steps, ten steps.
No, I can’t just inch along, I have to hurry up, I need to get to work. I can’t get fired.
He started cantering again. The canter soon turned into a desperate lurch, one which was expending all his energy and will-power. He was getting closer and closer to the building in which he worked. Finally he was there. Breathing heavily, he walked in the open door of his building, walked over to the lift, and pressed the button. He waited.
Ding!
The doors opened and he walked in. He pressed level 13. The elevator whirred and he watched the numbers light-up one by one.
11, 12, 13. Ding!
The doors opened and he walked out. He turned right down the corridor, walked towards the big door at the end of the vestibule, and pushed it open. Immediately he was hit by a wave of indistinct chatter. He gazed over the familiar bureaucratic scene: there were desks everywhere, most of them occupied, as a multitude of people tapped away on their typewriters.
Suddenly he noticed the boss, with his dumpy body and ugly bald head, was walking towards him from the other side of the room.
Why would he walk right towards me? Surely that means I’m fired.
The boss reached him, and now George could see the true horror of his blotchy and jowly face. He hadn’t noticed before but he had a hideous little mouth, a mouth which was now gaping open.
“I just wanted to have a little private chat with you, George, to let you know before I make the big speech to everyone here at Williams Wealth that I never even, umm what’s the word?, considered you for the cuts I am forced to make. You are a really valued member of my staff and I really appreciate your work ethic. Your work – ”
Suddenly the roof caved-in in front of him with an enormous crash and women screamed. Ceiling plaster was showering down. George saw that the material from the ceiling was now where a few desks used to be. People were under it. They were trapped.  

Bomb. 


Untitled

Susan stabbed a fork into the stub of meat she could see poking out of the murky, seething broth and pulled it towards her. A big hunk of soft, cartilaginous meat, tightly hugging a thick bone. Her fork only had a tenuous grip on it. She tried to quickly bring it towards her plate before it had a chance to fall off the fork, but globs of meat slipped off and flopped onto the table. A mixture of corporeal fluid and broth oozed out of them, seeping into the white tablecloth.
“Blast,” she whispered to herself.
“Here, let me pick that up for you,” Andrew’s dad said. He used his chopsticks to pick up the pieces on the table and put them into her little round bowl.
“I extend my sorrow a propos that prior error and request clemency,” Susan said.
“Don’t worry about it,” Andrew’s dad said, smiling.
“Yes, it’s really fine,” his mum said, smiling also.
Susan looked across the table at Edmund and he smiled too, but a bit more wryly.
“The comestibles are tremendously delectable,” Susan said. Susan could see that Andrew’s dad was reaching over to Andrew to ask for a translation. Andrew whispered it into his father’s ear.
Andrew’s father looked back at Susan. “Thank you very much, you’re too kind.”
“I find that praise to be very gratifying indeed. I endeavour always to act with a considerable degree of magnanimity,” she replied, smiling.
Andrew’s dad smiled at her again. While he was clearly trying to conceal his confusion and – despite his best efforts – slight contempt for Susan’s eccentric mode of communication, Susan could nevertheless discern it. She could see the slight strain in his grin, the subtle coldness in his eyes. She felt horrible that she had this effect on people who did not share her upbringing. The problem was that she simply spoke a different dialect of English from this man, and the simple reason for that was that she was raised in a different household. She could do nothing about it, and that was what made it so hard to bear.
Susan decided to tuck in to the meaty meal beneath her. The rich, spicy smell emanating from it was enticing. She stabbed a piece of meat and inserted it into her mouth. It dissolved on her tongue in an instant, and all she was left with was the intense gustatory sensation, the corporeality, the spices, the richness. That piece of meat was truly the best tasting food she had ever put in her mouth. It was otherworldly.
Suddenly she was floating in an ethereal, intangible space, sucrescent spools of light swirling around her, tipping and tumbling forward, alone, together, with all the orgiastic potential in the world.
She was back at the small white table, with the big broth-filled pot in the middle and Andrew’s face opposite her and his mum to her left and his dad to her left. Back in the dark room with the lunar, spindly-digited clock suspended high on the wall to her left, and the cramped, dirty kitchen behind her. Back with her body and its blue jumper and black jeans and its eyes that were now turning in on themselves, observing the fleshy insides of her cranium, her brain, purple and heavily veined, bumpy but soft, somehow gelatinous…
When her eyes rolled back towards the table, the entire family was gazed intently at her, with expressions of shock and concern.
“Are you alright?” Andrew’s mum asked.
“I can affirm this inquiry.”
“She often does this,” Andrew assured his mum.
Susan felt elated; the appreciation of the food Andrew’s parents had prepared her, a synecdoche for their Oriental culture, had enabled her to transcend her socioeconomic, class and racial differences with Andrew’s family and she now belonged.   


A Short Story I Wrote in February 2015

Google Ads

Michael was lying on his bed, staring at his brightly-lit laptop in his otherwise pitch-black room. The time was 11:16 PM. He had just clicked on some weird Bjork music video on Youtube without real desire. Suddenly, an ad that popped up at the bottom of the screen: “Schizophrenia: Don’t get left in the dark.” Paired with the words sat a man in a dark room with a single sallow lamp illuminating his face. Just near the top were discernible the words “A Google ad.” He rushed to press the ‘x’.
Immediately, he felt sick to the stomach. How did they know? How could they possibly know? He thought back to whether he had typed anything into google that might suggest the existence of schizophrenic tendencies in him. But there was nothing that could have done it. He probably had a very unusual google history but nothing that would indicate schizophrenia. So what was going on? Was the word unreal then? Were the CIA actually after him? Was that stuff true?
Of course not, he told himself. Of course not, of course not, you fucker. But he continued to feel sick in the stomach.
Can’t you see the obvious irony? You’re experiencing paranoid, disturbed thoughts from the appearance of an ad about schizophrenia! It was the appearance of the ad that actually triggered it! You can’t do what they what they want, now, can you? Funny. Except I shouldn’t have said they. Who are they? Maybe there is a they? No. There isn’t. But I’m not schizophrenic; I shouldn’t worry. They just detected an irregularity in my google searches but it doesn’t matter. Nobody is monitoring me. It doesn’t matter. Some things can’t be explained. It doesn’t matter.

The video continued, and, despite himself, so did the thoughts. How could this video be real? It’s so weird and unnatural. Maybe Bjork isn’t a human. No. Don’t. No no.

A Very Short Short Story I Created in September 2013 and last Modified in July 2014

Intellectual vs Plebeian, who will win?

“I posit, that is rather contumelious behaviour, and that you are an impertinent, odious cretin.”
“Stop speaking like that you cunt.”
“No. I shan’t.”
“What the fuck is wrong with you? Do you actually want to get wrecked?”
“No, thank you, it wouldn’t bestow upon me great pleasure; on the contrary, it would endow me with great suffering and anguish.”
“Can you actually shut the fuck up right now?”
“If I said yes I would be lying because I would still be speaking.”
“Seriously, shut the fuck up or I’ll smash you.”
“OK.”




Spike Milligan-esque or Hellerian Absurd Short Story I wrote in September 2013 (age 16)

Inconsequentially used twice in this title, it is inconsequentially adverbial/Don’t read this story

Amoebic Dysentery was born without a chin.
When he had come out of his mum’s nether regions covered in slime, with a grotesque and foetal aspect, everyone in the room had been revolted. Revolted, shocked, sickened, horrified.
The mother spoke first, in a tone of indignant outrage, “No child of mine shall be born without a chin, a chin is a fundamental part of a child of mine. I refuse to accept that this child of mine is a child of mine, it has no chin. Next thing it’ll have no child of mine.”
The doctor replied: “Such profound words, you must be a very well-educated woman.”
“I was educated at the school of hard arithmetic.”
“Do you mean "knocks"?”
“No that’s a boys’ school.”
“But you’re a woman.”          
“Exactly, and I was in the past too.”
“Where is that region?”
“It no longer exists.”
“OK José.”
“No, my name’s stay-at-home mum.”
“Isn’t that your profession?”
“A stay-at-home mum isn’t a profession, you dumbo jimbo.”
“That doesn’t rhyme and my name isn’t jimbo.”
“I didn’t say it was.”
“Yes you did.”
“What?”
“Why?”
“Who?”
“What do you want me to do with the lump of slimy flesh that came out of your – dare I say – private parts? I can chuck it out the window if you want.”
“Why the hell would I want that?”
“It has no chin.”
“Good point, Doctor. Hmm, it’s a tough decision… I guess I’ll have to think about it.”
She lay there on the bed thinking about it. He was thinking about her thinking about it and thinking about what she must be thinking about it and thinking about the fact that he was thinking about her thinking about it and thinking about the nature of thinking about the fact that he was thinking about her thinking about it and wondering slightly paranoidly if anyone else was real because he couldn’t know if this was all a dream and he was the only one with real consciousness because that was possible he reckoned.
She came to a conclusion: “No thank you.”
“Thank god you chose to do that” he said, grasping the baby in his hand above his head like an NFL ball, ready to hurl it as far as possible out of the eighth story hospital window.
“You looked like you were pretty happy to do it though.”
“Oh, it’s all a façade – a veneer I put up to deal with people in my work. You have to stay impersonal, that’s the way to succeed.” 
“You should write a self-help book entitled “You have to stay impersonal, that’s the way to succeed.””
“No thank you, I hate self-help books. I can help myself very well thank you.”
“Thank you for what.”
“What?”
“What?”
“What?”
“What?”
The woman’s husband had been in the room the whole time, holding his wife’s hand. He spoke, suddenly: “What?”
The doctor replied, suddenly: “Why are you joining in this conversation all of a sudden? I thought you were perfectly happy staring into the corner.”
“I wasn’t – on the inside. I was dealing with a great deal of inner turmoil as you spoke animatedly to each other. I felt isolated and alone.”
His wife spoke, “You want sympathy? I’m the one who’s been busting my gut for the last twelve hours.”
The doctor spoke, “It wasn’t your gut, it was your pelvic region because that’s where the baby comes out of.”
“Really?” she replied, extremely sceptical of this far-fetched piece of information.
“Yeah, trust me, I’m a doctor, I know my anatomy.”
“What do you know about Anatomy?” the husband said.
“Who’s Anatomy?” the wife said.
“A rose by any other name would smell as sweet.” the husband said, with a smug expression on his face, secretly – he thought it was secret at least but it might not have been because he couldn’t help looking smug – proud of his remembrance of such a quote and the extensive knowledge he had just impressed of it on the other two people in the room. Well, it was three including Amoebic Dyssentry but he was really just a lump of slimy flesh.
The doctor replied: “This is true.”
There was a long pause, then he continued, “It is true because the sensory receptors used when you smell a rose are not connected its name.”
“You just don’t understand poetry” the husband said, deeply humiliated by the fact that the doctor had won the intellectual competition – though he wouldn’t show it – though he would because his cheeks had flushed deepest darkest red like a – rose.  
“Your cheeks have gone bright like a-a rose… Ha ha how ironic!” the doctor shouted aggressively.
Still lying on the bed, pale and haggard like a woman who had just gone through the exhausting most terrible ordeal that is childbirth because she had, the woman spoke: “Your cheek by any other name would smell as sweet.”
Her husband said thank you and as he did began to blush even more. Now his face was the reddest thing on the entire planet – maybe even the entire universe – a vision of purest, unadulterated red.
“Someone’s gone a bit red” the doctor said whilst eating some bread and scratching his head and somewhere else in the hospital someone was recently dead.
“That’s a bit morbid.”
“What is?”
“A hospital.”
“True.”
“Or is it false?”
“It’s definitely true.”
“Or is it false?”
“It is impossible to know anything, including what I just said because that’s an unsubstantiated assertion” the doctor said.
“So it’s impossible to know that you know that it is impossible to know anything” the husband said.
They shouted in harmonious unison: “No yes no yes no yes no yes no yes no yes no yes no yes no yes no yes no yes no yes no no yes no yes no yes no.” It went on eternally.

Amoebic Dysentery joined in as soon as he could speak.


Thursday, 16 July 2015

Technical Exercise

I had just come out of a purple patch when I hit the rough trot. The thing is, I had been giving 110% at work, really putting in the hard yards and all that, but I guess I just kind of drew the short straw. Or maybe my boss couldn’t tell his ass from his elbow. I don’t really know myself. I guess I’m pretty in the dark about it. All I really know is that I had a big fall from grace. I really hit the ground hard, and it was hard to pick myself back up. You know the story. They say you shouldn’t count the chickens before they hatch, and I guess I stuffed that up. I thought I was going great guns, juggling a lot of balls, but then this curveball came along and I derailed. I’ve really been dealt a bad hand, and I don’t exactly know how I’ll be able to brush it off.

You learn from these mistakes though. I guess if I’m ever coasting again, taking it real easy, and then I get stopped dead in my tracks by another hurdle like this one, I’ll be prepared. Maybe I’ll be ready to take evasive action. They say too many cooks spoil the broth, but also that many hands make light work. I think the last one is more accurate. I’m gambling on the last one. I think it’ll come up good if I stick by my mates. You know, sticking together – that’s the ideal. It’s funny how you can be on cloud nine one day, and then the next you’re totally in the dumps, really in the wars, so to speak. But every cloud has a silver lining, they say, so maybe she’ll be right in the end. At the end of the day, I guess I take solace from the fact that whatever doesn’t kill you makes you stronger.


*Editor's (/Superego's) Note: You missed out "axe to grind" and "up in arms", which would actually have been very easy to fit in. No doubt countless others, too. 

Tuesday, 28 April 2015

A Thought Experiment/Short Story called "Don't worry about remembering stuff: Google will soon become your brain"

Don’t worry about remembering stuff: Google will soon become your brain

Here’s a thought experiment that was originally inspired by (but not drawn from) an article I read on the occasionally interesting internet blog called “Brain Pickings”.
Suppose, if you will, that you were somehow transported back in time to the 1920s – to be precise, let’s say the date is 11am on 16 June 1925. Suppose also that your iPhone was in your pocket when you entered whatever portal or machine that got you there and that it has survived the journey.
The place you have arrived at is a big, strange room. Directly in front of you is a wall that reaches up to your neck, concealing most of your body. In front of this wall is a large crowd of people, all of whom are staring at your head. They are almost exclusively male, these people, and almost exclusively odd looking, with many of them seeming rather unkempt and lazily dressed, and a highly disproportionate number exhibiting extremely messy hair. Suddenly you begin to recognise a few familiar faces in the crowd – in fact, many. You see Albert Einstein, Bertrand Russell, Marie Curie, Ludwig Wittgenstein, James Joyce, Alan Turing… a pattern rapidly reveals itself in your mind: all of them are geniuses in their respective fields. After a quick survey of the crowd, it becomes clear that they are, more precisely, the one hundred sharpest minds of 1925. You feel very small and insecure. You are just beginning to feel a deep regret about the very bold decision to travel back to 1925 when their spokesperson (let’s just say it’s anyone but Joyce because then I’d feel compelled to try to mimic his idiolect and I couldn’t pull that off), steps out from the crowd, and begins to speak:
“We don’t know who you are or why you are standing behind a wall with only your head exposed. We also don’t know how we came to be here, or where this room is, or what purpose it normally serves. Naturally, this is causing all of us a great deal of consternation. Nevertheless, being all of us very practical people, we have decided to try to make something good of this experience: we hereby challenge you to an extremely rigorous general knowledge test.”
You feel ill. Two hundred beady genius eyes bear down on you, burning a massive hole in your face.
“Two teams shall partake in this quiz, namely, all of us and you. There is only one rule: none may consult a book. Seeing as none of us have any books in our possession and the door out of this unfurnished room is barred, this rule should be quite straightforward for everyone to observe. Since we should like to be able to confer without a sense of stress or urgency if the answer to a particular question does not immediately come to one of us, we also decree that there shall be no time limit. Naturally, however, in the event that both teams have the correct answer the team which answers first shall be declared the winner, so there is an incentive for rapidity.
The last matter we must clarify before we begin pertains to the questions. You may be wondering how many of these there shall be and how they shall be selected. Well, we have decided that there shall be precisely one hundred questions, each of which shall be chosen and asked by a different one of us. Evidently, he who poses the question in any given round shall be debarred from participating in that round, assuming instead the role of arbiter for its duration.  In case you are concerned that some of us might be tempted to abuse our powers as arbiter, I would like to stress that the far majority of us here are, by reason of our employ and character, interested in the truth above all else – in fact, you might say to the detriment of all else. [Some chuckles of assent from the crowd]. As far as I’m aware, each of us here holds the view that, in general, it matters not who utters a statement, as long as it is true. Thus, I would think it at least extremely unlikely that any of us would engage in such malfeasance. However, if an arbiter does whisper the answer to our team or wrongfully declare us to be the winner, I think you may trust the rest of us to condemn that person and annul the round. I believe this fact ought to suffice to disabuse you of your putative concern.
Although we all aspire to probity, as has been made clear enough, we must insist that you consent to this questionnaire on pain of death, because we are all very eager to play it.”
“Ok,” you murmur, now wishing with all your heart that you were back in the 21st Century where no group of geniuses ever challenged you to rigorous questionnaires on pain of death. The fear and distress you now feel causes you to momentarily forget that there is no internet in 1925. You hence take your phone out of your pocket, tap in your passcode and press Safari. As soon as Safari begins to load, however, your mind returns. And you are just about to put the phone back in your pocket when, suddenly, Google appears! ‘Thank god,’ you think, ‘This is actually a miracle.’ Briefly, you pause for thought, as you know that, as a metaphysical naturalist, believing that you had experienced a true miracle would completely undermine your view on just about everything. Fortunately, after a few seconds, a hypothesis that is more compatible with your convictions presents itself: ‘Actually, I probably ruptured the space-time continuum, or tore a hole in the fabric of space or something, and that means I’m standing in a tiny patch of 21st Century space. Thank god I did create a paradox. Now I have the chance to stick it to these titans of the 20th Century.’
Although some of these titans are looking at your head while you look down at your phone and think these thoughts, they have, at this point, no reason to think you’re from the 21st Century or are holding any kind of knowledge-giving device. It just does not cross their minds, despite how imaginative and clever these minds are.
The first question of the rigorous questionnaire is about newts. It turns out the announcer is a biologist with a particular expertise in amphibians, and he is the arbiter for the first round.
“I hope it’s permissible that this question is not really a question, strictly speaking:
List the genera of the family Salimandrae in alphabetical order by Latin name; give also their common names after each Latin one.”
As soon as you hear the word “Salimandrae” you bash newts into Google and immediately click Wikipedia – but one of the weirdest looking men in the crowd[1], has already stepped out from the crowd and begun rattling off the list in a high, whiny voice: “Calotriton or Spanish brook newts, Cynops or firebelly newts, Echinotriton or spiny newts, Ichthyosaura or alpine newts…”
You are quick enough onto Wikipedia to verify his list, but you soon determine that he is too much of a freak to slip up. Already feeling defeated, you click out of Wikipedia before he’s even finished. And thirty seconds later, this human beanpole is getting slapped on the back by Curie and Wittgenstein (making him wince and look harrowed), and the biologist announcer is declaring that “Team Genius is ahead 1-0!”
You, meanwhile, have never felt more worthless and stupid in your life, and want to die. But let’s say that the next question is asked by James Joyce, and being both an egomaniac and a man with a predilection for throwing spanners in works, he says, “Since it’s the 16th of June, I was wondering whether anyone here could be prevailed upon to recite the beginning of Part II episode 4, or “Calypso”, of my controversial, bizarre and epic novel Ulysses. As long as someone is able to reach the phrase “the cat cried” in their recitation, I shall be satisfied.”[2]
You quickly type in the famous first few words of that chapter into Google, and to your delight the room remains silent. Although some people in the crowd are able to recall verbatim much of what they read normally, most of them have not read Ulysses and have no desire to do so. Most of these people don’t care for fiction of any kind, let alone the most bombastic kind imaginable. And so, in a still silent room, you are on the website called “Genius” (funnily enough), the one which is most used for song lyrics and always has that black background, and you are reading aloud the chapter:
“Leopold Bloom ate with relish the inner organs of beasts and fowls. He liked the thick giblet soup, the nutty gizzards, a stuffed roast heart, liverslices fried with crustcrumbs, fried hencods’ roes […].”
Although it is evident from Joyce’s anguished facial expressions that he does not find your accent euphonious or your voice mellifluous, when you reach the stipulated end of the passage, he does reluctantly declare you the winner of the round.
So it’s one-all now. And let’s say the next question, which is just a basic historical one on the number of ships in the Spanish Armada or something, is answered first by the geniuses. But let’s say the next one after that, a linguist-asked question on some word in some obscure language of an Inuit tribe, is easy enough for you to look up and you actually get it right. And let’s say the next one is a far more obscure historical question than a Spanish Armada one, and you are again able to look it up and get it right. And let’s say Wittgenstein asks about certain aspects of his linguistic theories and you get that one right too. And let’s say Marie Curie asks if anyone can give a brief biography of her, and that’s easy for you again. And eventually, by the end of the one hundred questions, you’ve won seventy to thirty! Against not just one phenomenal genius but one hundred, all working together, you’ve triumphed!
After the announcer has declared you the winner and you begin humbly acknowledging your great victory with a series of polite, gracious nods and some invisible shrugs of self-effacement, many of the geniuses start trying to rationally figure out the nature of your genius. A lot of different hypotheses arise. Most of the geniuses are absolutely shell-shocked. ‘Perhaps’, one of these bewildered individuals thinks, ‘This man is just the smartest person to have ever lived. Somehow he has managed to live in obscurity until now but it seems inevitable that this man will soon achieve a great triumph with the truly incredible intellect he has demonstrated today.’ Some are so overwhelmed by your display that they are doubting their senses and undergoing serious mental breakdowns.
However, most do conclude that there is something suspicious about the way you always looked down before answering any question and always paused for at least twenty seconds before embarking on any response. Some of this majority speculate that you must have breached the one rule of the questionnaire: ‘He must have been holding some kind of massive, vastly detailed encyclopaedia in his hands,’ these people think, even though the rapidity with which you answered many of the questions and the sheer diversity of the responses seem to contradict this. Einstein has concluded that the most likely explanation is that you were assisted by some kind of brilliant futuristic technology. Einstein has, of course, got it right.
But regardless of any of their hypotheses, one fact still stands: you have proven yourself more knowledgeable than the one-hundred geniuses. You have won.

And now suppose that the way you interacted with the internet database was so instinctual and so immediate that you didn’t need to look down at all or even pause before you answered any of the questions. You would have got 100 out of 100 correct and blown the geniuses out of the water.
This is what many futurists think could be the reality in a few decades from now.
                                    




[1] A bespectacled, gangly, scoliotic newt-fancier and English gent called Augustus Fink-Nottle who is unknown in the 21st Century but did have an eidetic memory so was naturally part of the one hundred sharpest minds of 1925.
[2] Ok, so I did try to pull off Joyce’s idiolect after all – but not really. Don’t hate.

Monday, 12 January 2015

A short story called "How on earth did this happen?"

How on earth did this happen?

Circa 500,000 years ago, in the Northern Cape region of South Africa, on an overcast day, with clouds that looked dark and cerebral and seemed to grumble angrily, a homo heidelbergensis male called Bob[1] picked up the big chunk of Obsidian lying on the ground in front of him and bashed it with the smaller rock resting in his other hand. A small, roughly triangular chunk of obsidian with a sharp point fell off the big chunk. Bob stared at it in appreciation. Suddenly, he had an epiphany. He picked up the small chunk with his right hand, manipulated it in his hand – so that its sharp end was pointing downwards – raised it upwards, and jammed it into his left wrist. A sharp sear of pain; Bob grunted. He looked down at his left wrist: a drop of blood had appeared on its surface. So he had split his skin with the rock! But could it do the same to an animal?
Leaving that question aside for the moment, Bob decided to communicate the basic discovery that he had made a rock sharp enough to penetrate skin to the only person in the vicinity: the female he’d had sex with last night, Marissa, who was crouched on the rocky platform nearby, drawing crude faces in the sand. “I just made a piece of obsidian so sharp that it was able to pierce the skin on my wrist,” Bob cried out.
“Like I give a shit about that, Bob.”
“But, think about it, Marissa.” At that point, Bob hadn’t figured out what she was actually supposed to think about. Fortunately, just as the pause was about to linger long enough to expose him as a fraud, he had another epiphany: “What if, somehow, we could attach this to a stick and use it to hurt animals?”[2]
Within a month the first prototype had been developed. And within two, the first kill had been made with this new tool which we now know, in English,[3] as a “spear”.
Then many thousands of years passed and Bob’s very distant descendant, who was of the species homo sapiens, was walking up a hill somewhere in Jordan. When he reached the top, he looked down, in wonder, to see an area in which large swathes of wheat were rippling and swaying in the wind. Consequently, he ran back to his community’s temporary encampment about ten kilometres away and ran around telling everyone about it. Within a relatively short period of time, the entire community had relocated there and, within a relatively short period of time after that, they had built some shacks. And the longer they stayed in this same place, the more solid these shacks became.
While in the fields a year after the discovery of the swathes of wheats, Bob’s distant descendant’s second cousin suddenly realised that, if they gathered enough wheat seeds, they could plant their own crops. Within a month, they were sowing seeds for the first time. Within 12, they were eating the first product of agriculture. As the years passed, the community turned to a village then a town then to the world’s first city, and other settlements began to arise near it. Over many thousands of years, the concept of agriculture spread to most places around the globe, and eventually there began to exist quite a few sizeable cities with complex societies and complex water and sewerage systems.
Many thousands of years after the birth of agriculture, the distant descendant of Bob’s distant descendant (and also the distant descendant of Bob’s distant descendant’s second cousin) was trying to buy a cow from another one of Bob’s distant descendant’s distant descendants, but did not have the requisite grain. However, as he really needed a cow for his family, he negotiated hard with the vendor and was eventually able to convince him to relinquish the cow with the corollary that the vendor would carve a notch into his stall to connote that grain was still owed by the customer. Over the next few days, the vendor told all his friends about this idea, and gradually this idea of ‘I owe yous’ caught on, and within a few years the act of carving into stalls was carried out so frequently that the vendors began to look for other ways of keeping track of goods owed by customers. Eventually, they discovered the efficiency of putting a liquid we now know as “ink” on a sharp stick and using this sharp stick to imprint the important details on a material we would now call “crude paper”. Gradually, over many decades, this technology increased in sophistication and began to be used for ever more diverse functions. What we now call a “complex written language” gradually arose from such use. This was a truly great leap forward for human civilisation and really accelerated our progress. Once we could write things down, every human being trying to figure out a problem would be able to stand on the shoulders of multitudinous others, thus effectively serving to amplify our individual intelligence a millionfold.
The rise of empire, the rise of mass religion. Then the rise of mathematics: the Babylonians and the Egyptians both developed geometry, multiplication, division, the Pythagorean Theorem (the theorem was recognised before Pythagoras himself), algebra, linear and quadratic equations, and the Greeks benefitted from this to make huge advances. As I am myself no expert on the history of mathematics, the following comes from the Wikipedia page called the History of Mathematics: “Greek mathematics was much more sophisticated than the mathematics that had been developed by earlier cultures. All surviving records of pre-Greek mathematics show the use of inductive reasoning, that is, repeated observations used to establish rules of thumb. Greek mathematicians, by contrast, used deductive reasoning. The Greeks used logic to derive conclusions from definitions and axioms, and used mathematical rigour to prove them.
Greek mathematics is thought to have begun with Thales of Miletus (c. 624–c.546 BC) and Pythagoras of Samos (c. 582–c. 507 BC). Although the extent of the influence is disputed, they were probably inspired by Egyptian and Babylonian mathematics. According to legend, Pythagoras travelled to Egypt to learn mathematics, geometry, and astronomy from Egyptian priests.
Thales used geometry to solve problems such as calculating the height of pyramids and the distance of ships from the shore. He is credited with the first use of deductive reasoning applied to geometry, by deriving four corollaries to Thales' Theorem. As a result, he has been hailed as the first true mathematician and the first known individual to whom a mathematical discovery has been attributed. Pythagoras established the Pythagorean School, whose doctrine it was that mathematics ruled the universe and whose motto was "All is number". It was the Pythagoreans who coined the term "mathematics", and with whom the study of mathematics for its own sake begins. The Pythagoreans are credited with the first proof of the Pythagorean theorem, though the statement of the theorem has a long history, and with the proof of the existence of irrational numbers.
Plato (428/427 BC – 348/347 BC) is important in the history of mathematics for inspiring and guiding others. His Platonic Academy, in Athens, became the mathematical centre of the world in the 4th century BC, and it was from this school that the leading mathematicians of the day, such as Eudoxus of Cnidus, came. Plato also discussed the foundations of mathematics, clarified some of the definitions (e.g. that of a line as "breadthless length"), and reorganized the assumptions. The analytic method is ascribed to Plato, while a formula for obtaining Pythagorean triples bears his name.
Eudoxus (408–c.355 BC) developed the method of exhaustion, a precursor of modern integration and a theory of ratios that avoided the problem of incommensurable magnitudes. The former allowed the calculations of areas and volumes of curvilinear figures, while the latter enabled subsequent geometers to make significant advances in geometry. Though he made no specific technical mathematical discoveries, Aristotle (384—c.322 BC) contributed significantly to the development of mathematics by laying the foundations of logic.
In the 3rd century BC, the premier centre of mathematical education and research was the Musaeum of Alexandria. It was there that Euclid (c. 300 BC) taught, and wrote the Elements, widely considered the most successful and influential textbook of all time. The Elements introduced mathematical rigor through the axiomatic method and is the earliest example of the format still used in mathematics today, that of definition, axiom, theorem, and proof. Although most of the contents of the Elements were already known, Euclid arranged them into a single, coherent logical framework. The Elements was known to all educated people in the West until the middle of the 20th century and its contents are still taught in geometry classes today. In addition to the familiar theorems of Euclidean geometry, the Elements was meant as an introductory textbook to all mathematical subjects of the time, such as number theory, algebra and solid geometry, including proofs that the square root of two is irrational and that there are infinitely many prime numbers. Euclid also wrote extensively on other subjects, such as conic sections, optics, spherical geometry, and mechanics, but only half of his writings survive.
Archimedes (c.287–212 BC) of Syracuse, widely considered the greatest mathematician of antiquity, used the method of exhaustion to calculate the area under the arc of a parabola with the summation of an infinite series, in a manner not too dissimilar from modern calculus. He also showed one could use the method of exhaustion to calculate the value of π with as much precision as desired, and obtained the most accurate value of π then known, 31071 < π < 31070. He also studied the spiral bearing his name, obtained formulas for the volumes of surfaces of revolution (paraboloid, ellipsoid, hyperboloid), and an ingenious system for expressing very large numbers. While he is also known for his contributions to physics and several advanced mechanical devices, Archimedes himself placed far greater value on the products of his thought and general mathematical principles. He regarded as his greatest achievement his finding of the surface area and volume of a sphere, which he obtained by proving these are 2/3 the surface area and volume of a cylinder circumscribing the sphere.
Apollonius of Perga (c. 262-190 BC) made significant advances to the study of conic sections, showing that one can obtain all three varieties of conic section by varying the angle of the plane that cuts a double-napped cone. He also coined the terminology in use today for conic sections, namely parabola ("place beside" or "comparison"), "ellipse" ("deficiency"), and "hyperbola" ("a throw beyond"). His work Conics is one of the best known and preserved mathematical works from antiquity, and in it he derives many theorems concerning conic sections that would prove invaluable to later mathematicians and astronomers studying planetary motion, such as Isaac Newton. While neither Apollonius nor any other Greek mathematicians made the leap to coordinate geometry, Apollonius' treatment of curves is in some ways similar to the modern treatment, and some of his work seems to anticipate the development of analytical geometry by Descartes some 1800 years later.
Around the same time, Eratosthenes of Cyrene (c. 276-194 BC) devised the Sieve of Eratosthenes for finding prime numbers. The 3rd century BC is generally regarded as the "Golden Age" of Greek mathematics, with advances in pure mathematics henceforth in relative decline. Nevertheless, in the centuries that followed significant advances were made in applied mathematics, most notably trigonometry, largely to address the needs of astronomers. Hipparchus of Nicaea (c. 190-120 BC) is considered the founder of trigonometry for compiling the first known trigonometric table, and to him is also due the systematic use of the 360 degree circle. Heron of Alexandria (c. 10–70 AD) is credited with Heron's formula for finding the area of a scalene triangle and with being the first to recognize the possibility of negative numbers possessing square roots. Menelaus of Alexandria (c. 100 AD) pioneered spherical trigonometry through Menelaus' theorem. The most complete and influential trigonometric work of antiquity is the Almagest of Ptolemy (c. AD 90-168), a landmark astronomical treatise whose trigonometric tables would be used by astronomers for the next thousand years. Ptolemy is also credited with Ptolemy's theorem for deriving trigonometric quantities, and the most accurate value of π outside of China until the medieval period, 3.1416.
Following a period of stagnation after Ptolemy, the period between 250 and 350 AD is sometimes referred to as the "Silver Age" of Greek mathematics. During this period, Diophantus made significant advances in algebra, particularly indeterminate analysis, which is also known as "Diophantine analysis". The study of Diophantine equations and Diophantine approximations is a significant area of research to this day. His main work was the Arithmetica, a collection of 150 algebraic problems dealing with exact solutions to determinate and indeterminate equations. The Arithmetica had a significant influence on later mathematicians, such as Pierre de Fermat, who arrived at his famous Last Theorem after trying to generalize a problem he had read in the Arithmetica (that of dividing a square into two squares). Diophantus also made significant advances in notation, the Arithmetica being the first instance of algebraic symbolism and syncopation.”

“Medieval European interest in mathematics was driven by concerns quite different from those of modern mathematicians. One driving element was the belief that mathematics provided the key to understanding the created order of nature, frequently justified by Plato's Timaeus and the biblical passage (in the Book of Wisdom) that God had ordered all things in measure, and number, and weight.
Boethius provided a place for mathematics in the curriculum in the 6th century when he coined the term quadrivium to describe the study of arithmetic, geometry, astronomy, and music. He wrote De institutione arithmetica, a free translation from the Greek of Nicomachus's Introduction to ArithmeticDe institutione musica, also derived from Greek sources; and a series of excerpts from Euclid's Elements. His works were theoretical, rather than practical, and were the basis of mathematical study until the recovery of Greek and Arabic mathematical works.
In the 12th century, European scholars traveled to Spain and Sicily seeking scientific Arabic texts, including al-Khwārizmī's The Compendious Book on Calculation by Completion and Balancing, translated into Latin by Robert of Chester, and the complete text of Euclid's Elements, translated in various versions by Adelard of Bath, Herman of Carinthia, and Gerard of Cremona.
These new sources sparked a renewal of mathematics. Fibonacci, writing in the Liber Abaci, in 1202 and updated in 1254, produced the first significant mathematics in Europe since the time of Eratosthenes, a gap of more than a thousand years. The work introduced Hindu-Arabic numerals to Europe, and discussed many other mathematical problems.
The 14th century saw the development of new mathematical concepts to investigate a wide range of problems. One important contribution was development of mathematics of local motion.
Thomas Bradwardine proposed that speed (V) increases in arithmetic proportion as the ratio of force (F) to resistance (R) increases in geometric proportion. Bradwardine expressed this by a series of specific examples, but although the logarithm had not yet been conceived, we can express his conclusion anachronistically by writing: V = log (F/R). Bradwardine's analysis is an example of transferring a mathematical technique used by al-Kindi and Arnald of Villanova to quantify the nature of compound medicines to a different physical problem.[119]
One of the 14th-century Oxford Calculators, William Heytesbury, lacking differential calculus and the concept of limits, proposed to measure instantaneous speed "by the path that would be described by [a body] if... it were moved uniformly at the same degree of speed with which it is moved in that given instant".
Heytesbury and others mathematically determined the distance covered by a body undergoing uniformly accelerated motion (today solved by integration), stating that "a moving body uniformly acquiring or losing that increment [of speed] will traverse in some given time a [distance] completely equal to that which it would traverse if it were moving continuously through the same time with the mean degree [of speed]".
Nicole Oresme at the University of Paris and the Italian Giovanni di Casali independently provided graphical demonstrations of this relationship, asserting that the area under the line depicting the constant acceleration, represented the total distance traveled. In a later mathematical commentary on Euclid's Elements, Oresme made a more detailed general analysis in which he demonstrated that a body will acquire in each successive increment of time an increment of any quality that increases as the odd numbers. Since Euclid had demonstrated the sum of the odd numbers are the square numbers, the total quality acquired by the body increases as the square of the time.”

“During the Renaissance, the development of mathematics and of accounting were intertwined. While there is no direct relationship between algebra and accounting, the teaching of the subjects and the books published often intended for the children of merchants who were sent to reckoning schools (in Flanders and Germany) or abacus schools (known as abbaco in Italy), where they learned the skills useful for trade and commerce. There is probably no need for algebra in performing bookkeeping operations, but for complex bartering operations or the calculation of compound interest, a basic knowledge of arithmetic was mandatory and knowledge of algebra was very useful.
Luca Pacioli's "Summa de Arithmetica, Geometria, Proportioni et Proportionalità" (Italian: "Review of Arithmetic, Geometry, Ratio and Proportion") was first printed and published in Venice in 1494. It included a 27-page treatise on bookkeeping, "Particularis de Computis et Scripturis" (Italian: "Details of Calculation and Recording"). It was written primarily for, and sold mainly to, merchants who used the book as a reference text, as a source of pleasure from the mathematical puzzles it contained, and to aid the education of their sons. In Summa Arithmetica, Pacioli introduced symbols for plus and minus for the first time in a printed book, symbols that became standard notation in Italian Renaissance mathematics. Summa Arithmetica was also the first known book printed in Italy to contain algebra. It is important to note that Pacioli himself had borrowed much of the work of Piero Della Francesca whom he plagiarized.
In Italy, during the first half of the 16th century, Scipione del Ferro and Niccolò Fontana Tartaglia discovered solutions for cubic equations. Gerolamo Cardano published them in his 1545 book Ars Magna, together with a solution for the quartic equations, discovered by his student Lodovico Ferrari. In 1572 Rafael Bombelli published his L'Algebra in which he showed how to deal with the imaginary quantities that could appear in Cardano's formula for solving cubic equations.
Simon Stevin's book De Thiende ('the art of tenths'), first published in Dutch in 1585, contained the first systematic treatment of decimal notation, which influenced all later work on the real number system.
Driven by the demands of navigation and the growing need for accurate maps of large areas, trigonometry grew to be a major branch of mathematics. Bartholomaeus Pitiscuswas the first to use the word, publishing his Trigonometria in 1595. Regiomontanus's table of sines and cosines was published in 1533.
During the Renaissance the desire of artists to represent the natural world realistically, together with the rediscovered philosophy of the Greeks, led artists to study mathematics. They were also the engineers and architects of that time, and so had need of mathematics in any case. The art of painting in perspective, and the developments in geometry that involved, were studied intensely.”

“The 17th century saw an unprecedented explosion of mathematical and scientific ideas across Europe. Galileo observed the moons of Jupiter in orbit about that planet, using a telescope based on a toy imported from Holland. Tycho Brahe had gathered an enormous quantity of mathematical data describing the positions of the planets in the sky. By his position as Brahe's assistant, Johannes Kepler was first exposed to and seriously interacted with the topic of planetary motion. Kepler's calculations were made simpler by the contemporaneous invention of logarithms by John Napier and Jost Bürgi. Kepler succeeded in formulating mathematical laws of planetary motion. The analytic geometry developed by René Descartes (1596–1650) allowed those orbits to be plotted on a graph, in Cartesian coordinates. Simon Stevin (1585) created the basis for modern decimal notation capable of describing all numbers, whether rational or irrational.
Building on earlier work by many predecessors, Isaac Newton discovered the laws of physics explaining Kepler's Laws, and brought together the concepts now known as calculus. Independently, Gottfried Wilhelm Leibniz, who is arguably one of the most important mathematicians of the 17th century, developed calculus and much of the calculus notation still in use today. Science and mathematics had become an international endeavor, which would soon spread over the entire world.
In addition to the application of mathematics to the studies of the heavens, applied mathematics began to expand into new areas, with the correspondence of Pierre de Fermat and Blaise Pascal. Pascal and Fermat set the groundwork for the investigations of probability theory and the corresponding rules of combinatorics in their discussions over a game of gambling. Pascal, with his wager, attempted to use the newly developing probability theory to argue for a life devoted to religion, on the grounds that even if the probability of success was small, the rewards were infinite. In some sense, this foreshadowed the development of utility theory in the 18th–19th century.”

“The most influential mathematician of the 18th century was arguably Leonhard Euler. His contributions range from founding the study of graph theory with the Seven Bridges of Königsberg problem to standardizing many modern mathematical terms and notations. For example, he named the square root of minus 1 with the symbol i, and he popularized the use of the Greek letter   to stand for the ratio of a circle's circumference to its diameter. He made numerous contributions to the study of topology, graph theory, calculus, combinatorics, and complex analysis, as evidenced by the multitude of theorems and notations named for him.
Other important European mathematicians of the 18th century included Joseph Louis Lagrange, who did pioneering work in number theory, algebra, differential calculus, and the calculus of variations, and Laplace who, in the age of Napoleon, did important work on the foundations of celestial mechanics and on statistics.”

“Throughout the 19th century mathematics became increasingly abstract. In the 19th century lived Carl Friedrich Gauss (1777–1855). Leaving aside his many contributions to science, in pure mathematics he did revolutionary work on functions of complex variables, in geometry, and on the convergence of series. He gave the first satisfactory proofs of the fundamental theorem of algebra and of the quadratic reciprocity law.
This century saw the development of the two forms of non-Euclidean geometry, where the parallel postulate of Euclidean geometry no longer holds. The Russian mathematician Nikolai Ivanovich Lobachevsky and his rival, the Hungarian mathematician János Bolyai, independently defined and studied hyperbolic geometry, where uniqueness of parallels no longer holds. In this geometry the sum of angles in a triangle add up to less than 180°. Elliptic geometry was developed later in the 19th century by the German mathematician Bernhard Riemann; here no parallel can be found and the angles in a triangle add up to more than 180°. Riemann also developed Riemannian geometry, which unifies and vastly generalizes the three types of geometry, and he defined the concept of a manifold, which generalizes the ideas of curves and surfaces.
The 19th century saw the beginning of a great deal of abstract algebra. Hermann Grassmann in Germany gave a first version of vector spaces, William Rowan Hamilton in Ireland developed noncommutative algebra. The British mathematician George Boole devised an algebra that soon evolved into what is now called Boolean algebra, in which the only numbers were 0 and 1. Boolean algebra is the starting point of mathematical logic and has important applications in computer science.
Augustin-Louis Cauchy, Bernhard Riemann, and Karl Weierstrass reformulated the calculus in a more rigorous fashion.
Also, for the first time, the limits of mathematics were explored. Niels Henrik Abel, a Norwegian, and Évariste Galois, a Frenchman, proved that there is no general algebraic method for solving polynomial equations of degree greater than four (Abel–Ruffini theorem). Other 19th-century mathematicians utilized this in their proofs that straightedge and compass alone are not sufficient to trisect an arbitrary angle, to construct the side of a cube twice the volume of a given cube, nor to construct a square equal in area to a given circle. Mathematicians had vainly attempted to solve all of these problems since the time of the ancient Greeks. On the other hand, the limitation of three dimensions in geometry was surpassed in the 19th century through considerations of parameter space and hypercomplex numbers.
Abel and Galois's investigations into the solutions of various polynomial equations laid the groundwork for further developments of group theory, and the associated fields of abstract algebra. In the 20th century physicists and other scientists have seen group theory as the ideal way to study symmetry.
In the later 19th century, Georg Cantor established the first foundations of set theory, which enabled the rigorous treatment of the notion of infinity and has become the common language of nearly all mathematics. Cantor's set theory, and the rise of mathematical logic in the hands of Peano, L. E. J. Brouwer, David Hilbert, Bertrand Russell, and A.N. Whitehead, initiated a long running debate on the foundations of mathematics.
The 19th century saw the founding of a number of national mathematical societies: the London Mathematical Society in 1865, the Société Mathématique de France in 1872, theCircolo Matematico di Palermo in 1884, the Edinburgh Mathematical Society in 1883, and the American Mathematical Society in 1888. The first international, special-interest society, the Quaternion Society, was formed in 1899, in the context of a vector controversy.
In 1897, Hensel introduced p-adic numbers.”

“The 20th century saw mathematics become a major profession. Every year, thousands of new Ph.D.s in mathematics were awarded, and jobs were available in both teaching and industry. An effort to catalogue the areas and applications of mathematics was undertaken inKlein's encyclopedia.
In a 1900 speech to the International Congress of Mathematicians, David Hilbert set out a list of 23 unsolved problems in mathematics. These problems, spanning many areas of mathematics, formed a central focus for much of 20th-century mathematics. Today, 10 have been solved, 7 are partially solved, and 2 are still open. The remaining 4 are too loosely formulated to be stated as solved or not.
Notable historical conjectures were finally proven. In 1976, Wolfgang Haken and Kenneth Appel used a computer to prove the four color theorem. Andrew Wiles, building on the work of others, proved Fermat's Last Theorem in 1995. Paul Cohen and Kurt Gödel proved that the continuum hypothesis is independent of (could neither be proved nor disproved from) the standard axioms of set theory. In 1998 Thomas Callister Hales proved the Kepler conjecture.
Mathematical collaborations of unprecedented size and scope took place. An example is the classification of finite simple groups (also called the "enormous theorem"), whose proof between 1955 and 1983 required 500-odd journal articles by about 100 authors, and filling tens of thousands of pages. A group of French mathematicians, including Jean Dieudonné and André Weil, publishing under the pseudonym "Nicolas Bourbaki", attempted to exposit all of known mathematics as a coherent rigorous whole. The resulting several dozen volumes has had a controversial influence on mathematical education.
Differential geometry came into its own when Einstein used it in general relativity. Entire new areas of mathematics such as mathematical logic, topology, and John von Neumann's game theory changed the kinds of questions that could be answered by mathematical methods. All kinds of structures were abstracted using axioms and given names like metric spaces, topological spaces etc. As mathematicians do, the concept of an abstract structure was itself abstracted and led to category theory. Grothendieck and Serre recast algebraic geometry using sheaf theory. Large advances were made in the qualitative study of dynamical systems that Poincaré had begun in the 1890s. Measure theory was developed in the late 19th and early 20th centuries. Applications of measures include the Lebesgue integral, Kolmogorov's axiomatisation of probability theory, and ergodic theory. Knot theory greatly expanded. Quantum mechanics led to the development of functional analysis. Other new areas include Laurent Schwartz's distribution theory, fixed point theory, singularity theory and René Thom's catastrophe theory, model theory, and Mandelbrot's fractals. Lie theory with its Lie groups and Lie algebras became one of the major areas of study.
Non-standard analysis, introduced by Abraham Robinson, rehabilitated the infinitesimal approach to calculus, which had fallen into disrepute in favour of the theory of limits, by extending the field of real numbers to the Hyperreal numbers which include infinitesimal and infinite quantities. An even larger number system, the surreal numbers were discovered by John Horton Conway in connection with combinatorial games.
The development and continual improvement of computers, at first mechanical analog machines and then digital electronic machines, allowed industry to deal with larger and larger amounts of data to facilitate mass production and distribution and communication, and new areas of mathematics were developed to deal with this: Alan Turing's computability theory; complexity theory; Derrick Henry Lehmer's use of ENIAC to further number theory and the Lucas-Lehmer test; Claude Shannon's information theory; signal processing; data analysis; optimization and other areas of operations research. In the preceding centuries much mathematical focus was on calculus and continuous functions, but the rise of computing and communication networks led to an increasing importance of discrete concepts and the expansion of combinatorics including graph theory. The speed and data processing abilities of computers also enabled the handling of mathematical problems that were too time-consuming to deal with by pencil and paper calculations, leading to areas such as numerical analysis and symbolic computation. Some of the most important methods and algorithms of the 20th century are: the simplex algorithm, the Fast Fourier Transform, error-correcting codes, the Kalman filter from control theory and the RSA algorithm of public-key cryptography.
At the same time, deep insights were made about the limitations to mathematics. In 1929 and 1930, it was proved the truth or falsity of all statements formulated about the natural numbers plus one of addition and multiplication, was decidable, i.e. could be determined by some algorithm. In 1931, Kurt Gödel found that this was not the case for the natural numbers plus both addition and multiplication; this system, known as Peano arithmetic, was in fact incompletable. (Peano arithmetic is adequate for a good deal of number theory, including the notion of prime number.) A consequence of Gödel's two incompleteness theorems is that in any mathematical system that includes Peano arithmetic (including all of analysis and geometry), truth necessarily outruns proof, i.e. there are true statements that cannot be proved within the system. Hence mathematics cannot be reduced to mathematical logic, and David Hilbert's dream of making all of mathematics complete and consistent needed to be reformulated.
One of the more colorful figures in 20th-century mathematics was Srinivasa Aiyangar Ramanujan (1887–1920), an Indian autodidact who conjectured or proved over 3000 theorems, including properties of highly composite numbers, the partition function and its asymptotics, and mock theta functions. He also made major investigations in the areas of gamma functions, modular forms, divergent series, hypergeometric series and prime number theory.
Paul Erdős published more papers than any other mathematician in history, working with hundreds of collaborators. Mathematicians have a game equivalent to the Kevin Bacon Game, which leads to the Erdős number of a mathematician. This describes the "collaborative distance" between a person and Paul Erdős, as measured by joint authorship of mathematical papers.
Emmy Noether has been described by many as the most important woman in the history of mathematics. She revolutionized the theories of rings, fields, and algebras.
As in most areas of study, the explosion of knowledge in the scientific age has led to specialization: by the end of the century there were hundreds of specialized areas in mathematics and the Mathematics Subject Classification was dozens of pages long. More and more mathematical journals were published and, by the end of the century, the development of the world wide web led to online publishing.”

So, of course, some of the other significant 19th and 20th Century developments (of all types) for mankind not covered in this article on mathematics were the industrial revolution (this was an absolutely momentous one, obviously), the discovery of penicillin, the creation of the atom bomb, the rise of America as a global superpower, the invention of the television, the creation of spacecraft (and the subsequent trip to the moon), the civil rights and feminist movements, the ‘postmodern’ intellectual movement, the rise of commercialism, “globalisation”, the invention of the video game, the invention of the personal computer,  9/11 and the invention of smartphones.
And so now I’m here, wearing very complex polyester clothes to cover my animal body, lying on the very complex structure that is my bed, in my bedroom, which is itself part of the extremely complex structure that is my house, made out of brick (which is itself a very complex item) and wood cut to precise lengths and plaster and tiles (which are also very complex items) and glass (which is also a very complex item), put together many years ago based on precise plans  by multiple men whose job it is to put together houses, using very complex electrical tools like drills as well as complex, mechanical ones like hammers and nails, and in my bedroom are lots of truly remarkable creations of human civilisation, like books about all sorts of things, both non-fiction and fiction, designed for kids, teens and adults, and CDs (which, it goes without saying ,are also truly remarkable things), and toys, and sports trophies and a backpack and hats and a couple of soccer shinpads and the electrical guitar that I never really used and pencils and pens and folders and coins and a clock and a roll-on deodorant container and a computer mouse and an old newspaper and a plastic bag and a corkboard covered in all these ribbons I won for various things, both academic and athletic, through primary and high school, and a white, chipboard IKEA set of drawers one level of which contains lots of old phones and phone chargers, and I am typing this up on a pretty modern laptop, which is a truly remarkable object, in lots of ways, and which allows me, with the internet added, to access basically the aggregate knowledge of all of humanity (and, in particular, I can access the wonderful database of information that is Wikipedia, as I did for this document) and to listen to most of the music ever recorded and to watch footage of people doing things all over the world and to play computer games which immerse me in what is effectively another virtual universe of significant complexity and to both write and then publish my writings on a range of highly complex topics using a highly complex language system and my 12 years of state-mandated education in literacy and my general education in thought. And none of this makes me in the least bit unusual. In fact, I live in a city of millions of people in a country of millions of people in a world of 7 billion people and billions of these 7 billion have available to them similar things to me, and these billions like me all live in extremely complex communities with clean drinking water accessible at a tap in every home and very good sewerage systems and roads and organisations and shops at which you can buy food, clothes or various items and technologies of all possible kinds which either make one’s life more convenient or entertaining, and schools and universities and businesses and parks and ovals and sports clubs and restaurants and bars and nightclubs and national parks and stadiums and public transport and buildings with truly incredible architecture and art galleries and museums and theatres and concert halls and libraries and centres of government where lots of people wearing suits that we all chose in a remarkable process which occurs on a truly massive scale make decisions concerning us all.
In his wildest dreams Bob couldn’t have imagined that this would be the eventual result of his simple discovery that rocks can be very sharp that one overcast afternoon.





[1] Unlikely to be his real name.
[2] It is very possible that homo heidelbergensis couldn’t have formulated a sentence as complex as this. In fact, they may have had only very basic linguistic capabilities. But in order to write a work of historical fiction, you sometimes have to make educated inventions.   
[3] Which is the language I have been using for this whole story, obviously, despite its clear anachronisticity.