Search This Blog

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. 

Friday, 9 January 2015

A piece of sports journalism called "In Defence of Shane Watson"

In Defence of Shane Watson

Many in the Australian cricket community have been rather harsh towards Shane Watson recently. There is a widely held perception that he has well and truly had enough of a chance to prove himself as a test-quality player, and well and truly failed. These critics argue that, although we can all obviously see the facility with batting that Shane has always had – his remarkable ability to plant a foot down the wicket and pummel shots all over the ground as if playing with children – as well as the deftness and skill of his bowling, the actual results he is producing are simply inadequate. Look at the numbers, they protest! A batting average (post-Sydney test) in the 35s and a bowling average of around 33, which may seem respectable until you consider that he has taken only 74 wickets at a strike rate of 71.9. Clearly, they howl, these numbers do not befit an Australian test player.
But I beg to differ.
Shane Watson has always been an unusual player. Those who were paying attention to cricket before 2005 (which is basically the year (aged 8) that I started paying attention to it), tell me that when Watson started his career, as a burly ball-belter and genuinely quick paceman, he truly was regarded as “a precocious talent” and “an exciting prospect”, and was touted by some, including Steve Waugh, as having the potential to become Australia’s first genuine all-rounder since Keith Miller. In the early years of the 2000s, playing for Tasmania rather than his home-state Queensland, it is not melodramatic to say that he “burst” onto the first-class scene, achieving success with both bat and ball phenomenonally early. Indeed, he scored a century in only his fifth game for Tasmania (the last game of the 2000-01 season), and, in his first five matches bowling, took 11 wickets at an average of 26.27. And this was just first foray into first-class cricket! His bowling statistics only improved the next year, seeing him top the Pura Cup wicket-taking charts for Tasmania, and he also continued to bat solidly in the middle order. In recognition of this success (and his potential), on the 24th of March, 2002, aged only 20 years old, Watson was given his ODI debut against South Africa. Although he did not achieve any remarkable feats in his first few matches as an international cricketer, he did well enough to continue as an ODI player for Australia, playing a few games and achieving modest success throughout 2002.
But suddenly, at the beginning of 2003, Watson suffered three stress fractures in his back. His body had thus shown its first sign of what would later be revealed as fundamental weakness, and Watson had missed the 2003 World Cup.
Most cricket fans would know the basic story after that – after all, it followed a pretty basic pattern. Watson would recover, do well in domestic cricket, return to the Australian team, and just when he was beginning to look really good, he would sustain another injury.  The first repetition of this pattern began in the year of 2004. In this year, Watson performed very well in domestic cricket and was consequently given his test debut against Pakistan in the Sydney test of January 2005. Although it was not a standout debut, Watson followed it up by playing well against the ICC World XI, and was thus selected for the first test against the West Indies to be played in the Caribbean soon after. Yet, at this juncture – this nexus between obscurity and his dreams – the cruel mistress of fate reared her ugly head again: while diving to stop a Ramnaresh Sarwan on-drive, Watson dislocated his left shoulder. And, to make matters worse, just like in 2003, the man who replaced him was Andrew Symonds, a fellow Queensland-native and rising star. Although the first time Symonds had replaced Watson may not have induced Watson to fear for his place in the team, this time it must have done. The supersession in fact marked the beginning of a long-running rivalry between the two burly Queensland all-rounders for the number six spot in the Australian test team, as both of them continually impressed, but also continually failed to secure their place over the other.
While I may have given this impression hitherto, I must point out it wasn’t all bad for Watson. A big turning point came for him when Jamie Cox suggested that he should be used more as a batting all-rounder than a bowling one. Indeed, it was probably this comment and its consequences which secured him the spot opening the batting for Australia in the 2006 ICC Champions Trophy, alongside Adam Gilchrist. And in this tournament, his body finally stayed intact long enough for him to take advantage of the opportunity he had been given, seeing him impress with both bat and ball, and play a pivotal role in garnering Australia their first Champions Trophy victory.
So, after the tournament, Watson had finally made it. In fact, following it, he was not only named in the squad for the 2006-2007 Ashes, but was personally endorsed by Ricky Ponting as the right man for the number six spot. However, once more, Watson’s seemingly strong and powerful body malfunctioned, and he injured his hamstring. Thus, yet again, bodily breakdown had befallen him, thwarting his career. And this pattern did not stop. Indeed, 2006 and 2007 were years in which the natural cycle of injury-recovery-return-injury for Watson actually accelerated to an unprecedented pace. Watson was expected to be fit for the Boxing Day Test of 2006-2007 and, because of Damien Martyn's unexpected retirement, it looked likely that he would be included in the side. However, another injury setback in a match for Queensland ruled Watson out for the rest of the Ashes series. And who was the lucky man to replace him? That’s right: his archrival in international cricket, Andrew Symonds. You may recall that Symonds did not let the opportunity slip, cementing his place in the test team with a spectacular and unforgettable century, the important milestone of which he reached with a glorious six. (I certainly remember this: I even recall that, when it happened, I was in the car heading towards Melbourne on the Hume Highway for the next day of the test, and that you could hear the deafening roar of the MCG crowd on Grandstand as Maxwell, I think it was, made a brilliant call of the moment, making some reference to Symonds’ journey and probably using the word “redemption”). And although Watson returned in February to the ODI side, he broke down with injury yet again during the 29th match of 2007 Cricket World Cup and missed two matches of the Super 8s. Of course, after that, Watson returned in fine style, smashing an unbeaten 65 off 32 balls in the same tournament against New Zealand. But yet again, in the early stages of the 2007 ICC World Twenty20, Watson suffered a hamstring strain. Due to this injury, he not only missed most of the tournament but was out of action for basically the entire 2007–08 Australian season.
Watson finally returned to the test team when the “period of transition” was in full swing. At this point, determined to fix the fragility of his body, he dropped his strength training and, in its place, took up an intensive regime of pilates (was this the same time he began shaving/waxing his chest?). Luckily for Watson, this lifestyle change did seem to work, and his rate of injury-sustenance did slow down. In fact, ever since late-2008, except for a brief period of Phillip Hughes brilliance, he has basically been a permanent member of the test team of Australia. In 2009, he had his big break as a test batsman. After having scored a frustrating string of test 90s in the previous matches, most fans would probably remember watching a nervy Watson finally bring up his first test century on the fourth day of the Boxing Day Test against Pakistan. And to cap it off, during the Sydney test, at which he made yet another 90 (specifically, 97), the Australian Cricket Media Association presented Watson with Australian Cricketer of the Year Award.
So, finally, he had been recognised (admittedly, in a fairly grim year for Australian cricket). And finally, despite his poor conversion of 90s into 100s, the future looked bright for S. Watson. Many test centuries beckoned – and possibly even greatness. At this point, very few in the cricket community were criticising Watson. On 30 March 2011, when Watson was named test and ODI vice-captain, the future looked even brighter yet. And he was still only 29 years old when, on 11 April 2011, he made 185 not out off 96 balls against Bangladesh, the highest ODI score by an Australian batsman (passing Matthew Hayden’s knock of 181 in 2007), and an innings which included 15 sixes – an ODI record.
So I admit that Watson hasn’t done much of great note in the years since. He briefly silenced his critics in the 2013 England Ashes with what I hear was a sparkling knock of 176. But leaving that aside, you really would have to say that the last four years have all been rather barren for Watson at test level. And this was a period where he had only two injuries that caused him to miss important matches (in 2011, with hamstring and calf problems, and in 2012, with a calf injury). Nevertheless, in my opinion, he has still been useful, and this is despite constantly being shuffled around the batting order. He has still continued to hit lots of half-centuries. He has still continued to take wickets here and there, with his nagging line and length, and his skilful application of reverse swing.  He has still taken 40 catches in test matches – a pretty significant figure. And, in my opinion, any all-rounder with a batting average above 35 and a bowling average below 35 is a very good all-rounder, and will be very useful to almost any team. I believe that Watson is very useful to the Australian team.
Plus, in any case, with whom would we replace him? Before Phillip Hughes’ tragic death, the top order batting stocks in Australia looked scant. After it, they look dire.  We certainly don’t have any great all-rounders.
So lay off Watson. In the Sydney Test, he scored 81 and took three wickets. In recent ODIs, he has failed, but I have faith in him. Even if the brilliant talent never returns, even if the Watson worthy of comparison to the dashing fighter pilot and maverick Keith Miller fades into oblivion, I believe that Watson will eventually make himself a vital member of the Australian team.

Unusual players must be judged unusually.

Wednesday, 17 December 2014

A short story called "Writhing Alone in a Room with a Toothache"

Writhing Alone in a Room with a Toothache


He lay down on the mattress staring at the white ceiling. His new room for the whole next week. It would be a whole week in this place with the light streaming in through the pale curtains in this silent room with a funny smell. He reached out his hands above him and turned over his body and thought about the fact that he was reaching out his hands above him and turning over his body and how contrived all his behaviour was and thought about how he was goddamn doing that stupid thing he did all the fucking time which was fucking stare at ceilings and think and that it was fucking dumb because nobody else did that shit and Jesus Christ what the fuck why did he have to fucking stare at walls and think and thought about what David Foster Wallace would think of him and whether he would think they were kindred spirits because he was lying on a mattress thinking and moving around randomly and also because he had just downed a Codeine pill with a hand-cup of water from the sink which might like super fucking depressed or whatever and thought about how all his thoughts were just so fucking vacuous and thought about what David Foster Wallace would think about him and thought about how maybe that was what all people thought about pretty much most of the time and thought about how he’d thought about that like a million times before and thought about how he always had the same thoughts and what the fuck did anything mean and where did it lead and why the fuck did he think, honestly, he should go actually fucking do something, like write. Which is what he did, subsequently, and felt a bit better, and the throbbing pain in his tooth was subsiding then he sensed, though it could’ve been a placebo.   

A short story called "Digging in the Yard"

Digging in the Yard

He shoved the shovel into the rock-strewn soil until it was firmly embedded into the ground. He stomped on the top of the blade thrice, pushing the shovel as far as down in the earth as it would go. He levered the shovel upwards and lifted it out of the ground. Balancing the pile of dirt on the blade, he swung the shovel slowly towards the wheelbarrow. When he reached it, he flipped the shovel, and the dirt and rocks fell in with a hiss and a clunk.
He shoved the shovel in the soil again. As he tried to press it down, he discovered that the patch of soil was far more recalcitrant than the previous one. He felt a twinge in his back. He stomped on the blade and it did not budge, instead making the ugly scraping noise of metal on rock. A bead of sweat dripped from his brow. He chose a new patch and jammed his shovel into the soil. He tipped the shovelload into the wheelbarrow, and glanced down at his shirt: a wet patch had accumulated on the blue cotton. He swallowed a glob of dry saliva. 
As he stood, shovel in hand, next to the wheelbarrow, staring at the big dusty hole he had dug and then at the whole big dirt expanse that made up the property on one side of their house and realised how strange it was that just a few weeks ago the area had been as it had always been as long as he had lived there – a wide strip of weed-infested grass with little bamboo shoots sprouting up everywhere which threatened always to engulf the house and thus required regular maintenance – and realised how significant and poignant it felt that he had done so many things in the area and formed so many memories set in it, such as the memory of Harrison and him spending that one Sunday when Tom invited him over lopping down some big bamboo trees with a spade and maybe a mattock (they didn’t use the axes in the garage because Tom’s dad, characteristically, instructed them not to on account of his fear that they would injure ourselves), which was Harrison’s idea and Tom didn’t think would be fun because he just wanted to play PS2 or watch a movie or something, but did end up being fun as far as he could remember, because it sort of gave them a sense of masculine power or something, Tom noticed his legs felt heavy and tired. He walked over to the big rock on the edge of the big hole he was digging and sat down on it. His water bottle was standing in the shadow of the tree just to his right. He picked it up, unscrewed it and took a swig. The water was cool and refreshing.
Hard physical labour can be rewarding in a way that one does not ever experience in quotidian, urban life.


A short story called "My Friend the Solipsist"

My Friend the Solipsist

For moments at a time, he was convinced that his was the only consciousness in the universe, or whatever realm it was that they – or rather he – existed in because if his was the only consciousness who knew if there even was such a thing as a universe? Who knew what was real? Wasn’t what he was thinking right now unreal because nothing was real? What was logic? Logic wasn’t necessarily logical if nothing was real. What was real? What was language? How could anything he thought be trusted if nothing was real? How could you refute that nothing was real if nothing was real? You couldn’t, of course. But you also couldn’t refute nothing was real because, logically, he could be the only consciousness and everything could be a construct of a brain in a vat or a brain in a jar or actually any sort of thing could be producing the simulation, literally anything – there might be a whole other world somewhere else, above his consciousness, in which some thing, maybe some sort of monster, or some intangible essence, or just something that no human language or thought could possibly express was creating the vision, in fact anything might be creating this vision he saw, or maybe his own mind created the world unconsciously or maybe everything was just unreal and there was no way any logic or thought could even get close to understanding what was unreal about it because all he knew was the simulated world in which he lived – and what was a world anyway? That meant that really he had no idea about anything. Which again brought him back to how he couldn’t have no idea about anything anyway because how the hell could he trust logic or language or anything and how the hell could he trust not trusting logic of language or anything?
He would spend hours in a room staring face down at a lounge or sitting staring into the garden and just feel sick in the stomach and let his mind run wild with these terrible thoughts. And then he would finally come into contact with people that night when his parents came home from their jobs and there was no way he could ever express to them the terrible pain of sort of semi-believing or at least being unable to dismiss that, like, everything was just unreal, including them. That made him continue to feel sick in the stomach.
He tried to train himself not to ever think these thoughts but it was hard, particularly because he spent so much time alone.


Tuesday, 18 November 2014

A short story called "Quietly Exiting the Stage"

Quietly Exiting the Stage

So Michael was finally going to do it – he was finally going to end his life. And all that. He was sure. This was it. He was absolutely sure. He’d be stupid not to, really. That was the thing: as much as he could appreciate why living had the potential to be really fucking good and beautiful and all the rest of it, and while he did love nature and his mum and ice-cream and the films of the Coen brothers and the book Infinite Jest, and while he had a really good friend called Peter, while these were all the pros, he had also spent most of his life desperately unhappy, and it wasn’t going to get any better, and he was sick of it – he was sick of being tormented by anxiety and dread and paranoia, sick of being in a near permanent state of blackest despair. Plus David Foster Wallace himself committed suicide and he was really smart and clever and had good ideas, so how could it be irrational? But he didn’t need other people to verify his rationality anyway – that was dumb. That was irrational. Which was funny. Anyway the thing was that he didn’t even know why he was still weighing up the pros and cons of life vs death; he had been trying to systematically figure that out for the last year or so, and, as difficult as it was because his mind was pretty fucking recalcitrant – which was often something that made him wild with rage and then despair and sometimes made him want to bash his head against the wall, but only really in an abstract way – he was now pretty much adamant that death was the way more rational option.
 Which was why he was in the study of the family home, sat on the swivel chair, gripping a pen, staring at a blank sheet of lined paper in a plain A4 notebook, and thinking about what to write in his suicide note. He was also thinking about a lot of other things, such as the fact that he had only found this notebook just minutes before, in the study’s old, dark-wood cupboard. Like with most sights he’d seen in the last week – a week whose entirety was spent in the knowledge that he would kill himself today (he had set the date for his own demise precisely one week before it would occur because he thought it would be, like, most rational to be brutally practical and matter-of-fact about his suicide) – he had made a real effort to sort of appreciate the cupboard. As he stared at it closely and inhaled its musky smell, he had even whispered to himself the words, ‘The last time I will see this old, beautiful cupboard’, which imbued the moment with a great Hollywood poignancy and gravitas. Of course, he had also whispered that phrase (except with different words after “this”, based on what he was looking at) for all the other sights he had made an effort to appreciate that week, and the practice had been tinged with irony even when he first did it, about his bed (which he was sitting on at that time) because, you know, it was pathetically cliché and lame, and it was also untrue that it would be “the last time” in the case of the bed, plus the whole ritual devolved into facetiousness immediately anyway, because after saying it was “The last time [he would see] the bed”, he started saying the phrase about, like, everything around him that his eyes fixated on, including his own body parts: “The last time I will see my leg, the last time I will see that hair on my leg, the last time I will see my hamstring wobbling, the last time I will see the reflection of my face in the window.” This ridiculousness was somewhat amusing to him at the time and also quickly meant the whole ritual had turned into a full-blown joke, although not a really funny joke; he had soon stopped chuckling after he said the phrase because that had become contrived-seeming and weird. But after he said it for the last time, with regards to that cupboard (he knew it was the last time because after he did finish staring deeply into the grains of the cupboard’s wood and all the rest of it, he had sort of made a note-to-self in his head that it would definitely be the last time, he had emphasised internally that it would be the last time, which was also rather Hollywood and thus which he also kind of phrased ironically in his brain) he sort of wistfully blew some air out of his nose and smiled slightly.
Another thing he was thinking about was the fact that, at frequent points throughout the entire past week, he had imagined himself being watched and judged by someone, often a specific person – like his mum or dad or his now distant friend Lucy or Peter – or he had imagined being filmed, both things which very often happened when he was alone generally: a weird quirk of his mind which pretty much informed most of his solitary behaviour, and which, when analysed, sometimes made him want to do the same abstract head-against-wall bashing mentioned previously.
Of course, he didn’t really know why he was thinking about any of this stuff, because, really, he was writing a suicide note and he should have been concentrating on that. Not that that was easy, because how the hell was he meant to start? Should he try to make it a pithy heartfelt statement to his parents just explaining that he was committing suicide, or should it be some elaborate essay that was really well written and impressive and which, like, explained everything – explained pretty much all the stuff his parents didn’t know about him and pretty much why he was committing suicide and apologised for hurting them, and then maybe got all philosophical on the nature of suicide and its popular representation, as well as depression, and the medicalisation of depression, and then maybe had some stuff about mortality in general and the afterlife, like basically a really good, sophisticated meditation on matters of life and death? But surely that was just incredibly pretentious and he was just doing it to show off and it was also really narcissistic, plus he was going to die soon anyway so what the hell did it matter? But maybe that was the wrong attitude, because he should care about this sort of thing, because he wasn’t just a dumb nihilist or whatever, he wasn’t just some emo or whatever; he actually wasn’t just ending his life for nothing, he still thought there was value in the world and stuff.
Eventually, Michael decided that he was just going to start and carefully write whatever came to his mind.
Dear mum and dad and whoever else reads this,

I know it’s pretty cliché to write a suicide note, and pretty lame to begin your suicide note by pointing out how cliché that is, but I guess there are some things that I’d like to tell you before I hang myself, which I’m about to do. […]


When he was on his 12th page, after a few hours solid writing, Michael’s dad walked in the front door and Michael aborted the suicide plan. 

Friday, 14 November 2014

A short story called "Each to their own"

Each to their own

The TV is on, blaring in the background, but Elizabeth is looking down at her phone. She is scrolling through her newsfeed: perusing the photos of couples embracing and people at nightclubs wearing their going-out clothes and family snaps involving children with soppy captions; reading statuses about how happy people are to be in love and how appalling it is that a certain establishment treated them in a certain way and how draconian (what does that word mean?) the recent decision of the government to institute laws limiting press freedom is; judging all the things that her friends have liked – purposely appalling, anti-humorous memes that can make you laugh if you really force yourself to, the inane posts of famous comedians or celebrities, the ‘funny’, usually incredibly sexist pictures and posts from ‘genuine humour’ pages, the pictures of very thin women typically posing in underpants or leggings with their ass or tits the clear focus, and Dan Bilzerian’s photos of himself surrounded by a host of scantily clad women in provocative poses, all captioned with a vile, sexist phrase. None of these things are interesting in the slightest, but she keeps scrolling down her newsfeed. If she were to stop and think about why she is doing it, she would stop doing it. As it is, she knows she is going to keep doing it until she reaches something she has seen before, and then she is going to reply to some texts, and then she is going to check out Snapchat, and then she is going to watch TV with her full attention. Or maybe she isn’t, coz there doesn’t seem to be anything on. Maybe she is going to watch a DVD. In any case, she is going to do something. Of course she is going to do something.
In the kitchen, Julie is making the salad component of the steak meal the family always has on Friday nights. Her laptop is sitting on the bench about half a metre in front of the big, white ceramic salad bowl already carrying an abundance of cos lettuce leaves, some chunks of avocado and some finely sliced Spanish onion. She stares down at the laptop as she adds the slices of tomato she has just chopped up. She is watching the British crime drama she missed last night on ABC iview. A man is getting beaten. His face is covered in blood and his nose is crooked and globs of blood plop out of it. His nose has clearly been fractured by the previous punch. The assailant suddenly flees down the alleyway. As he dissolves into the darkness, Julie goes to the pantry to fetch the oil and balsamic vinegar for the dressing. When she retrieves them and returns to the bench, she makes up the dressing with an expert deftness and pours it onto the salad. On the screen, they are back at the police station, and the two female protagonists are chatting at the front of the shot about their utterly different perspectives on the nervous woman they interviewed about ten minutes before in the show, and in the background people are hurrying here and there, and a phone rings and then gets picked up by a black officer sitting at his desk. Then out of right of screen comes the middle-aged, balding boss with his usual sour expression: “Peter Jones is in a critical condition at hospital. Apparently, he was found in an alleyway with a broken nose and a gash in the back of his head from which he was haemorrhaging blood.” She tosses the salad with two big salad spoons as the two female protagonists voice their reactions. Up, up, up.
In the same general area of the house, John is sitting in front of the family’s big Mac computer watching an episode of Grand Designs on Youtube, using headphones so that its audio does not have to compete with his wife’s. It is about half way through the build, which has been delayed by terrible weather and trouble in getting loans from the bank, and the couple, who are living in a caravan next to the muddy construction site in a field somewhere in the North of England, are saying it has been hard to cope and then the man, whose name is George, mentions his wife, whose name is Katie, has fallen pregnant since Kevin’s last visit. Kevin congratulates them. Now Kevin is walking in front of the house, explaining what still needs to be done and how they are still yet to import the double glass from France. John shifts in his chair slightly, without moving his eyes.
So what am I doing? Typing this up of course. And as I do, I am staring at my computer screen and listening to Sufjan Stevens through my headphones.