By Dzongsar Jamyang Khyentse "one of the most creative and innovative young Tibetan Buddhist lamas teaching today" and so on. Goodreads gives it nearly four stars.Wednesday, 19 May 2021
Book review: What Makes You Not a Buddhist
By Dzongsar Jamyang Khyentse "one of the most creative and innovative young Tibetan Buddhist lamas teaching today" and so on. Goodreads gives it nearly four stars.Wednesday, 5 May 2021
Book review: H G Wells anthology
Containing The War of the Worlds as well as The First Men in the Moon and When the Sleeper Awakes, and some other shorter pieces but not The Time Machine.They aren't great. His style is rather dull; the men-in-the-moon I found interminable; and the holes in his proposed tech are so gaping as to be not worth poking. Perhaps unfairly, the ideas don't seem very interesting; he has through no fault of his own been overtaken by both events and other authors. The frame-stories of Victorian gentlemen become tedious after a while.
When the Sleeper Awakes is perhaps the best, after WotW. Man falls asleep for 203 years and when he wakes up compound interest and blah has implausibly made him the nominal ruler of the world; but really of course he isn't; he frees himself from the White Council, and then from Ostrog, and then dies before the cycle can continue another round. It is a lot better than it could be but still... not very good.
The Time Machine
TTM isn't in the book, but I read it after on Kindle, since Gutenberg has it. I remember it from childhood as a film, quite a good one. The book though has all the flaws of the other works. So, the Time Traveller returns - to a dinner party, of course - and tells his tale. And says "well I don't suppose you believe me". And no-one says "well if you really do have a time machine, go forward a week and tell me the result of the 2:30 at Epsom" or how stocks are going to change. No-one says "go into the past and tell me...". So, clearly, no-one does believe him. And in some way it seems even Wells doesn't believe himself; he can't be bothered to invent whatever excuses people are now used to making for why you can't do that; or perhaps, it being a new idea, he didn't think the obvious excuses would work. Come to that, his excuses for why "time travel" renders the traveller invisible and (he doesn't even provide an excuse for this latter) invulnerable don't wash. Really, the story isn't about time travel, that is just necessary to get his narrator in place, it is about future-earth: how humans and the planet might evolve over long periods of time. Similarly, his traveller is pathetically badly prepared for the trip; and makes no attempt to retrieve anything from the future or find anything out.
Monday, 3 May 2021
Our fate moves invisibly! A mystery
Via TF, quoting Grief Lessons: Four Plays by Euripides by Anne Carson:Come here, let me share a bit of wisdom with you. Have you given much thought to our mortal condition? Probably not. Why would you? Well, listen. All mortals owe a debt to death. There's no one alive who can say if he will be tomorrow. Our fate moves invisibly! A mystery. No one can teach it, no one can grasp it. Accept this! Cheer up! Have a drink! But don't forget Aphrodite--that's one sweet goddess. You can let the rest go. Am I making sense? I think so. How about a drink. Put on a garland. I'm sure the happy splash of wine will cure your mood. We're all mortal you know. Think mortal. Because my theory is, there's no such thing as life, it's just catastrophe.
TF doesn't say so, but that turns out to be from Alcestis. Here's another version:
Know the nature of human life? Don't think you do. You couldn't. Listen to me. All mortals must die. Isn't one who knows if he'll be alive to-morrow morning. Who knows where Fortune will lead? Nobody can teach it. Nobody learn it by rules. So, rejoice in what you hear, and learn from me! Count each day as it comes as Life-and leave the rest to Fortune. Above all, honour the Love Goddess, sweetest of all the Gods to mortal men, a kindly goddess! Put all the rest aside. Trust in what I say, if you think I speak truth-as I believe. Get rid of this gloom, rise superior to Fortune. Crown yourself with flowers and drink with me, won't you? I know the regular clink of the wine-cup will row you from darkness and gloom to another haven. Mortals should think mortal thoughts. To all solemn and frowning men, life I say is not life, but a disaster.
The context of this is strange: Herakles, newly a guest of Admetus, is drunk and speaking reprovingly to a sad-faced servant; the servant is sad because Alcestis, Admetus's wife, has recently died, a fact that Admetus has concealed from Herakles in order not to drive him away, which would, Admetus belives, reflect badly on the honour and hospitality of his house. To make it even weirder, Alcestis has died in place of Admetus, in a bargain brokered by Apollo; and Pheres, Admetus's father, has just had a bitter argument with Admetus over who should have died (anyone could have, but only Alcestis volunteered).
To continue with the play... Admetus, though overcome with grief, neglects the obvious: that she is dying for him; and he doesn't have to accept her sacrifice. The Chorus appears to subtly mock him; interspersed with his cries of grief, we get such as "Courage! You are not the first to lose... A wife; Different men Fate crushes with different blows" and "Grief has fallen upon you In the midst of a happy life Untouched by misfortune. But your life and your spirit are safe. She is dead, She has left your love. Is this so new? Ere now many men Death has severed from wives." Ah, but then he does get the obvious: Those who hate me will say: 'See how he lives in shame, the man who dared not die, the coward who gave his wife to Hades in his stead! Is that a man? He hates his parents, yet he himself refused to die!'
It all ends happily though. Herakles, appraised by the sad-faced servant of the truth, resolves to defeat Death and restore Alcestis; this he does - Admetus, seeing her back, wisely asks Beware! May it not be some phantom from the Underworld? aware of the Wife of Ushers Well and similar; but it is her entire.
Tuesday, 27 April 2021
Climbing: lightweight rope / rap cord pondering
Parameter space: Edelrid APUS PRO DRY 7,9MM is 43 g/m but the RAP LINE 6MM is 29 g/m. Over 40 m, that's 560 g: 1.72 kg vs 1.16. Half a kilo is significant. Also, it is thinner so should pack down smaller: if it scales by diameter, the half-rope is ~75% more volume. Update: I bought the rapline. Here it is. Not used yet.
The Edelrid is also not a pure static cord: it says of itself "Withstands two required standard falls for dynamic twin rope tests according to EN 892; Suitable for hauling equipment or abseiling, thanks to the low elongation values". So it is safer than a pure static. I'm not sure how many falls a "proper" rope takes.
I wonder how much my nice slinky 9 mm rope weighs? 49 g/m it turns out... well, 50 m weights 2.43 kg. So I can save 1.3 kg by swapping from that to the 6 mm cord (at the cost of 10 m, well 5m, reach...).
Gimme shelter
While I'm on weights... my bivvi bag weights 615 g.
Tarp
Sleeping mat
The weights of things
Refs
Wednesday, 14 April 2021
Book review: The War of the Worlds
By H G Wells. It is famous, so I won't trouble you with a summary. Is it worth reading, nowadays? As a historical document; or as a description of its times, yes. As a story? Only marginally.And the locations are desperately parochial: Woking, Leatherhead, Weybridge, Chertsey. Such a limited scope.
Quibble: what is the Martian strategy? To invade the Earth, clearly. So why land so close to London? It seems very risky: England has enough tech to destroy three of the "tripods", and really we don't even try very hard. Would it not be better to land in some remote primitive part of the Earth, build up strength there, and then branch out? Indeed, the Martians get pretty lucky - or if you prefer, unlucky: had they landed 100 years later, they'd have been totally stuffed by the tech we have now. But then again, 100 years earlier and we wouldn't be able to touch them. It seems an odd chance that they land then. The book's trope is that Mars is old, and dying: why didn't they land 10, 100, 1000 kyr ago?
What are they even trying to do? Initially they "heat ray" stuff, although why is rather unclear. Why not just be peaceful - at least until all your cylinders have landed - if no-one is threatening you? Or if you want to kill everyone, why not just land a giant gob of "black gas" in the center of London and kill everyone before you even land?
The answer of course is that the Martians don't have any coherent plan, that's not the point: the point is the human reaction to the Martian landing; and their "strategy" is designed - by Wells - around that, to produce an interesting plot, not to any functional purpose. My guess is that the thing was written in installments; it starts with the "heat ray", and after a bit he realises the obvious: that such a device, whilst deadly to any individual, isn't actually going to do much harm to a big city. So he has to invent "black gas" to get an area effect.
Quibble: leaving aside the problem that a "gun" for interplanetary transport really wouldn't work for a variety of reasons, there is: That night [at midnight] another invisible missile started on its way to the earth from Mars, just a second or so under twenty-four hours after the first one. First, it is a bizarre co-incidence that the "gun" should go off at exactly midnight local time. But second, why would the second be 24 hours from the first? Mars rotation period is 24 hours 39 minutes, so you'd expect that spacing (ignoring the slight movement of the planets in their orbits, which gives you a shift but not much of one).
Oddity: how do the "tripods" move? We have: And this Thing! How can I describe it? A monstrous tripod, higher than many houses, striding over the young pine trees, and smashing them aside in its wallowing career : a walking engine of glittering metal, reeling now across the heather ; articulate ropes of steel dangling from it, and the clattering tumult of its passage mingling with the riot of the thunder. A flash, and it came out vividly, heeling over one way with two feet in the air, to vanish and reappear almost instantly as it seemed, with the next flash, a hundred yards nearer. Can you imagine a milking stool tilted and bowled violently along the ground? So I think he envisages it stiff-legged, not articulated; moving by whirling about one fixed foot at a time. This is supported by the pix; though admittedly opposed by other talk which kinda has it bending down. I suspect he had no clear idea; the tech of the time gave him no model. They do have flexible articulated tentacles, but perhaps only for "horror" effect.
Quibble: towards the end, we discover that the Martians have no digestive system: instead they just inject blood. Which they get - schlock, horreur! - from people. But obviously not when on Mars or in transit, so Wells is forced to invent a race of bipeds-from-Mars, who have no purpose other than to feed the Martians.
Quibble: the Martians are killed by bacteria. This is a nice touch. It would have sufficed for them to have had millions of years of medicine and eradicated all disease and lost all immunity. But no! Wells goes, implausibly, further: the Martians have no bacteria at all. Pull the other one guv.
Borges
A fragment from the intro to Labyrinths: Many of his masters are English. He has an infinite admiration for Wells and is indignant that Oscar Wilde could define him as "a scientific Jules Verne." Borges makes the observation that the fiction of Jules Verne speculates on future probability (the submarine, the trip to the moon), that of Wells on pure possibility (an invisible man, a flower that devours a man, a machine to explore time), or even on impossibility (a man returning from the hereafter with a future flower). Beyond that, a Wells novel symbolically represents features inherent in all human destinies. Any great and lasting book must be ambiguous, Borges says; it is a mirror that makes the reader's features known, but the author must seem to be unaware of the significance of his work-which is an excellent description of Borges's own art. "God must not engage in theology; the writer must not destroy by human reasonings the faith that art requires of us." I find that hard to understand; the "Orchid" story that I think is referred to here was dull to read, and uninspired. To me, it seemed like a "hmm, there's all these new and somewhat weird plants coming in; what if... they were flesh eating?" And then, rather tediously, they try to eat him. Borges has also failed to notice that Wells has an (also rather dull) trip to the moon story.
Saturday, 10 April 2021
Book review: I, Robot
Early robot stories by Asimov, featuring the "positronic brain" and the famous "three laws". But these have aged far worse than Foundation. They are clunky, dated, and not well served by the thin "fixup" linking; they'd be better as just unlinked short stories.Friday, 9 April 2021
Book review: Beasts
Is an early novel by John Crowley, the third and arguably weakest of the immortal trilogy along with the intricate The Deep and the elegiac Engine Summer. The book is built around Wittgenstein's quote If a lion could talk, we would not understand him1. True to the quote, and despite valiant efforts, Crowley proves unable to make his lions sufficiently incomprehensible and they turn into analogues of the Indians; it is well worth reading nonetheless. But your word-association with "beasts" will likely be very different to mine; the alternate title for this post was "Peace".Re-read, 2022
Notes
1. Another excellent quote from Big W, on being told that people thought the Sun went round the Earth because it looked that way, is "what would it have looked like if it had looked as if the earth turned on its axis?". Belatedly: I realise (duh) that that big W is not just any old random philosophe; he had a particular interest in language.