Performativizing Papyrocentricity #51

Papyrocentric Performativity Presents:

Bits of the Best – The Shorter Strachey, Lytton Strachey, ed. Michael Holroyd and Paul Levy (Oxford University Press 1980)

Shaman On U!Copendium: An Expedition into the Rock’n’Roll Underworld, Julian Cope (Faber and Faber 2012)

Scorpions and Sea-LordsPhilip’s Guide to Seashells, A.P.H. Oliver, illustrated by James Nicholls (various)

Spike-U-LikeThe Cactus Handbook, Erik Haustein, translated by Pamela Marwood (Cathay Books 1988)

GlasguitargangDog Eat Dog: A Story of Survival, Struggle and Triumph by the Man Who Put AC/DC on the World Stage, Michael Browning (Allen & Unwin 2014)


Or Read a Review at Random: RaRaR

He Say, He Sigh, He Sow #40

Muerto, no faltarán manos piadosas que me tiren por la baranda; mi sepultura será el aire insondable; mi cuerpo se hundirá largamente y se corromperá y disolverá en el viento engendrado por la caída, que es infinita. — «La biblioteca de Babel» (1941), Jorge Luis Borges (1899–1986).

When I die, there shall be no lack of pious hands to cast me over the railing; my grave shall be the fathomless air; my body shall fall for ever and rot and dissolve in the wind generated by the fall, which is everlasting. — “The Library of Babel”, Jorge Luis Borges.

Oneiric Ocean

20000-leagues-under-the-sea


I like this illustration of a scene in Jules Vernes’s Twenty Thousand Leagues Under the Sea (1870) even more because it has at least one mistake in it. At least, I think it’s a mistake: the jellyfish on the upper left are two Portuguese men-o’-war (really colonial hydrozoans, not jellyfish). They have gas-filled float-bladders, so in reality you see them only on the surface, not hanging in midwater like that. The mistake makes the scene like a dream. The absence of colour is good too: it fixes the illustration firmly in the past and the colours you imagine are more vivid. The artist is imagining, dreaming, conjuring a vision of an oneiric ocean.

Can You Dij It? #2

It’s very simple, but I’m fascinated by it. I’m talking about something I call the digit-line, or the stream of digits you get when you split numbers in a particular base into individual digits. For example, here are the numbers one to ten in bases 2 and 3:

Base = 2: 1, 10, 11, 100, 101, 110, 111, 1000, 1001, 1010…
Base = 3: 1, 2, 10, 11, 12, 20, 21, 22, 100, 101…


If you turn them into digit-lines, they look like this:

Base = 2: 1, 1, 0, 1, 1, 1, 0, 0, 1, 0, 1, 1, 1, 0, 1, 1, 1, 1, 0, 0, 0, 1, 0, 0, 1, 1, 0, 1, 0… (A030190 in the Online Encyclopedia of Integer Sequences)
Base = 3: 1, 2, 1, 0, 1, 1, 1, 2, 2, 0, 2, 1, 2, 2, 1, 0, 0, 1, 0, 1… (A003137 in the OEIS)


At the tenth digit of the two digit-lines, both digits equal zero for the first time:

Base = 2: 1, 1, 0, 1, 1, 1, 0, 0, 1, 0
Base = 3: 1, 2, 1, 0, 1, 1, 1, 2, 2, 0


When the binary and ternary digits are represented together, the digit-lines look like this:

(1,1), (1,2), (0,1), (1,0), (1,1), (1,1), (0,1), (0,2), (1,2), (0,0)


But in base 4, the tenth digit of the digit-line is 1. So when do all the digits of the digit-line first equal zero for bases 2 to 4? Here the early integers in those bases:

Base 2: 1, 10, 11, 100, 101, 110, 111, 1000, 1001, 1010, 1011, 1100, 1101, 1110, 1111, 10000, 10001, 10010, 10011, 10100, 10101…

Base 3: 1, 2, 10, 11, 12, 20, 21, 22, 100, 101, 102, 110, 111, 112, 120, 121, 122, 200, 201, 202, 210, 211, 212, 220, 221, 222, 1000, 1001, 1002…

Base 4: 1, 2, 3, 10, 11, 12, 13, 20, 21, 22, 23, 30, 31, 32, 33, 100, 101, 102, 103, 110, 111, 112, 113, 120, 121, 122, 123, 130, 131, 132, 133, 200…


And here are the digits of the digit-line in bases 2 to 4 represented together:

(1,1,1), (1,2,2), (0,1,3), (1,0,1), (1,1,0), (1,1,1), (0,1,1), (0,2,1), (1,2,2), (0,0,1), (1,2,3), (1,1,2), (1,2,0), (0,2,2), (1,1,1), (1,0,2), (1,0,2), (1,1,2), (0,0,3), (0,1,3), (0,1,0), (1,0,3), (0,2,1), (0,1,3), (1,1,2), (1,0,3), (0,1,3), (1,1,1), (0,1,0), (1,1,0), (0,1,1), (1,2,0), (1,1,1), (1,2,1), (1,0,0), (0,1,2), (0,2,1), (1,1,0), (1,1,3), (0,2,1), (1,2,1), (1,2,0), (1,0,1), (1,0,1), (0,2,1), (1,0,1), (1,1,1), (1,2,2), (1,0,1), (1,2,1), (0,2,3), (0,1,1), (0,0,2), (0,2,0), (1,1,1), (0,1,2), (0,2,1), (0,1,1), (1,2,2), (1,2,2), (0,2,1), (0,0,2), (1,2,3), (0,2,1), (1,1,3), (0,2,0), (0,2,1), (1,2,3), (1,1,1), (1,0,1), (0,0,3), (1,0,2), (0,1,1), (0,0,3), (1,0,3), (0,1,2), (1,1,0), (0,0,0)

At the 78th digit, all three digits equal zero. But the 78th digit of the digit-line in base 5 is 1. So when are the digits first equal to zero in bases 2 to 5? It’s not difficult to find out, but the difficulty of the search increases fast as the bases get bigger. Here are the results up to base 13 (note that bases 11 and 12 both have zeroes at digit 103721663):

dig=0 in bases 2 to 3 at the 10th digit of the digit-line
dig=0 in bases 2 to 4 at the 78th digit of the digit-line
dig=0 in bases 2 to 5 at the 182nd digit of the digit-line
dig=0 in bases 2 to 6 at the 302nd digit of the digit-line
dig=0 in bases 2 to 7 at the 12149th digit of the digit-line
dig=0 in bases 2 to 8 at the 45243rd digit of the digit-line
dig=0 in bases 2 to 9 at the 255261st digit of the digit-line
dig=0 in bases 2 to 10 at the 8850623rd digit of the digit-line
dig=0 in bases 2 to 12 at the 103721663rd digit of the digit-line
dig=0 in bases 2 to 13 at the 807778264th digit of the digit-line


I assume that, for any base b > 2, you can find some point in the digit-line at which d = 0 for all bases 2 to b. Indeed, I assume that this happens infinitely often. But I don’t know any short-cut for finding the first digit at which this occurs.


Previously pre-posted:

Can You Dij It? #1

He Say, He Sigh, He Sow #39

— Croyez-vous aux idées dangereuses ?
— Qu’entendez-vous par là ?
— Croyez-vous que certaines idées soient aussi dangereuses pour certains esprits que le poison pour le corps ?
— Mais, oui, peut-être.

  Guy de Maupassant, « Divorce » (1888)


“Do you believe in dangerous ideas?”
“What do you mean by that?”
“Do you believe that certain ideas are as dangerous for some minds as poison is for the body?”
“Well, yes, perhaps.”

Dice in the Witch House

“Who could associate mathematics with horror?”

John Buchan answered that question in “Space” (1911), long before H.P. Lovecraft wrote masterpieces like “The Call of Cthulhu” (1926) and “Dreams in the Witchhouse” (1933). But Lovecraft’s use of mathematics is central to his genius. So is his recognition of both the importance and the strangeness of mathematics. Weird fiction and maths go together very well.

But weird fiction is about the intrusion or eruption of the Other into the everyday. Maths can teach you that the everyday is already Other. In short, reality is weird — the World is a Witch House. Let’s start with a situation that isn’t obviously weird. Suppose you had three six-sided dice, A, B and C, each with different set of numbers, like this:

Die A = (1, 2, 3, 6, 6, 6)
Die B = (1, 2, 3, 4, 6, 6)
Die C = (1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6)

If the dice are fair, i.e. each face has an equal chance of appearing, then it’s clear that, on average, die A will beat both die B and die C, while die B will beat die C. The reasoning is simple: if die A beats die B and die B beats die C, then surely die A will beat die C. It’s a transitive relationship: If Jack is taller than Jim and Jim is taller than John, then Jack is taller than John.

Now try another set of dice with different arrangements of digits:

Die A = (1, 2, 2, 5, 6, 6)
Die B = (1, 1, 4, 5, 5, 5)
Die C = (3, 3, 3, 3, 4, 6)

If you roll the dice, on average die A beats die B and die B beats die C. Clearly, then, die A will also beat die C. Or will it? In fact, it doesn’t: the dice are what is called non-transitive. Die A beats die B and die B beats die C, but die C beats die A.

But how does that work? To see a simpler example of non-transitivity, try a simpler set of random-number generators. Suppose you have a triangle with a short rod passing through its centre at right angles to the plane of the triangle. Now imagine numbering the edges of the triangles (1, 2, 3) and throwing it repeatedly so that it spins in the air before landing on a flat surface. It should be obvious that it will come to rest with one edge facing downward and that each edge has a 1/3 chance of landing like that.

In other words, you could use such a spiked triangle as a random-number generator — you could call it a “trie”, plural “trice”. Examine the set of three trice below. You’ll find that they have the same paradoxical property as the second set of six-sided dice above. Trie A beats trie B, trie B beats trie C, but trie C beats trie A:

Trie A = (1, 5, 8)
Trie B = (3, 4, 7)
Trie C = (2, 3, 9)

When you throw two of the trice, there are nine possible outcomes, because each of three edges on one trie can be matched with three possible edges on the other. The results look like this:

Trie A beats Trie B 5/9ths of the time.
Trie B beats Trie C 5/9ths of the time.
Trie C beats Trie A 5/9ths of the time.

To see how this works, here are the results throw-by-throw:

Trie A = (1, 5, 8)
Trie B = (3, 4, 7)

When Trie A rolls 1…

…and Trie B rolls 3, Trie B wins (Trie A has won 0 out of 1)
…and Trie B rolls 4, Trie B wins (0 out of 2)
…and Trie B rolls 7, Trie B wins (0 out of 3)

When Trie A rolls 5…

…and Trie B rolls 3, Trie A wins (1/4)
…and Trie B rolls 4, Trie A wins (2/5)
…and Trie B rolls 7, Trie B wins (2/6)

When Trie A rolls 8…

…and Trie B rolls 3, Trie A wins (3/7)
…and Trie B rolls 4, Trie A wins (4/8)
…and Trie B rolls 7, Trie A wins (5/9)


Trie B = (3, 4, 7)
Trie C = (2, 3, 9)

When Trie B rolls 3…

…and Trie C rolls 2, Trie B wins (Trie B has won 1 out of 1)
…and Trie C rolls 3, it’s a draw (1 out of 2)
…and Trie C rolls 9, Trie C wins (1 out of 3)

When Trie B rolls 4…

…and Trie C rolls 2, Trie B wins (2/4)
…and Trie C rolls 3, Trie B wins (3/5)
…and Trie C rolls 9, Trie C wins (3/6)

When Trie B rolls 7…

…and Trie C rolls 2, Trie B wins (4/7)
…and Trie C rolls 3, Trie B wins (5/8)
…and Trie C rolls 9, Trie C wins (5/9)


Trie C = (2, 3, 9)
Trie A = (1, 5, 8)

When Trie C rolls 2…

…and Trie A rolls 1, Trie C wins (Trie C has won 1 out of 1)
…and Trie A rolls 5, Trie A wins (1 out of 2)
…and Trie A rolls 8, Trie A wins (1 out of 3)

When Trie C rolls 3…

…and Trie A rolls 1, Trie C wins (2/4)
…and Trie A rolls 5, Trie A wins (2/5)
…and Trie A rolls 8, Trie A wins (2/6)

When Trie C rolls 9…

…and Trie A rolls 1, Trie C wins (3/7)
…and Trie A rolls 5, Trie C wins (4/8)
…and Trie A rolls 8, Trie C wins (5/9)


The same reasoning can be applied to the six-sided non-transitive dice, but there are 36 possible outcomes when two of the dice are thrown against each other, so I won’t list them.

Die A = (1, 2, 2, 5, 6, 6)
Die B = (1, 1, 4, 5, 5, 5)
Die C = (3, 3, 3, 3, 4, 6)


Elsewhere other-posted:

At the Mountains of Mathness
Simpson’s Paradox — a simple situation with a very weird outcome

Straight to Ell

Another new review of Jesús Ignacio Aldapuerta’s The Eyes:

Γκροτεσκο, ώμο, βίαιο… Σε υπερθετικο βαθμό. Δοκιμαστηκαν οι αντοχές μου και η ανοχή μου. Δεν ξέρω εάν είναι αυτοβιογραφικο, εάν είναι κριτική στον σύγχρονο τρόπο ζωής ή απλά το πόνημα ενός σαδιστη ψυχοπαθους.

Είναι η ματιά του συγγραφέα στα τεκταινομενα ή όσα είδαν τα μάτια του;

Οποια και εάν είναι η απάντηση, η ανάγνωση αυτού του βιβλίου χρειάζεται κότσια, γερό στομάχι και αποστασιοποιηση.

2.5 τα αστεράκια, χάριν στρογγυλοποιησης έγιναν 3. — Review


Translation: Grotesque, shoulder, violent … in the superlative degree. They tested my strength and my tolerance. I do not know if it’s autobiographical, if criticism of modern lifestyle or simply the essay a sadistic psychopath.

It is the look of the author in foursomes or what they saw his eyes?

Whatever the answer, read this book takes guts, a strong stomach and detachment.

2.5 the stars, thanks Rounding became three.


Previously pre-posted:

Eyeway to Ell

De Pluribus Unum

A beautifully subtle puzzle:

Scrambled Box Tops

Imagine you have three boxes, one containing two black marbles, one containing two white marbles, and the third, one black and one white marble. The boxes are labelled according to their contents — BB, WW, and BW — but someone has switched the labels so that every box is now incorrectly labelled. You are allowed to take one marble at a time out of any box, without looking inside, and by this process of sampling you are to determine the contents of all three boxes. What is the smallest number of drawings needed to do this? — Martin Gardner, Mathematical Puzzles and Diversions (1959), chapter 3, “Nine Problems”, #5.

Bald eagle, Haliaeetus leucocephalus (Linnaeus 1776)

Bald eagle, Haliaeetus leucocephalus (Linnaeus 1776)

Answer: You can learn the contents of all three boxes by drawing just one marble. The key to the solution is your knowledge that the labels on all three boxes are incorrect. You must draw a marble from the box labelled “black-white”. Assume that the marble drawn is black. You know then that the other marble in the box must be black also, otherwise the label on the box would be correct. Since you have now identified the box containing two black marbles, you can tell at once the contents of the box labelled “white-white”: you know it cannot contain two white marbles, because its label has to be wrong; it cannot contain two black marbles, because you have identified that box; therefore it must contain one black and one white marble. The third box, of course, must then be the one containing two white marbles. You can solve the puzzle by the same reasoning if the marble you draw from the “black-white” box happens to be white instead of black.

Oh My Guardian #2

“Instead, Mr Comey has rocket-fuelled a venomous contest just when Mr Trump was desperate for a lifeline…” — The Guardian view on the FBI’s Clinton probe: exactly the wrong thing to do


Previously pre-posted…

Oh My Guardian #1
Reds under the Thread