Can You Dij It? #1

The most powerful drug in the world is water. The second most powerful is language. But everyone’s on them, so nobody realizes how powerful they are. Well, you could stop drinking water. Then you’d soon realize its hold on the body and the brain.

But you can’t stop using language. Try it. No, the best way to realize the power of language is to learn a new one. Each is a feast with different flavours. New alphabets are good too. The Devanagari alphabet is one of the strongest, but if you want it in refined form, try the phonetic alphabet. It will transform the way you see the world. That’s because it will make you conscious of what you’re already subconsciously aware of.

But “language” is a bigger category that it used to be. Nowadays we have computer languages too. Learning one is another way of transforming the way you see the world. And like natural languages – French, Georgian, Tagalog – they come in different flavours. Pascal is not like Basic is not like C is not like Prolog. But all of them seem to put you in touch with some deeper aspect of reality. Computer languages are like mathemagick: a way to give commands to something immaterial and alter the world by the application of will.

That feeling is at its strongest when you program with machine code, the raw instructions used by the electronics of a computer. At its most fundamental, machine code is simply a series of binary numbers controlling how a computer processes other binary numbers. You can memorize and use those code-numbers, but it’s easier to use something like assembly language, which makes machine-code friendlier for human beings. But it still looks very odd to the uninitiated:

setupnum:
xor ax,ax
xor bp,bp
mov cx,20
clearloop:
mov [di+bp],ax
add bp,2
loop clearloop
ret

That’s almost at the binary bedrock. And machine code is fast. If a fast higher-level language like C feels like flying a Messerschmitt 262, which was a jet-plane, machine-code feels like flying a Messerschmitt 163, which was a rocket-plane. A very fast and very dangerous rocket-plane.

I’m not good at programming languages, least of all machine code, but they are fun to use, quite apart from the way they make you feel as though you’re in touch with a deeper aspect of reality. They do that because the world is mathematics at its most fundamental level, I think, and computer languages are a form of mathematics.

Their mathematical nature is disguised in a lot of what they’re used for, but I like to use them for recreational mathematics. Machine-code is useful when you need a lot of power and speed. For example, look at these digits:

1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 1*, 0*, 1, 1, 1, 2, 1, 3, 1, 4, 1, 5, 1, 6, 1, 7, 1, 8, 1, 9, 2, 0, 2, 1, 2, 2, 2, 3, 2, 4, 2, 5, 2, 6, 2, 7, 2, 8, 2, 9, 3, 0, 3, 1, 3, 2, 3, 3, 3, 4, 3, 5, 3, 6*, 3*, 7, 3, 8, 3, 9, 4, 0, 4, 1, 4, 2, 4…

They’re what the Online Encyclopedia of Integer Sequences (OEIS) calls “the almost natural numbers” (sequence A007376) and you generate them by writing the standard integers – 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13… – and then separating each digit with a comma: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 1, 0, 1, 1, 1, 2, 1, 3… The commas give them some interesting twists. In a list of the standard integers, the 1st entry is 1, the 10th entry is 10, the 213rd entry is 213, the 987,009,381th entry is 987,009,381, and so on.

But that doesn’t work with the almost natural numbers. The 10th entry is 1, not 10, and the 11th entry is 0, not 11. But the 10th entry does begin the sequence (1, 0). I wondered whether that happened again. It does. The 63rd entry in the almost natural numbers begins the sequence (6, 3) – see the asterisks in the sequence above.

This happens again at the 3105th entry, which begins the sequence (3, 1, 0, 5). After that the gaps get bigger, which is where machine code comes in. An ordinary computer-language takes a long time to reach the 89,012,345,679th entry in the almost natural numbers. Machine code is much quicker, which is why I know that the 89,012,345,679th entry begins the sequence (8, 9, 0, 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 9):

1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 63, 3105, 43108, 77781, 367573, 13859021, 77911127, 911360799, 35924813703, 74075186297, 89012345679…

And an ordinary computer-language might give you the impression that base 9 doesn’t have numbers like these (apart from the trivial 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 10…). But it does. 63 in base 10 is a low-hanging fruit: you could find it working by hand. In base 9, the fruit are much higher-hanging. But machine code plucks them with almost ridiculous ease:

1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 10, 570086565, 655267526, 2615038272, 4581347024, 5307541865, 7273850617, 7801234568…

The Art Grows Onda

Anyone interested in recreational mathematics should seek out three compendiums by Ian Stewart: Professor Stewart’s Cabinet of Mathematical Curiosities (2008), Professor Stewart’s Hoard of Mathematical Treasures (2009) and Professor Stewart’s Casebook of Mathematical Mysteries (2014). They’re full of ideas and puzzles and are excellent introductions to the scope and subtlety of maths. I first came across Alexander’s Horned Sphere in one of them. I also came across this simpler shape that packs infinity into a finite area:

unicorn_triangle

I call it a horned triangle or unicorn triangle and it reminds me of a wave curling over, like Katsushika Hokusai’s The Great Wave off Kanagawa (c. 1830) (“wave” is unda in Latin and onda in Spanish).

The Great Wave off Kanagawa by Katsushika Hokusai (1760–1849)

The Great Wave off Kanagawa by Katsushika Hokusai (1760–1849)

To construct the unicorn triangle, you take an equilateral triangle with sides of length 1 and erect a triangle with sides of length 0.5 on one of its corners. Then on the corresponding corner of the new triangle you erect a triangle with sides of length 0.25. And so on, for ever.

unicorn_multicolor

unicorn_animated

When you double the sides of a polygon, you quadruple the area: a 1×1 square has an area of 1, a 2×2 square has an area of 4. Accordingly, when you halve the sides of a polygon, you quarter the area: a 1×1 square has an area of 1, a 0.5 x 0.5 square has an area of 0.25 or 1/4. So if the original triangle of the unicorn triangle above has an area of 1 rather than sides of 1, the first triangle added has an area of 0.25 = 1/4, the next an area of 0.0625 = 1/16, and so on. The infinite sum is this:

1/4 + 1/16 + 1/256 + 1/1024 + 1/4096 + 1/16384…

Which equals 1/3. This becomes important when you see the use made of the shape in Stewart’s book. The unicorn triangle is a rep-tile, or a shape that can be divided into smaller copies of the same shape:

unicorn_reptile_static

unicorn_reptile

An equilateral triangle can be divided into four copies of itself, each 1/4 of the original area. If an equilateral triangle with an area of 4 is divided into three unicorn triangles, each unicorn has an area of 1 + 1/3 and 3 * (1 + 1/3) = 4.

Because it’s a rep-tile, a unicorn triangle is also a fractal, a shape that is self-similar at smaller and smaller scales. When one of the sub-unicorns is dropped, the fractals become more obvious:

unicorn_fractal1


unicorn_fractal2


unicorn_fractal3


Elsewhere other-posted:

Rep-Tiles Revisited

Shareway to Seven

An adaptation of an interesting distribution puzzle from Joseph Degrazia’s Math is Fun (1954):

After a successful year of plunder on the high seas, a pirate ship returns to its island base. The pirate chief, who enjoys practical jokes and has a mathematical bent, hands out heavy bags of gold coins to his seven lieutenants. But when the seven lieutenants open the bags, they discover that each of them has received a different number of coins.

They ask the captain why they don’t have equal shares. The pirate chief laughs and tells them to re-distribute the coins according to the following rule: “At each stage, the lieutenant with most coins must give each of his comrades as many coins as that comrade already possesses.”

The lieutenants follow the rule and each one in turn becomes the lieutenant with most coins. When the seventh distribution is over, all seven of them have 128 coins, the coins are fairly distributed, and the rule no longer applies.

The puzzle is this: How did the pirate captain originally allocate the coins to his lieutenants?


If you start at the beginning and work forward, you’ll have to solve a fiendishly complicated set of simultaneous equations. If you start at the end and work backwards, the puzzle will resolve itself almost like magic.

The puzzle is actually about powers of 2, because 128 = 2^7 and when each of six lieutenants receives as many coins as he already has, he doubles his number of coins. Accordingly, before the seventh and final distribution, six of the lieutenants must have had 64 coins and the seventh must have had 128 + 6 * 64 coins = 512 coins.

At the stage before that, five of the lieutenants must have had 32 coins (so that they will have 64 coins after the sixth distribution), one must have had 256 coins (so that he will have 512 coins after the sixth distribution), and one must have had 64 + 5 * 32 + 256 coins = 480 coins. And so on. This is what the solution looks like:

128, 128, 128, 128, 128, 128, 128
512, 64, 64, 64, 64, 64, 64
256, 480, 32, 32, 32, 32, 32
128, 240, 464, 16, 16, 16, 16
64, 120, 232, 456, 8, 8, 8
32, 60, 116, 228, 452, 4, 4
16, 30, 58, 114, 226, 450, 2
8, 15, 29, 57, 113, 225, 449

So the pirate captain must have originally allocated the coins like this: 8, 15, 29, 57, 113, 225, 449 (note how 8 * 2 – 1 = 15, 15 * 2 – 1 = 29, 29 * 2 – 1 = 57…).

The puzzle can be adapted to other powers. Suppose the rule runs like this: “At each stage, the lieutenant with most coins must give each of his comrades twice as many coins as that comrade already possesses.” If the pirate captain has six lieutenants, after each distribution each of five will have n + 2n = three times the number of coins that he previously possessed. The six lieutenants each end up with 729 coins = 3^6 coins and the solution looks like this:

13, 37, 109, 325, 973, 2917
39, 111, 327, 975, 2919, 3
117, 333, 981, 2925, 9, 9
351, 999, 2943, 27, 27, 27
1053, 2997, 81, 81, 81, 81
3159, 243, 243, 243, 243, 243
729, 729, 729, 729, 729, 729

For powers of 4, the rule runs like this: “At each stage, the lieutenant with most coins must give each of his comrades three times as many coins as that comrade already possesses.” With five lieutenants, each of them ends up with 1024 coins = 4^5 coins and the solution looks like this:

16, 61, 241, 961, 3841
64, 244, 964, 3844, 4
256, 976, 3856, 16, 16
1024, 3904, 64, 64, 64
4096, 256, 256, 256, 256
1024, 1024, 1024, 1024, 1024

For powers of 5, the rule runs like this: “At each stage, the lieutenant with most coins must give each of his comrades four times as many coins as that comrade already possesses.” With four lieutenants, each of them ends up with 625 coins = 5^4 coins and the solution looks like this:

17, 81, 401, 2001
85, 405, 2005, 5
425, 2025, 25, 25
2125, 125, 125, 125
625, 625, 625, 625

Shick Shtick

Slightly adapted from Joseph Degrazia’s Math is Fun (1954):

Six Writers in a Railway Car

On their way to Chicago for a conference of authors and journalists, six writers meet in a railway club car. Three of them sit on one side facing the other three. Each of the six has his specialty. One writes short stories, one is a historian, another one writes humorous books, still another writes novels, the fifth is a playwright and the last a poet. Their names are Abbott, Blake, Clark, Duggan, Eccles and Farmer.* Each of them has brought one of his books and given it to one of his colleagues, so that each of the six is deep in a book which one of the other five has written.

Abbott reads a collection of short stories. Clark reads the book written by the colleague sitting just opposite him. Blake sits between the author of the short stories and the humorist. The short-story writer sits opposite the historian. Duggan reads a play. Blake is the brother-in-law of the novelist. Eccles sits next to the playwright. Abbott sits in a corner and is not interested in history. Duggan sits opposite the novelist. Eccles reads a humorous book. Farmer never reads poems.

These facts are sufficient to find each of the six authors’ specialties.


*In the original, the surnames were Blank, Bird, Grelly, George, Pinder and Winch.

Self-Raising Power

The square root of 2 is the number that, raised to the power of 2, equals 2. That is, if r^2 = r * r = 2, then r = √2. The cube root of 2 is the number that, raised to the power of 3, equals 2. That is, if r^3 = r * r * r = 2, then r = [3]√2.

But what do you call the number that, raised to the power of itself, equals 2? I suggest “the auto-root of 2”. Here, if r^r = 2, then r = [r]√2. I don’t know a quick way to calculate the auto-root, but you can adapt a well-known algorithm for approximating the square root of a number. The square-root algorithm looks like this:

n = 2
r = 1
for c = 1 to 20
    r = (r + n/r) / 2
next c
print r

r = 1.414213562…

Note the fourth line of the algorithm: r = (r + n/r) / 2. When r is an over-estimate of √2, then 2/r will be an under-estimate (and vice versa). (r + 2/r) / 2 splits the difference and refines the estimate. Using the lines above as the model, the auto-root algorithm looks like this:

n = 2
r = 1
for c = 1 to 20
    r = (r + [r]√n) / 2[*]
next c
print r

r = 1.559610469…


*This is equivalent to r = (r + n^(1/r)) / 2

Here are the first 100 digits of [r]√2 = r in base 10:

1, 5, 5, 9, 6, 1, 0, 4, 6, 9, 4, 6, 2, 3, 6, 9, 3, 4, 9, 9, 7, 0, 3, 8, 8, 7, 6, 8, 7, 6, 5, 0, 0, 2, 9, 9, 3, 2, 8, 4, 8, 8, 3, 5, 1, 1, 8, 4, 3, 0, 9, 1, 4, 2, 4, 7, 1, 9, 5, 9, 4, 5, 6, 9, 4, 1, 3, 9, 7, 3, 0, 3, 4, 5, 4, 9, 5, 9, 0, 5, 8, 7, 1, 0, 5, 4, 1, 3, 4, 4, 4, 6, 9, 1, 2, 8, 3, 9, 7, 3…

And here is [r]n = r for n = 2..20:

autopower(2) = 1.5596104694623693499703887…
autopower(3) = 1.8254550229248300400414692…
autopower(4) = 2
autopower(5) = 2.1293724827601566963803119…
autopower(6) = 2.2318286244090093673920215…
autopower(7) = 2.3164549587856123013255030…
autopower(8) = 2.3884234844993385564187215…
autopower(9) = 2.4509539280155796306228059…
autopower(10) = 2.5061841455887692562929409…
autopower(11) = 2.5556046121008206152514542…
autopower(12) = 2.6002950000539155877172082…
autopower(13) = 2.6410619164843958084118390…
autopower(14) = 2.6785234858912995813011990…
autopower(15) = 2.7131636040042392095764012…
autopower(16) = 2.7453680235674634847098492…
autopower(17) = 2.7754491049442334313328329…
autopower(18) = 2.8036632456580215496843618…
autopower(19) = 2.8302234384970308956026277…
autopower(20) = 2.8553085030012414128332189…

I assume that the auto-root is always an irrational number, except when n is a perfect power of suitable form, i.e. n = p^p for some integer p. For example, autoroot(4) = 2, because 2^2 = 4, autoroot(27) = 3, because 3^3 = 27, and so on.

And here is the graph of autoroot(n) for n = 2..10000:
autoroot

Get Your Prox Off

Create a triangle. Find a point somewhere inside it. Choose a corner at random and move halfway towards it. Mark the new point. Repeat the procedure: choose, move, mark. Repeat again and again. In time, a fractal will appear:

siertri

However, if you try the same thing with a square – choose a corner at random, move halfway towards it, mark the new point, repeat – no fractal appears. Instead, the points fill the interior of the square:

sierquad

But what happens if you impose restrictions on the randomly chosen corner (or chorner)? Suppose you can’t choose the same corner twice in a row. If this rule is applied to the square, this fractal appears:

restrict4_T


restrict4_Tanim

Now apply the no-corner-twice-in-a-row rule to a square that contains a central chorner. This fractal appears:

restrict4_Tc

And if the rule is that you can choose a corner twice in a row but not thrice? This fractal appears:

restrict4FT


restrict4FTc


Here is the rule is that a corner can’t be chosen if it was chosen two moves ago:

restrict4_3F

But what if the restriction is based not on how often or when a corner is chosen, but on its proximity, i.e. how near it is to the marked point? If the nearest corner can’t be chosen, the result is the same as the no-corner-twice-in-a-row rule:

prox4_1

But if the second-nearest corner can’t be chosen, this fractal appears:

prox4_2

This is the fractal when the third-nearest corner can’t be chosen:

prox4_3

And this is the fractal when the fourth-nearest, or most distant, corner can’t be chosen:

prox4_4

Here are the same restrictions applied to a pentagon:

prox5_1

Nearest corner forbidden


prox5_2

Second-nearest corner forbidden


prox5_3

Third corner forbidden


prox5_4

Fourth corner forbidden


prox5_5

Fifth corner forbidden


prox5_5anim

Fifth corner forbidden (animated)

And a pentagon with a central chorner:

prox5_anim_c

Now try excluding more than one corner. Here are pentagons excluding the n-nearest and n+1-nearest corners (for example, the nearest and second-nearest corners; the second-nearest and third-nearest; and so on):

prox5n_n1_anim

But what if the moving point is set equal to the n-nearest corner before it moves again? If the corner is the second-nearest and the shape is a triangle with a central chorner, this is the fractal that appears:

prox3_set2c


prox3_set2c_anim

Animated version

And here is the same rule applied to various n-nearest corners in a pentagon:

prox5_set_anim

The Choice of the Circle

Here’s an elementary mathematical problem: how many ways are there to choose three numbers from a set of six numbers? If the set is (1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6), these are the possible choices (or combinations):

(1, 2, 3), (1, 2, 4), (1, 2, 5), (1, 2, 6), (1, 3, 4), (1, 3, 5), (1, 3, 6), (1, 4, 5), (1, 4, 6), (1, 5, 6), (2, 3, 4), (2, 3, 5), (2, 3, 6), (2, 4, 5), (2, 4, 6), (2, 5, 6), (3, 4, 5), (3, 4, 6), (3, 5, 6), (4, 5, 6) (c = 20)

So 6C3 = 20 (C stands for “combination”). The general formula is nCr = (n! / (n-r)!) / r!, where n is the number to choose from, r is the number of choices and n! is factorial n, or n multiplied by all numbers less than itself. For example, 6! = 6 * 5 * 4 * 3 * 2 * 1 = 720. When n = 6 and c = 3, 6C3 = (6! / (6-3)!) / 3! = (720 / 6) / 6 = 20.

There isn’t much visual appeal in the choices above, but there’s a simple way to change that. Take the ways of choosing two numbers from a set of ten. They start like this:

(1, 2), (1, 3), (1, 4), (1, 5), (1, 6), (1, 7), (1, 8), (1, 9), (1, 10), (2, 3), (2, 4), (2, 5), (2, 6), (2, 7), (2, 8), (2, 9), (2, 10), (3, 4), (3, 5), (3, 6)…

Suppose each choice represents the midpoint of two points chosen from a set of ten points around a pentagon, so that (1, 2) is half-way between points 1 and 2, (3, 5) is half-way between points 3 and 5, and so on:

pent_10_2

Now take the ways of choosing three numbers from a set of ten:

(1, 2, 3), (1, 2, 4), (1, 2, 5), (1, 2, 6), (1, 2, 7), (1, 2, 8), (1, 2, 9), (1, 2, 10), (1, 3, 4), (1, 3, 5), (1, 3, 6), (1, 3, 7), (1, 3, 8), (1, 3, 9), (1, 3, 10)…

Now the pentagon looks like this, with (1, 2, 3) representing the point midway between 1, 2 and 3, (1, 3, 9) representing the point midway between 1, 3 and 9, and so on:

pent_10_3

Now here are 10C4, 10C5 and 10C6 for the pentagon:

pent_10_4

pent_10_5

pent_10_6

You can also generate the points 5C4 = 5, then add them to the original five points and generate 10C4:

pent4_1

5C4


pent4_2

10C4


And here are 5C5, 6C5 and 12C5:

pent5

Here are 7C7 and 8C8, adding points as for 5C4:

hept7

octo8

And here is 12C6 using a dodecagon:

dodeca_6

And various nCr for dodecagons and other polygons:

various

This method can also be used to represent the partitions of n, or the number of sets whose members sum to n. The partitions of 5 are these:

(5), (4, 1), (3, 2), (3, 1, 1), (2, 2, 1), (2, 1, 1, 1), (1, 1, 1, 1, 1)

There are seven partitions, so p(5) = 7. Partitions start small and get very large, starting with p(1), p(2), p(3) and so on:

1, 2, 3, 5, 7, 11, 15, 22, 30, 42, 56, 77, 101, 135, 176, 231, 297, 385, 490, 627, 792, 1002, 1255, 1575, 1958, 2436, 3010, 3718, 4565, 5604, 6842, 8349, 10143, 12310, 14883, 17977, 21637, 26015, 31185, 37338, 44583, 53174, 63261, 75175, 89134, 105558, 124754, 147273, 173525, 204226, 239943, 281589, 329931, 386155, 451276, 526823, 614154, 715220, 831820, 966467, 1121505, 1300156…

Suppose the partitions of n are treated as sets of points around a polygon with n vertices. Each set is then used to generate the point midway between its members. For example, (5, 4, 4, 2) is one partition of 15 and would represent the point midway between 5, 4, 4 and 2 of a pentadecagon. Here is a graphical representation of p(30):

partition30

Here are graphical representations for the partitions 5 to 15, then 15 to 60 in increments of 5 (15, 20, 25, etc):

partitions5_60

And here are some close-ups for the partitions of 35 and 40:

partitions40


Post-Performative Post-Scriptum…

The title of this incendiary intervention wrily references the Bible:

The flowers appear on the earth; the time of the singing of birds is come, and the voice of the turtle is heard in our land — The Song of Solomon, 2:12

Power Trip

Here are the first few powers of 2:

2 = 1 * 2
4 = 2 * 2
8 = 4 * 2
16 = 8 * 2
32 = 16 * 2
64 = 32 * 2
128 = 64 * 2
256 = 128 * 2
512 = 256 * 2
1024 = 512 * 2
2048 = 1024 * 2
4096 = 2048 * 2
8192 = 4096 * 2
16384 = 8192 * 2
32768 = 16384 * 2
65536 = 32768 * 2
131072 = 65536 * 2
262144 = 131072 * 2
524288 = 262144 * 2
1048576 = 524288 * 2
2097152 = 1048576 * 2
4194304 = 2097152 * 2
8388608 = 4194304 * 2
16777216 = 8388608 * 2
33554432 = 16777216 * 2
67108864 = 33554432 * 2…

As you can see, it’s a one-way power-trip: the numbers simply get larger. But what happens if you delete the digit 0 whenever it appears in a result? For example, 512 * 2 = 1024, which becomes 124. If you apply this rule, the sequence looks like this:

2 * 2 = 4
4 * 2 = 8
8 * 2 = 16
16 * 2 = 32
32 * 2 = 64
64 * 2 = 128
128 * 2 = 256
256 * 2 = 512
512 * 2 = 1024 → 124
124 * 2 = 248
248 * 2 = 496
496 * 2 = 992
992 * 2 = 1984
1984 * 2 = 3968
3968 * 2 = 7936
7936 * 2 = 15872
15872 * 2 = 31744
31744 * 2 = 63488
63488 * 2 = 126976
126976 * 2 = 253952
253952 * 2 = 507904 → 5794
5794 * 2 = 11588
11588 * 2 = 23176
23176 * 2 = 46352
46352 * 2 = 92704 → 9274…

Is this a power-trip? Not quite: it’s a return trip, because the numbers can never grow beyond a certain size and the sequence falls into a loop. If the result 2n contains a zero, then zerodelete(2n) < n, so the sequence has an upper limit and a number will eventually occur twice. This happens at step 526 with 366784, which matches 366784 at step 490.

The rate at which we delete zeros can obviously be varied. Call it 1:z. The sequence above sets z = 1, so 1:z = 1:1. But what if z = 2, so that 1:z = 1:2? In other words, the procedure deletes every second zero. The first zero occurs when 1024 = 2 * 512, so 1024 is left as it is. The second zero occurs when 2 * 1024 = 2048, so 2048 becomes 248. When z = 2 and every second zero is deleted, the sequence begins like this:

1 * 2 = 2
2 * 2 = 4
4 * 2 = 8
8 * 2 = 16
16 * 2 = 32
32 * 2 = 64
64 * 2 = 128
128 * 2 = 256
256 * 2 = 512
512 * 2 = 1024 → 1024
1024 * 2 = 2048 → 248
248 * 2 = 496
496 * 2 = 992
992 * 2 = 1984
1984 * 2 = 3968
3968 * 2 = 7936
7936 * 2 = 15872
15872 * 2 = 31744
31744 * 2 = 63488
63488 * 2 = 126976
126976 * 2 = 253952
253952 * 2 = 507904 → 50794
50794 * 2 = 101588 → 101588
101588 * 2 = 203176 → 23176
23176 * 2 = 46352
46352 * 2 = 92704 → 92704
92704 * 2 = 185408 → 18548

This sequence also has a ceiling and repeats at step 9134 with 5458864, which matches 5458864 at step 4166. And what about the sequence in which z = 3 and every third zero is deleted? Does this have a ceiling or does the act of multiplying by 2 compensate for the slower removal of zeros?

In fact, it can’t do so. The larger 2n becomes, the more zeros it will tend to contain. If 2n is large enough to contain 3 zeros on average, the deletion of zeros will overpower multiplication by 2 and the sequence will not rise any higher. Therefore the sequence that deletes every third zero will eventually repeat, although I haven’t been able to discover the relevant number.

But this reasoning applies to any rate, 1:z, of zero-deletion. If z = 100 and every hundredth zero is deleted, numbers in the sequence will rise to the point at which 2n contains sufficient zeros on average to counteract multiplication by 2. The sequence will have a ceiling and will eventually repeat. If z = 10^100 or z = 10^(10^100) and every googolth or googolplexth zero is deleted, the same is true. For any rate, 1:z, at which zeros are deleted, the sequence n = zerodelete(2n,z) has an upper limit and will eventually repeat.


Update (30×21)

Six years later, I’ve found the answer for z = 3. And uncovered a serious error in this article. See:

Power Trap

Block n Rule

One of my favourite integer sequences uses the formula n(i) = n(i-1) + digsum(n(i-1)), where digsum(n) sums the digits of n. In base 10, it goes like this:

1, 2, 4, 8, 16, 23, 28, 38, 49, 62, 70, 77, 91, 101, 103, 107, 115, 122, 127, 137, 148, 161, 169, 185, 199, 218, 229, 242, 250, 257, 271, 281, 292, 305, 313, 320, 325, 335, 346, 359, 376, 392, 406, 416, 427, 440, 448, 464, 478, 497, 517, 530, 538, 554, 568, 587, 607, 620, 628, 644, 658, 677, 697, 719, 736, 752, 766, 785, 805, 818, 835, 851, 865, 884, 904, 917, 934, 950, 964, 983, 1003…

Another interesting sequence uses the formula n(i) = n(i-1) + digprod(n(i-1)), where digprod(n) multiplies the digits of n (excluding 0). In base 10, it goes like this:

1, 2, 4, 8, 16, 22, 26, 38, 62, 74, 102, 104, 108, 116, 122, 126, 138, 162, 174, 202, 206, 218, 234, 258, 338, 410, 414, 430, 442, 474, 586, 826, 922, 958, 1318, 1342, 1366, 1474, 1586, 1826, 1922, 1958, 2318, 2366, 2582, 2742, 2854, 3174, 3258, 3498, 4362, 4506, 4626, 4914, 5058, 5258, 5658, 6858, 8778, 11914, 11950, 11995…

You can apply these formulae in other bases and it’s trivially obvious that the sequences rise most slowly in base 2, because you’re never summing or multiplying anything but the digit 1. However, there is a sequence for which base 2 is by far the best performer. It has the formula n(i) = n(i-1) + blockmult(n(i-1)), where blockmult(n) counts the lengths of distinct blocks of the same digit, including 0, then multiplies those lengths together. For example:

blockmult(3,b=2) = blockmult(11) = 2
blockmult(28,b=2) = blockmult(11100) = 3 * 2 = 6
blockmult(51,b=2) = blockmult(110011) = 2 * 2 * 2 = 8
blockmult(140,b=2) = blockmult(10001100) = 1 * 3 * 2 * 2 = 12
blockmult(202867,b=2) = blockmult(110001100001110011) = 2 * 3 * 2 * 4 * 3 * 2 * 2 = 576

The full sequence begins like this (numbers are represented in base 10, but the formula is being applied to their representations in binary):

1, 2, 3, 5, 6, 8, 11, 13, 15, 19, 23, 26, 28, 34, 37, 39, 45, 47, 51, 59, 65, 70, 76, 84, 86, 88, 94, 98, 104, 110, 116, 122, 126, 132, 140, 152, 164, 168, 171, 173, 175, 179, 187, 193, 203, 211, 219, 227, 245, 249, 259, 271, 287, 302, 308, 316, 332, 340, 342, 344, 350, 354, 360, 366, 372, 378, 382, 388, 404, 412, 436, 444, 460, 484, 500, 510, 518, 530, 538, 546, 555, 561, 579, 595, 603, 611, 635, 651, 657, 663, 669, 675, 681…

In higher bases, it rises much more slowly. This is base 3:

1, 2, 3, 4, 6, 7, 8, 10, 11, 12, 14, 16, 17, 19, 20, 21, 22, 24, 26, 29, 31, 33, 34, 35, 37, 39, 42, 44, 48, 49, 51, 53, 56, 58, 60, 61, 62, 64, 65, 66, 68, 70, 71, 73, 75, 77, 79, 82, 85, 89, 93, 95, 97, 98, 100, 101, 102, 103, 105, 107, 110, 114, 116, 120, 124, 127, 129, 131, 133, 137, 139, 141, 142, 143, 145, 146, 147, 149, 151, 152, 154, 156, 158, 160, 163…

And this is base 10:

1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19, 20, 21, 22, 24, 25, 26, 27, 28, 29, 30, 31, 32, 33, 35, 36, 37, 38, 39, 40, 41, 42, 43, 44, 46, 47, 48, 49, 50, 51, 52, 53, 54, 55, 57, 58, 59, 60, 61, 62, 63, 64, 65, 66, 68, 69, 70, 71, 72, 73, 74, 75, 76, 77, 79, 80, 81, 82, 83, 84, 85, 86, 87, 88, 90…

Note how, in bases 3 and 10, blockmult(n) often equals 1. In base 3, the sequence contains [141, 142, 143, 145]:

blockmult(141,b=3) = blockmult(12020) = 1 * 1 * 1 * 1 = 1
blockmult(142,b=3) = blockmult(12021) = 1 * 1 * 1 * 1 = 1
blockmult(143,b=3) = blockmult(12022) = 1 * 1 * 1 * 2 = 2

The formula also returns 1 much further along the sequence in base 3. For example, the 573809th number in the sequence, or n(573809), is 5775037 and blockmult(5775037) = blockmult(101212101212021) = 1^15 = 1. But in base 2, blockmult(n) = 1 is very rare. It happens three times at the beginning of the sequence:

1, 2, 3, 5, 6, 8, 11…

After that, I haven’t found any more examples of blockmult(n) = 1, although blockmult(n) = 2 occurs regularly. For example,

blockmult(n(100723)) = blockmult(44739241) = blockmult(10101010101010101010101001) = 2
blockmult(n(100724)) = blockmult(44739243) = blockmult(10101010101010101010101011) = 2
blockmult(n(100725)) = blockmult(44739245) = blockmult(10101010101010101010101101) = 2

Does the sequence in base 2 return another example of blockmult(n) = 1? The odds seem against it. For any given number of digits in base 2, there is only one number for which blockmult(n) = 1. For example: 1, 10, 101, 1010, 10101, 101010, 1010101… As the sequence increases, the percentage of these numbers becomes smaller and smaller. But the sequence is infinite, so who knows what happens in the end? Perhaps blockmult(n) = 1 occurs infinitely often.

Over Again

In Boldly Breaking the Boundaries, I looked at the use of squares in what I called over-fractals, or fractals whose sub-divisions reproduce the original shape but appear beyond its boundaries. Now I want to look at over-fractals using triangles. They’re less varied than those involving squares, but still include some interesting shapes. This is the space in which sub-triangles can appear, with the central seeding triangle coloured gray: triangle
Here are some over-fractals based on the pattern above: overtri1
overtri1_static


overtri2
overtri2_static


overtri3

overtri3_static


overtri4
overtri4_static


overtri5
overtri5_static


overtri6
overtri6_static


overtri7
overtri7_static


overtri8
overtri8_static


overtri9
overtri9_static


overtri10
overtri10_static


overtri11
overtri11_static


overtri12
overtri12_static


overtri13

overtri13_static