Science

Time-Traveling celebrities: Explained with Science.

We’ve all seen those viral posts about celebrities who definitely came from the past, or went back there to pose as somebody we now recognise from our history textbooks. And we usually scoff at these absurd claims, and declare ‘It’s Photoshop!’ Or something like that. Sometimes we blame the Illuminati. Sometimes we blame aliens. Whatever the cause and effect, we definitely have time-traveling celebrities walking among us.

No, wait, we don’t. I guess the human brain is trained to witness a seemingly impossible, or magical phenomenon and become enraptured. That is the premise of illusionists, after all. We see something incredible, and we want to believe that it is not a trick of the light, sleight of hand or founded in misdirection. We know there is a logical solution to the problem in front of us, and we pretend to search for it, but really we don’t want to arrive at it. As soon as we know the inner workings of anything that amazes us, we are no longer amazed. And we all love being amazed, right? The paper bag trick, for example, whereby a magician throws a goddam invisible coin in the air, which zooms round the room, before catching it in a paper bag and, lo and behold, it is visible again. We hear it land in the bag. How is that done? Here’s a video of Eric Morecombe doing it.

If I click my fingers, the bizarre becomes banal. If you don’t want to know my theory on how celebrities can time-travel, well… spoiler alert. I’m hoping you, dear reader, have seen (or read, the book is better) The Prestige. If not, to summarise, Christian Bale plays two characters who perform a transportation trick (that is, where a person disappears, before reappearing elsewhere) by the sheer fact that they look the same. They are twins. Now I am not suggesting that we all have a twin somewhere in the past, because that would make us some multiple of hundreds of years old. But some of us kind of do.

Time for science! We know that there are finite combinations of DNA. It is a very, very, big, ginormous, colossal number, but it is finite nonetheless. So theoretically it is possible for another human being to look the exact same as you do. Granted, it would be a very rare occurrence; I am pretty sure there are more possible combinations of DNA than the total number of human beings to ever have walked on this planet. But even so, the chance exists that once upon a time a person with your exact features and physique was cured by Jesus himself. This article right here explains all the scientific and mathematical parts of my theory if you wish to better understand what I am driving at.

So, here is a set of images of time-traveling celebrities. I put it to you that this is codswallop; these are just genetic illusions. That said, I’m not sure why that Sphinx looks like MJ; more on that one next time.

Click.

What if the universe is neither finite nor infinite?

I don’t pretend to know very much about science and how stuff works. But I was watching a documentary about infinity and the question was raised about the nature of our universe: is it finite or infinite? The two proposed solutions to this problem are both equally incomprehensible. Let’s assume that the correct answer is that it is infinite. That means we have no chance of ever reaching the boundaries of the universe, because they simply do not exist. And that is a difficult concept to grasp. The balloon analogy is often used as a visual representation of the infinitely expanding universe: imagine that the balloon itself is the entire universe, and as you blow it up it becomes larger in all directions. Some say that that is what the universe is doing too. But even that analogy does not adequately represent the theory that the universe is infinitely expanding since, eventually, a balloon can no longer become bigger and it will burst.

The second theory is that the universe is in fact finite, and its diameter is a measurable constant, theoretically. But that is equally difficult to comprehend: if the universe has boundaries, what is beyond them? We assume that we cannot escape the confines of the universe, and that is true of both theories. But if we could, what would be there waiting for us? Rational cognition does not allow us to be able to imagine an environment where literally nothing exists.

This got me thinking, maybe there is another possibility. What if the universe is expanding, but is not increasing in size? By that I mean, what if the density is changing? Imagine a black hole for example: they constantly increase in mass, but the size of them appears not to grow at the same rate as the size of the matter that constitutes their make-up. Hypothetically, if the Sun was to become a black hole (which is impossible due to its relatively small mass) it would only have a diameter of 3km, but its mass would still be the exact same as it is now. That means that all the material that forms the Sun’s 1.4 million km diameter, would be compressed to a 400,000th of its current size, roughly.

So, if we know for an absolute certainty that matter can remain the exact same size in terms of mass, but occupy a much smaller portion of the universe, could that be what is happening to the universe as an entire entity? Let’s hypothesise that we are becoming denser: although you would assume perhaps that we would notice as that would imply that we are becoming smaller, and that we can measure size as it is quantitative, maybe that isn’t quite so true. What if our rulers are also getting littler? We are only able to measure distances relative to their surroundings. So if EVERYTHING is condensing, it follows that the proportion of everything in relation to everything else observable is still constant.

What I’m trying to say, perhaps without much coherence, is that the universe could be expanding, whilst also staying the same size. If everything condenses to make room for new things, then the balloon can be indefinitely blown up. The problem I have in coming to terms with this theory, or indeed the two preeminent theories, is thus: from my understanding of the laws of physics, you cannot create energy/matter/etc, everything is recycled, so if new celestial objects are being created, from whence did the matter and energy required come? Dark matter? Dark energy? We know very little about these two phenomena, so what if I hypothesise that they can disappear entirely. Not be recycled, and not transfer their energy elsewhere, just vamoose. We assume that dark matter constitutes roughly 80% of the mass of the universe, even though we cannot see it. Well what if it can completely vanish from the universe altogether? Then the universe could remain the same shape and size, but decrease in density. In other words, the stuff in the blackness we call space could expand outwards, without the universe becoming larger. Isn’t that like a black hole? What if all the black holes in the universe suck in matter and then they evaporate, which we know to be true? Then would there not be space for other stuff to occupy?

I have just confused myself. Over and out.

Forgetting the World

Disclaimer: The assertions made in this post are strictly personal. No scientific research was undertaken for the production of this article, nor do I claim to be an expert on mental health. A friend has pointed out to me that different strands of dementia result in different behavioural qualities exhibited by the patients – my subject just happens to be largely peaceful and content. No offence is intended to anyone who’s experiences dealing with degenerative mental health disease differ from my own.

My friend deserves a thank you for bringing this potentially harmful oversight to my attention, so check out her own blog. Her name is Hannah. Tell her I said ‘Hi!’ 

As an afterthought to my last post, about Eloisa to Abelard, and its fundamental message that being able to forget our pain and suffering would result in us being able to live a wholly happy existence, I came to a sudden personal realisation; what if we are, in fact, sometimes capable of this high degree of forgetfulness? What if it is actually possible for a human being to completely forget about the trials and tribulations of their existence on Earth, whilst still remaining on the Earth?

Not so many years ago, my Nan was diagnosed with dementia. As a degenerative mental health issue, dementia causes its ‘sufferers’ to live, so to speak, in the present moment, for the most part. My Nan appears to exist in a permanent state of contentment for the majority of time. In my understanding of life, human beings feel the necessity to strive to obtain love, wealth and happiness. And as I discussed in my last post, it is nigh on impossible to obtain the latter whilst the former two are present. In the case of my Nan, however, she has completely erased the need for wealth and love. Money isn’t an issue to her, and likewise she doesn’t seem to worry if her one true love is absent (as was the case recently). Personally I think it’s incredible that this is even a tangible phenomenon.

In the first line of the last paragraph, I wrote the word ‘sufferers’ in inverted commas because I’m not convinced that people do ‘suffer’ with dementia. If anything, it could be construed as a blessing for the patient, insomuch as they are now free to live ’til the end of their days in an almost unbroken state of contentment. All the pain, suffering, heartache and stress attributed to their preceding days on this planet have faded into nonentity. Dementia allows people to achieve what Eloisa thought she saw in the life of a nun; the ability to forget the world. However, Eloisa came to the conclusion that in forgetting the world, one must also be forgotten by the world, and in the case of dementia patients, that is not the case. Though they may be exempt from the roller-coaster of emotions that is love, their own families still exhibit this love for them. So in fact, it is humanly possible to eradicate the hardships associated with love in oneself, but in doing so the ones who love us experience deeper, longer lasting levels of anguish.

I didn’t speak much about the film, Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind, in my last post, but it has become more relevant now, since it basically backs up my own reasoning. In the film, Joel and Clementine, a modern day Abelard and Eloisa, experience a whirlwind romance to begin with, before things go wrong, and Clementine takes steps to remove Joel from her memory at a special clinic. Joel finds out about this by accident, and it causes him so much unhappiness that he also takes steps to have Clementine removed from his memory. The emotional response experienced by Joel on learning that Clementine has removed him totally, eternally from her life, causes a similar set of circumstances to those caused in real life by dementia. The person with dementia, let’s call her Clementine, has the utter privilege of being  unaware of the pain she has experienced, meanwhile her family, lets call them Joel, has their suffering amplified because they are no longer able to feel the warmth of love that they desire.

I think that Eloisa perhaps got her interpretation of the circumstances of the nun slightly wrong: I do not feel that the nun was happy, as such; I feel that the nun was merely content. On a scientific level, during high periods of stimulation, such as while experiencing love, or while engaging in sexual activity, endorphins are released into the body. These act as a natural opiate and result in an extreme feeling of exhilaration and an overall feeling of well-being. Let’s just suppose that a person, a nun is a good example, manages to live their life entirely painlessly, but in doing so ostracises themselves from feelings associated with love and sex. The endorphin rush associated with these activities allow us to experience an even higher degree of happiness than is usually attainable; we’ll call this true happiness. Excluding oneself from the pleasures and vices of life outside the convent removes the opportunity to experience these higher levels of happiness, thus I conclude that Eloisa was wrong to surmise that a nun is truly happy. I propose that a nun is merely content, in the same way that a dementia patient is also content. All that’s left to fathom is whether or not one would prefer to be eternally content, or to embrace suffering in order to experience the highest realms of happiness.

‘Philosophy Will Clip an Angel’s Wings’ (poetic quotes top 5:1)

I have decided to do a top 5 of my poetic quotes, along with a brief analysis of each, and I shall try to relate each quote to the present day. In no particular order, here is the first installment…

‘There was an awful rainbow once in heaven:
We know her woof, her texture — she is given
In the dull catalogue of common things.
Philosophy will clip an angel’s wings,
Conquer all mysteries by rule and line,
Empty the haunted air, and gnomed mine,
Unweave a rainbow, as it erewhile made
The tender-personed Lamia melt into a shade.’

Keats, ‘Lamia’; part II, lines 231-238

This quote epitomises the debate between Romantic writers (not authors of amorous literature; authors writing between c1800 – 1850) that science and rational cognition was more important than the power of the imagination (including ideas pertaining to magic and spiritualism) , or vice-versa. The narrative of this poem follows the story of Lamia, a serpentine immortal being, who masquerades as a beautiful woman in order to seduce Lycius, a gullible adolescent. Lamia does not come across as evil; it seems that she only wishes to be able to live happily ever after with Lycius, as the fairytale version would surely go. But Lycius’ mentor, Apollonius, sees Lamia for a fraud, and causes her to disappear simply by staring through her. Lycius then collapses and dies too. Although Lamia’s intentions are fundamentally good, it has to be noted that she has achieved her goal through means of deceit. This raises the question of whether or not it is better to find true love, even if that love owes its existence to a deceitful conception, or whether it is better to live a wholly truthful life, even though that truth may cause all happiness to fall to redundancy.

The above passage serves to expand on the narrative theme. Beginning with the first line, the image conjured is of a reverent (the word ‘awful’ is used here in its archaic form; to mean awe inspiring or admirable) rainbow, perhaps created by some sort of higher being or something magical. However, the next line implies that, with the advent of scientific understand, the rainbow is reduced to be included in ‘the dull catalogue of common things’, citing the fact that we know ‘her woof’ and ‘her texture’, meaning that we are aware of exactly what a rainbow is, and how it is caused. This serves to make the rainbow appear banal.

The next line implies the same message, but more directly. Fundamentally, it states that science will render the power of imagination futile. This idea is fortified by the succeeding lines; the idea that science will, eventually, solve all the unanswered questions and erase the possibility of anything magical or fantastical being given as an explanation for something tangible.

The final two lines of the extract force home the overall message of the poem; science will ‘unweave a rainbow’, in other words, cognitive rationale will reveal the true nature of any phenomena, just as the power of understanding resulted in the demise of Lamia.

As stated earlier, Lamia owed her happiness to a lie, thus it is logical to conclude that the general message of this poem is that anything considered magical, spiritual or imaginary is merely a lie and, if we go back to the notion that Lamia is really a serpent, then it is fair to assert that the belief that lies are poisonous is the overall conjecture.

I feel that the message in this poem is still relevant today; with science progressed far beyond what was even imaginable in the 1800s, every day we are disproving more and more ideas that were founded in the realms of the imagination. As a result, we have far less to be in awe of than our ancestors would have done. Imagine, for example, that rainbow once again. Imagine seeing it in the 1800s, before you knew how a rainbow was formed. It’s fairly logical to assume that, since nobody knows how it got there, it must have been but there by divine intervention, or some other spiritual force. But if you place that rainbow into the present day, though we still look upon a rainbow and regard it as naturally beautiful, we still place it in ‘the dull catalogue of common things’. With the progression of science, we are severing our imaginative capability, and it has surely got to be of some degree of concern that a diminishing capacity to imagine and to think spiritually may have a serious impact, one day, on our creative ability. What happens if we were to reach a point of total understanding of the universe? If we were, hypothetically, able to prove that no life existed anywhere in the universe, except on Earth, then that knowledge would have a massively detrimental impact on science-fiction, for example. I think somewhere along the lines, there might come a time when scientific progress might become so advanced that everything currently unexplainable will simply become another item on a list of ‘dull, commonplace’ things. When that happens, the world will be a very boring place.

The Rosetta Spacecraft – The Real Discovery: How Arthur C. Clarke was 13 Years too Early

Provided you haven’t been living in a hole for the past few weeks, you may be familiar with the current European Space Agency mission to track down the comet 67P/Churyumov-Gerasimenko, flying out beyond the orbit of Jupiter. It’s taken 31 months for the Rosetta spacecraft to reach its current position, 800 million kilometres from Earth and, until now, it has been in a ‘deep-sleep’ as it has completed its voyage. The spacecraft runs almost entirely on solar power, and as it has travelled so far from the Sun, those clever folk at ESA decided to put Rosetta into ‘hibernation’ whilst it completed the majority of its journey, so as to conserve power. On its way, it orbited the Earth twice and then completed a slingshot around Mars in order to harness the planet’s gravity and propel the craft into the far reaches of the solar system. Once it reaches its destination, the spacecraft will hurtle alongside the comet before performing the risky task of firing a probe, called Philae, onto the surface of the comet. It will then continue blasting though space following the course of the comet.

                Arthur C. Clarke’s preeminent text, 2001: A Space Odyssey, bears the marks of more than just coincidental similarities to the Rosetta mission. In fact, there is almost a direct correlation between the fictional voyage of the spaceship Discovery, and its real life counterpart. The assignment dedicated to the team aboard Discovery included such duties as journeying beyond the orbit of Jupiter and launching a probe into its atmosphere, before continuing to Saturn. In order to reach Saturn, Discovery had to make a slingshot around Jupiter in an effort to thrust itself further into space.

                Already the parallels between Clarke’s novel and the Rosetta mission are beginning to become apparent. But further depth of analysis is required to really weave fiction and reality into one intangible web of coexistence. As already mentioned, in order to conserve energy, Rosetta was set to a state of deep-space hibernation. This bears an eerie resemblance to Clarke’s description of the condition of Discovery’s crew, ‘the three members of the survey team, who would not be needed until the ship had entered her final orbit around Saturn, would sleep through the entire outward flight. Tons of food and other expendables would thus be saved.’ Although Rosetta is, unlike Discovery, unmanned, the rationale is verging on identical: utilisation of a state of slumber in order to minimise consumption of valuable supplies.

                The eventual awakening of the crew of Discovery relied on a computer, which was named HAL. Clarke describes HAL as the brains of the ship, stating that, when the crew was in hibernation, ‘only the essential systems would continue to operate.’ This draws another analogy between Discovery and Rosetta; ESA project scientist, Dr. Matt Taylor, explained that Rosetta has ‘an internal alarm clock. The clock will say “it’s time to wake up.”’ Barring this alarm clock, the rest of the spaceship will be turned off. Although Clarke perhaps was unable to imagine the possibility of unmanned space travel, the premise of his hypothetical text almost identically mirrors the techniques employed for modern day deep-space exploration.

                In the novel, once Discovery reached Jupiter, it was required to fire two probes into the atmosphere of the planet for research purposes, which is somewhat similar to the task beseeched to Rosetta. Clarke also, like the ESA scientists, recognised the danger of such a task, writing that after the probes were launched ‘there were anxious minutes of waiting, then, for the two watchers on the Control Deck. They could not be certain that the probe would survive…’ For Discovery, the issue faced by the probes was the potential for burning up as they penetrated the Jovian atmosphere, whereas the Philae probe runs the risk of bouncing back off the surface of the comet, due to the low gravity of its target. Though these issues are not identical, the simplified premise remains the same: firing a probe into unknown territory, at some degree of calculable risk.

                Another factor that Clarke identified and utilised in his text was the circumstance that, at that distance from communication centres based on Earth, it would take some time for messages to be relayed between the spaceship and the scientists back home. During a crescendo in the narrative of the plot, a communications antenna on Discovery is reported to be faulty, and one of the crew members decides to relay this information back to Earth and suggest a solution. After his message has been sent, Clarke writes ‘now there was nothing to do but wait for the confirmation, which would take at least two hours as the signals made the round trips past the orbits of Jupiter and Mars.’ BBC News science correspondent, Jonathan Amos, in an article about Rosetta, asserts that ‘the huge distance between the probe and Earth mean telecommands have a one-way travel time of 45 minutes.’ He goes on to quote mission manager Gerhard Schwehm as saying “After 31 months in hibernation, what is 45 minutes to wait?” The accuracy with which Clarke was able to predict the time taken for the transit of communications between Earth and a spaceship near Jupiter is astounding. His prediction that a response would take two hours is in direct agreement with scientific predictions from the ESA, who gave Rosetta an ‘hour-long window of opportunity’ to communicate with them, the exact same length of time given by Clarke for one-way communication from Jupiter to Earth.

                Collating all the evidence, it is impossible not to conclude that Clarke effectively prophesised the mission currently being undertaken by the ESA, and he did so with almost complete, unprecedented accuracy: he described, in vivid detail, the method of deep-space hibernation which, though varied from its application to organic matter in the novel, to its application to computer technology and machinery in reality, was utilised to the same effect: preservation of valuable resources; he explained the necessity to slingshot other planets in order to gain the required momentum to venture into the far reaches of the solar system; he explained the time frame for communications from Jupiter to Earth with exact accuracy; he described the risky process of firing explorative probes into unknown territory. Though there are discrepancies between the fictional adventure of Discovery, and the real life odyssey of Rosetta, bearing in mind that Clarke penned 2001: A Space Odyssey half a century ago, those inaccuracies pale into insignificance when considering the technological and scientific advances we have made in that time (we hadn’t even planted a human foot on the surface of the moon when the manuscript for the book was sent to the publishing house), and it could certainly be hypothesised that Clarke almost predicted the future of space exploration; perhaps he even inspired it. Let’s hope that the Rosetta mission ends more successfully than Discovery’s did!