If you thought I was kidding...
Aug. 7th, 2003 08:21 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
shipperxGot a response to my:
You know, all this "approaching infinity" stuff was probably some offshoot of my unending quest to try to wrap my non-mathematical mind around the speed of light... and what the hell is light anyway? (Want to reach an existential crisis? Start reading about string theory, relativity, and the speed of light and realize you have no fucking clue what light is. To reach said state of complete intellectual intimidation I suggest: The Elegant Universe
Response:
Subject: Add in a recent Scientific American
Where they advance the theory of every possbile universe exists, Time doesn't, Every possbile universe exists with different rulez on physics too, etc etc. The time thing is that each moment of time is a different universe, so you exist in snapshots that never go forward or backward in time, but each "step" has more memories. Oooook. Yeah. And you think superstrings and quanta packets are bad. Sheesh.
I have to say that my tendency to read this sort of thing must be my own form of masochism because I was quite serious when I said that I had gone into complete confusion trying to figure out what in the hell "light" actually is. Seriously, it bothered me for days! I think these passages that left me completely confuzzled:
Here's the big leap: Einstein proclaimed that all objects in the universe are always travelling through space-time at a fixed speed--that of light. This is a strange idea; we are used to the notion that objects travel at speeds considerably less than that of light. We have repeated emphasized this as the reason relativistic effects are so unfamiliar in the everyday world. All of this is true. We are presently talking about an object's combined speed through all four dimensions--three space and one time--and it is the object's speed in this generalized sense is that equal to the speed of light. [...] If an object is sitting still (relative to us) and consequently does not move through space at all, all of the object's motion is used to travel through one dimension--in this case, the time dimension. [...] If an object does not move through space, however, this means that some of the previous motion through time must be diverted. [...] That is the clock will tick more slowly if it moves through space. [...] The speed of an object through space is thus merely a reflection of how much of its motion through time is diverted.
We also see that this framework immediately incorporates the fact that there is a limit to an object's spacial velocity: the maximum speed through space occurs if all of an object's motion through time is diverted through motion through space. This occurs whan all of its previous light-speed motion through time is diverted to light-speed motion through space. But having used up all of its motion through time, this is the fastest speed through space that the object--any object--can possibly achieve [...] Thus light does not get old; a photon that emerged fro the big bang is he same age today that it was then. There is no passage of time at light speed...
At which point I went -- wha...? Huh..? He goes on to say that all light is the same age of the universe because, hey, it doesn't travel through time. Gah!
Anyway, on a slightly lighter subject, when torturing myself with "The Elegant Universe" a few years ago, I was writing X-File fanfic and it inspired me to explore AU fic in a fairly direct way.
It's been a while since I've looked at the thing, but it did take me 9 months to complete it.
"Mobius"
Post-Requiem Fic
CLASSIFICATION: X/MSR/A
RATING: PG-13
SUMMARY: While investigating the disappearance of a physicist, Scully finds someone she didn't expect--Mulder.
DISCLAIMER: Not mine. Never mine. Wish they were, but they belong to Chris. Have no money so don't bother to sue.
LENGTH: Novella (48,000+ words)
PROLOGUE
Georgetown Memorial Hospital
Washington, D.C.
4:15 am
The dark was comforting. It was uniform, unchanging and peaceful with only the dull murmur of sound somewhere in the distance. No one sound was distinct. They all rolled together in a low, muted hum --white noise in a black room--and she listened to it intently as if by listening hard enough she could immerse herself in it.
Someone shoved open the door and light blinded her.
"Doctor!" the nurse said. "We need you."
Grabbing her lab coat, she followed the nurse from the on-call room into the green tiled hallway. "What have we got?" she asked as a paramedic crashed through the E.R.'s double doors leading a gurney.
"Male. Mid to late thirties," the medic answered. "B.P. ninety over sixty. Pulse one-ten and irregular. Appears to be in psychogenic shock."
"Transportation time?" she asked as they entered the trauma room.
"Twenty minutes. Four liters oxygen. One I.V. normal saline."
She nodded and crossed to the other side of the gurney ready to transfer the patient to the examining table. "On my count. One, two, now." After the transfer she took out a penlight and shone it into the man's eyes.
"Pupils sluggish." She glanced at the nurse and instructed, "We need a chem 20. Type and cross. Two units."
"He's tachy," an intern called.
She nodded and looked at the cardiac monitor registering a pulse rate of 120 and rising. A heart couldn't sustain that rhythm long without failing. She called for digoxin even as the monitor hit 130 then 135. Her gut clenched when his pulse spiked to 150.
"Is he going to crash?" the intern asked.
Before she could answer the patient flatlined. Frown lines creased her brow as the high pitched whine filled the room. She hated that sound. She hated to admit defeat, and when she looked into her patient's face she refused to accept it.
"Crash cart," she called.
She grabbed the defibrillator paddles and rubbed conductive fluid over them. "Charge. 200 joules."
Everyone stepped back. She shocked the patient. He arched from the bed and her eyes rose to look at the monitor. Grimacing she ordered, "300. And . . .clear!" Again the man arched from the bed.
The intern shook his head.
"Charge 360," she ordered and laid the paddles against the unknown man's bare skin. Again electricity rushed violently through him, but this time it was different. His heart took on a normal rhythm. She nodded and systematically began looking for any sign of injury. There was nothing obvious.
The patient suddenly, miraculously became conscious. He grabbed her arm and looked her straight in the eyes. Her breath caught. It was as if all motion in the room receded to some silent distance, and her entire being focused on this one glance. She read recognition in his
hazel eyes.
"Scully," he whispered, then lost his battle for consciousness. . .
You know, all this "approaching infinity" stuff was probably some offshoot of my unending quest to try to wrap my non-mathematical mind around the speed of light... and what the hell is light anyway? (Want to reach an existential crisis? Start reading about string theory, relativity, and the speed of light and realize you have no fucking clue what light is. To reach said state of complete intellectual intimidation I suggest: The Elegant Universe
Response:
Subject: Add in a recent Scientific American
Where they advance the theory of every possbile universe exists, Time doesn't, Every possbile universe exists with different rulez on physics too, etc etc. The time thing is that each moment of time is a different universe, so you exist in snapshots that never go forward or backward in time, but each "step" has more memories. Oooook. Yeah. And you think superstrings and quanta packets are bad. Sheesh.
I have to say that my tendency to read this sort of thing must be my own form of masochism because I was quite serious when I said that I had gone into complete confusion trying to figure out what in the hell "light" actually is. Seriously, it bothered me for days! I think these passages that left me completely confuzzled:
Here's the big leap: Einstein proclaimed that all objects in the universe are always travelling through space-time at a fixed speed--that of light. This is a strange idea; we are used to the notion that objects travel at speeds considerably less than that of light. We have repeated emphasized this as the reason relativistic effects are so unfamiliar in the everyday world. All of this is true. We are presently talking about an object's combined speed through all four dimensions--three space and one time--and it is the object's speed in this generalized sense is that equal to the speed of light. [...] If an object is sitting still (relative to us) and consequently does not move through space at all, all of the object's motion is used to travel through one dimension--in this case, the time dimension. [...] If an object does not move through space, however, this means that some of the previous motion through time must be diverted. [...] That is the clock will tick more slowly if it moves through space. [...] The speed of an object through space is thus merely a reflection of how much of its motion through time is diverted.
We also see that this framework immediately incorporates the fact that there is a limit to an object's spacial velocity: the maximum speed through space occurs if all of an object's motion through time is diverted through motion through space. This occurs whan all of its previous light-speed motion through time is diverted to light-speed motion through space. But having used up all of its motion through time, this is the fastest speed through space that the object--any object--can possibly achieve [...] Thus light does not get old; a photon that emerged fro the big bang is he same age today that it was then. There is no passage of time at light speed...
At which point I went -- wha...? Huh..? He goes on to say that all light is the same age of the universe because, hey, it doesn't travel through time. Gah!
Anyway, on a slightly lighter subject, when torturing myself with "The Elegant Universe" a few years ago, I was writing X-File fanfic and it inspired me to explore AU fic in a fairly direct way.
It's been a while since I've looked at the thing, but it did take me 9 months to complete it.
"Mobius"
Post-Requiem Fic
CLASSIFICATION: X/MSR/A
RATING: PG-13
SUMMARY: While investigating the disappearance of a physicist, Scully finds someone she didn't expect--Mulder.
DISCLAIMER: Not mine. Never mine. Wish they were, but they belong to Chris. Have no money so don't bother to sue.
LENGTH: Novella (48,000+ words)
PROLOGUE
Georgetown Memorial Hospital
Washington, D.C.
4:15 am
The dark was comforting. It was uniform, unchanging and peaceful with only the dull murmur of sound somewhere in the distance. No one sound was distinct. They all rolled together in a low, muted hum --white noise in a black room--and she listened to it intently as if by listening hard enough she could immerse herself in it.
Someone shoved open the door and light blinded her.
"Doctor!" the nurse said. "We need you."
Grabbing her lab coat, she followed the nurse from the on-call room into the green tiled hallway. "What have we got?" she asked as a paramedic crashed through the E.R.'s double doors leading a gurney.
"Male. Mid to late thirties," the medic answered. "B.P. ninety over sixty. Pulse one-ten and irregular. Appears to be in psychogenic shock."
"Transportation time?" she asked as they entered the trauma room.
"Twenty minutes. Four liters oxygen. One I.V. normal saline."
She nodded and crossed to the other side of the gurney ready to transfer the patient to the examining table. "On my count. One, two, now." After the transfer she took out a penlight and shone it into the man's eyes.
"Pupils sluggish." She glanced at the nurse and instructed, "We need a chem 20. Type and cross. Two units."
"He's tachy," an intern called.
She nodded and looked at the cardiac monitor registering a pulse rate of 120 and rising. A heart couldn't sustain that rhythm long without failing. She called for digoxin even as the monitor hit 130 then 135. Her gut clenched when his pulse spiked to 150.
"Is he going to crash?" the intern asked.
Before she could answer the patient flatlined. Frown lines creased her brow as the high pitched whine filled the room. She hated that sound. She hated to admit defeat, and when she looked into her patient's face she refused to accept it.
"Crash cart," she called.
She grabbed the defibrillator paddles and rubbed conductive fluid over them. "Charge. 200 joules."
Everyone stepped back. She shocked the patient. He arched from the bed and her eyes rose to look at the monitor. Grimacing she ordered, "300. And . . .clear!" Again the man arched from the bed.
The intern shook his head.
"Charge 360," she ordered and laid the paddles against the unknown man's bare skin. Again electricity rushed violently through him, but this time it was different. His heart took on a normal rhythm. She nodded and systematically began looking for any sign of injury. There was nothing obvious.
The patient suddenly, miraculously became conscious. He grabbed her arm and looked her straight in the eyes. Her breath caught. It was as if all motion in the room receded to some silent distance, and her entire being focused on this one glance. She read recognition in his
hazel eyes.
"Scully," he whispered, then lost his battle for consciousness. . .
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2003-08-07 07:41 pm (UTC)And on a sidenote it's been theorized that "ghosts" are in fact apparitions from the 4th dimension that we cannot fully grasp, like a 2D circle trying to grasp the concept of a 3D sphere.
Anyway, hopefully that was of interest to you, if not forget that I mentioned it (and my geekiness LOL).
no subject
Date: 2003-08-07 08:45 pm (UTC)I have read "Flatland" but never "Sphereland."
Have you ever read "Invisible Cities" by Calvo? It's more about art and philosophy but it's interesting.