Entry 121 — Definition of Scientific Account

March 18th, 2010

Many of my thoughts and hypotheses keep getting hammered for being unscientific, including my poetics (which I consider definitely scientific, which is why so many poets hate it).  So, here once again, although newly formed, is my definition of what a scientific account of some aspect of reality is:

An account of some aspect of reality is scientific if it satisfies the following four criteria:

1. It contradicts no law of nature held by the consensus of intelligent, informed observers.

2. Data accepted by the consensus above as factual can be shown by standard logic directly to support it.

3. No data accepted by the consensus above as factual can be shown by standard logic directly to refute it.

4. It is falsifiable.

Note: satisfying the four criteria only makes an account scientific; it doesn’t necessarily make it valid or of any importance.  Moreover, it will always be temporary since new data can always show up.

Because many highly regarded accounts of aspects of nature do not satisfy my four criteria but are accepted by a great deal of experts in the fields they are concerned with, such as physics’s big bang theory, which some facts contradict (the ones requiring the further hypothesis of the existence of unobserved “dark matter”) and which breaks certain laws of nature (the ones requiring such certain laws of nature to be different when the big bang occurred),  I also have a definition of what I call “Near-Scientific Accounts.”

An account of some aspect of reality is near-scientific if it satisfies the following four criteria:

1. If it contradicts a law of nature held by the consensus of intelligent, informed observers, the same consensus agrees that some end-around (like dark matter) is plausible.

2. Data accepted by the consensus above as factual can be shown by standard logic directly to support it.

3. If some data accepted as factual can be shown by standard logic directly to refute it, experts agree that some end-around is plausible.

4. It is falsifiable.

An account of some aspect of reality that is neither scientific nor near-scientific is unscientific.

Okay, in a few hours I should be an a Greyhound bus on my way to South Carolina.  I hope to post at least once from there.  If not, expect a new entry around April Fools’ Day.

Entry 120 — Responding to Narratives of Misery

March 17th, 2010

Topic: why some people like narratives about miserable people.   A variation on why people like tragedy–as, on the surface, they should not, if my claim that the object of art is to give pleasure is true.

1. The standard answer: one experiencing the narrative experiences the beauty of the ugly material’s aesthetic expression.  The artist provides a taming order to horror, and pleasurable details, for instance, as with Macbeth’s famous “sound and fury.”

2. A simple psychological answer: it results in an “Ah, I’m not alone!” for someone empathetic who is exposed to it.

3. Another obvious one: it produces in the person experiencing it the kind of happiness one gets from looking through a window of a snug, secure house at a blizzard.

Entry 119 — Defining Visual Poetry Again

March 16th, 2010

In a month or so, John Bennett’s and my selection for a gallery of visual poems in The Pedestal should be appearing.  John and I each will be providing a preface for it, as I understand it.  In any case, I started thinking about mine last night.  Once again I returned to my obsession with defining “visual poetry.”  This time, though, I wasn’t concerned with my main definitional obsession, the requirement of visual poetry to contain words, but with a lesser obsession, the requirement that a visual poem be more than an illustrated poem, or poetically captioned illustration–because of an excellent submission I got consisting of several arresting visual images, each with a haiku running across its bottom.

Dogma#1: a visual poem must consist of a significant graphic element significantly interacting with a significant verbal element.  Dogma #2: a reader of the poem must experience the poem’s graphic and verbal elements simultaneously.  There will come a day when neurophysiologists will be able to detect this simultaneous experience.  Thereupon we will have an objective way of determining whether a not a given work is a visual poem–for a given person.

This simultaneous experience seems to me the whole point of visual poetry, difficult though it be to provide it.   My “Nocturne” demonstrates how it is done, so that’s the poem I’ll be using as my “Editor’s Poem” for the gallery.  It’s based on the simple idea of dotting all the letters in “night” to suggest stars, then doing the same with “voice” to indicate a voice with stars in it.  Very sentimental, but a favorite of mine.  For some reason, though, I can’t find it in my computer files, so apparently have not yet saved it digitally.

Entry 118 — Geof Huth’s Collected Pwoermds

March 15th, 2010

I haven’t started my trip yet. My body conked out before I could–some kind of virus, I guess. So I’m still at home. Should be leaving in a couple of days.

I was feeling too lousy to post anything here for two or three days, and wouldn’t today, either, although I feel a lot better.   However, today I got a copy of Geof Huth’s NTST, the subtitle of which is the collected pwoermds of geof huth. It’s perfect for a blog entry because I can quote whole poems from it quickly, and because I found some pwoermds I can be quickly insightful about.   So, here’s one page:

an/atomy

shadowl

rayns

watearth

upond

psilence

These pwoerds are absolutely representative of the many (hundreds?) pwoermds in the collection, which I mention in case anyone suspects I chose them to show him at his very best.  Two thoughts: that he misspelled “psylence,” and that “shadowl” is such an especially good pwoermd that it ought to be on a page by iself.  The selections on this page are intended, I’m sure, to be stand-alones, but they also look like and work as a five-line poem.   That I find “sahdowl” better clearly by itself is ironic, for I’ve several times opined that while pwoermds could occasionally be terrific, they work best as part of longer poems.

Oddly, I find evidence for this (in my opinion) on the very next page of NTST:

Pebbleslight


stilllllife


I like it much better as “pebbleslight stilllllife.”  Of course, with the title (and Geof defines pwoermds as one-word poems without a title), one still reads pebbles into the still life.  I just like the linkage closer.  I’d like a detail or two more, too–really, I’d like a full-scale haiku using “pebbleslight stilllllife.”  Which is absolutely not to say I don’t extremely like the piece exactly as Geof has it.

Oh, NTST was published in England by if p then q (apparently not an offshoot of Geof’s dbqp press).  Its website is at www.ifpthenq.co.uk.

Entry 117 — Another Vacation

March 11th, 2010

I don’t know how long this one will last–I need to go out of state to help out with one of my brothers, who is sick (as is his wife).  Will be very busy–and probably not have access to a computer.

Entry 116 — Finally Back

March 9th, 2010

All I have today is a revision of my last mathemaku:

The title of the piece is “Mathemaku in Honor of Andrea Bianco’s 1436 Map of the World.”  I changed the previous quotient from “music” to a picture of a lute.  My reasoning was that “music” was too general; I wanted something that said “medieval.”  I’m satisfied with it now.

I’m a bit shocked to see how long it’s been since my last entry here.  I thought it’d only been four or five days.  I’m going to try to post more often now, maybe not daily but at least three or four times a week.  The past three days I’ve woken up feeling good.  I’ve been more productive though not as productive as I’d like to be.  Still, I’m out of the null zone I was in.

Part of the reason for that is that my bad leg (due apparently to sciatica) is better, although I still can’t run on it to any extent.  I’m optimistic that it will fully come around if I give it time and don’t play tennis again till I’m sure it’s okay.  Three times I played when it seemed okay but not right, and each time suffered during the next few days.

The pain pills I’m taking for the problem are probably (alas) the main reason I’m feeling so good psychologically.  Also contributing it the fact that I’m winning the game of Civilization I’m playing in!  I’ve never won it at the level I’m now playing it at.  This shouldn’t mean anything but it means a ridiculously lot!  Winning just about any kind of competition really zings me!

That’s it for now.  Hope to be back tomorrow.  Will definitely be back before the week ends.

Entry 115 — The Knowleplex

February 27th, 2010

The knowleplex is simply a chain of related memories–A.B.C.D.E., say–or a knowledge-chain. It is what we remember whenever we are taught anything, either formally at school (when our teacher tells us Washington is the capital of the United States, for instance) or informally during day-to-day experience (when we see our friend Sam has a pet cat).

There are three kinds: rigiplexes, flexiplexes and feebliplexes, the name depending on the strength of the knowleplex. One is too strong, one too weak, and the other just right. If we let A.B.C.D.E. stand for “one plus two is three,” then a person with a rigiplex “inscribed” with that, asked what one plus two is, will quickly answer, “three.” But if asked what one plus four is, he will give the same answer, because his rigiplex will be so strong it will become wholly active due only to “one plus.”

On the other hand, a person with a feebliplex “inscribed” with “one plus two is three,” asked what one plus two is, will answer “I dunno,” because his feebliplex will be so weak, even “one plus two is” won’t be enough for his knowlplex to become active. Ditto when asked what one plus four is. But the person whose knowleplex is just right–whose knowleplex is a flexiplex, that is–will answer the first question, “three,” and the second, “I dunno.”

Needless to say, this overview is extremely simplified. Even “one plus two is three” will form a vastly more complicated knowleplex than A.B.C.D.E. The strength of a given knowleplex will vary, too, sometimes a lot, depending on the circumstances when it is activated. And each kind of knowleplex will vary in strength, some feebliplexes being almost as strong as a flexiplex, for example. In fact, a feebliplex can, in time, become a rigiplex. For the purposes of this introduction to knowleplexes, however, all this can be ignored.

Entry 114 — “Mathemaku in Honor of Andrea Bianco’s 1436 Map of the World”

February 25th, 2010

Surprise!  I’m back already.  May be back on vacation tomorrow, though.   I’m back today because I somehow managed to produce a new mathemaku yesterday:

Mathemaku in Honor of Andrea Bianco's 1436 Map of the World

Entry 113 — Another Vacation

February 24th, 2010

Guess what.  I’m taking a vacation from blogging again.  I’m not sure how long it will last.  All I know is that I don’t seem to have anything to write about, and I lack the energy to convert the diary entries I’m planning to use in the next volume of my Of Manywhere-at-Once into anything even semi-readable.  So, see you later.

Entry 111 — Certainties

February 20th, 2010

I think recently I wrote of the impossibility of knowing a true absolute.  It would require omniscience to do so, I believe.  But that does not mean there are no true absolutes.

Just now, I realized that we can know a true absolute.  When?  Sorry for the anti-climax, but it’s when we have defined absolutes into a system.  One such system would be mathematics.  If a equals 5 and b equals 7, then it is an absolute certainty that the sum of a and b is 12.  Syllogisms yield absolute truths as well in a similar way.  If all men can reason and Joe is a man, it is an absolute certainty that Joe is a man.  Or: it is absolutely certain that something said to fit a definition fits that definition.

In any event, I now decree a new hierarchy of certainties, listed here from most to least certain:

1. Philosophical Certainty (we can’t know of any)

2. Mathematical Certainty (e.g., 5 times 3 is 15)

3. Scientific Certainty (e.g., gravity keeps the moon from escaping the solar system)

4. Historical Certainty (e.g., Shakespeare wrote the works attributed to him)

5. Everyday Certainty (e.g., I watched Joe and Bucky play Ed and Marty in tennis this morning)

Each of these is certain, but a small step less certain than the one listed above it.  Any of them may also be Philosophically Certain but we can never know if it is.

Have I now worked out something college freshmen are taught in Philosophy courses?  It does seems painfully obvious to me.  Yet I know that there are many who will find is too advanced to understand, including people who have taken more than an introductory college course in philosophy.