The more that our models (using only "dumb physics") are able to effectively model the universe, the less we should assume that the large scale architecture of the universe - even the "medium" scale at the level of stars - are affected by the evolution of intelligent life.
Another way of saying this is that physical simplicity apparently dominates the architecture of stars, galaxies, and superclusters, without the complexity that we see in things like genomes and nervous systems (and the complex behavior those systems allow). If we are able to differentiate something usefully called "life" from background noise, then this complexity is certainly a core feature. At the scale of the universe, with each additional non-puzzling observation we make, it seems more certain that life has not had much effect. When we see a few stars that we can't understand, like KIC 8462852 or Fomaulhaut, that might mean some living things have crawled out of their respective primordial soups for long enough to build Dyson spheres, and we should be happy. But when we see something like dark matter, that's so mysterious it requires a whole new subatomic particle, we should rejoice! Maybe THAT is where everybody is, and that's is the ultimate fate of intelligence, uploaded at the end of evolution into some kind of ether! The sky's the limit! (Until of course, we find out that dark matter is just boring, simple, basic dumb predictable stuff.)
Whether this means that intelligent life does not appear (often), does not last long enough to have an impact, or has impacts at spatially smaller levels than this (see involution), is another question.
To argue that we can't know the impact of intelligences alien and greater than our own is to argue that we shouldn't bother talking about it, because we can't tell if any one proposition about alien intelligence is more likely to be true then another. That's a classic PEP (pointless epistemological problem).
Friday, January 29, 2016
Tuesday, January 26, 2016
I Totally Predicted the Current Metal Dark Age
It's difficult to declare the start or end of an age when you're living in it, but I totally did it dude. In 2011 I looked back and said, "I'm reasonably sure it's not just that I'm getting old, but it seems like we've entered another dead zone. 2009 is the start of the dark age." It's the third such interregnum since metal began as a distinct genre in the 70s.
So allow me to quote a "metal is dying" article, and specifically none other than Cradle of Filth's Dani Filth: "I think the last big year that everyone’s talked about was 2008, the last big year that people across the metal scene said that they bought a sports car or went out and did big shows." Whether there is a shift in culture that will prevent another resurgence, I have no idea - although thanks to the internet, it's pretty hard to scare people with your subculture these days, which is a big negative for a subculture that wants to seem scary, or even be separate at all.
As an aside, have you noticed the recent proliferation of articles and blog posts by grown-ups complaining that Kids Today Aren't Cool? I'm not going to bother linking to one because if you care enough, you can find one on your own. One in particular made me laugh, whining that he saw 20-somethings in a Brooklyn bar listening to Justin Bieber. First, I don't recall a shortage of clones with mass-produced taste when I was growing up in the 80s, so I'm not sure what's different here; second, these articles boil down to "Hey man, if you don't conform to the same music that I (a guy your dad's age) like, then you're not a real rock n' roll rebel!" If only these guys could hear themselves. If rock is dying, no wonder!
So allow me to quote a "metal is dying" article, and specifically none other than Cradle of Filth's Dani Filth: "I think the last big year that everyone’s talked about was 2008, the last big year that people across the metal scene said that they bought a sports car or went out and did big shows." Whether there is a shift in culture that will prevent another resurgence, I have no idea - although thanks to the internet, it's pretty hard to scare people with your subculture these days, which is a big negative for a subculture that wants to seem scary, or even be separate at all.
As an aside, have you noticed the recent proliferation of articles and blog posts by grown-ups complaining that Kids Today Aren't Cool? I'm not going to bother linking to one because if you care enough, you can find one on your own. One in particular made me laugh, whining that he saw 20-somethings in a Brooklyn bar listening to Justin Bieber. First, I don't recall a shortage of clones with mass-produced taste when I was growing up in the 80s, so I'm not sure what's different here; second, these articles boil down to "Hey man, if you don't conform to the same music that I (a guy your dad's age) like, then you're not a real rock n' roll rebel!" If only these guys could hear themselves. If rock is dying, no wonder!
Saturday, January 2, 2016
Star Wars Episode VII Observations (Spoilers)
Quite enjoyable, and as many people have said, on par with episodes III and IV. But most important: Abrams has developed a trick that avoids a difficult problem of rebooting a franchise, or continuing someone else's. If all you do is remake the movie, people accuse you of making a boring recycled risk-averse sequel. If you actually do something original, people come out of the theater saying "I paid to see a Star Wars movie, and that didn't seem like a Star Wars movie."
Star Wars actually doesn't have it quite as bad as other franchises. If a franchise leans on a paradigm shift driven by a big reveal, there's really no way around it. Ridley Scott had difficulty with this in Prometheus because if you have chest-bursters, people will say "Boring!" but if you don't have body-horror critters any kind, people ask how it can be an Alien prequel. I imagine the people making the V reboot had an even worse time. The Visitors are reptiles? Yeah we already know, it's V, do something original" versus "Wait, the aliens aren't reptiles? What is this bullshit?"
Consequently there's an insoluble knife edge of make something new (and too different) or make something familiar (and boring). The trick is to acknowledge the influence inside the narrative, by having characters recognize how they're influenced. This occurs when BB-8 (obviously this movie's R2) meets R2 and has obvious affinity (by the way, nice cat-like head-bump). Abrams uses this trick the most when he builds a character who obviously is copying Darth Vader to a fault, and has collected his mask. Can we imagine Anakin deliberately styling himself after another Sith this way? This youth and even naivete also gives a nice depth to Ren's character. Yes, there is sort of an "I am your father" moment with Solo and Kylo Ren, but it's out of the way relatively early; and there's a nice contrast when he takes off the mask and betrays our expectation of a "creature" underneath. It should also be added that the fallen star cruiser and AT-AT (and the reverent screen-time they get) are in keeping with the practice of the characters themselves consciously referring back to the earlier films.
As an aside, Abrams did something similarly clever in the Star Trek reboot when Vulcan is destroyed. You're watching that movie and you're relaxed because you think, well obviously Vulcan wasn't destroyed...and then it is. You can hear Abrams at the writers' meetings saying "Hey, we're making a science fiction movie. If we're too hemmed in by franchise canon, well science fiction has time travel and we can do what we want."
All that said, the beginning of the new movie seems unnecessarily derivative. Early in the film the plot is established when stormtroopers attack and, as the smoke clears from the carnage, a masked agent of the Dark Side appears with terrifying powers; against all odds the maguffin (a hologram with critical information) is carried by a hapless droid across a desert planet, ultimately found by a mundane wretch who seems to yearn for something beyond the horizon, and ends up in a dirty trading post. Wait, am I talking about episode IV or VII? No way to tell! The main difference is that the attack happened on the planet rather than on a ship in orbit. Somehow it's the fact that it's another desert planet that annoys me the most. I mean come on, would it have killed you for it to be any other climate? Unless Jakku turns out to be the sneakily re-named Tattooine, that's weak. Second on the list of annoyances is another cantina scene, inexplicably in a cathedral in the middle of a forest. On the other hand, in Abrams's defense, better to err on the side of conservatism than make something that breaks with franchise tradition so early.
As a comment on Star Wars generally: it's hard to call these science fiction films. There are swords. There's magic. There are demi-humans that aren't elves or orcs but might as well be. There is not one lick of interest in how hyperdrive works, or the light sabers, or the economics or politics or history of the First Order and Republic. Which is fine, because it's consistent with the franchise, and that's not what Star Wars is about. And speaking of politics, isn't it a little troubling that basically the fate of the whole galactic civilization comes down to one family with special powers? Much like the Superman franchise, which makes Krypton seem like a third world dictatorship where their whole government really just boils down to a struggle between interstellar Hatfields and McCoys (or the -El family and the Zod faction) who bring their provincial little struggle with them wherever they go. (Yes, obviously it's more interesting when everyone is related and then you sell more tickets or comic books, but people invariably complain when one points out how beholden to the narrative is to the true function of the medium that conveys it.)
I didn't notice any lens-flair, although during the Millennium Falcon chase into the engine of the crashed star cruiser, there's a power-zoom that is distinctly un-Lucas-like.
And a final acknowledgement must be made, of Kylo Ren: forensic psychiatrist extraordinaire. I'm going to start wearing black gloves during intake examinations with my patients.
Star Wars actually doesn't have it quite as bad as other franchises. If a franchise leans on a paradigm shift driven by a big reveal, there's really no way around it. Ridley Scott had difficulty with this in Prometheus because if you have chest-bursters, people will say "Boring!" but if you don't have body-horror critters any kind, people ask how it can be an Alien prequel. I imagine the people making the V reboot had an even worse time. The Visitors are reptiles? Yeah we already know, it's V, do something original" versus "Wait, the aliens aren't reptiles? What is this bullshit?"
Consequently there's an insoluble knife edge of make something new (and too different) or make something familiar (and boring). The trick is to acknowledge the influence inside the narrative, by having characters recognize how they're influenced. This occurs when BB-8 (obviously this movie's R2) meets R2 and has obvious affinity (by the way, nice cat-like head-bump). Abrams uses this trick the most when he builds a character who obviously is copying Darth Vader to a fault, and has collected his mask. Can we imagine Anakin deliberately styling himself after another Sith this way? This youth and even naivete also gives a nice depth to Ren's character. Yes, there is sort of an "I am your father" moment with Solo and Kylo Ren, but it's out of the way relatively early; and there's a nice contrast when he takes off the mask and betrays our expectation of a "creature" underneath. It should also be added that the fallen star cruiser and AT-AT (and the reverent screen-time they get) are in keeping with the practice of the characters themselves consciously referring back to the earlier films.
As an aside, Abrams did something similarly clever in the Star Trek reboot when Vulcan is destroyed. You're watching that movie and you're relaxed because you think, well obviously Vulcan wasn't destroyed...and then it is. You can hear Abrams at the writers' meetings saying "Hey, we're making a science fiction movie. If we're too hemmed in by franchise canon, well science fiction has time travel and we can do what we want."
All that said, the beginning of the new movie seems unnecessarily derivative. Early in the film the plot is established when stormtroopers attack and, as the smoke clears from the carnage, a masked agent of the Dark Side appears with terrifying powers; against all odds the maguffin (a hologram with critical information) is carried by a hapless droid across a desert planet, ultimately found by a mundane wretch who seems to yearn for something beyond the horizon, and ends up in a dirty trading post. Wait, am I talking about episode IV or VII? No way to tell! The main difference is that the attack happened on the planet rather than on a ship in orbit. Somehow it's the fact that it's another desert planet that annoys me the most. I mean come on, would it have killed you for it to be any other climate? Unless Jakku turns out to be the sneakily re-named Tattooine, that's weak. Second on the list of annoyances is another cantina scene, inexplicably in a cathedral in the middle of a forest. On the other hand, in Abrams's defense, better to err on the side of conservatism than make something that breaks with franchise tradition so early.
As a comment on Star Wars generally: it's hard to call these science fiction films. There are swords. There's magic. There are demi-humans that aren't elves or orcs but might as well be. There is not one lick of interest in how hyperdrive works, or the light sabers, or the economics or politics or history of the First Order and Republic. Which is fine, because it's consistent with the franchise, and that's not what Star Wars is about. And speaking of politics, isn't it a little troubling that basically the fate of the whole galactic civilization comes down to one family with special powers? Much like the Superman franchise, which makes Krypton seem like a third world dictatorship where their whole government really just boils down to a struggle between interstellar Hatfields and McCoys (or the -El family and the Zod faction) who bring their provincial little struggle with them wherever they go. (Yes, obviously it's more interesting when everyone is related and then you sell more tickets or comic books, but people invariably complain when one points out how beholden to the narrative is to the true function of the medium that conveys it.)
I didn't notice any lens-flair, although during the Millennium Falcon chase into the engine of the crashed star cruiser, there's a power-zoom that is distinctly un-Lucas-like.
And a final acknowledgement must be made, of Kylo Ren: forensic psychiatrist extraordinaire. I'm going to start wearing black gloves during intake examinations with my patients.
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