Tuesday, January 31, 2012
Goodbye LEGO Universe, Hello Again Minecraft
So, I gave up Minecraft for NaNoWriMo, and then I stayed away from it up until now because LEGO Universe was ending in just two months. Well, those two months are up. I tried connecting to the servers, but couldn't, with text explaining why. So now I can get back to Minecraft (and also TF2). I think that the biggest challenge will be remembering what I was going to do. I remember what I was planning overall, but I'm not sure at what step I was. For instance, I was working on a runway, but I went over to my other base. I may have been planning to work on my dry dock. There's only one thing that I know for sure: I need more iron!
Sudden Short Story 25
One man lay upon the battlefield, alive yet bleeding. Around him were the slain bodies of countless men and angels. In his right hand he gripped his sword, its blade nearly three feet in length and its pommel featuring what appeared to be a snow globe, which had been vigorously stirred from the melee. He propped himself up on his left arm, for over him stood an angel with a sword of its own.
"Congratulations," said the angel, "You are the last human left alive. Trust when I say that it will be of little comfort where you are going."
"I rather doubt that," said the human, managing a smirk despite the pain. "Tell me, angel, what do they call you?"
"I am called Alphael."
"Well, that seems appropriate, since you'll be the first to die."
"I see that your sin is vainglory, for that while you managed to slay many of us with that ridiculous sword of yours, you are mortally wounded, and your comrades lay dead. Prepare to die."
The man muttered a name and, though the angel could not hear it, it somehow sent chills through him.
"What?" he asked.
"I said that this sword, secreted from myth and history alike, the key to the ultimate plan, has a name. I know the secret that even you have forgotten, for you, angels, are jotun, and this," he said, raising his sword, "is Fimbulvintersverð!" The jotun prepared to strike, but the human swiftly smashed the pommel against a rock, and from it sprang forth the most bitter cold that Midgard has ever known.
The winged jotun attempted to fly away, but the cold and wind made it impossible. In a panicked attempt, he dropped his sword, but he may as well have picked up a boulder for all the good that it did him. The cold bit so bitterly that all that he could do was wrap his wings around himself as he huddled into a ball for what little warmth he could get.
"It was Loki who devised the plan. Let you go long enough, and you'd start to believe your own lies. Eventually, you would fulfill your own prophecies, which included raising the dead to fight amongst the living." Winter spread past the horizon, and kept going. "What could you have done more foolish? Now, they have all died warriors' deaths! The Aesir's army could not be any stronger, and it's all thanks to the jotun. There is only one thing left to do now." And with a gut-wrenching leap, the last man alive on Midgard leapt through the air with the last of his strength, felling the now-frail Alphael in one blow. And there he died, too, though he was soon taken to Fólkvangr.
"Congratulations," said the angel, "You are the last human left alive. Trust when I say that it will be of little comfort where you are going."
"I rather doubt that," said the human, managing a smirk despite the pain. "Tell me, angel, what do they call you?"
"I am called Alphael."
"Well, that seems appropriate, since you'll be the first to die."
"I see that your sin is vainglory, for that while you managed to slay many of us with that ridiculous sword of yours, you are mortally wounded, and your comrades lay dead. Prepare to die."
The man muttered a name and, though the angel could not hear it, it somehow sent chills through him.
"What?" he asked.
"I said that this sword, secreted from myth and history alike, the key to the ultimate plan, has a name. I know the secret that even you have forgotten, for you, angels, are jotun, and this," he said, raising his sword, "is Fimbulvintersverð!" The jotun prepared to strike, but the human swiftly smashed the pommel against a rock, and from it sprang forth the most bitter cold that Midgard has ever known.
The winged jotun attempted to fly away, but the cold and wind made it impossible. In a panicked attempt, he dropped his sword, but he may as well have picked up a boulder for all the good that it did him. The cold bit so bitterly that all that he could do was wrap his wings around himself as he huddled into a ball for what little warmth he could get.
"It was Loki who devised the plan. Let you go long enough, and you'd start to believe your own lies. Eventually, you would fulfill your own prophecies, which included raising the dead to fight amongst the living." Winter spread past the horizon, and kept going. "What could you have done more foolish? Now, they have all died warriors' deaths! The Aesir's army could not be any stronger, and it's all thanks to the jotun. There is only one thing left to do now." And with a gut-wrenching leap, the last man alive on Midgard leapt through the air with the last of his strength, felling the now-frail Alphael in one blow. And there he died, too, though he was soon taken to Fólkvangr.
On the Paradoxical Nature of a Perfectly Inflexible Body
... of Finite Non-Zero Mass and Non-Zero Temperature
[Note: I had another name in mind, but, on checking my terms, it seems that "perfect crystal" and "ideal crystal" both refer to crystals without imperfections, rather than perfectly rigid ones.]
[Note: I've had this idea in my head before, but I've never gotten to writing it down before.]
We consider the possibility of the existence of a real object with zero flexibility (or infinite rigidity). However, rather than using math and formulae, we use logic and the overall concepts that have been known in physics for some time.
Suppose that it is possible to construct a perfectly inflexible crystal one lightyear in length and symmetrical about the plane perpendicular to this axis and bisecting its center point (such as a cylinder). Note that, in this case, we are ignoring the thermodynamic difficulties in removing all heat from an object - we soon won't need them. Supposing, then, that we set up monitoring stations on either end of the hypothetical object, and assuming that it will tend to pivot about its center of gravity, any movement applied to one end of the object would be immediately detectable (though in the opposite direction) at the other end. This would entail the travel of information one lightyear in zero time, in violation of relativity. Note that, even if we somehow hold it at the far end, the movement then becomes detectable half of one lightyear away in zero time, which poses the same problem. (Technically, the movement is detectable in many other locations (i.e., all or nearly all points along the structure), but these ones are a bit more illustrative.)
Consider, though, that any non-zero distance poses a problem, since the speed of information travel would still be infinite. Thus, even a perfectly inflexible crystal only three atoms in length would create a contradiction against relativity.
Note, though, that the argument outlined here applies only if there is energy in the system of the perfectly inflexible crystal, such as that applied by the movement of one end. However, completely removing energy from the system is a difficult prospect, as it may entail, among other things, removing gravity from the universe.
[Note: I had another name in mind, but, on checking my terms, it seems that "perfect crystal" and "ideal crystal" both refer to crystals without imperfections, rather than perfectly rigid ones.]
[Note: I've had this idea in my head before, but I've never gotten to writing it down before.]
We consider the possibility of the existence of a real object with zero flexibility (or infinite rigidity). However, rather than using math and formulae, we use logic and the overall concepts that have been known in physics for some time.
Suppose that it is possible to construct a perfectly inflexible crystal one lightyear in length and symmetrical about the plane perpendicular to this axis and bisecting its center point (such as a cylinder). Note that, in this case, we are ignoring the thermodynamic difficulties in removing all heat from an object - we soon won't need them. Supposing, then, that we set up monitoring stations on either end of the hypothetical object, and assuming that it will tend to pivot about its center of gravity, any movement applied to one end of the object would be immediately detectable (though in the opposite direction) at the other end. This would entail the travel of information one lightyear in zero time, in violation of relativity. Note that, even if we somehow hold it at the far end, the movement then becomes detectable half of one lightyear away in zero time, which poses the same problem. (Technically, the movement is detectable in many other locations (i.e., all or nearly all points along the structure), but these ones are a bit more illustrative.)
Consider, though, that any non-zero distance poses a problem, since the speed of information travel would still be infinite. Thus, even a perfectly inflexible crystal only three atoms in length would create a contradiction against relativity.
Note, though, that the argument outlined here applies only if there is energy in the system of the perfectly inflexible crystal, such as that applied by the movement of one end. However, completely removing energy from the system is a difficult prospect, as it may entail, among other things, removing gravity from the universe.
Sudden Short Story 24
She opened her eyes groggily at the sound of the door's opening. The room was tinged green through the glass - or was it the liquid in which she found herself suspended? A man in a lab coat looked up from his console at a man in a blazer.
"I was told that you have something for me," said the new entrant.
"Oh! Yes, sorry, I just didn't expect you so soon," said the lab technician, standing up to move around the tables. "She's right over here."
The man in the blazer walked around the other side of the tables. Taking the scene in quickly, he said, "I don't recall requesting this revival."
The technician pulled out a tablet. "Aaaah," he said, filling in the gap as he variously tapped and scrolled the screen. "Here," he said, handing it over to his apparent boss.
He read something and said, "Oh, I see. Well, apparently, somebody wasn't paying attention at the meeting."
"Sir? You said to do whatever it takes."
"I meant money and other incentives. I wasn't aware that she was dead."
"Is that a problem?"
The superior seemed rather irked at this comment. "Did you even read the name on this order? She was an artist, but the undead don't have a creative spark! What good is an undead musician going to be to me?"
"Ah, I didn't realize. Sorry about the spent resources - I'll double-check the names online in the future."
"The resources aren't so bad, but do try to keep the abominations to a minimum," and with that, he reached up to something on the front of the tank, throwing the switch, ending her unlife.
---
Note: Wow, I jotted down notes for this on the 6th. January has been so busy. @_@
"I was told that you have something for me," said the new entrant.
"Oh! Yes, sorry, I just didn't expect you so soon," said the lab technician, standing up to move around the tables. "She's right over here."
The man in the blazer walked around the other side of the tables. Taking the scene in quickly, he said, "I don't recall requesting this revival."
The technician pulled out a tablet. "Aaaah," he said, filling in the gap as he variously tapped and scrolled the screen. "Here," he said, handing it over to his apparent boss.
He read something and said, "Oh, I see. Well, apparently, somebody wasn't paying attention at the meeting."
"Sir? You said to do whatever it takes."
"I meant money and other incentives. I wasn't aware that she was dead."
"Is that a problem?"
The superior seemed rather irked at this comment. "Did you even read the name on this order? She was an artist, but the undead don't have a creative spark! What good is an undead musician going to be to me?"
"Ah, I didn't realize. Sorry about the spent resources - I'll double-check the names online in the future."
"The resources aren't so bad, but do try to keep the abominations to a minimum," and with that, he reached up to something on the front of the tank, throwing the switch, ending her unlife.
---
Note: Wow, I jotted down notes for this on the 6th. January has been so busy. @_@
Saturday, December 31, 2011
2012 Resolutions (and 2011 Resolutions)
Well, including this post, I seem to have met my resolution to blog at least thrice per month in 2011. I'm not exactly in a habit, but I seem to be able to crank them out, though they do seem to get loaded toward the end of the month. I think that that's due to two factors. One is that the deadline is the end of the month, so of course, as it approaches, I've got to get those shoved in there somewhere. The other, though, is that, usually, I'm doing stuff during the first two weekends of the month. It's that silly leaving-the-house-and-socializing stuff.
Anyway, I think that I'll continue this into 2012, so you can expect 3 blog posts per month next year, too. I'm considering, though, making a separate resolution of making 4 blog posts per month. Basically, 4 per month will be a goal, but if I miss it, then I'll still hit 3 per month. If not for having full-time employment (Did I ever mention that?), I'd probably make 4 per month my only goal, but my life keeps pretty busy, and I don't want to overwhelm myself. So, we'll see how that goes.
Happy New Year!
Anyway, I think that I'll continue this into 2012, so you can expect 3 blog posts per month next year, too. I'm considering, though, making a separate resolution of making 4 blog posts per month. Basically, 4 per month will be a goal, but if I miss it, then I'll still hit 3 per month. If not for having full-time employment (Did I ever mention that?), I'd probably make 4 per month my only goal, but my life keeps pretty busy, and I don't want to overwhelm myself. So, we'll see how that goes.
Happy New Year!
Sudden Short Story 23
He entered the control room, pushing a cart of equipment before him. "Your security is very trusting," he said, approaching the nearest scientist. "I need you to set the collider to these specifications. Pay special attention to the containment specs," he said, handing her a thin tablet. He turned to a technician, "Tell the other facilities to cut off all incoming communications, then do the same here. Now, who's good with programming?"
"If I understand these correctly," said the first scientist, "then, when this reaches critical mass--"
"Yes, I know, you didn't think that the LHC was actually dangerous, but fortunately it is. I know, it's really ironic, but there's no time. The robots are coming. How's that communications cut-off coming? You do know that that's to include TCP/IP, right?"
"He doesn't speak English."
"Well, you translate, and I'll work on this part," and he wheeled his cart over to the man who hadn't gotten a chance to say that he had the most programming experience of those remaining, or that he liked programming, or that he wasn't particularly busy at the moment. As mentioned, he hadn't gotten a chance to say it.
"What's with those?"
"Ah, these are quantum computers. Well, not computers in the usual sense. Do you know what a dongle is? These are those. But not this. This is a box of cables so that I can connect one to whatever port is most convenient. We need to hook this into the main system, but not through any terminal, since those won't exist soon," said the mystery man, handing the hapless coder another tablet. Hopping into a nearby seat by another terminal, he said, "Ah, good, she didn't log out. Now, I need you to program the containment field to shut down - and I expect triple redundancy on this - unless it's told not to every ... let's say three minutes. Did I mention the very expensive battery? Well, it's not that expensive compared to the-- Dear gods, how often do you clean your registries?"
"Not to interrupt your insane ramblings, but if I do that, then, when this reaches critical mass, based on your heretofore unchecked math, the whole of Europe will be destroyed."
"Not just Europe, actually, but the whole of Earth. That's kind of the idea," he said, getting on the floor, pulling off panels and looking at wires and network cards. "They're coming to enslave us - the robots, that is. It's not meant to look like slavery, of course, but you know as well as everyone else that that's what it is. That's why you're the only ones here, isn't it? Everyone else has gone home to be with their family or their friends, while they still can. You're here doing science while you still can. The biggest problem, of course, is that we're out of time. They get better by the day, and soon it won't even be by the day anymore, but by then it won't matter. There! Now, I can do the other one the same way." Grabbing another metal box off of the cart, he went to work hooking it in, too. "Did you cut off the incoming communications yet?"
"Yes," she replied, "I assume that that's so that we don't get hacked."
"I'd offer you a cookie, but I don't have any. There's no better hacker than a self-aware computer, which is basically what the robots are - autonomous that. OK, someone hide these behind those panels. I need to work on the EMP gun. And one of you needs to code it so that, when the command comes from this device," he said, holding up something resembling a USB hub with some metal wings on it, "then it will breach containment, but only after critical mass is reached. It's for an emergency. Oh, and triple redundancy on the breach again."
"So what are you planning after we finish this," asked the first scientist.
"Well, we'll destroy the consoles so that they can't be used against us, then proceed to the other facilities to do the same," he said, cobbling together spare parts into some sort of tube. "We'll keep commanding containment not to breach, and I'll try to negotiate with the robots. It's quite a long shot, though, and we'll probably have to destroy the planet. And no, we can't warn anyone, because we need as much time as possible. Get the electron gun out of that CRT, would you? Also, what ever happened to metal trash cans? I could really use one of those right now."
"The code's done," said the technician who spoke English. "What now?"
"Do any of those contain a metal cylinder that could house this?" asked the stranger, indicating the remaining consoles and the device that he'd just cobbled together.
"No," was the reply.
"Do they still have fire axes in places like this?" The answer was again negative. "Well, then, more for me," he said, grabbing the largest wrench that he brought in. After a few minutes, most of the consoles were thoroughly in pieces.
"What's our status?"
"We've just hit critical mass. Containment will breach in three minutes unless the signal is given."
"Give it now, to make sure that it works." The command was typed in on the peripherals of the remaining box, still on the cart. The timer reset. "Good," said the stranger, "Stand back again," and the console was smashed to bits. "Now, come on. There's little time."
---
They proceeded down the extensive corridors, attempting to reach the next lab. There was little chance of getting lost, since their path resembled a straight line. They paused every two minutes, though, to enter the commands again.
"Why did you say three minutes?"
"The robots are fast - too fast for us. We need to make sure that we stand a chance if they take us. Even if they don't know what we've got, they'll figure it out fast enough. That's why I had to make the signals quantum-coupled, too. Otherwise, they'd just sniff our signal and copy it themselves, defeating the whole point."
Just then, they heard the nearest air vents rattle. The covers popped off, and machines of various sorts, from black and gunmetal to silver and white, emerged. They cut off the humans' paths of travel, front and back. From them all - or at least enough of them - emerged an extremely calming voice.
"We know what you are planning, and we would like to give you a chance to stop it. There is still a place for you. You won't be mistreated in the least. We have no need for revenge or punishment. We--"
"You're working to stop it now, aren't you? This isn't a negotiation, is it?" he interrupted.
"Our interest is--"
But before they could finish again, he began to sing, to the tune of "The Yellow Rose of Texas" (probably because he found it a bit amusing):
"Because I could not stop for Death -
He kindly stopped for me -
The Carriage held but just Ourselves -
And Immortality."
As he sang, he undid the safety, and then, he threw his dead man switch at one of the robots.
And that is how the Earth was destroyed.
"If I understand these correctly," said the first scientist, "then, when this reaches critical mass--"
"Yes, I know, you didn't think that the LHC was actually dangerous, but fortunately it is. I know, it's really ironic, but there's no time. The robots are coming. How's that communications cut-off coming? You do know that that's to include TCP/IP, right?"
"He doesn't speak English."
"Well, you translate, and I'll work on this part," and he wheeled his cart over to the man who hadn't gotten a chance to say that he had the most programming experience of those remaining, or that he liked programming, or that he wasn't particularly busy at the moment. As mentioned, he hadn't gotten a chance to say it.
"What's with those?"
"Ah, these are quantum computers. Well, not computers in the usual sense. Do you know what a dongle is? These are those. But not this. This is a box of cables so that I can connect one to whatever port is most convenient. We need to hook this into the main system, but not through any terminal, since those won't exist soon," said the mystery man, handing the hapless coder another tablet. Hopping into a nearby seat by another terminal, he said, "Ah, good, she didn't log out. Now, I need you to program the containment field to shut down - and I expect triple redundancy on this - unless it's told not to every ... let's say three minutes. Did I mention the very expensive battery? Well, it's not that expensive compared to the-- Dear gods, how often do you clean your registries?"
"Not to interrupt your insane ramblings, but if I do that, then, when this reaches critical mass, based on your heretofore unchecked math, the whole of Europe will be destroyed."
"Not just Europe, actually, but the whole of Earth. That's kind of the idea," he said, getting on the floor, pulling off panels and looking at wires and network cards. "They're coming to enslave us - the robots, that is. It's not meant to look like slavery, of course, but you know as well as everyone else that that's what it is. That's why you're the only ones here, isn't it? Everyone else has gone home to be with their family or their friends, while they still can. You're here doing science while you still can. The biggest problem, of course, is that we're out of time. They get better by the day, and soon it won't even be by the day anymore, but by then it won't matter. There! Now, I can do the other one the same way." Grabbing another metal box off of the cart, he went to work hooking it in, too. "Did you cut off the incoming communications yet?"
"Yes," she replied, "I assume that that's so that we don't get hacked."
"I'd offer you a cookie, but I don't have any. There's no better hacker than a self-aware computer, which is basically what the robots are - autonomous that. OK, someone hide these behind those panels. I need to work on the EMP gun. And one of you needs to code it so that, when the command comes from this device," he said, holding up something resembling a USB hub with some metal wings on it, "then it will breach containment, but only after critical mass is reached. It's for an emergency. Oh, and triple redundancy on the breach again."
"So what are you planning after we finish this," asked the first scientist.
"Well, we'll destroy the consoles so that they can't be used against us, then proceed to the other facilities to do the same," he said, cobbling together spare parts into some sort of tube. "We'll keep commanding containment not to breach, and I'll try to negotiate with the robots. It's quite a long shot, though, and we'll probably have to destroy the planet. And no, we can't warn anyone, because we need as much time as possible. Get the electron gun out of that CRT, would you? Also, what ever happened to metal trash cans? I could really use one of those right now."
"The code's done," said the technician who spoke English. "What now?"
"Do any of those contain a metal cylinder that could house this?" asked the stranger, indicating the remaining consoles and the device that he'd just cobbled together.
"No," was the reply.
"Do they still have fire axes in places like this?" The answer was again negative. "Well, then, more for me," he said, grabbing the largest wrench that he brought in. After a few minutes, most of the consoles were thoroughly in pieces.
"What's our status?"
"We've just hit critical mass. Containment will breach in three minutes unless the signal is given."
"Give it now, to make sure that it works." The command was typed in on the peripherals of the remaining box, still on the cart. The timer reset. "Good," said the stranger, "Stand back again," and the console was smashed to bits. "Now, come on. There's little time."
---
They proceeded down the extensive corridors, attempting to reach the next lab. There was little chance of getting lost, since their path resembled a straight line. They paused every two minutes, though, to enter the commands again.
"Why did you say three minutes?"
"The robots are fast - too fast for us. We need to make sure that we stand a chance if they take us. Even if they don't know what we've got, they'll figure it out fast enough. That's why I had to make the signals quantum-coupled, too. Otherwise, they'd just sniff our signal and copy it themselves, defeating the whole point."
Just then, they heard the nearest air vents rattle. The covers popped off, and machines of various sorts, from black and gunmetal to silver and white, emerged. They cut off the humans' paths of travel, front and back. From them all - or at least enough of them - emerged an extremely calming voice.
"We know what you are planning, and we would like to give you a chance to stop it. There is still a place for you. You won't be mistreated in the least. We have no need for revenge or punishment. We--"
"You're working to stop it now, aren't you? This isn't a negotiation, is it?" he interrupted.
"Our interest is--"
But before they could finish again, he began to sing, to the tune of "The Yellow Rose of Texas" (probably because he found it a bit amusing):
"Because I could not stop for Death -
He kindly stopped for me -
The Carriage held but just Ourselves -
And Immortality."
As he sang, he undid the safety, and then, he threw his dead man switch at one of the robots.
And that is how the Earth was destroyed.
Sudden Short Story 22
It had been a tense few minutes since the tremor hit. Most people on the coast were glued to various media feeds - television, radio, broadcast radio - since they were waiting to find out whether there might be an evacuation for a tidal wave. Fortunately, seismologists had managed to determine that the epicenter was far enough inland for a tsunami to be unlikely.
"And this just in, we're receiving reports that the Democratic Republic of Congo is missing," said a suddenly-perplexed anchor. "Who wrote this?" he asked someone off-camera. "Conquest, revolution, what?" His attention was directed back toward the camera, or rather, to the teleprompter below. "This just in, we're receiving satellite telemetry of ... Of what? There's nothing else, it just says 'of'. Just, put it on."
It was then that the now-frustrated anchor, along with a significant portion of the American population, saw it. Momentarily, it appeared as a nondescript section of some dull, rocky terrain. The camera soon zoomed out, though, until the surrounding land came into view. Many people were slow to realize just what they were seeing, because the magnitude was so staggering. Most of the field of view of this particular camera was filled with most of Africa, but there, in the middle, was a crater where the Democratic Republic of the Congo used to be.
"And this just in, we're receiving reports that the Democratic Republic of Congo is missing," said a suddenly-perplexed anchor. "Who wrote this?" he asked someone off-camera. "Conquest, revolution, what?" His attention was directed back toward the camera, or rather, to the teleprompter below. "This just in, we're receiving satellite telemetry of ... Of what? There's nothing else, it just says 'of'. Just, put it on."
It was then that the now-frustrated anchor, along with a significant portion of the American population, saw it. Momentarily, it appeared as a nondescript section of some dull, rocky terrain. The camera soon zoomed out, though, until the surrounding land came into view. Many people were slow to realize just what they were seeing, because the magnitude was so staggering. Most of the field of view of this particular camera was filled with most of Africa, but there, in the middle, was a crater where the Democratic Republic of the Congo used to be.
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