Complements

Mathematicians learn, fairly early on in their intellectual development, that presence and absence are the exact same thing, simply observed from opposite directions.  To a more reality-based mind (and anyone who argues maths is reality based simply hasn't done enough maths to know what they're talking about), there are sights and sounds and tastes in abundance that distinguish what we have from what we don't have, but in the realm of sets and closures and numbers both rational and otherwise, an outline is an outline, and it doesn't really matter on which side of it you're standing.  The train tracks from one to the other go both ways, after all.

If "Paradiso" was about what Lucifer has, then, either what he's gained from his new universe or imported from his own one (which is far more than he wants to admit to), then "Purgatorio" deals with what he lacks.  And not just him, by any means.

Every character in fiction can be broken down according to four criteria: what they have and want, what they have but don't want, what they are trying to acquire, and what they are trying to avoid.  Lucifer has said right from the very beginning that there is nothing he is trying to acquire (that's why the Voiceless Gods were unable to influence him) and that nothing he has is of any interest to him (or so he keeps insisting to Mazikeen, at any rate).  Nor is the fear or losing anything something he would or could ever admit to.  What drives Lucifer - or, more to the point, what he says drives him - is simply the desire to be rid of those things he does not desire.

1.7 Matriculation, Part 4: Keep Digging

Apparently some costs are universal.

1.8                                                                     1.6

Ursine Undone!

This is something you don't see every day.  Though you should, obviously.  Let all dangerous and voracious predators be warned: come at our dogs, and we will fuck you up.

Artist's impression



The Lies Of Locke Lamora

(Very minor spoilers follow)

Maybe it was the quote from him on the front cover, but I read Scott Lynch's debut novel feeling repeatedly reminded of George R R Martin's Song of Ice and Fire.

That, of course, is no mean praise, and Lynch's prose is certainly no pale imitation.  There's just something in all the political wrangling, the street-level view of grand events, and (most especially) the loving descriptions of food that ring a rather distinctive bell. 

(That, and the fact that this is (inevitably) the first part of a seven part series that (equally inevitably) isn't finished, and hasn't been updated in years; though this book at least works just fine as a standalone story).

There's also the characterisation to consider.  Whilst Locke Lamora is a somewhat stunted youth rather than an actual dwarf, and his parentage (so far as we know) is decidedly far less noble, one could do worse for an understanding of what this book offers than imagining Lynch woke up one morning and thought "Let's just have a whole book's worth of Tyrion."

The Lies of Locke Lamora is somewhere around 70% Tyrionesque wit and cunning, 20% the Artful Dodger, and 5% each of House of Cards and The Real Hustle, all set in one of those rarest of locations - somewhere simultaneously familiar and fantastical (think Venice if it had been built by long-dead aliens with a fondness for glass and sharks) which allows itself to be unfurled and explored slowly, rather than requiring clumsy tours early into the action.  It's pacey, clever (sometimes exceptionally so), and stuffed full of interesting characters (both real and faked), and captures very well (again, this is reminiscent of Martin's work) the clash of multiple political factions, in which the very worst of enemies can end up unknowingly helping each other as they both gun for the same third party.

Simply put: it's brilliant (and funnier than Martin, too).  Buy it immediately.

Started Bad, Got Worse

Never afraid to exploit misfortune and tragedy, some of the more odious members of American conservatism are keen to point out to us all that earthquake/tropical storm shenanigans constitute "acts of God", and that the eponymous Being might well be trying to send us mud-caked mortals a message of some kind.

(In the name of fairness, I should point out that Bachmann has since claimed she was "joking".  The transcript makes that immensely difficult to believe, and Pat "Every gay kiss gives Jesus acid reflux" Robertson certainly isn't backing down, but I wanted to Bachmann's attempted climb-down anyway).

From what I can gather two such events in such a short space of time is at least somewhat unusual, if not anomalous.  Indeed, natural disasters have been on the rise lately.  Scientists wonder aloud about the chances of this being an effect of climate change, whereas the standard wingnut hypothesis is that its probably something to do with gays (seriously, type "Hurricane Katrina gays" into Google and marvel at all the malicious crazy).  This might be the first time such events have been publicly blamed on fiscal policy rather than a moral standpoint, but these ideas have been floating around for a while now.

Ungar's response - basically, "If this is mankind's phone-ringing, how are we supposed to know what the caller wants?" - is, of course, entirely reasonable, but take on this is a little different. Let's assume for the sake of argument that these natural disasters are the will of God, because for some reason or other He's annoyed at the United States.

It that's true, then, if God really is sufficient pissed off at the United States that he's prepared to throw hurricanes at it in the hope it'll buck its ideas up, why has he waited until now?

If failing to consider a balanced budget amendment is a big enough deal for God to start throwing his weight around, then what was stopping him torching the place during the civil war?  During decade after decade of slavery?  Whilst nation after nation of Native Americans were systematically displaced or slaughtered.

This is supposed to be the stuff that makes God lose his shit?  Please.

Of course, maybe this all makes sense in the heads of Bachmann, Robertson et al.  Maybe they really do think that God preferred the US as a nation built and maintained through slave labour to one where politicians are prepared to consider the upside to large deficits.

Sounds like a question that needs to be asked, no?

Friday Theology

I see Richard Dawkins is back with a new book.  I don't know why he bothers; the conclusive proof of the absence of  Divine Being has already been provided for us, and by God's an uncaring, unordered world's humble pigeon, no less.

(And season 2 arrives soon, too.  Bonus!)

Exactly What It Doesn't Say On The Tin

 Via Balloon Juice and PZ Myers, I came across this article earlier. The boundless capacity of conservative/libertarian Americans for projection and self delusion never fails to amuse me.  How in the name of all that's holy (by which I mean science, bitches!) can a website that allows its writers to argue that Darwinists are being inconstant in not believing that the human race can evolve its way clear of global warming possibly have the balls to call itself Reason?

Something like 99.9% of all species that have ever existed are extinct, because they weren't able to adapt in time to a changing world.  The last major extinction event took out over half the genera on Earth at the time, and what ultimately came out of it looked very much different to what went in [1].  If Harsanyi likes the look of the odds, that's his prerogative, but you'd think he'd keep his mouth shut regarding how anyone else is judging the situation.



"Don't worry, lads!  Evolution says
we're FUCKING INVINCIBLE!"

Also, while we're on the subject, let's try to remember what a skeptic is. A skeptic, in a philosophical sense is someone who either requires significant direct evidence before willing to accept something, or actually believes some things simply cannot be sufficiently determined.  Someone like Rick Perry, who will immediately accept as true any "evidence" at all that supports his view, is not a skeptic.  Whilst I think "I'm not convinced by the current evidence" is generally frequently synonymous with "I haven't really looked at the current evidence", that's not invariably true, and as a scientist (even a mathematician), I can't possibly object to the idea of skepticism.

Rick Perry believes that climate scientists are engaged in an international conspiracy to trick the governments of the world to pay them to stop an imaginary threat.  I can think of a lot of words one could use to describe a brain that considers that a plausible scenario, but "skeptical" would never be one.

[1] Note that I'm not arguing that global warming will get so serious that it qualifies as a major, or even lesser, extinction event - that's something far outside my area of expertise.  I'm just pointing out that suggesting a belief in evolution should lead people to conclude humanity will be OK is completely ridiculous.