I find the mathematical mindset is an excellent one for prompting consideration of other worlds, viewpoints and positions. The great thing about developing mathmodels is that they have to work from experience, but as fractal theory has proven, experience doesn’t have to be completely real. There can be an imaginary part to experience, and it’s probably no coincidence that the thumbprint of God emerged from a complex plane of real and imaginary numbers. I think it’s also significant that making fractals has a lot to do with picking a point, any point, on the complex plane and then testing it against a formula to see if it escapes.
So for instance, I can pick this experience I had on Thursday morning this week that I’ve been fracking busting bucketloads to put into literarily acceptable mindsetted words to no avail and do it in mathematical terms instead. Ok. Here goes…
Let the set of all points that have distance from an observer buckled to the window seat over the west facing wing of a plane projecting a shadow that varies in size relative to the distance of the plane from the upper limits of the set of all observable clouds (as opposed to the distance of the observer who is buckled to the abovementioned point in the plane) at half past sunrise as the pilot of the plane begins the descending function into an airport define the Glory of the Pilot.
Woohooo! I’m away!
Now let me expand on that by elucidating. The Glory of the Pilot that I saw was a halo with all of the colors/colours of the rainbow in it. It’s diameter never changed size, but the shadow of the plane did. The shadow of the plane was growing and shrinking against what I can only call mountains and valleys of fluffy white cloud from the centre of a fixed rainbow coloured halo. I’m calling it mountains and valleys just because I was overhead – so in mathematical terms, I’m only talking about the properties of the upper set of observable cloud. This distinction will prove to be important to me when I’m on the next descending function of a pilot into Sydney.
The mathematical model falls down a bit though when I think about some of the other perspectives:
Like how does the extra leg room that came with my window seat over the wing fit in to the equation? In the unlikely event that I have to pull on the emergency exit handle and step out to the wing, will I fit through the new window? When they gave me the seat, they only asked me if I was willing and prepared.
Like when I told Mum about the whole halo thing she asked me if anyone else saw it! I said I don’t know. Then Mum wondered why the pilot didn’t announce it. I told her it was probably because he was busy with landing the plane.
Like why did they give me the window seat with the extra leg room over the opposite wing from the one I went in with? Was it just so I could see the lights of Sydney coming up from underneath approaching rain on the horizon until such time as we dropped underneath it and I started counting the number of times that the red light on the top of the Sydney Harbour Bridge flashed on and off before it was pausing?
I kept losing count because I couldn’t get over how fracking amazingly lit up every part of the ground was, but if I can go from the counting that was happening in my head I’m sure it was pausing inconsistently.
Like what’s the difference between one stewardess who tells you to put your hand up underneath and pull on the handle only if there’s no fire on the wing or it’s under the water, and the other one who sums it up with ‘only if it’s safe to do so’?
I don’t know, Kathi. But when I read S.B.T. 351, and put it together with ‘Yoko Ono , Sean Lennon on Jimmy Fallon 13 July 2012′, I noticed the equality between the fundamantal interconnectedness of all things and the mathematical set of all points. Then I started wondering how to fit the latest earthquake in Australia’s Victoria near Merlin’s Traralgon and the opening of the new Batman movie into the equation – considering that when the stewardess asked me if I wanted headphones for it I said no thanks and then used the minus button on my armrest to turn off my inflight TV via its programmed brightness control.
Thank you, Kathi. I really wanted this to be a standard comment, but I was told I went over my limit :)