Calculating the Center of the Universe

I watched Interstellar for the fourth time today - hence the geeky title of this post! It is definitely my favorite movie of all time, simply because it makes me think.


What are we doing here, on this tiny little planet, scattered amongst a sea of stardust? Why not abandon silly little constructs like currency and wealth and pool our resources to pursue the beauty and adventure that nature has to offer?


Yeah, I know, there are a lot of reasons why that can't happen, but I still wish it was possible. I want to experience another planet - just think of it! Our Earth is so beautiful, but it's one of trillions of planets in our universe. (cue Cooper's line: "this world's a treasure, Donald, but it's been telling us to leave for a while now"). There's so much out there to find if only people were motivated by passion rather than greed.


Anyway, semi-random thought: where is the center of our universe? Where did this supposed "Big Bang" begin? It seems like a discovery of utmost significance, possibly bordering on spirituality, would be waiting there in the place where existence began.


Doing some quick research, I found that scientists really have no clue whether there's a center to the universe. In fact, many think there isn't one. Apparently, no matter where you are in space, it always looks like the stars are moving away from you. That sounds kind of confusing, but it can be explained (or at least speculated on) by looking at a balloon.


Take any old balloon. With a marker, draw some dots on the surface. Maybe ten or so. As you inflate the balloon, the dots will all move away from each other.


So it's like the surface of that balloon... only in 3D. Hurts my brain.


Just a thought-experiment:


Imagine we could build a machine that could sense all the mass in the universe and accurately map it on a sphere. The readings might look like this:

(most yellow = least mass, most red = most mass)
The "reddest" region is in the direction of the center of the universe.

And if we sent a probe out, say, a light-year or so, we'd have two overlapping readings which might look like:

(Probe's readings + the line from Earth)
With two lines, we have an intersection in 2D space, and a more accurate estimation.

 This process would be repeated with at least two more probes to essentially triangulate the center of the universe in 3D space, the same way your phone can be triangulated with four or more satellites (although I don't have a diagram for that one - my Photoshop skills end here).

Of course, such a machine is undeniably impossible right now - our means of calculating masses and velocities of galaxies are rough and usually "ball-park" estimates. But still... I have these weird thoughts sometimes... That's what watching sci-fi does to me - I can't help it. For now, I'll just have to be content with my mother's sarcastic statement: "Drew, everyone knows that the center of the universe is YOU." Yeaahhh... thanks mom, I guess.

Committment and Co-Authoring

I am famous for not following through with the millions of projects that I start (as you can probably tell by the fact that I haven’t posted in so long). It is not something I am proud of, but rather something I have been working on fixing.

One of the most frustrating experiences I can imagine is trying to write a book. Fun, yes – exhilarating at times. But often frustrating. The reason is that writing a book represents a huge commitment. Authors have to push through each and every chapter no matter how good their writing is, because if it is not complete, it won’t sell. A story without an ending is not a story.

All but a couple of my stories do not have endings. They start well, they have good parts and bad parts, but they don’t end, they just fade away. As I read my old material, I can see myself behind the words, growing more and more exhausted, getting bored of a great story.

In the past, I haven’t tried to find a solution to the problem, I have simply kept writing half-stories. Recently, though, I learned that a good friend of mine is also a writer, and so we both decided to do something a little different. We decided to co-author a novel. It has been a huge help. Now I’m tied to the story, I have made a commitment, and not just one to myself.

 

(Check out my awesome cover :D) 

 

That being said, not everything is hunky-dory. Putting two teens together and telling them to write a complete, intricate, and believable story (which involves agreeing on everything - literally!) is not an easy task. It is more like a psychological lab experiment. For the most part, we have kept the peace, but there have been disagreements here and there that divide us. And DIVISION IS NOT GOOD. I am constantly paranoid that she will lose interest or disagree with one of my ideas so fundamentally that she refuses to help anymore. She is my lifeline for this project – a lifeline with its own will and opinions and ego. The same thing goes for me. Sometimes I don’t even trust myself to do my fair share (but maybe that’s a good thing – it persuades me to work more and to have better ideas).

The point is, writing a book is already a complex process. Throwing feelings and chemistry and communication into the mix brings it to a whole new level of difficulty. If your biggest struggle as a writer is perseverance, you may benefit from partnering up; however, if you have a hard time keeping your temper under control or you have an ego thing where you only like your own ideas (I wouldn’t blame you), then maybe your best option is to walk the path alone.

 

QUESTION: What do you think about co-authoring? Would you ever try it?

Penny Prompt - Something Ugly

Here's another penny-prompt that I did last weekend:

 

 

2) Write about something ugly–war, fear, hate, or cruelty

Johnson swung the barrel of his rifle around in a complete circle, taking in the vast ruined city. ETA of his rescue-chopper was thirty minutes and counting. The air was ghostly quiet.

Might as well do a sweep.

One devastated building blanketed in ivy drew his attention, partially because of the enormous letters painted beneath the ropy vines. He squinted, trying to make out the faded characters.

“ST. MATHESON’S RE----- -OME FOR CHILDREN”

“Refuge home…” he mouthed, intrigued. It looked like it come from an aged fairy-tale. Old brick, faded colors that could’ve been happy – plus, fairy-tales always had orphanages. We drove these kids out. Guilt struck deep beneath his armor as he thought of his own child, only three years old, back home.

He stepped up to a hole in the brick wall and peered in. It was dark and covered in rubble, but he could see light further down the hallway. Probably a battery-powered emergency light. Most public buildings had them.

Despite the fact that nobody was supposed to be there, Johnson couldn’t help but step lightly as he entered the building. It felt haunted, like the ghosts of all his victims had converged on this one spot. A sickening idea struck him: what if there are bodies here? Childrens’ bodies? Now that it occurred to him, it was probably true. Everybody had been taken by surprise when his team swept through, not just the militia. Even the friendlies, even the ones who weren’t supposed to get involved.

On second thought, maybe he ought to go and wait out in the open.

Johnson turned and stepped back into the sunlight. Today wasn’t the day for violence. There would be other opportunities to forage through the tangled, mystical ruins on supply-runs with his team. Natives from the neighboring town would come in and remove the dead. Maybe then they could –

Johnson’s ears perked up. He thought he heard… no, it can't be…

He listened closer.

The sound came again.

“Oh my God!” he shouted, ripping his radio out and pressing the button. “Where are you, Mariel?”

Static. “Captain, are you alright? Are the hostiles back?”    

“The hell they are! I’ve got a survivor on –"

“What are you saying? Calm down! Nobody survived that attack, sir, everyone’s gone – ”

“Don’t talk to me!” He screamed. “I hear it right now! Somebody is crying, I can hear it! Get a medic, now!” He dropped the radio and brought his rifle up to ready position. His own heartbeat was knocking the air out of his lungs. Looks like it’s into the dark, after all.

Muffled static. Finger on trigger.

Muscles tensed, like a prowling cat, Johnson tried to maintain composure. Nobody’s supposed to be alive. Nobody is alive. He proceeded quietly into the darkness, chanting the words over and over in his head.

The sound grew more and more distinct as he advanced through the black hallways. Just a friendly, he began to think, no longer able to accept that he was hallucinating. The crying was too loud, too clear. He kept his eyes forward, ignoring the eerie, peeling wallpaper decorated with flowers and clouds.

There was a shadowy doorway just up ahead. That’s where the sound was coming from, he could tell by the way it echoed. With his lips, he formed the words, “who’s there?” but no sound came out. Fear had caught him by the throat.

SCHHH! “Captain?”

Johnson yelped and pulled the trigger. A deafening bang cut him straight to the bone, and somewhere in front of him, rubble was knocked loose. Johnson disconnected his radio and brought his gun straight back up, panting heavily.

Damn it, damn it, damn it, please, Lord, help me…

There was a moment when he couldn’t hear because his ears were ringing, but then the noise subsided and all that was left was a soft crying. Exactly as before. It hadn’t changed at all. It was a quiet, weak voice, and… somewhat familiar.

Fear turned to terror. Icy terror.

“Oli?” he called out, voice trembling. “My s- oh, God, my son?”

The crying stopped abruptly. Like it had been waiting all along.  

Penny Prompt - Finding Gold

I've never been much a fan of one-line prompts. They always seem too constricting, too boring, too sappy. But today, after a long while just staring at my computer screen with a blank expression, drool running down my chin, I decided to look into them. And, while my opinion of one-line prompts hasn't changed, I've found at least one benefit to using them in my day-to-day writing.

They are absolutely inexhaustible. Yes, indeed, I will never have to wonder. I could write my whole life and never finish with all the ones on the internet.

And that is why I have elected to call them penny-prompts.

 

1) You’re digging in your garden and find a fist-sized nugget of gold

 

I had a smile on my face the whole day. It was time. Finally, it was time.

 

After twenty whole years, I circled around the ruined house and into the backyard, carrying a shovel from the truck. There was the same muddy lump in the corner, only now it was covered in grass and dandelions. Nature had offered its own respects to the shrine of my childhood.

 

I began to dig, without hesitation. Normally, such an occasion would require a moment of silence, but this felt different. This was me. I wasn’t doing this for anyone else. Little Me was still down there, the curious, wild ten-year-old who dressed up like a pirate for school. He needed the new me, the old me. He needed my advice more than anything.

 

The sun grew hotter with each shovel-full of dirt. Finally I struck something hard – like a pirate, looking for treasure. Brushing away a thin layer, a rotting piece of wood came into view, littered with holes and worms.

 

Blood pounded in my temples. Hey, little guy.

 

With the shovel, I worked around the piece of wood until I had carved out an entire box. Then, with a grunt, I lugged it up and out of the hole.

 

Geez, how did I lift this thing?

 

The padlock on my old treasure chest was still there, but it was easy enough to break away from the wood. My breath caught as it fell onto the grass.

 

I am about to go back in time twenty years. Three, two, one…

 

The lid swung open. So did my mouth.  

 

“What in the…”

 

The little pirate inside me had a heart attack. Neither of us had ever seen so much real gold in our lives.

The Book Blogger TMI Tag

A fellow blogger suggested I fill out a pass-along questionnaire. She also happens to be my only (current) reader, to the extent of my knowledge. So thank you, Magic Violinist! This will be good practice.

How old are you?

I am sixteen, going on seventeen…

What book are you reading?

Angels & Demons, by Dan Brown. Highly recommended.

What are you wearing?

I can’t tell. It’s too dark and I’m not motivated to get up and move.

OTP? (One True Pairing – favorite fictional relationship)

Sherlock Holmes and John Watson in the BBC series. Priceless (but probably not romantic).

Blogger or Wordpress?

Let’s see… out of the one I’ve used, I would say… the one I’ve used!

Going outside being active or staying in and reading a book?

What’s "outside"?

What is the last book you read?

The Da Vinci Code, by Dan Brown.

What is the book you’re going to read next?

The sequel to The Da Vinci Code, presumably by Dan Brown.

eBooks – yes or no?

That depends. If it’s on an e-ink reader, then yes. No eye-strain and a Chuck Norris battery (I recommend it for your next intergalactic vacation). Otherwise, my eyes just end up throbbing, and that’s no fun.

Where do you prefer to read?

A masculine variation of this would be awesome:

 

Because, you know, it’s important to preserve one’s dignity while reading about vampires… and headboards…

Who is the last person you tweeted?

Well…

Who’s blog did you look at last?

Yours, my only (current) reader!

Who is your favorite Blogger?

I don’t follow many blogs, but I do have a few that I check up on, including DeeJ’s, Andy Dudynsky’s, and that one dude who’s been popular on Facebook lately… is it Matt Walsh?

Who is your favorite booktuber?

Gesundheit!

What do you do when someone tells you reading is boring?

Who is the last author you spoke to?

Brandon Mull, author of the Fablehaven series, Candy Shop War series, and Beyonders series. Whaddayaknow? He’s Mormon too!

Who is the last person you texted?

I faintly remember texting at one point in my life…

Who is your all-time favorite book character?

Probably Ender, from Ender’s Game (see last post). Other than that, I love Severus Snape, Dumbledore, and Robert Langdon. Oh, and Emma Watson – uh, I mean, Hermione… 

UKYA or USYA?

Assuming that “YA” is “Young Adult” and that we are referencing genres, not people, I would have to say USYA. If you’re talking TV, though, definitely UK.

What is your preferred drink whilst reading?

H2O. It slows the progress of the inevitable headache.

If you hated reading, what would you be doing instead?

Programming some rad text-based games, or possibly talking to other human beings.

How many bookshelves/bookcases do you have?

Oh, how I wish I had shelves! How I wish they lined the walls and piled on the floor and hung from the ceiling!

Right now: 0 shelves, 2 crates, 2038495720345345873 piles.

In my future home: A library.

If you had the choice to meet all of your favorite book bloggers or all of your favorite authors, which would you pick? You can only pick one.

Authors, without a doubt.

Insta-love: yes or no?

Nah, too shallow, at least at first. Of course, one thing that I’ve learned is that there are always exceptions. To EVERYTHING. Except gravity. Don’t count on being the exception to gravity.

Favorite author?

Ooh… It’s a three-way tie between J.K. Rowling, Orson Scott Card, and Dan Brown.

Rowling for fantasy, Card for sci-fi, and Brown for brain-boggling weirdness.

What is the number-one book on your wishlist?

Right now? Probably World War Z. I’ve heard that’s a good one.

Do you prefer books with female or male protagonists?

That ain’t what it’s about. I love any book that grabs me by the spinal column and dunks me in a pool of emotion.

Which is your favorite book-to-film adaption?

The Harry Potter movies. And there’s probably others that I can’t remember off the top of my head.

What is the last song you listened to?

“If you’re happy and you know it, clap your hands” *clap, clap*

Which do you enjoy reading more – negative reviews or positive reviews?

Whatever these are: http://slightlyviral.com/beware-sugarless-gummy-bears-on-amazon-com/

Who are you going to tag?

Ummm… *cricket chirps*

My imaginary friend.

Ender's Game - A Review

 

It seems appropriate that my first real post be a review of my favorite book.

Ender's Game. How did you know?

This year, there was a new movie BASED on the book. I capitalize “based” because it really, really, failed to capture the imagination of the story. You see children being swept away to a school in the sky, a school where they are trained to be soldiers. They are preparing to combat an insectoid, hive-minded alien race called the Buggers.

From the outside, a pretty typical sci-fi.

The book offers a much more personal account from right inside the main character's head, where it’s most interesting. Andrew Wiggin. Also called Ender. He’s a boy-genius with an emphasis in strategy and social manipulation, but he also possesses something that many of his peers lack: a strong moral compass. Throughout the novel, he struggles to live up to his potential, but also to stay faithful to his morals within a system that is, by nature, cutthroat and unforgiving.

One of the main plot devices is the Battle Room, which is a unique concept that Orson Scott Card, the author, developed while imagining how one would train for zero-gravity combat. The team rankings and individual statistics each player earns during the mock war are the core of Battle School, and so they occupy a large portion of the book. The thing is, the physical play-space is always changing, so it never gets old to watch and feel through Ender’s strategic perspective.

A personal favorite quote of mine:

“In the moment when I truly understand my enemy, understand him well enough to defeat him, then in that very moment I also love him. I think it’s impossible to really understand somebody, what they want, what they believe, and not love them the way they love themselves. And then, in that very moment when I love them.... I destroy them.” – Ender

Ender’s older brother, Peter, is also a genius, but he was rejected from Battle School because of his inborn cruelty, which Card gives us a glimpse of pretty early on. He tells Ender to play “buggers and astronauts,” but is really just looking for an excuse to beat him up. Not even forest animals are safe – Peter has a disturbing habit of capturing and impaling squirrels on sticks.

Ender frequently compares himself to his brother and even cries when he matches up too well. It really gives you a sense of how profoundly sensitive he is, a nice contrast to the cold-killer-face he puts on in order to fulfill his duties as a soldier.

The whole story is a wonderful blend of emotion, adventure, and philosophy. If you haven’t read it yet and are into science-fiction…

Read it. There’s really no excuse not to.

Oh, and just a side-note. I haven’t read a lot about Orson Scott Card, but people tell me he’s got some whacked-out politics. DON’T LET THAT STOP YOU. I promise – there’s not any evidence of that in his books (at least the ones I’ve read).

Besides, good lit is good lit, right?

Just a Start

So, I've been suckered into joining the Blogger community. Hope you like me.

It's nice here - there are plenty of buttons and widgets to mess around with, a nice (and slightly confusing) dashboard. It could use a little simplicity - but hey, I'll get the hang of it.

Anyway, on to the important stuff. The why of this blog. Why the heck am I doing this when I could be re-reading Ender's Game? Why do I have a sudden urge to create an account on the site that is so commonly associated with motherhood?

Actually, introducing myself would probably be a more appropriate start, considering you know nothing about me.

My name is Drew. I'm sixteen. Love to write, read, program computers, wear taped glasses, comb my hair over, and get pushed around by jocks.

Okay, fine, the last few are exaggerated. Okay maybe they're not true at all.

But I am most definitely,

positively,

undeniably,

a geek. A proud, flag-raising geek. With glasses.

Here's a picture, just so you have a better idea:

yeah...



I don't pretend to know what my future holds. That would defeat the purpose. I look forward to the adventure that life tends to throw at people, and feel ready to "hardcore-parcour" over any roadblocks in my path.

That being said, if you're here to read about my many high-school adventures, you should probably find another blog. When I do write about the flow of daily life, it will either be because I'm trying to prove a point or because it leads nicely into a completely separate topic.

My focus is on thought. Hence the title of this blog. I take interest in social dynamic and in the nuts and bolts of our world. I love philosophy, contemplating the nature of life, the universe and everything (haven't quite arrived at 42 yet). The things that catch my attention are not what people say, but how they say it and why.

Also, being a writer, I will probably discuss concepts relating to authorship. Just ignore them if they don't satisfy your reader's appetite. No biggie.

And that's all, really. I like to keep things concise when I can. So be off on your merry way, and keep this blog in mind if you're ever hungry. There will be plenty of brain-food to go around.