You have a way with words, Scheherazade.

You have a way with words, Scheherazade.

Friday, February 17, 2012

St. Petersburg Paradox: Daniel Bernoulli





Suppose you are offered the chance to play the following game. A fair coin will be tossed until a head appears. If a head occurs for the first time on the n^th toss then you will be paid 2 n dollars. How much would you be willing to pay to play this game?

Thursday, February 16, 2012

Charles Lutwidge Dodgson makes MY head hurt


migraine aura phenomenon? Maybe, but if you were that smart your head would hurt too ;)

(Humbly admitted) so much math the Wikipedia page on this poem made my head hurt:



What the Tortoise Said to Achilles

Lewis Carroll 


Achilles had overtaken the Tortoise, and had seated himself comfortably on its back.
"So you've got to the end of our race-course?" said the Tortoise. "Even though it does consist of an infinite series of distances? I thought some wiseacre or other had proved that the thing couldn't be done?"
"It can be done," said Achilles. "It has been done! Solvitur ambulando. You see the distances were constantly diminishing; and so --"
"But if they had been constantly increasing?" the Tortoise interrupted "How then?"
"Then I shouldn't be here," Achilles modestly replied; "and you would have got several times round the world, by this time!"
"You flatter me -- flatten, I mean" said the Tortoise; "for you are a heavy weight, and no mistake! Well now, would you like to hear of a race-course, that most people fancy they can get to the end of in two or three steps, while it really consists of an infinite number of distances, each one longer than the previous one?"
"Very much indeed!" said the Grecian warrior, as he drew from his helmet (few Grecian warriors possessed pockets in those days) an enormous note-book and a pencil. "Proceed! And speak slowly, please! Shorthand isn't invented yet!"
"That beautiful First Proposition of Euclid!" the Tortoise murmured dreamily. "You admire Euclid?"
"Passionately! So far, at least, as one can admire a treatise that won't he published for some centuries to come!"
"Well, now, let's take a little bit of the argument in that First Proposition -- just two steps, and the conclusion drawn from them. Kindly enter them in your notebook. And in order to refer to them conveniently, let's call them A, B, and Z: --
(A) Things that are equal to the same are equal to each other.
(B) The two sides of this Triangle are things that are equal to the same.
(Z) The two sides of this Triangle are equal to each other.
Readers of Euclid will grant, I suppose, that Z follows logically from A and B, so that any one who accepts A and B as true, must accept Z as true?"
"Undoubtedly! The youngest child in a High School -- as soon as High Schools are invented, which will not be till some two thousand years later -- will grant that."
"And if some reader had not yet accepted A and B as true, he might still accept the sequence as a valid one, I suppose?"
"No doubt such a reader might exist. He might say 'I accept as true the Hypothetical Proposition that, if A and B be true, Z must be true; but, I don't accept A and B as true.' Such a reader would do wisely in abandoning Euclid, and taking to football."
"And might there not also he some reader who would say 'I accept A and B as true, but I don't accept the Hypothetical '?"
"Certainly there might. He, also, had better take to football."
"And neither of these readers," the Tortoise continued, "is as yet under any logical necessity to accept Z as true?"
"Quite so," Achilles assented.
"Well, now, I want you to consider me as a reader of the second kind, and to force me, logically, to accept Z as true."
"A tortoise playing football would be -- " Achilles was beginning
"-- an anomaly, of course," the Tortoise hastily interrupted. "Don't wander from the point. Let's have Z first, and football afterwards!"
"I'm to force you to accept Z, am I?" Achilles said musingly. "And your present position is that you accept A and B, but you don't accept the Hypothetical --"
"Let's call it C," said the Tortoise.
"-- but you don't accept
(C) If A and B are true, Z must be true. "
"That is my present position," said the Tortoise.
"Then I must ask you to accept C."
"I'll do so," said the Tortoise, "as soon as you've entered it in that note-book of yours. What else have you got in it?"
"Only a few memoranda," said Achilles, nervously fluttering the leaves: "a few memoranda of -- of the battles in which I have distinguished myself!"
"Plenty of blank leaves, I see!" the Tortoise cheerily remarked. "We shall need them all!" (Achilles shuddered.) "Now write as I dictate: --
(A) Things that arc equal to the same are equal to each other.
(B) The two sides of this Triangle are things that are equal to the same.
(C) If A and B are true, Z must be true.
(Z) The two sides of this Triangle are equal to each other."
"You should call it D, not Z," said Achilles. "It comes next to the other three. If you accept A and B and C, you must accept Z."
"And why must I?"
"Because it follows logically from them. If A and B and C are true, Z must be true. You don't dispute that, I imagine?"
"If A and B and C are true, Z must he true," the Tortoise thoughtfully repeated. "That's another Hypothetical, isn't it? And, if I failed to see its truth, I might accept A and B and C', and still not accept Z. mightn't I?"
"You might," the candid hero admitted; "though such obtuseness would certainly be phenomenal. Still, the event is possible. So I must ask you to grant one more Hypothetical."
"Very good. I'm quite willing to grant it, as soon as you've written it down. We will call it
(D) If A and B and C are true, Z must be true.
"Have you entered that in your notebook?"
"I have!" Achilles joyfully exclaimed, as he ran the pencil into its sheath. "And at last we've got to the end of this ideal race-course! Now that you accept A and B and C and D, of course you accept Z."
"Do I?" said the Tortoise innocently. "Let's make that quite clear. I accept A and B and C and D. Suppose I still refused to accept Z?"
"Then Logic would force you to do it!" Achilles triumphantly replied. "Logic would tell you 'You can't help yourself. Now that you've accepted A and B and C and D, you must accept Z!' So you've no choice, you see."
"Whatever Logic is good enough to tell me is worth writing down," said the Tortoise. "So enter it in your book, please. We will call it
(E) If A and B and C and D are true, Z must be true. Until I've granted that, of course I needn't grant Z. So it's quite a necessary step, you see?"
"I see," said Achilles; and there was a touch of sadness in his tone.
Here narrator, having pressing business at the Bank, was obliged to leave the happy pair, and did not again pass the spot until some months afterwards. When he did so, Achilles was still seated on the back of the much-enduring Tortoise, and was writing in his note-book, which appeared to be nearly full. The Tortoise was saying, "Have you got that last step written down? Unless I've lost count, that makes a thousand and one. There are several millions more to come. And would you mind, as a personal favour, considering what a lot of instruction this colloquy of ours will provide for the Logicians of the Nineteenth Century -- would you mind adopting a pun that my cousin the Mock-Turtle will then make, and allowing yourself to be re-named Taught-Us?"
"As you please!" replied the weary warrior, in the hollow tones of despair, as he buried his face in his hands. "Provided that you, for your part, will adopt a pun the Mock-Turtle never made, and allow yourself to be re-named A Kill-Ease!"





Hannah Arendt: Sighted

A text I sent this evening: "PS the only fabrication I was referring to was 'owning the world' -- I really am going back to over-the-head headphones and I did sign up for fencing lessons...for the record."  (I am a slave to accuracy.) 

After which followed...a new find:

A quote from this evening's internet hopscotching/reading/learning/knowledge-seeking escapades: “Action, as distinguished from fabrication, is never possible in isolation; to be isolated is to be deprived of the capacity to act.” - Hannah Arendt

Bow to your opponent.  ;) << Let the games begin >>

Thursday, February 9, 2012

The Dictionary of Obscure Sorrows

Somehow landed upon this website in my internet hopscotch of the day: http://www.imrevolting.net/?m=201006&paged=4

Oh yes, in looking up Ivan Albright

Meanwhile, I have found many gems stationed at said location, including: http://www.dictionaryofobscuresorrows.com/  : Love it. :)

Sunday, February 5, 2012

Leo Burnett - "When to take my name off the door"

December 1, 1967.




"Somewhere along the line, after I’m finally off the premises, you – or your successors – may want to take my name off the premises, too.


You may want to call yourselves " Twain, Rogers, Sawyer and Finn, Inc."….. or "Ajax Advertising" or something.


That will certainly be OK with me – if it’s good for you.


But let me tell you when I might demand that you take my name off the door.


That will be the day when you spend more time trying to make money and less time making advertising – our kind of advertising.


When you forget that the sheer fun of ad making and the lift you get out of it – the creative climate of the place – should be as important as money to the very special breed of writers and artists and business professionals who compose this company of ours – and make it tick.


When you lose that restless feeling that nothing you do is ever quite good enough.


When you lose your itch to the job well for it’s sake – regardless of the client, or money, or the effort it takes.


When you lose your passion for thoroughness…you hatred of loose ends.


When you stop reaching the manner, the overtones, the marriage of words and pictures that produce the fresh, the memorable and the believable effect.


When you stop rededicating yourselves every day to the idea that better advertising is what the Leo Burnett Company is about.


When you are no longer what Thoreau called "a corporation with a conscience" – which means to me, a corporation of conscientious men and women.


When you begin to compromise your integrity – which has always been the heart’s blood – the very guts of this agency.


When you stoop to convenient expediency and rationalize yourselves into acts of opportunism – for the sake of a fast buck.


When you show the slightest sign of crudeness, inappropriateness or smart –aleckness – and you lose that subtle sense of the fitness of things.


When your main interest becomes a matter of size just to be big - rather that good, hard, wonderful work.


When your outlook narrows down to the number of windows – from zero to five – in the walls of your office.


When you lose your humility and become big-short wisenheimers…. a little bit too big for your boots.


When the apples come down to being just apples for eating (or for polishing) – no longer part of our tone or personality.


When you disprove of something, and start tearing the hell out of the man who did it rather than the work itself.


When you stop building on strong and vital ideas, and start a routine production line.


When you start believing that, in the interest of efficiency, a creative spirit and the urge to create can be delegated and administrated, and forget that they can only be nurtured, stimulated, and inspired.


When you start giving lip service to this being a "creative agency" and stop really being one.


Finally, when you lose your respect for the lonely man – the man at his typewriter or his drawing board or behind his camera or just scribbling notes with one of our big pencils – or working all night on a media plan. When you forget that the lonely man – and thank God for him – has made the agency we now have – possible. When you forget he’s the man who, because he is reaching harder, sometimes actually gets hold of for a moment - one of those hot, unreachable stars.


THAT, boys and girls, is when I shall insist you take my name off the door. And by golly, it will be taken off the door. Even if have to materialize long enough some night to rub it out myself - on every one of our floors. And before I DE-materialize again, I will paint out that star-reaching symbol too. And burn all the stationary. Perhaps tear up a few ads in passing.


And throw every god-damned apple down the elevator shafts.


You just won’t know the place, the next morning. You’ll have to find another name."

1.e4

Boxes coming Monday, movers called: New York, get your red carpet ready ;)


PS, for reference's sake: http://bit.ly/zeJ4JLhttp://bit.ly/AgWABt