Apparently, every once in a Gallifreyen [insert long time span here], the Universe becomes so full of chaos that it must be rebalanced.
Is it possible that the Universe is once again filled with unbearable chaos? Or is it that Russell T. Davies has simply lost his Muse?
To read more, follow THIS link to my David Tennant/Doctor Who News Page.
I am the last child born to my mother.
I am her seventh child.
My mother was also born in the position of seventh child.
As I understand it, this makes me the seventh daughter of a seventh daughter.
Apparently, this is somewhat rare; and one might conjecture that families with numerous children are possibly becoming extinct in North America and certain other parts of the world, and thus it is likely that being born a seventh child of a seventh child is, indeed, a bit rare. A dying breed, as it were.
In Celtic mythology that birth order conferred magical powers, and there are many other ancient superstitions that say the seventh born of the seventh born will become a witch, or high priestess, (if female) and healer (if male.) There are even some South American superstitions that say these unfortunate children will become vampires and werewolves. If you believe in that sort of thing…
In addition to being born seventh daughter of a seventh daughter, I was also born under what is known as the Seventh Moon. This is an ancient way of referring to the month of August and is more common in lunar calendars, such as that used by the Chinese.
In some parts of the world, August is an interesting month. Otherwise, it is generally not thought of as particularly festive considering there are no holidays celebrated during the month.
There is a Chinese festival called Night of Sevens. In 2008 it took place on 7 August, this year it will be on the 26 August. Even with that wide variation in the date, it’s still considered to be the seventh night of the seventh month. Similarly, in old Japan, each year, on the seventh night of the seventh moon, the people celebrated the festival of Tanabata-Sama, the Weaving Lady of the Milky Way. It would be way cool if that were my birthday.
Another festival is called Ghost Festival, and it falls on the fifteenth day of the seventh lunar month. In 2008, a rather scary-looking horror flick was released in honour of the Ghost Festival, called Seventh Moon.
The Perseid Meteor Showers occur during the end of July to late August and are at their brightest and most prolific from August 8th and 12th.
I was born on the eighth. My numerology number is also eight; again, if you believe in that sort of thing… (and in nuclear physics, eight is the second of seven “magic numbers”).
There are seven Gregorian months with the length of 31 days. August is one of those seven.
A heptagram or septegram is a seven-pointed star drawn with seven straight strokes and is frequently features in religious/occult symbolism.
Here are some more factoids about the supposed “lucky” number seven:
Seven is the fourth prime number. It is not only a Mersenne prime, but also a double Mersenne prime since it is itself the exponent for another Mersenne prime (127). It is also a Newman-Shanks-Williams prime, a Woodall prime, a factorial prime, a lucky prime, a happy number and a safe prime. (Note that it has seven prime classifications.)
There are seven spots on a common ladybug
Seven days of the week
Seven holes in the heads of most mammals
Nearly all mammals’ necks have seven bones
Seven types of virus
Seven daughters of Atlas in the Pleiades (also called the “Seven Sisters” as depicted in the photo above)
Seven hills of Rome
Seven Liberal Arts
Seven Sages
Seven Wonders of the ancient world
There are numerous references in various religions to the number seven. Here are seven:
-Seven days of Creation
-The Seven last words of Jesus on the cross
-Seven churches, seven stars, seven seals, seven last plagues, seven vials, seven thunders in the Revelation, the last book of the Bible
-The Seven Virtues
-The Seven deadly sins
-There are seven Chakras
-The Seven Valleys (Love, Knowledge, Unity, Contentment, Wonderment, True Poverty and Absolute Nothingness)
There were seven islands in mythological Atlantis
Seven Lucky Gods in Japanese mythology
The seventh glyph of the Mayan Calendar is the Blue Hand, it represents the days in creation and is associated with creative perfection. This is the glyph of the last day of their calendar that ends on December 21 2012.
Seven ad naseum….
It’s Friday night. Normally I would be doing a certain Particular Thing on a Friday night, but things change (as things should) and tonight I won’t be doing that Particular Thing – which shall remain identyless throughout the course of this ramble. I have several very valid reasons for not doing that Particular Thing, none of which are happy and nor shall I explain them to you, my good reader. I know you won’t take offense either. Sometimes the less ya know, the better, right? Rather mafia-ish isn’t it? Anyway, as such, being completely free from doing that Particular Thing (by choice, mind you) I realise that suddenly I’m thingless and thus need a thing to replace that Particular Thing.
Else, I shall enter into the dark realm of capital boredom; not a place I care to go. (Shudders) Boredom can only seem to exist in a state of complete nothingness and that, my friend, is terror beyond terror.
To keep my post from reiterating the very well written words upon another Blog posted by mia familia, who coincidentally suffers similarly as I, there will be no pondering aloud the variety of options I have available to me with which to replace my Particular Thing . Surely, it’s obvious to you at this point what thing I chose to replace my usual thing? I thought so.
But wait! Alas, this thing I’ve chosen to replace that Particular and usual Thing won’t last deep into the night as my Particular Thing normally would, or at least it had better not. That would result in a Class One violation of the American Blogging Ordinance Section 2.8.04 subsection (a) and could consequently result in the revocation of my blogging license. Can’t have that, now can we? Even if I were to accept a certain offer of utilising a certain person as my topic de jour (or possibly tema di argomento) it still would not be that long. Tempting, but no. Mi perdoni il mio amico.
While pondering my peculiar state of Thinglessness, I should warn you to not confuse my Thinglessness with Existential Nothingness or Absolute Nonexistence.
In Quantum theory, Randomness, Thinglessness and Inseparability (interconnectedness) characterise Quantum systems. Coincidentally, these three features were precisely the features that Albert Einstein, one of quantum theory’s founding fathers, found so bizarre that he could not accept them. The Nothingness Theory distinguishes the differences between relative nonexistence (nothingness) and absolute nonexistence. Nothingness is a state of perfectly uniform static equilibrium constituting relative nonexistence. It exists relative to absolute nonexistence but does not exist relative to temporal existence. Absolute nonexistence is the absence of existence, the absence of nothingness, and the absence of absence. It is what is not being referred-to under any circumstances. Its definition is that which cannot be referred-to, named, or defined. It is the non-state to which everything including nothingness is attracted.
In my opinion, Absolute Nonexistence is a paradox…
Quantum Thinglessness describes the peculiar status of an unobserved quantum system: such systems consist of context-dependent possibilities, not fixed actualities. The profoundly ambiguous state of an isolated quantum system must correspond to the way in which conscious beings perceive themselves and the external world. The objective thinglessness of quantum systems implies the subjective thinglessness of elemental minds.
Quantum Randomness is not random at all but represents the opportunity for the exertion of free choice by some mindful being (other than ourselves presumably). Quantum Interconnectedness seems to be even less tangible. John Bell’s theorem on Quantum Interconnectedness is that once two particles have interacted they remain connected. There’s a kind of stickiness that connects them together, so they’re bound together forever in the theory. They never separate, even though they’re not interacting anymore.
I have a bit of a problem with Quantum Interconnectedness more so than I do Randomness and Thinglessness. Einstein had difficulty accepting that two objects come together, meet, and then each go into the universe; and they would still be connected by some invisible thread. I can comprehend this on a human relationship level, but I can’t comprehend it on a molecular level. Or, at least, tonight I can’t. Tomorrow is another day. Until next we meet.
You look at it, but it is not to be seen;
Its name is Formless.
You listen to it, but it is not to be heard;
Its name is Soundless.
You grasp it, but it is not to be held;
Its name is Bodiless.
These three elude all scrutiny,
And hence they blend and become one.
Its upper side is not bright;
Its under side is not dimmed.
Continuous, unceasing, and unnameable,
It reverts to nothingness.
It is called formless form, thingless image;
It is called the elusive, the evasive.
Confronting it, you do not see its face;
Following it, you do not see its back.
Yet by holding fast to this Way of old,
You can harness the events of the present,
You can know the beginnings of the past–
Here is the essence of the Way.
Taoism. Tao Te Ching 14
Just kidding.
It isn’t like I forgot I have a blog. I do have a customisable tool bar on my browser that has my WordPress link on it, nestled right between Hotmail and Myspace. Of course, now I notice that the title of said link is too long and needs to be edited. (Goes to edit link…)
I do click on Hotmail at least once per day, so it isn’t like I don’t see WordPress sitting there next to it, whimpering for attention like a puppy who has been waiting for it’s owner to come home from work at long last. There is a clue in that last sentence. Work. My little wee heart leaps with joy because, yes people, I am a working woman. I love working. Working, especially in the present economic climate – a climate which calls to my mind a once giant iceberg floating in a vast ocean with other smaller icebergs orbiting it, and said iceberg now rapidly withering under the harsh glare of global scrutiny and accountability. All those poor orbiting icebergs are melting to near oblivion… Yes indeed, the days of covert unscrupulous money-making hijinks are nearly as extinct as gray wolves. Wait…
Absolutely, I feel blessed to be among those labelled as employed. And to make matters even more joyous, I actually love my job and those I work for and with. How rare is that? When I come home from work, I stop by the door and take off my working woman hat and put on my mommy hat, which looks suspiciously akin to a chef’s hat only with jewels on it like a queen’s crown, and shift into helping with homework mode and feeding the hungry mouths that nip at my ankles like little baby piranhas. I frown while considering why I use so many metaphors.
Hippie Revival
I also get to do fun stuff, like Thursday night I took my almost eight year old daughter shopping so she could dress up for “Hippie Day” at school. Last time it was Nerd Day, to which we rebelled for a variety of good reasons. (See Dots’ post for more information. See sidebar to right if you aren’t familiar with Dots.) Anyway, how fun it turned out to be to choose cool clothing that was more a sixties revival than actually like the real thing. A paint splattered style t-shirt with lots of peace signs and L.O.V.E. spelled out in various places, and peace-sign necklaces and bracelets. How cool is it that this stuff is actually On The Market these days? Groovy, man.
Somewhere near bedtime, the fates decide if I have the inclination to sit at the laptop in my little desk nook. Generally I will log-on and thus look at the choices on my browser toolbar, organised vaguely in priority but mostly not. Being barred from use of my computer at work for any personal activity whatsoever, I know I will have at least one email from mia familia that I will want to read and (depending on the hour) respond to. YES, I do see WordPress sitting there next to Hotmail and YES I know I have a blog, and YES I realise that it’s collecting dust – even my precious David Tennant page has intergalatic cobwebs (they are bigger on the inside you know) and that I have forty thousand emails saved in my David Tennant News folder just waiting for me to get around to them.
YES, I know. I get it.
Such a handy dandy excuse doesn’t apply to Saturday and Sunday does it? Well, so why am I not at least posting every Saturday? (Thinks hard…) Ack, when did this turn into a session with my therapist? Gosh people! What do you want from me? Blood? Ah, now we are getting somewhere! See that’s the thing, isn’t it? You readers aren’t even remotely like those aforementioned piranhas nipping at my ankles crying for food. You readers aren’t dropping me little comments saying “Hey what’s with the Caffe lately? Did the recession cause you to close up shop? We haven’t even had a decent cuppa in the last (frowns, counts, gives up) well, it’s been A.Long.Time.”
I guess subconsciously I know that you guys aren’t missing me all that much. Today, I heard that near-death-now whimpering WordPress link and decided to click on it and see just how desolate things were at Ye Old Caffe. I go first to my stats graph. Don’t you love that thing? It’s power to affect your blogmood is incredible. My chart is either awesome high with a great mountain-like spike or it resembles the stock market. Well, today it’s the latter, sadly. So, ha ha! it’s your fault, not mine! I don’t blog because you don’t care if I do or don’t.
Yeah, I know. Not true and not nice. Sorry.
I did have a million spam comments sitting there with some kind of weird teasing appeal as if to say: hey, come check us out! we might be a real fan of your blog and not XYZSHELKSDIX just dropping by to sell you a link to viagra. Who knew that instead of spam emails selling me this garbage, I’d get spam comments? Here is a clue to you people selling this crap (and working for the mafia is NO excuse) if we really wanted your garbage products you wouldn’t need to SPAM us to get us interested. You’re weird, go away.
Sigh.
I don’t blog …err correction, I haven’t blogged… because, well, for lots of reasons. Now, if you take all those reasons and boil them down, you’d get a really thin tasteless soup called Topicless.
Yes, my fellow bloggers, while you’ve been busy pounding your keyboards and coming up with stacks of interesting dialogue and attention-grabbing posts, I’ve been languishing in the realm of I’m Bored With Myself. Okay? I admit it. Nothing majorly interesting has been brewing at the Caffe. Yeah, yeah, and if you buy that, I have some really awesome dude-enhancing drugs to sell you.
Kidding! I’m actually not entirely topicless. I do have some thoughts rattling around in the cavernous empty space of my head. Not enough to make soup with though.
Like, the weird not-entirely-random door and window rattling anomaly that has affected certain parts of Orange County recently (California for you newbies.) Such that sparked a debate as to whether or not it was sonic boom related even though residents didn’t actually report hearing a boom per se. I’d give you a link to the news report but you’re old enough now to Google all by yourself and you’ll find far more interesting things if you do. And whether or not the boom, which no one heard, was caused by local military installations who swear they weren’t flying supersonic aircraft out over the ocean at the time that the sonic boom wave came on shore at Dana Point and then swept north along the coast line to cause the mysterious and eerie door knob and window rattling …event …thing.
I know what you’re thinking. I’m weird like that. Southern California+Orange County+rattling = earthquake. Normally, I would agree with you. But these eerie events have no seismic activity associated with them at all. Really. It’s true. Check it out yourself.
After a bit of research, I rather wondered if the weird sonic waves have more to do with certain underwater military testing of high-powered sonic weaponry, but after those men came to my door the other day I figured it was best I didn’t mention it here.
Kidding.
No really, you can call off the men in white coats. They were here just yesterday and I swore I’d behave.
Also, I’ve been educating myself the earth’s geomagnetic field and about solar wind. These are amazingly interesting topics, btw. I have been kicking around the idea of blogging about them, so look for that at some point in the near future. Now you know what I do with my weekends when I’m not busy with, um, Other.Vital.Stuff.
I even have a Totally Random File of stuff in my head. Like, what makes me really joyous. Besides working, which I love, it’s that I can read the news now without the headlines being inundated with how octomom has her own octopaparazzi to tell us about every octomove she makes while she comes to octoterms with her giant octomistake of thinking she can take care of octochildren without an octostaff or octohusband. That is so octo-over done I’m uberocto’d out.
Now, I guess we are focusing on Obamanews instead. I’m okay with that I guess. I listen to NPR while navigating my I405 commute, and except during fund-raising days, I thoroughly enjoy listening to news exposés from around the world. No one has yet picked up on that sonic wave anomaly story, but they have thoroughly educated me on the global economic climate and keep me up to date on the intricacies of the bail out. I pity those countries who don’t have news so in-depth as we do, CNN and Foxnews notwithstanding, of course. Hey, I heard they (NPR) will now have a BBC News Hour in the mornings too. I’m looking forward to that.
So, you see dear readers, it isn’t your fault that I’m not posting, it isn’t that I’m too busy, it isn’t that I’m entirely topicless, it’s more to do with priority and organisation and a combination of all those other things. I will endeavor to do better. Maybe.
Earth Hour
A parting note: In a little more than five hours from now, it will be Earth Hour. This is where, from 8:30 p.m to 9:30 p.m., we are meant to shut down everything electrical. Light candles, pour a glass of wine, kick back and enjoy the near-silence of the night. In fact, I can think of at least twenty-five fun things to do during that single dark hour.
Until next we meet, I bid you happy day.
Pancakes
Lent is one of my favourite times of the year. It all begins, traditionally, with Fat Tuesday (or Shrove Tuesday, or Mardi Gras, depending on where you live) followed by Ash Wednesday and then forty days of certain religious traditions leading up to Easter. As well, we traditionally give up an indulgence for those forty days.
I never really celebrated Fat Tuesday, per se, but this year I think I will. After a bit of research, I found that the oldest food-related tradition is eating pancakes (or crepes, again, depending on where you live.) I learned to enjoy the very indulgent crumpet drenched in honey whilst living in Australia. That certainly would suffice as Fat Tuesday Fare. How about both?
I’ll be sure to have the paramedics on standby for when I go into hypoglycemic shock.
The Stuff You Say