Archive for the ‘The Unknown’ Category

Infinite Ape Simulator

Thursday, November 14th, 2019

I’ve been thinking about the Infinite Monkey Theorem, which postulates that an infinite amount of monkeys banging away on keyboards randomly forever would eventually produce the works of Shakespeare. You can read about this in detail here.

I thought to myself, rather than use dirty monkeys to reproduce Shakespeare (which has been attempted), why not use a machine brain? So I turned to an actual honest-to-goodness computer and wrote a simulation.

My machine was the Commodore 64, and I wrote a simple piece of code to randomly generate three letters in order and test to see if they spelled ‘act’, the first word of Hamlet. I was testing the water, so to speak, instead of diving right into a full reproduction of the entire play.

Now it’s fairly simple statistics to calculate that of the 17576 possible three letter words, only one is ‘act’. But I started by looking for words that started with ‘a’ (ie. of the form a–) of which there are 676, and then words starting with ac-, of which there are 26. I timed my result to see if – as expected – each successively correct letter took approximately 26 times as long to generate as the previous.

Here’s my code alongside one example output looking specifically for ‘act’:

The time is in seconds, and I ran 12 searches each for a– and ac- and 5 (due to the time required) for act. Here are the average times to generate each type of result:

A–: 3 seconds
AC-: 84 seconds
ACT: 2027 seconds

These numbers are close to 26x multiples of each other as expected, and I imagine were I to do enough tests they would converge to that value. From these results we can speculate how long it may take for my C64 to recreate Hamlet…

But first some facts: Hamlet has 132680 letters and 199749 characters in total including spaces and seven punctuation signs. Including these but ignoring case, there are 34 potential candidates for each character and 199749 characters need to be generated. My predictions that follow are based on times equal to 34/26 of those listed above.

The expected (ie. 50% chance) time it would take my C64 to randomly generate Hamlet would be 34^199746 times 1908 seconds which is (approximately) 34^199739 million years. The minimum time is about 1.7 hours ( if it got it right on the first go) and the maximum is of course infinity.

But – given our universe is only less than 14,000 million years old – this means I’m confident in saying my C64 would never randomly generate Hamlet. In fact were I to expand the sim to look for the sequence ‘Act 1’ I would expect the average successful attempt to take about one month. If I extended the sim all the way to the first spoken word – over 100 characters in – I’d expect the Earth would be consumed by the sun before my C64 did it.

Some of you say “that’s just a C64!”, which is primitive compared to the device you’re reading this on. But even if your fancy phone or laptop is a trillion times more powerful, this is nothing compared to a factor of ~10^200k.

It’s pleasant to think of infinite typing apes (or computers) randomly spewing out a work of art, but it would never happen 🙂

(Incidentally and somewhat related; the world is still awaiting the results of B’s testing of this!)

The Ballad Of Dust

Monday, April 29th, 2019

At first I didn’t notice,
Or pretended to ignore.
Yet the more I used the camera,
The more I saw.

A blemish on the image,
A ghostly disc appeared.
What should never happen.
What we all feared.

Something on the lens
Left a shadow signature.
I cleaned and wiped and wiped and cleaned
But still it was in the picture!

The Internet to the rescue:
Force will remove it!
I shook the phone like a maniac
But all I did was
move it!

I gave not up and set to work
Shaking like a fiend.
I shook so much I near passed out
My hand incarnadined.

And then when I came to
An image I did capture…

The photo was clear!
The dust was gone!

And in this home…
Was rapture.

Review: Aquaman

Monday, December 31st, 2018

I went and saw Aquaman yesterday, at an impressively early 9:30 am screening. I momentarily baulked at the ticket price…

But then remembered that the film was going to be awesome and couldn’t throw my cash at the attendant fast enough!

The cinema was crazy big. I dutifully sat in my assigned seat (N-16) and when the projector started I was the only person in there! But then I noticed the first half hour or so were just adverts (including many social engineering PSA’s: exercise more, don’t stay in the sun, start a savings account, etc.) and sure enough the locals knowledgeable about such things shuffled in just before the main show.

Aquaman is about a fish-powered dude that fights a lot and seems to wish he was actually a professional wrestler. I’m not going to spoil the overall plot here but I’ll say it starts off strong and within minutes I was intrigued:

Aquaman’s powers are a cross between Superman and Yoda and are frankly absurd (why is he bulletproof?!?) but you won’t question them because after the crazy start the film quickly evolves into madness and then ascends into bonkers territory.

This was my face during the political scene between the aryan riding the zeuglodon and the Viking riding the dragon:

And then when they introduced a pretty redhead fish girl and the film briefly stopped being about fish and became Indiana Jones meets Jurassic Park I was slackjawed.

This was my face when the murlocs (from World of Warcraft) turned up:

But it wasn’t even close to done! When a futuristic city sequence that makes Blade Runner look like the scribblings of a child was followed by a space battle that featured not one, not 1000, not 1000000, but every fish I was just roaring at the screen with joy:

There’s much to love about the film. Its visuals and design are astonishing, its script unfettered by tradition, its actors unconstrained by expectation and it’s easily got the best depiction of cetacean armies fighting a billion crabs that have ever been printed to celluloid.

It makes you feel every emotion, from love to hate to glee and yes, to terror. It’s unfettered fun, and easily gets my highest recommendation. Best fish war film ever by a mile.

Immediately afterwards I languidly strolled over to the Game Center and found a coin-pusher machine:

I was so full of DC comics appreciation I had to win a card, and quickly targeted this Batman that was right at the edge:

As you can see it was about to drop! So close in fact that a shift of only one atom would have caused it to fall…

…it only cost me $25 to ‘win’ it 🙂

The Tsuchinoko

Wednesday, June 21st, 2017

It’s time for another cryptid post, or in today’s case a ‘UMA’, since that’s what cryptids are called in Japan (it stands for Unidentifed Mystery Animal).

Ladies and gentleman, the Tsuchinoko!

First reported in the 7th century, the tsuchinoko is a snake-like creature about 60 cm in length. Rarely sighted, this creature is said to be native to mainland Japan (Honshu) and is either just an animal or a supernatural creature depending on who you ask.

Tsuchinoko are said to be able to jump, can apparently move very quickly and may even have a poisonous bite. The more unusual attributes of the creature include rolling along with its tail in its mouth, teleportation (in a literal flash of light) and even intelligence! Some say the creature can speak and is very deceptive, often telling lies to obtain its favourite drink: alcohol.

There seems to have been a surge in interest and sightings of these beasts in the last decade or so, elevating it from myth into a full-blown cryptid. Some notable sightings in western Japan lead to well-publicized (but fruitless) searches and in one case even a skeleton (that was a simple snake). In 2008 one district in Japan – possibly as a tourism stunt – offered a $1 million reward for anyone who found one!

As with the flatwoods monster (which I blogged about a few years back), tsuchinoko are quite popular in video games, either appearing by name or as an influence in games including Castlevania, Metal Gear Solid, Pokémon and numerous RPGs. 

So what is this thing? Do they really exist? What could have inspired it?

Take a look at this photo of a skink, which I present in its original form and with the legs edited out:

Looks a bit like our tsuchinoko doesn’t it? It seems likely therefore that the origin of the beast first drawn and described in the Kojiki in the 7th century was just… a skink!

That said, this hardly explains what an old woman in Okayama saw in 2000. The tsuchinoko, she said, had a human-like face and paralyzed her with its sight!

Maybe there’s two creatures here: the skink relative and an evil demon snake. What do you think?

Like A Champ

Tuesday, February 28th, 2017

Last Saturday we took a drive up north. It was unseasonably warm in Albany, and my birthday is approaching so I wanted to do something fun. Besides, for aeons I have lived here and ignored something significant that has been calling me. From up north.

The drive took us through the Adirondacks and up into higher elevations where the snow was still everywhere, and where Albany with its 70F temperatures seemed a world away. I had dressed for warmth, and keenly felt the freeze. We pressed on.

About two hours after leaving home we were close to our destination, but the final leg took us along what must have been an old logging or mining road. Eleven-plus miles through an ancient pine forest on a very poor road full of blind turns, icy surfaces and near-zero visibility fog. It was hair-raising in the daylight and would have been a nightmare at night. Would the trip be worth it after completing this trial? We would soon find out…

That’s Lake Champlain, taken from a (literally) frozen beach in the town of Port Henry. The lake was massive and quiet and still. The air was cold and the water colder. It was too early in the season for boats, and too early in the day for fishermen. Aside from a few gulls, there wasn’t much life around.

We came here to see a monster.

Lake Champlain is world-famous for its resident: Champ, the lake monster. Second only to Nessie (of Loch Ness) with regards to fame, the first verifiable sighting of Champ was almost exactly 200 years ago (1819) though legends of a monster in this lake date back further still. Over the years there have been hundreds of sightings and even a few photographs, most notable the ‘Sansi’ photograph of 1977 (or was it 1981?). He’s America’s own monster, famous throughout the world.

I’ve known about Champ forever. I should be ashamed it had taken me so many years to come up and see him.

The town of Port Henry, on the southwest shore of the lake, adopted Champ as it’s official mascot in 1981. For a time America went Champ-mad, and there were more than one conferences debating his origin (and existence). Champ souvenirs were a-plenty, and both Vermont and New York (the lake is the border) signed bills protecting Champ as an endangered species. Even today – as you can see above – there is evidence of Champ in tiny Port Henry, including on the Chamber of Commerce sign.

That’s an impressively large sign posted just on the side of the main road into Port Henry. It lists every Champ sighting up until 1990, when apparently they stopped updating it. We drove past this sign on our way to cross the Lake Champlain bridge into Vermont, continuing our hunt for Champ souvenirs.

We found a cute gift shop in Vermont (called ‘Champs’) but it was closed so we headed back. Had we the motivation we could have continued all the way to Burlington where they built a Champ statue some years back and (apparently) there’s a few other monuments to him. Even though they can see New York across the lake, to them I’m sure Champ lives in Vermont.

It was easy, as I stood on the lake shore and looked out, to imagine something deep under that still, cold surface. Lake Champlaign is a massive lake – over 250 km in length and 250 meters deep at it’s deepest. It is (much!) longer, wider and deeper than Loch Ness, and if Nessie can survive there?

As I turned to leave, with Kristin watching me from afar, I heard a splash and a roar some distance away very close to the shore. I quickly turned, and had time enough to snap only a single photo before whatever it was disappeared below the surface. I still can hardly believe what I saw, but as they say, the camera doesn’t lie: