Last Sunday and again today, Jim asked for my help with his photography project. The project is sort of a skewed version of Americana – or at least a view of it between Akron and Navarre.
We had been out to dinner with his Mom and I spotted a Thump sign in someone’s yard on the way back to her house. It was still early enough when we left that we were able to find the yard again and Jim had his camera with him. I parked off to the side and kept the engine running while he got out, set up the tripod, and lined up the shot.
A passing car turned around and then parked down another side street. I kept an eye on them while they – apparently – kept an eye on Jim. He finished up, pretending to take some pictures of geese to throw them off – then hopped in the car and we headed out.
Today, we were out again and when he took a picture of the mailboxes near a trailer park a guy came out and talked to him. I sat in the car and kept watch. Jim explained what he was doing and the guy was okay, but it was a little tense. Next, over to one of those small churches with a hand-lettered sign. While Jim was setting up, a woman came out to talk to him.
The talked for quite a while and Jim told me later she was the pastor and invited us both to church. He got the photos, promised to send her a copy, and we were on our way.
I’m not sure what I would have done if there had been any trouble, but I guess I was ready to hop out of the car and charge into the fray. Hmmm… maybe I should bring my sword next time. Nothing says, “I’m prepared to try to out-crazy you” like a guy with a sword.
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This afternoon, I spent several hours working on a metal model of a Ferris wheel. It was a Christmas present from one of my friends and it was tiny. Super tin. The gondolas were made up of three pieces – and sides were small enough to fit on my pinkie fingernail. I carefully removed the pieces from the framework, sorted and bent the metal according to the instructions, and reached the final step of putting the gondolas on the Ferris wheel when disaster struck.
One of the gondolas broke. I figured I could find another way to attach it, but as I added the other gondolas to the wheel the ones that were already in place fell out of the shape.
Tedium, I can handle. Tiny pieces, I can handle. Not great instructions, I can handle.
Poor design – nope.
I’d get one added and two more would fall out. The only way to fit the gondolas in place was to slightly pull the wheels apart – which would lead to the rest slipping loose.
In the end, with broken parts and frustrating design, I trashed it. It was an interesting project, but it stopped being remotely fun. And if I’d finished it, I’m not sure what I would have done with it.
I’ve got a wooden puzzle of a skeleton that I’d like to try next – the metal one just wasn’t working for me.
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So, frustrated with that model, I headed to my computer to play a little minecraft. I opened a portal to the Nether, traveled across the lava fields, and then opened another portal to the overworld. I ended up in a cave and started to tunnel my way up.
And then my tunnel flooded. I saw a light above me and tried to swim up to it, but I was apparently at the bottom of the ocean and drown before making it to the surface.
Frustrated, I turned the game off to go read a book.
It got me thinking, though, at how much I empathized with the character in the game.
I recently read an article about an experiment to see if the universe – our universe – is a simulation.
The idea comes from the uncertainty at the quantum level of reality. Things are… fuzzy down there and some scientists liken that to resolution/rending errors. Plus, things aren’t set until they are observed and that seems kinda funny too.
So, there’s an experiment to split a high power laser, slam the light through a bunch of prisms, and then put it back together. If the end result isn’t precise anymore, that means – according to the scientists – that space itself is distorted.
That the “pixels” of reality aren’t rending properly at that level and causing the distortion.
Huh.
So far, the results are inconclusive. I’m not sure what we’d do with that knowledge if it turned out that reality is a simulation.
My character in Minecaft isn’t aware that he isn’t real. He’s not aware of anything – as far as I can tell – but even if he was, how would he know he’s not real? The rules of his universe are consistent and would – for him – make sense. He wouldn’t have a way to know otherwise. And the actions that I control could very well be chalked up to his own thinking. How could know that his consciousness is made up of my keyboard and mouse?
So, I sit here at my computer. Wondering.