Tuesday, 15 September 2015

Solar Eclipse

Prerequisite: none

When the moon blocks out the sun. Not so simple.


Consider:

1) Size and distance
2) Elliptical orbit, suborbit, and perturbation
3) Gravitation and drift

And miraculously enough, solar eclipses still manage to happen roughly every eighteen months. Not in a big blot kind of way either, but a close fit. It is a curious phenomenon.


And Matt Parker is totally hilarious. He really knows how to unbox calculators.

To sum up the math involved:
223 * 29.53059 days (regular orbit)
239 * 27.55455 days (between sun and earth)
242 * 27.21222 days (level with sun and earth)
≈ 18 years 11 days 8 hours (lowest common multiple)

Meaning that the moon does:
223 regular orbits, 29.53059 days each
239 between-sun-earth orbits, 27.55455 days each
242 sun-earth-level orbits, 27.21222 days each
to return to the position at solar eclipse roughly every 18 years.

Too good to be true! But it is true.

Or you could just believe that the moon is a boring chunk of rock that occasionally blots out the sun. But see here, how else would anyone notice this without a solar eclipse? The sun's outer atmosphere, the corona, is usually too faint to see. Solar eclipses blot out the excess sunlight, yet leaving the atmosphere exposed, so that the corona is visible. The moon is at just the right size and distance.


But really, humans went crazy about making calendars. While most farmers had enough instinct to sense the seasons, humans just had to formulate the perfect calendar to sync up with the years. Rituals? I do not buy that story. Stonehenge was way too much hassle for merely a solstice marker, unless there was something particularly profound about the phenomenon. You would think that people had better things to do than obsessing over dates.. and recording solar eclipses.

Gentle

First find out about introspective.

gentle
the cold I know so well
ethereal touch
cool droplets on grey skin
numb but delightful
lost in a dreamy stupour
indifferent but reassuring
make believe
that the moon glows
not to my comment
but to me
that the night lends
more than its cloak
but its passion
a sweet rainy dew
sweeter more in the wind
with whispers to the heart
where secrets lie asleep
in a chilled chamber
softly aware of a knocking
on the bolted door
that just might
let in
the gentle

The Imagery

Nighttime after a soft rain, with a light breeze.
Grey skin in contact with water droplets.
Personified moon and night.
A locked, somewhat cryogenic compartment.

How random can this get.

The Content

Conveniently it is raining gently as I am writing this post, as it was when I wrote that piece. What I love most about the rain is a decreased atmospheric pressure. It makes me feel " less firmly grounded to the earth". It allows me to escape my body (figuratively) for a while and tend to my emotional state.

The mood in this piece is not as simple as a happy or sad. I am rarely ever happy or sad. But I can say that the tone transitions from amused, to wistful, to reticent. Okay, but why? I bring up something amusing, describe it wistfully, and then clam shut.

I am often reluctant to share what truly matters to me. I can try, only to trail off into an inaudible mumble.

There is not much to say about this. Being one of my early pieces, it is not expanded to its fullest potential. I do like the personifications very much though. Or maybe it is just me being wistful.

Introspective

Lately my blog content has been all over the place. It started off being informative, but then I could not resist adding inspirational and instructional (there is also an interludial coming around the corner.. wait to see what it is).

My newest addition is the introspective. I have no idea who is reading this (or if anyone is reading this at all) but I think that there are some ideas worth sharing. Like the word suggests, introspective is about me. Self examination. This idea came from a new style of writing I came up with over the past two or three months. As of now I have ten entries, some of which borrow from songs and pieces. Now that I look back through these writings, I notice things about myself that I would have otherwise overlooked.

I am not sure what to call these writings. Some might say they are poems. Perhaps they are. All I know is that there is no specific purpose or audience. One day I just thought it would be fun to put some thoughts down in words. And it was fun. There is no other reason for doing it.

At a glance my work looks rather peculiar with my so called "style", so I might as well explain the artistry. One key idea to keep in mind is that the format imitates my thought process. These grammatical abominations seem like phoney baloney but trust me, I do know the rules. In contemporary arts people break rules to achieve an effect, and they must know the rules first before they know how to break rules. Same here:

Lowercase Letters

You will notice that I write entirely in lowercase. I might capitalize some nouns, but that will be it. Capital letters is a very Latin concept. Many languages do without it so I say, it does not hurt to trade it for effect. More importantly, it ties in with my "thought process imitation" in that there are no capital letters to mark beginnings of sentences. Thoughts are often one continuous flow (have you ever caught yourself thinking about absolutely nothing at all?) and writing everything in lowercase helps express the fluidity of my irresolute mind. One cannot keep track of time in deep contemplation. It is one tumbling stream.

Lack of Punctuation

The lack of punctuation has a similar effect to lowercase letters in fluidity, as described above. What about question marks, surely I will need them? Actually, questions in my mind are half statements. This is one of my quirky characteristics. Often times I will "ask" myself but not expect an answer. Another effect is that if you come across an exclamation mark, you will know not to take it lightly. It is for real!

There may be a comma or two to clear up interpretations such as the classic "let's eat grandma" example. As long as I am pleased with the customized specificity / ambiguity, punctuation has fulfilled its purpose. Any more is redundant. In fact punctuation is not universal among languages (testifying with Archaic Chinese here) since the context usually makes it clear enough.

Sentence Fragments

This is where the greatest confusion steps in, but this is exactly how my mind works. It throws some concepts around, a lot of which are not complete. Fragments. Some ideas do not have the chance to fully develop before another one butts in. The fragments are split into lines, although not strictly. There is a lot more to explore with how you interpret the stanza divisions. Meanings can differ drastically yet make sense at the same time. I use parallel structure a lot (maybe I had too much Tang poetry) which can give you some clues to finding order in the madness.

If you read some more, you will find that I sometimes defy parts of speech. That is also the way my mind works. Maybe it is due to bilingualism and my overlapping of Chinese and English concepts. In the unworded stage of my ideas when concepts are just floating around, grammar does not apply. At that point there is no language distinction.

A frequent strategy I employ is to end with what I began with. The last line is usually a similar form of the first line. It brings the piece back to full circle and encourages the audience to read again. It takes a couple reads through to perceive

A teacher of mine said that there is something "poetic" about my writing. Last year we kept journals in which we answer a writing prompt, usually in the form of a question. Nonetheless I turn it into a work on its own, with its own title and theme. Even then I loved to write in lowercase, omit punctuation, fragment sentences, and skip lines. It was an experimental stage for what I have now.

I find that my writing process is a lot like my speaking process. Wording, wording, wording! I use the thesaurus aggressively, not to apply random jargon, but to convey my idea exactly along with its essence. For me diction is a central part to poetry. It is a precarious weight to a balance, or a delicate seasoning to a dish. Frequency. Variety. Originality. So much to take into account. This is possibly why I am such a slow speaker. I spend so much time constructing the perfect wording.

My introspective posts attempt to rediscover myself with this quote:

"But the things that come out of a person's mouth come from the heart," - Matthew 15:18 (the rest of the verse being "and these defile them". We will see whether I have something lurking inside).

The words I write, as well as spoken, are indeed from the heart. A person has to care enough to voice something, or in my case to write. Now that you know what is going on with the introspective posts, I hope you will not get too lost.