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'The Code of the Woosters' by PG Wodehouse is my idea of mathsTheGreenAnger wrote: ↑Sat Oct 22, 2022 9:37 pmQuantum Theory by David Bohm.
I started reading this book some months ago, full of my own hubris as an 1982 second-year level mathematics undergraduate (passed), all part of an LL.B degree, in the days when you had the option of studying non-legal courses for at least three years before you specialized in law at UCT.
Bohm's book is totally explicable to one of my limited mathematical skillset, but I knew what he was doing, even in death, teasing the interested neophyte, to move on in their thinking to try harder, and so I have had to go back to the basics, Lorentz transformations, LaGrangian maths, and the German quantanmists, etc. and so much more... this book will keep me busy until the day I die...
If this sort of stuff interests you then read on, but prepare to just keep on reading, even if it is just to reject Bohm.
Wodehouse is wonderful, but the code is impenetrable!Opsboi wrote: ↑Sat Oct 22, 2022 10:59 pm'The Code of the Woosters' by PG Wodehouse is my idea of mathsTheGreenAnger wrote: ↑Sat Oct 22, 2022 9:37 pmQuantum Theory by David Bohm.
I started reading this book some months ago, full of my own hubris as an 1982 second-year level mathematics undergraduate (passed), all part of an LL.B degree, in the days when you had the option of studying non-legal courses for at least three years before you specialized in law at UCT.
Bohm's book is totally explicable to one of my limited mathematical skillset, but I knew what he was doing, even in death, teasing the interested neophyte, to move on in their thinking to try harder, and so I have had to go back to the basics, Lorentz transformations, LaGrangian maths, and the German quantanmists, etc. and so much more... this book will keep me busy until the day I die...
If this sort of stuff interests you then read on, but prepare to just keep on reading, even if it is just to reject Bohm.
Oh well, knees must...TheGreenAnger wrote: ↑Sat Oct 22, 2022 11:05 pm
I suspect we have reverted, once again to this in British history...
As the patellas drive...Opsboi wrote: ↑Sat Oct 22, 2022 11:25 pmOh well, knees must...TheGreenAnger wrote: ↑Sat Oct 22, 2022 11:05 pm
I suspect we have reverted, once again to this in British history...
Shinful postTheGreenAnger wrote: ↑Sat Oct 22, 2022 11:26 pmAs the patellas drive...Opsboi wrote: ↑Sat Oct 22, 2022 11:25 pmOh well, knees must...TheGreenAnger wrote: ↑Sat Oct 22, 2022 11:05 pm
I suspect we have reverted, once again to this in British history...
- George BarkerDaedalus
I
Like the enormous liner of his limbs
and fell.
Remain behind, look on
What’s left of what was once in blighted remains.
That imponderable body
Smote my desire, now smitten
Mortally.
I lift his head, his death dampens
The moist palm of my hand like handled fear
Like fear cramping my hand
and stand.
Remain behind, entertain posthumous fear.
II
Come where no crowds can trouble us divert us
No acrobats hawkers bottles or street musicians
No towering necks like buildings overlook
Intimate revelation.
I take your hand
Spectre
And steadily lead you
Across morning haunted lawns in earlier
Days, and show
With a reversal of our growing older
How it began, what caused, the germ of time.
Where florid in the night pregnant nightdresses
Proceed sedately down unlighted stairs
Like people. And in the garden
Large lake unreal. Hark, I hear visitant
Swans, and the moths in the trees
Like minor caverns humming. There he draws
Antennae from paralyzed spiders, weapons
In his warlock fingers brandished: or runs
Engendering the eventual major strength like engines
Preparant. I cannot discern you in the leaves or in the
Undergrowth, when starting down the steep hills
He flies precipitate: Spectre, Spectre, where
If among these early places lie you, do you lie?
He fell, not then. Recently sure has fallen from that high
Platform. Formed in fearlessness, has fallen
Like through thought’s clouds through fear, as You stood
Waiting with wanting breast to catch, he in his fall
Evaded. Passed towards a grave straight through.
Of Course You Knew, for saw his comet face
Approaching downward like irresistible.
I mourn him. Him I mourn, from morn to morning.
III
Where once he trod
I cannot tread;
From the home he is gone from
I am prohibited:
We cannot be
While he is gone from being;
While he is not with being
I am as well miserably unloving;
Totally bereft I too am totally absent,
Appearing here, although
Bruisable and buriable seeming, am too bruised
In my dead
To buried.
Spectre who spreads
Internal dissension,
Dividing the unit army of the body
To coward forces,
Since I have brought
To these private places
Sick with his not being, with his recalled
Reverberant fleet blooms of doing and coming,
Empty with his going, since accomplished, entertained,
Shown choicest hothouse blossoms, phenomenal
Plants he acted on the air like dances lasting,
Since he is not here but where you know with doom—
IV
Where wander those once known herons
Or rabbits here
With shattered entrapped forepaws pitiable in crimson
Killing have known,
And seven-year-old boys locked among ominous
Shadows, enveloped
Have known, and are
At the unmerciful onrush of determined seas
Gathers small craft
There the acquainted faces of the dead sailors
Sight that sees
Where those once known herons fled in fear, to where I
Like lonely herons
The abandoned heroine
V
Go. With mild gradual descent
Burden the memory
Not as he fell, in anger, in the combat
With forms invisible intactual fought
On that mortal rooftop: not with celestial
Speed brought down, in meritorious
Defeat no beating, but like lamed
Herons or birds in wounded slope
Descending down to lamentable homes
In scraggy caves, borne down by death, I come
Drawn down to earth, and underneath
The earth, like one drawn under
Lethal water by an unknown weight
Unseen invisible, but not unknown is fear.
A New York Times Book Review Editors' Choice
In the spirit of The Right Stuff, updated for the 21st century, Test Gods is an epic story about extreme bravery and sacrifice, about the thin line between lunacy and genius. Most of all, it is a story about the pursuit of meaning in our lives--and the fulfillment of our dreams.
Working from exclusive inside reporting, New Yorker writer Nicholas Schmidle tells the remarkable story of the test pilots, engineers, and visionaries behind Virgin Galactic's campaign to build a space tourism company. Schmidle follows a handful of characters--Mark Stucky, Virgin's lead test pilot; Richard Branson, the eccentric billionaire funding the venture; Mike Moses, the grounded, unflappable president; Mike Alsbury, the test pilot killed in a fatal crash; and others--through personal and professional dramas, in pursuit of their collective goal: to make space tourism a reality.
Along the way, Schmidle weaves his relationship with his father--a former fighter pilot and decorated war hero--into the tragedies and triumphs that Branson's team confronts out in the Mojave desert as they design, build, and test-fly their private rocket ship. Gripping and novelistic, Test Gods leads us, through human drama, into a previously unseen world--and beyond.
Thank you for the good review; have been considering it for when I have finished Hitler by Ian Kershaw. However, as I am only 7% through said tome, I may take a break for the SAS.
My library has this book in e format as well as print, large print and book on CD.
