It seems that the smaller one considers the world, the farther from reach are our desires.
To consider a great boundless world brings so much more within grasp.

Kim Scott's "That Dead Man Dance:" Not a Review.

Circa 1801, Matthew Flinders landed on a remote Western Australian shore to find himself surrounded by an impressive tribe of Noongar who watched with bemusement as the Wadjellas landed on their fertile shores. Aiming to impress the assembled men and women Flinders ordered his soldiers to perform military drills, there on the hard sands of a wide Australian beach. Who knows if the Noongar were impressed, but accounts tell of one young Noongar who rose to his feet smiling, then joined the end of the soldiers' line and with his spear, began to mimic their actions. He danced with them until they probably asked him to leave. Flinders left the beach that day thinking little more of this rarely peaceful interaction, but decades later, one Daisy Bates, a white settler, recorded young Noongar men performing ritual dances which looked remarkably like the drills of English militia.
---------------------------------------------------------------
Kim Scott's Bobby Wabalingy waved and stamped his dead man dance so wholly that the audience and their very souls were drawn in. The young man led naturally and all could see the power behind his steps: Behind the mirror he held to his world. Whitefellas and blackfellas alike sensed the draw, the pull of his energy but in time all forgot that once they had seen the world less white & black.

If Bobby Wabalingy's dance had succeeded would Australia be any different now? Would settlement have occured in a kindler, gentler fashion? Whatever that likelihood it is more certain that Bobby's world would have been different had his dance succeeded, had his imagination become manifest. Other, real men have been bridges too yet this young man has been created so beautifully, so splendidly that his failure to succeed must strike one's core more deeply.

Possibly more frustrating, for the rationally inclined, is this book's uncanny ability to inspire the desire for belief. A desire to belong to this spiritual world of connectedness between the physical and the ethereal. Between mankind and the cradle of nature which gives us life. Our individual, lonely selves and those freewheeling beings who occupy our skies, the fields, the rivers and oceans. Laughing at us from trees and scorning our imagined superiority.

For whilst early man's spiritual beliefs may have lent a sense of understanding to natures chaotic moods, the spiritual tendency obviously serves other purposes. In this sense, and others, our desire to comprehend is commendable and runs deep. It has bred a depth of success in all mankind's endeavours but now that we understand so much, are we simply yearning to belong more wholly to the system which nourishes us? If this desire is nothing more than a misguided attempt to understand ourselves then so be it. However let us allow the concurrent respect for that system to influence our thoughts and our plans for the future. Because at this juncture, our ability to destroy that which gives us life marks us especially; makes us stand apart. Yet curiously it also demeans our moral position and throws us back in amongst those from whom we once drew our inspiration, our metaphors. Our fellow creatures, our peers. To take pride in our achievements means we must take responsibility. Which here in 2011, still, we are failing to do. But let us get back to the text.

There are those who contend that men of the 19th century cannot be held accountable to the highest standards of today. So what to make of Bobby Wabalingy's peers, his elders, his boss? Shall we read of these men's actions with a forgiving attitude or shall we accept the inevitable and place ourselves in their shoes. For not only is it our privilege, as readers, to judge by our own standards but it is in this way that heroes are made. And in this way we turn the mirror onto ourselves, ask the same questions we wanted the characters to ask. Until Kim Scott installs additional chapters, Bobby's song remains unsung and the marks of each dance are washed away with the tide.

Enter the Dragon

There was a time when the Eastern Bogan ruled the roads. Not to be confused with its not-so-distant cousin the Northen Spotted Bogan, the eastern bogan is unfortunately in decline. Ecologists cite the usual reasons for depopulation; political climate change, habitat encroachment, re-forrestation etc., etc. Yet typical of so much science, all these apparently scientific explanations fail to satisfy our anthropomorphic sensibilities. They fail to harmonise with our deep seated inclination to see the social side of species reduction and the decreasing biodiversity of our human landscape.

However, please don't misinterpret. The Eastern Bogan was hardly a benign creature and some, unnamed, ecologists remain convinced of the correlation between crime rates and sales of woolly moccaisins. Nonetheless, modern, legitimate research is focusing unnecessarily on ugg boot sales and their distant transmogrification from the old fasioned moccaisins. The aforementioned, publically silent, researchers have informed the author of conspiracies to silence work into correlating such social indicators with Hawthorn memberships and mega-death black t-shirt sales but these reports are unsubstantiated and only given under the journalist's pledge of annonymity.

Opinion is not divided on the salient fact of the matter. The Eastern Bogan is in rapid decline. And this, in times when the Northern Spotted Bogan has held steady and moreover, early data suggests that the Western Horned Bogan is indeed breeding freely. So are social factors leading to the extinction of a once proud Bogan species, or are we all secretly happy to see fewer men with long hair, oversized anthrax t-shirts and no teeth?

The author's firm opinion is that so called professional researchers have failed to see one simple but possibly critical development in Bogan taxonomy. The emergence of a new sub-species. Enter, Boganus Cycloptus, referred to by amateur observers as the Inner Cycled Bogan. This fascinating species has come to the attention of many eager Bogan watchers who lament their professional counterparts lack of interest. The Inner Cycled Bogan, or just Cycled Bogan, is quite possibly a bizzare cross-breed. However, it has developed a unique adaptation (and obsession) of the two-wheeled, pedal-powered kind. Observers suggest that their secret presence for some time now has even led to sub-sub-species, differentiated by some member's apparent inability to use geared bikes, ride up hills or subsist without resorting to strange mating rituals such as bike-polo and riding bikes indoors.

Such apparent differentiation is a myth. The above characteristics are the archetype for the Inner Cycled Bogan. This species was the latest to emerge as genetically distinct but should not be confused with the more benign Outer Cycled Bogan, who's propensity to ride enormous distances uphill prevents interbreeding with the Inner Cycled Bogans who simply cannot keep up and must stop frequently for coffee and cigarettes. There are other factors which cause little interaction between these two species, two of which being the Outer Cycled Bogan's mysterious gear-tuning rituals and lycra-wearing habits.

Furthermore it is this author's humble assertion that the Inner Cycled Bogan is genetically more distinct from the Outer Cycled Bogan, than it is from the once dominant Eastern Bogan. Indeed it is hypothesized that the relation between Inner Cycled and Eastern species is not accidental.

For there remains the obvious genetic evidence of interbreeding between Eastern Bogans and the new Inner Cylced Bogan: Namely the prevalence of wayward "tight genes" amongst their populations. Some say this is natures way of keeping the Eastern Bogan alive, albeit in a modern incarnation, others hypothesize that such interbreeding is simply due to mistaken identity. What happens when courtship rituals are forced into overlapping habitats due to clear felling in the live music industry. Either way, opinion is undivided regarding the result of such interbreeding. For evidence of the poor reproductive fitness of "tight genes" readers are referred to Tight Beans? Bad Genes! (Szczepanik 2009).

In addition, there is growing evidence of particularly poor relations between Eastern Bogans and Outer Cycled Bogans. Again, ecologists are correct to point out the obvious factor of habitat encroachment: The simple fact that the once proud rulers of eastern roads are now forced to give way to the more agile, fitter, Outer Cycled Bogan. Roads and cars being so integral to the Eastern Bogan's mating habits, the effect of this clash needs little elaboration.

So let us keep our perspective intact. The Eastern Bogan may be in decline yet it's genes live on, with a new and successful adaptation. The various Cylced Bogans are now well established and by all accounts will continue to carve out their part of the genetic code. These Bogans are here to stay. They are loud, proud and their entrance into the dragon like bogan underworld is becoming fully accepted.

Future research is focusing, naturally, on interactions with the Spotted Northern and Western Horned Bogans. This is proving to be a rich field of interest.

The Game of Life

Donkey kong does not trap one's spirit; it is ever free to journey where it desires. Yet that thumbpushing existence seems to draw one into a world of insignificant minituae. One's spirit is free to travel other paths yet the beauty of the game is to to convince it's captive mind that nothing else matters.That jumping logs, killing serpents and catching lives is the most important, most pressing reality. Our spirits may be free yet they choose to spend hours upon hours in captivity.

The game does this spectacularly. Convinces one to empty one's consciousness into a keypad. Shuffle tokens until one's eyes water. Is it real? Of course, yes, but a different reality. Poorer for some, richer for others.

And for me? Serpents, log jumping and the risks of gaining lives are very different propositions. I see vipers everyday and wonder if their paths are worth crossing. If my interests are worth the risk. Barriers seem to take a perverse pleasure in choosing a place in my own way. Some are small others not so small. Some place themselves conspicuously others sneak up behind, just waiting for when one realises one must turn around.

Yet barriers are my speciality. I should make a list. Categorise and analyse. Maybe not such a good idea. The worst kind of barriers are the ones one unwittingly places in one's own path. The kind which keep coming back regardless how many times they're jumped over, moved, moved around or demolished. But lives are most important. Gaining lives. They're even hard to write without writing nonesense.

Yet to me it always seemed a pointless infinite regression. Spend hours killing bad guys to gain a life, to spend more hours killing more bad guys. What if some of them weren't that bad? If they had just fallen in with the wrong crowd. A couple of mates are a bit bored, they meet some bloke with horns, get on the piss and blow-me-down next thing they're all swinging virtual battleaxes and plotting world domination. I mean it could happen to anyone.

This risk is the essence of gaming. Some get it gaming, some get it kicking a football. Some even claim to get it golfing (??). My only key distinction is why bother getting it with one hand on the mouse... when the real deal is outside. Waiting.

For a life gained is a moment indeed. A moment to remember, to treasure. It signifies the extension of self whilst reminding us of constant change. Otherwise, a life is gained many times over whenever one's own is risked. To gain a life, to loose it, can appear so trivial, so interchangeable. Is this what drives us to extremes? To seek that ephemeral emotion where life is tasted, savoured like a sweet wonder or the finest wine.

For only death is slow, in our fast world. Fast and exciting like we know it should always be.

March 09

Darwin

It might seem odd for one with a scientific leaning to admit that I'd never really considered who Darwin was named after. Something I probably shouldn't make public. In the short time I will have visited, Darwin has impressed me terrifically. The first two water holes we saw will thus far have to rank as my 2nd and 3rd in the world! And that is only because 1st position is eternally reserved for the Bovo river, a marvelous place from my childhood on Bougainville.

So far Darwin has offered lots of booze, large ocean going catamarans, chicks on scooters, spectacular swimming holes and even, get this, friendly coppers! No kidding. Let the evidence speak for itself. I even met a compatriot from the aforementioned childhood; a friendly local who went to the same primary school as I did, and now lives in Darwin. Small bloody world indeed.

So you fellas get your blankets and hot chocolates, sit by the electric fire and get a quick glimpse of life in the top end.

Efficiency, Emissions, Gas

The predominant technicality which circles our climate change debate like a mangy vulture, is the difference between efficiency and emissions. Most people probably forget to realise that efficiency is a completely arbitrary function. A made up quantity, defined by us, in various different ways, in various contexts. Don't get me wrong, energy efficiency is important but it is also almost invariably misunderstood. Emissions on the other hand are what is directly causing so much consternation amongst our politicians and business leaders.

For example, the efficiency of an electric heater is fantastic. In fact, one would be hard pressed to find a better efficiency in any thermomechanical system. By some estimates, somewhere in the vicinity of ninety nine percent. Whereas the efficiency of a gas heater is closer to thirty nine, or even twenty nine percent. So which is better? Well this is the crux of my point. The electric heater is very efficient but only in the sense of the heater itself. Its emissions are terrible, because in Australia, that heater is likely to be using brown coal electricity, which is many times more polluting than natural gas when burned. So in this case, the gas heater is better, purely because it doesn't require coal.

So what if we use renewable electricity in the electric heater? Of course, this would reduce the electric heater's CO2e emissions to below the gas heater's. Thus making it more "emissions efficient" and lets face it, it's the CO2e which is killing us, not electricity. So let's complicate things. Let's compare a geothermal heat-pump with the aforementioned heaters. Heat-pumps are fridges in reverse; they pump heat from outside to inside thus heating the indoor space whilst cooling the outside somewhat. Heat pumps, like fridges, achieve more "useful thermal work" (either heating or cooling) than they consume electricity thus making them remarkably efficient (a full description of this will require more time). Thus if your only option for heating were to use electricity, it would be foolish in the extreme to choose the electric heater over a heat pump. However, most of us have more options. The problem, yet again, boils down to coal. In Australia, where most electricity comes from coal, the heat-pump would still outperform the electric heater (both run on coal electricity but the heat pump is more efficient and uses less) however coal fired electricity is so emissions intensive, so dirty, that the gas heater would actually outperform the heat-pump (produce less CO2e). Hence heat-pumps, currently, don't make much sense in Australia, unless you're buying a large proportion of GreenPower (or indeed generating your own renewable electricity). Whereas in England, where significant electricity comes from gas, renewables and nuclear, electricity is much cleaner, and the heat pump wins over the gas heater (usually; given that other complicating factors can effect results). English cricket may leave a little to be desired, but their electricity generation is much better than Australia's. Indeed Australia's electricity sector is currently nigh on the dirtiest in the developed world (it's pretty bad even compared to many impoverished, developing countries).

The big economic problem with coal fired electricity, is that it was privatised in 80s and 90s. Now all these erstwhile capitalists, who thought they were buying a sure bet (given we all need electricity like we need water) are screaming blue murder because their nice little blue chip earners have suddenly turned into big white elephants. Caveat emptor indeed. My sound advice to these chaps is; tough titties. Many others could read the writing on the walls, why didn't you?

The great thing about coal fired power stations is that they are readily convertible to becoming gas fired or even solar powered. Indeed the collapse of carbon prices in the EU is partly attributed to faster than expected transfer of coal fired to gas fired electricity. Gas fired produces as little as one third the CO2e of coal (highly dependent on which specific technologies are used) and hence emissions have plummeted dragging down the carbon price with them. Of course the other major carbon price factor is the incredible faculty for incredibly wealthy bankers to be tighter than a deep sea fish's arse. The economic crisis has cut millions of tons of emissions from previous (and future) forecasts and this has also dragged down the carbon price.

The principle point here is that converting existing coal fired stations to gas (or solar) will have significant impact on Australia's emissions. The conversions can be so cheap that no significant compromise needs be made to the ongoing efforts for "proper" energy solutions: Namely truly renewable electricity. Put simply, converting to gas should not jeaopardise renewable investment, because it is a relatively cheap, fast initiative which has a high CO2e reduction impact. Investment in "proper" solutions, will not be hampered and we can achieve deep cuts relatively cheaply but most importantly very quickly. Many sustainability experts will disagree here, claiming that because gas remains a fossil fuel it should not form part of any climate change mitigation strategy. Idealistically, this is true, and I would certainly support conversion to solar over conversion to gas. However, the problem is entirely economic, in the true sense of the word. Conversion to gas would be relatively cheaper, more secure (financially and in terms of energy security) and importantly, it is a technically simple and fast way (~2years) to reduce non-transport emissions by up to sixty percent. SIXTY percent! Of course if I had it my way, these gas conversions would be officially temporary. Intended to patch the interval to when truly sustainable solutions are fully integrated into our energy network. So it shall be written, so it should be done.


"The pain of watching its [Australia's] relentless dilapidation by people too relaxed to give a damn is more than I can bear. I don’t know how many of my fellow e[censored]s feel this way, but I’ll bet some do." Quess this quote for another prize.

Stirling Diary

Guys, taking your comments and general e-activity as a sign of interest, I've noticed a distinct preference for my more uninformative, (even misinformative), controversial, contentious, polarising and downright silly blogs. Upon mentioning this to a trusted colleague his response was the wry cliche, "welcome to showbiz."

Well before I start slumming it with the shockjocks, I hope you all find this entertaining AND informative. If you find yourself getting bored, just enjoy the soundtrack. Caution, it's just under 6MB so beware the dreaded dialup.

Stirling Explanation: Reds

Ok so i got down ok, but on the way.... more trouble. There were blokes wearing lots of flannel, drinking beer and driving massive 4WDs. Lots of em. The schmucks were tearing up the paths that i'd worked out how to run/slide down, just for you fellas. I had to backtrack, then find an unspoiled path. Oh man. Thirsty work. That's not counting running from the bogans.

New wheel for sustainable kiteboarding

I've been busy building. This creation was inspired by the idea of taking the pic below. I'm unsure what to call it. Given its cannibalised heritage, maybe the Sailortrailer or just Hans, after hannibal. Better still, the Startrailer, for its aussie components.
Sustainable kiteboarding. The next pic is my newly built single speed which i had been planning to sell, until i rode it. Now i'm not so sure; only for the right price i reckon.

Jungle Tales

Deep in the unforgiving amazonian jungles our young hero stumbles his way through miles of infested territory in search of the infamous lost anthropologist from oxford and australia. Emerging into a rare clearing he is startled to see a tall, even gangly, blond bearded man, entirely unlike the local indians, sitting in sublime repose within a shaft of warm sunshine. Our young hero approaches the figure cautiously.
"Dr Walker i presume?"

The figure is entirely bathed in the all to unseen sunshine and appears to almost glow in its warmth. It slowly turns its head and lays upon the adventurer an intense, deep, empty stare as if focusing on a point infinitely beyond the adventurer's head or deep within his very mind. Our adventurer is lost in that gaze. It holds him enthralled in silence, waiting, wanting. Fearing what labours may have been spent in vain. Now thoroughly appearing like an apparition the bearded figure utters a long, rumbling reply.
"Yes."

The ensuing pause did not seem silent. The adventurer could not speak, but had by no means become familiar enough with the jungle to put aside its wild cacophony of inhuman communication. Yet this sunlit clearing appeared to hold a different nature all to itself, and from within the sunlight the figure's very shape was dancing in place, increasingly difficult to focus upon.
"Yes, Walker is here... you wish him?"

Our adventurous hero finds it difficult to answer. His eyes water from the sun and thirst burns holes in his thought. He looks away from the sunshine, away from the figure and its strange dark eyes, hoping to shake off the numbing effects of heat, exhaustion and the repressive humidity which slowly drowns his mind.
"Is it you Walker?" He asks again numbly.

He draws his gaze back to the area of sunlight only to find it empty and suddenly a strange new timbre fills the jungle. A hole. A quietness appears which to the untrained mind may seem unnatural. Yet the purer silence speaks quickly to those able to listen. The adventurer stops breathing, peers into the light, into the shadows and unconsiously takes a backward step. He does not hear the new presence before his whole being is filled with a terrifyingly low, hollow but crisp growling. Skin tightens over the adventurer's entire body and stumbling back against a fallen tree he instantly tastes his heart in his throat. Shadows outside the sunlit area waver and the terrible, soft growling drops an octave to be barely heard except through one's chest. Suddenly the shadows to his left leap towards him, a furious blur erupts from the darkness to be upon him before the man even turns to see. Feeling breath on his cheek, an incredible force lands on our hero's chest and he is thrown to his back, staring into the dark eyes and deadly fangs of an untimely death.

The jaguar stands on our adventurer's chest, claws dug fast into his flesh, staring quietly down unto its prey. The soft growling has ceased but the only sound our hero hears is the deafening pounding of his heart. A heart mercilessly controlled by every prehistoric instinct in the adventurer's body which now screams pain and death. In panic he struggles but the huge animal shifts its weight forward pinning the man down, his arms of little use against the jaws which bear the terrifying snarl of the hunter's surest weapon. Yet the jaguar is still. Ever so slowly it pads the adventurers chest, gently rocking its shoulders side to side. Our young hero nearly faints as the huge black head slowly lowers towards his own. The jaguar's whiskers brush against human flesh. It sniffs deeply and hesitates. Lowering further, its jaws remain paused barely an inch from the jugular and the adventurer's eyes close in anticipation of death.

All he hears however is a quiet, deep, hissing.
"You found him."
And the jaguar is gone.
Moments later, the man opens his eyes. He rubs the bleeding claw marks in his chest, sits up, huddles, quietly staring into the clearing which nearly marked his sudden and violent death.

Not so Hot Pants (+new Mojo pic)

I can't decide whether it's because i'm getting old, or whether it's just my impeccable dress sense but i have developed a firm belief that generation Y is seriously putting at risk their capacity for procreation. I am concerned. This particular trend has indeed spread to our own generation and thus something must be done.

Indeed this is more than an idle theory. It is backed by well tested scientific studies into the health of various types of clothing, and frankly... it's no laughing matter. Iggy pop may be able to get away with it, and hot chicks... well they'll get away with whatever they like, but the current trend to wear dangerously tight jeans should be cause for a new public health campaign. It's just not on. All these young lads swanning around with painted on pants are blissfully unaware of their impending peril.

Some useful slogans for the new health campaign might be "How wrapped is your package?" Or alluding to the longer term effects of constricting your boys, "Street fashion debarrs passion." Or simply "Tight beans? Bad genes." All these confer my fundamental point: Tight jeans are dangerous.

The underground media has a slow undercurrent of horrific stories describing the painful injuries sustained in failed attempts to "strap on" these insidious pieces of clothing. One poor gentleman, whilst hopping on one leg trying to operate the zipper, had unfortunately forgotten his jocks. The resultant injury sustained when said zipper reached its most unfortunate, premature end, shocked him so much, that he fell out his first floor window. To add insult this poor soul managed to fall amidst a private girls school field trip. If the hospital expenses weren't enough he was forced to endure the mindless litigation of a series of lawyer mums. Ironically they all wore tight jeans to mediation.

The heinous contradiction, or delicious irony, is that these unfortunate fashion victims are not even doing their appearances any favours. I am prepared to concede that for the hyper slim gentlemen out there, these tight pants are not so bad looking. Possibly even tolerable. But of course for these gentlemen their slim waists are mitigating factors. The fashion statement stands. The vast majority of lads simply do not look good wearing pants which give the impression of a pear with long skinny legs. Give it up lads. Do your kids and your appearances a favour and let your boys swing free.


"Style is knowing who you are, what you want to say, and not giving a damn." Another prize for guessing who's quote this is.

The democratic oath

"I swear by Apollo...... "
Actually Apollos aren't given the credit they deserve. I'd still rather be riding a sweet Cervelo or an I-Drive GT but in a really tight spot the apollo will not let you down. Errhm.

Given my unwavering dedication to the democratic process i propose a wee plebiscite. You the readers will decide on what topics the next installment should wax lyrical. Here are the candidates:

1. Football in the Australian media. Not pretty but guaranteed to insult certain individuals.
2. Private education. See above.
3. Short story. Containing item of your choice.
4. What you've always wanted to know about nuclear fusion. Features my mate, X-pm little Johnny.

So far door number three is proving popular within the preliminaries. Of course all preferences will be allocated by the editor. Send your votes to my email address.

"Doppler effect: The tendency for bad ideas to sound good when they come at you rapidly." Unknown.

The nature of causation

WHAT IS A CAUSE?
(Not for those time constrained: it's long)

Many scientific and psychological studies take a practical approach to the nature of causation which bases the recognition of causal relations on statistical, correlative relationships. It appears that many so called scientists require constant reiterating that causation is not proven by the existence of a correlation between two variables but that such statistical relations only imply the possibility of a causal relation. The charging voltage on a motorcycle alternator (at least a simple one like mine) maintains a positive correlation with the exhaust flow rate yet one cannot say that either of these variables maintains a causal relation with the other. Correlation does not imply causation although it will be found between variables that are causally related.

For the purposes of a large part of science causality is shown through methodical testing of hypothesis which propose one variable as causing another. Numerous tests exist which try to keep constant as many other possible causes as allowable in order to isolate the one being suggested as responsible for the given effect. These tests can take random samples from the population or even change the prevalence of the suggested cause then observe for the effect frequency. They can take samples already with and without the hypothetical cause then observe for effect or they can observe the effect frequency and record past and present existence of the cause. All such studies rely on the ‘everything else being the same’ premise and some do well to keep the residual state of subjects homogenous. However each test is also prey to some faults such as the possibility of joint causes, other ‘real’ causes of both hypothetical cause and effect (especially problematic if they are, even hypothetically, unknown) or simply practical difficulties of reliable information or alteration of hypothetical cause frequency.

Annoyingly such investigations tell us nothing about the ‘ultimate’ causes or the nature of causality itself. They take a pragmatic and rhetorical meaning of causation. If we are searching for ways to stop death due to lung cancer then sure it’s sufficient and now easy to say that smoking causes lung cancer. It solves the problem at hand. We now know that by reducing a certain behaviour, namely smoking, then sure enough the prevalence of lung cancer will also reduce. It still tells us little about what causation is. Indeed the problem is that such studies do not give us an understanding of causation but nonetheless try to tell us what causation must be, i.e. synergy with the above tests. All too often this type of rigid, formal, scientific investigation for causal relation is not uncovering any causes but specifying what type of relation two variables must have in order to qualify as cause and effect. Of course this is not entirely bad indeed it can be great. From it we know a lot about the world and how to help people (also how to destroy them) but it is a use of the word causation that doesn’t go as deep as we really want because generally speaking we are searching to uncover something about the nature of the universe and about the nature of causation.

One commonly agreed upon fact, at least intuitively, is that a cause must precede its effect. That no observed event can cause an effect in the past. Naturally this fundamental structure has led us to seek explanations for the universe’s current state by appealing to situations in the past. It also seems that explanations of the state of the universe are attempting to explain why we observe the type of relations that are dubbed causal. In other words the endeavour to understand our physical world is an endeavour to explain the ‘reason’ behind why things happen as they do. We know that an increase in a motorcycle’s engine speed is ‘caused’ by an increase in the flow rate of air-fuel mixture into the cylinders (or by the rider dropping his right wrist) but to explain this causation (to ask why) we learn the laws of gas-thermodynamics and of chemical combustion as well as mechanics and geometry. We always take one causal relation and explain it with other, possibly numerous, causal relations. As we progress down the hierarchy of casual explanation we sometimes believe to be approaching some fundamental causal relations and indeed it seems we do. But have we actually understood what causation is?

On a grand scale the search for causes and effect of various phenomena has led us to know that the universe is expanding and of course in the past must have been smaller. We naturally must then ask for a description of the event that occurred before the universe was infinitesimally small, i.e. what may have caused the universe and ensuing expansion. For years it was argued that the answer lay beyond science because the laws of space-time, gravity, matter and energy that predicted the expansion could not, so to speak, step out of themselves to explain the beginning of the domain in which they rule. Of course current explanations of the big bang utilise the inherent indeterminacy of quantum mechanics to suggest that the event may well be explained by science. Very briefly, quantum mechanics suggests that a quantum event, such as quantum tunneling, may occur spontaneously without a defined cause in the classic sense. The probability of the event’s occurrence is indeed fixed but knowing if that event will occur is impossible. The big bang could have been analogous to an event such as quantum tunneling and hence explained within the scope of physics. (There are other possible ways that the big bang can be described by physics with the help of quantum mechanics but will not be explored in this simplification.) In this way is presented a refutation of arguments which state that the inability of science to describe the big bang was evidence for the necessity of a religious explanation of the creation event.

Of interest here is the deterministic or indeterministic nature of science and physics in particular. Traditionally the world view attained from science has been ordered and mechanistic where events always have prior causes that we must find. The notion of probabilistic causation is also not new and the aforementioned structured, statistical tests for causal hypotheses can deal with probabilistic causation. That is deal with the idea that a cause/s will not determinably bring about an effect but rather increase the probability that the effect will occur. The indeterminacy in quantum mechanics however is subtly different. There is no similarly defined cause that may or may not bring about some effect. A quantum tunneling event can occur not because some other prior event gives it a certain probability but because it is ‘in the nature’ of the particle system to have a non-zero probability of being outside the barrier immediately after it was initiated with a wave-function constrained within the barrier. The inverted commas are to highlight that although there seem to be no prior cause for the tunneling event it does have an explanation, and a very scientific one. The ‘cause’ of the tunneling event is that quantum particle systems are disposed to such behaviour according to the laws of quantum mechanics. It could be said that the quantum mechanical model of particle systems provides the only ‘causal’ explanation for the tunneling event. To ask why the tunneling event occurs, to seek a further explanation is to force determinism onto physical theories (in this case quantum mechanics) which is notably not considered necessary by many physicists. The point is that quantum mechanical ‘causation’ is very different from the type found through statistical testing of causal hypothesis. Yet it is sufficient an explanation for many.

The inconsistency of what we really mean by causation, and what we really want from it is made apparent. It seems that although we can ‘find’ the type of causal relations specified by the statistical scientific method (or label found relations as causal) we also want causation to explain the nature of the world at a deeper level. It's possible that this deeper meaning won’t be found in science if we are looking for a type of relation that mirrors the one dictated by traditional ‘causal’ models. It's also possible that science could outstrip the traditional models by showing their ultimate inability to cope with the complexities of modern theories, which is bizarre considering those models were often made synonymous with science itself. Furthermore, although the indeterminism in quantum tunneling has been used here as an analogy for how science can accept indeterminism, there are more methods through which to approach a perceived need for new conceptions of causation. Other areas of quantum physics such as the uncertainty principle can provide interesting examples as well as notions of reciprocal, dynamic, interacting systems of cause and effect. This discussion of course requires more attention than allowed here but it is hoped that if you've gotten this far you have at least been inspired to ponder the fundamental building blocks of science and how they relate to our practical world.

Golf: a Manifesto

Golf: A Manifesto.

The assassination of JFK was a nation-making event for the US and the much loved former president continues to influence US politics. Not only the much "loved" former president Bill Clinton but also the newly elected hope-of-the-world president Obama have invoked JFK's benevolent spectre for their own ends. JFK was a man of many faces and even more secrets. Let's be thankful DNA testing was not available during his reign. But the most telling secret of all, closely held by senior staff and compared to thermonuclear launch codes, or Jackie's real bra size, was the fact of JFK's superb golfing prowess. The man was apparently a master of the once Scottish passtime of bashing small balls with sticks, until they fall into a hole. Hmmm.

So why was JFK's golf prowess such a secret? Well... no points for answers. The game may have once stemmed from Scottish shepherds getting bored whilst on the meadows but i've always wondered why they didn't just order some velcro gloves and an electric fence like their NZ counterparts! Surely the sticks, balls and holes were just a convenient allusion; euphemism if you may.

Anyhoo. I am prepared to concede that golf could be somewhat addictive. That one may become obsessed with hitting that poor little ball harder and bagging that hole quicker but let's face it. Wouldn't you rather go surfing? JFK obviously did not know about surfing but he wasn't a schmuck and what he did know all too well, was the political damage his golf game would impart to his political one. This man knew that golf is viewed as a closeted, upper-crust privilege for overindulged trustfund babies and scheming executives. For good reasons too. The game appears to be mostly played for its potential to "network" new business deals and then either stroke egos by losing, or in-lieu of having a fist-fight, become hyper competitive by flashing around your new $15k golf clubs.

But the primary reasons i don't like golf have little to do with the fact that there are any number of sporting activities which are a squillion percent more fun, or even the unsavoury golfing stereotype. My primary reasons are that golf courses are possibly one of the most inequitable uses of otherwise gorgeous parklands. Unlike most of you guys, i have to regularly ride through a public golf course which is just that "public." Unlike most golf courses it is crown land and anyone is legally entitled passage. There is even a bike path. But of course humans being what they are, and myself lacking those genes to do with moderation, mediation or self preservation, i regularly encounter the obnoxious golfers who politely tell me to "get the fuck off our course." Or other times "Hey bike arsehole... fooouuur." Or my favourite "oh mate dontcha know the rules, this a fuckin golf gourse dickhead." The latter's private education was obviously money well spent.

Needless to say i treat these evil taunts with the maturity you would all expect from an insightful social commentator such as myself. I just really hate having to pick the grass from my tires after i steal their balls and throw them in the river. To be fair not all golfers treat cyclists with such disdain and occaisionally some even deign to move their ridiculous golf buggies off the bike path. Nonetheless i remain immensely pleased when after a moonlit winter night, the greenskeeper from a local exclusive private golf course awakes to find numerous mountainbike trackmarks all over his sloping fairways. Power to people!

What I reckon about budget deficits

Don't get me started about budget deficits...