Not for the faint of art. |
Complex Numbers A complex number is expressed in the standard form a + bi, where a and b are real numbers and i is defined by i^2 = -1 (that is, i is the square root of -1). For example, 3 + 2i is a complex number. The bi term is often referred to as an imaginary number (though this may be misleading, as it is no more "imaginary" than the symbolic abstractions we know as the "real" numbers). Thus, every complex number has a real part, a, and an imaginary part, bi. Complex numbers are often represented on a graph known as the "complex plane," where the horizontal axis represents the infinity of real numbers, and the vertical axis represents the infinity of imaginary numbers. Thus, each complex number has a unique representation on the complex plane: some closer to real; others, more imaginary. If a = b, the number is equal parts real and imaginary. Very simple transformations applied to numbers in the complex plane can lead to fractal structures of enormous intricacy and astonishing beauty. |
A Guardian article from earlier this year promotes a "radical" idea. Or, as I call it, eating. āIntuitive eatingā is an anti-diet that helps reconnect us to internal cues. But how does it work? Well, first of all, if it's intuitive, then you don't need rambling "how does it work" articles, now, do you? Figuring out what to eat is complicated. What are you in the mood for? What do other people in your household want? What can you afford? What do you have time to prepare? Wow. If that's complicated, I hope you never have to be a writer working on a deadline. Oh, wait. Add the ambient pressure of a culture that loudly celebrates certain foods, bodies and lifestyles as desirable while vilifying others, and the simple question of what to have for dinner becomes fraught. Oh, but it's even worse than that when you add in vegans, gluten-avoiders, the allergic and the "allergic," religious restrictions, etc. Recently, there has been renewed interest in an approach called āintuitive eatingā, based on the idea that your body already knows exactly what it needs. Yes, it absolutely does, and apparently, it "needs" to be overweight. Apparently, though, that's an expected result of intuitive eating. Just try telling that to my doctor. She recommends people ask themselves questions like: what does it mean for me to feel healthy? Am I taking into consideration my mental health, emotional health and relational health? Which of my beliefs come from accurate, scientific information ā and which come from movies, TV shows or ads in magazines? Well, I'm not going to argue with this. It parallels my feelings about drinking. Given how emotional this work can be, experts recommend working with a professional when possible. Again... this kind of nullifies the "intuitive" part. Giving yourself permission to eat what you want may involve wrestling with how your cultureās foods might have been villainized by mainstream, white American culture, Johnson explains. Oh, give me a fucking break. I get that it's fashionable to turn mainstream white American culture into the Bad Guy, but how about doing it by ragging on deep-fried butter with mayonnaise, or whatever culinary abomination came out of some Midwestern state fair this year? Also not mentioned: the overwhelming amount of privilege it takes to "eat what you want." You think our distant, or even not-so-distant, ancestors were able to put together a shopping list or order from Instacart, like I do? No, they hunted or gathered whatever was available that week, or, later, were mostly restricted to plants and animals suited for domestication. Eating what you want is largely an industrial-age possibility, a product of privilege, and this includes veganism or gluten avoidance. My point being that, as much as I distrust unsupported evolutionary arguments, I don't think we evolved to eat what we want, but to eat what was available, and sometimes, there wasn't a lot of that. On the other hoof, a lot of people back then didn't live very long, so it's hardly an ideal to strive for. |