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. |
I don't feel like it today. For whatever reason, my temper's been on a hair trigger lately. Maybe it was the hurricane remnants, which have finally passed us by. Maybe lack of sleep. Maybe it's because I haven't had a beer in over a week (no particular reason for that, either, except drinking interferes with my video gaming, and I wanted to play video games). I don't know, and I'm in no mood to do the necessary introspection to figure it out. I'm aware of my bad mood and try not to let it affect others, though the cats might be avoiding me more than usual. But look, there's one thing that's guaranteed to make matters worse when I'm in this kind of shit mood, and that is: asking me why I'm in a shit mood. "Stay away from me; I'm grumpy and don't want to talk." "Oh? What's wrong?" "GAAAAH!" Don't. Just don't. (I mean, now you want to do it here in the comments, which I'll ignore, but I understand the urge.) If I knew what was lighting my fuse, then I could do something about it. Since I don't know, asking me just makes me rage more. Just another reason to be glad I'm single. |