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. |
Got a long one for you today. It's from Truly*Adventure, a source I've never used before, and it's a few years old. As the title is kinda vague, and the subtitle is kinda long, I'll sum it up as quick as I can: A volcano erupted, people fled, and other people saved the animals left behind. What makes this interesting to me is that I've visited the volcano. While it was active. The Soufriere Hills Volcano had been threatening the small Caribbean island of Montserrat for two years. I mean, technically, the island of Montserrat is the Soufriere Hills volcano. It was dormant for so long they thought it was extinct. Turns out it wasn't. The article is, as I said, long. So this is more to share it, and recount my own experience, than to make comments on it. There exists a photo of me—rare, I know— standing next to the volcano exclusion zone sign on Montserrat. Really, I should have put at least one foot over the line to demonstrate just how rebellious I am. But it's probably wrong for me to joke (though that's never stopped me before). What happened to Montserrat is a real tragedy. Thousands displaced. City destroyed. Fortunately, they're a Commonwealth country, so England took a bunch of them. But how do you go from living on a tropical island paradise to cold and windy Old Blighty? Not that Montserrat isn't windy. There's a distinct difference between the windward and leeward sides of the island. One's mostly barren, with sporadic trees that grow diagonally because of the winds off the Atlantic. The other's a tropical rainforest. Or, well, was, before it turned to ash. And a few holdouts remained on the island. To avoid the exclusion zone, they migrated to the inhospitable (barren and windy) northern lobe. I haven't been there for 20 years, but I recall makeshift dwellings and such. Hopefully, things have improved by now. At the time, I considered myself lucky to get a tour of the island, at least those parts open to travel. Unless you live in a volcano zone, it's not every day you get to observe an active one, and even rarer that you can do so in relative safety. Standing on a windy hillside, I watched the mountain blow plumes of smoke while the ground vibrated beneath my feet. Clouds hovered around the summit, and, despite the wind, never cleared. There's a metaphor in there somewhere, but it's too early in the morning for me to tease it out. |