MPJ

Battle of Naissus

2025-11-05T04:30:00.043-05:00

- two-chapter preview -

Aegyptus, early spring, 249 AD

City of Canopus, the westernmost mouth of the Nilus River

The Luna and a massive fire atop the Pharos of Alexandria illuminated the calm waters at the entrance of the Canopic branch, twenty miles from the city. It was the darkest part of the night, and the eerie, silent delta of the mighty river was barely disturbed by the faint sounds of twenty oars of two small boats quietly approaching the mouth of the Nilus.

Odokar touched the surface of the water again, testing the salinity and temperature. He was born and spent his entire life at the mouth of the Danapris River, sailing across Lake Maeotis and northern Pontus Euxinus. He knew well how to feel the change where the fresh water of the river and the salty seawater meet. He cursed the light of the clear night sky, but the decision to row to this very watery branch was the only choice, knowing that the other six channels were quite deserted and that only here did they have a chance of what he had in mind. He glanced at his small band of lightly armed soldiers. They were all strong men in their prime who had been rowing for quite some time without stopping, showing no sign of fatigue. He personally selected the strongest Gadrauht soldiers for this mission. They were loyal, both to him and to their homeland, and above all, he knew they would obey his orders no matter what.

When they sank their ship a few miles north and continued their journey in these small boats, Odokar, for a moment, felt a slight doubt about the success of the mission, but if the information proved correct, perhaps for the first time in several generations of all the Gothic nations, especially his Herulians, they would have a fighting chance against the mighty Roman legions. Both his and his men's lives are worth nothing compared to what would come from their success in the upcoming days and months.

As they slid into the fresh waters of the river, he instructed both helmsmen to stay on the starboard side of the river, which was nearly a thousand feet wide and even wider at many bends and straights. The first settlement appeared after five miles on the Alexandrian side, and they passed it quietly without any disturbance. Odokar was well prepared for what awaited them most of the way downstream. His informant had taught him all he needed to know, and he knew that this city was called Bolbitine and that they were about a hundred miles from the Babylonian fortification, which was the main Roman stronghold and the last major one in the massive river delta.

The first rays of light, with dawn coming earlier and earlier each day since they had set out from Scythian territory, not far from the northern border of the Roman Empire, were approaching quickly, and he felt that they were rapidly losing time. He was deep in thought, trying to come up with a different plan in case their luck ran out, when his men saw the first glimmer of light coming from a campfire on the other side of the water. He signaled for them to start rowing toward it, and they soon found a place to tie up their boats beside two date palms with plenty of room to safely disembark between them.

"Edgar!" Odokar pointed to his most loyal Gadrauht and childhood friend, who led the other boat. "Take two of your men and come with me. The rest of you, stay here and prepare for the call."

The four of them cautiously approached the camp, and the first thing they saw was several camels lined up in a circle with dozens of people in the middle, most of them sleeping, and a few busy preparing food and repacking goods and supplies.

"Libyans." Odokar cursed and gestured for them to get back into the boats. As soon as they were aboard, they set off upstream again, this time rowing along the left bank of the river as close to shore as possible.

Dawn had already begun to change the eastern sky from pitch black to variations of gray and blue when their luck turned after two more scouting trips to the coast, sparked by campfires at two more Bedouin camps. Odokar and Edgar, huddled a hundred feet behind dense palm trees, finally caught sight of what they had been hoping for all along. Three contubernium units of Roman legionaries had set up camp for the night on their way north, probably to Alexandria, or downriver to Babylon.

Edgar quietly returned to the river and organized his men for the raid. One group joined Odokar a few moments later, while Edgar led ten others around the camp in a wide arc and took up position on the western side. Soon both sides were crawling towards the camp in perfect sync, stopping just ten feet from the nearest legionary. Odokar and two of his men took out their crossbows and, in perfect unison, shot dead three guards who were sitting around the fire, keeping it alive and chatting lazily, not expecting any danger from the direction of the river.

The massacre that followed lasted only a few moments, exactly the time it took for the Goths to tower over each sleeping legionary, killing them with a few stabs directly to the back of the head or by brutal strangulation if their sleeping position made it easier. It was obvious that they were careful not to pierce their tunics and the thick leather parts of their armor, the belts and girdles that held the metal components together.

Odokar did not participate in the bloody raid. It was not because his instincts or morals could not bear it. He had had his share of raids over the last decade or more, during many scouting missions in the Roman territories below the Danube. He served first as a young Gadrauht and later as a leader in the Dacian and Thracian lands. The last scouting mission had taken place last year in the southern parts of Moesia Superior, where information was obtained on the size of Roman mining facilities and the routes of Roman cohorts.

His mother, a Greek, met his father during a relatively peaceful coexistence with Roman legionaries in their neighboring provinces. During these periods, his father was an experienced sailor and shipmaster of a captured Greek corbita. He undertook numerous trading expeditions in the western Pontus, as far south as Byzantium. The trade goods transported to Roman cities mainly included high-quality furs, amber, and meat. His corbita was medium-sized but large enough to trade horses and slaves as well. His mother was an important part of the Gothic trading community. She was important not only because of her obvious translation skills, but also due to her crucial knowledge of Roman customs. She was directly involved in trade negotiations and the exchange of goods in Roman ports.

Unfortunately, several scouting missions failed for various reasons and did not return. Some of their people were captured, and the Romans managed to learn the routes of entry for the Goths, primarily via the Danubius, but also for those who entered Roman territory by infiltrating merchant ships. One of the last trading voyages had occurred nearly twenty years earlier when the Roman legionaries had boarded their ships as soon as they had dropped anchors at the large port of Odessus in southern Moesia Inferior. His father's ship was the largest at the head of the small armada of merchant ships of the day.

Odokar was only 12 years old when, from the command post of the ship, where he stood with his mother, he witnessed the cruelty of Roman soldiers after they discovered the Gadrauchts in the cargo hold. They brutally killed everyone on board, including the entire crew and his father, sparing only his mother, him, and several other women and children from other ships. That same day they ended up in Roman dungeons as slaves. It took him five years to escape and get his head out alive and another two to find his way to Scythian territory. His mother was not so lucky. She died of an infectious disease while doing the hardest jobs for wealthy Moesian families.

The Romans had banned trade and imposed an annual tribute soon after on main Gothic settlements, hoping it would stop looting and raiding. But it was irregular, miserable, and offensive, to say the least.

The time has come to put an end to it.

He snapped out of his thoughts and watched for a while as his men buried the dead in a pit they had quickly dug in the mud.

"Make sure everyone is clean and well-shaven!" He shouted to Edgar and went to the pile of Roman uniforms and armor to find some that were his size. Fortunately, one of the three decanus commanders of the contubernium units was his height and build, and he quickly donned the uniform.

The sun was quickly rising from the horizon behind the Canopus arm of the mighty Nilus, and Odokar would have been happier if they were already on their way, but Gadrauhts' transformation into legionaries took much longer than he had expected. It didn't matter. They were fortunate to carry out their plan under cover of darkness; otherwise, it would have been much more complicated if they had had to travel and hide during the day in search of a suitable unit of legionaries. His source had told him that contuberniums were common along the river line, but the river delta was still a hundred miles long, and he had some doubts at first.

But now it was all over. Odokar mounted his horse and joined Edgar at the head of the small military unit. Turning to his men, he said a short prayer to the god of war, "Teiws, we are in your mighty hands now. Accept our sacrifice in the name of our forefathers!"

A religious chant erupted, slowly at first, but as they repeated the hymns of praise to the close presence of the ancestral spirits, the words became louder and louder until the thunderous chorus melted into sand and water and became almost otherworldly. For the twenty Gadrauhts, this meant only one thing. A promise. That the end was only their new beginning. Theirs, but also the new beginning and final unity of all their peoples that they desperately needed.

When their prayers finally fell silent, they quietly set off south on a journey of nearly seven hundred miles.

Nubia, former Kushite lands, spring, 249 AD
Villages north of Meroë, on the east bank of the Nilus River

Solitudines Africae, the vast desert of North Africa, was actually an extension of the Libyan Desert to the south, and for many, it was an impossible place to live. Yet, it was teeming with life all along the Nilus River. There were no distinct differences between the deserted and fertile land along both banks of the river, all the way south to the vast forests. Trade routes between Roman Aegyptus and the Aethiopian lands flourished at all times, and the grain, linen, and wine that traveled from the north intertwined with the gold, ivory, ebony, and animal skins that came from the south. It was also a major route for the animal and slave trade, starting from the ancient port city of Adulis on the Mare Rubrum, mainly towards the Roman port city of Leptis Magna on the coast of the Mare Internum in Roman Libya.

In contrast to the geographical landscapes, the way of life changed dramatically beyond the borders of Aegyptus and further south. The Nubian villages and small settlements felt poverty and dependence on the river most acutely. Even so, such hardship could not be seen on the faces of the people who lived there. For the most part, they were happy and unburdened by the complexities of the imperial way of life in the north.

However, a year ago, the serenity abruptly gave way to great sorrow. Just a few miles north of the city of Meroë, once the imposing capital of the Kingdom of Kush, on the edge of three connected villages stood a dozen round, hastily assembled wooden huts. They were large and without any furniture, capable of accommodating up to a hundred people each. The outbreak that broke out last year quickly decimated the population of all the Aethiopian nations miles to the south.

Deadly diseases commonly spread in this part of the world and often recurred every two or three generations. This one, however, was different from the ones from the past. Oral traditions of local people have never mentioned such a large number of victims. The death toll was up to a hundred each day, with as many new infected coming from the south. Those same tales taught people that the only way to end the crisis was to isolate the sick. The only solution was to ease their passing. To let them die. To burn the dead. Compassion and care for the sick only meant more sick people. The illness did not discriminate and was quick. To fight this, the only way to stop it is to be faster than the disease. To deny it the opportunity to spread further.

That's what her mother told her every time. This morning, as she had every morning for the past six months, Cora sat on the veranda of the most isolated shack in the northernmost part of the settlement facing the desert, sobbing quietly. She felt deep down that the way her mother had advised her to do was deeply wrong. She knew there had to be another way to fight it. She wanted to help at least the few who had responded well to the treatment. She herself had been lying in this hut just three months ago and survived. The potion worked, but mostly here, in this place where the children were housed. However, even in this place, the potion was effective only for those who had arrived before showing the most severe symptoms. Those who haven't waited too long.

"Cora!" She heard Aster calling her from inside. "Come quick! It's Himmat. I can't hold him!"

She stood up and wrapped the silk scarf her mother had left around her face and the tightly woven Nubian cloth around her entire body. She pulled on Greek-style oxys mittens, made entirely of soft tunics, and went inside.

Aster knelt behind the teenager, wearing the same as Cora and holding Himmat tightly. He was having convulsions and was kicking back and forth uncontrollably. His face was covered in blood, which was coming out of his eyes and ears.

Cora sat at his feet and held his hands tightly. The attack passed after a few moments, and Cora stood up and grabbed his legs. "Come on. We have to get him out of the hut."

"No!" Aster shouted a little louder than she intended. "He's not there yet. We have to try a double dose of karkoumic! To apply the powder more..."

"Aster..."

Aster's dark brown eyes were filled with tears... Her younger brother had woken up and lost consciousness several times in the previous days, but he showed no signs that the medicine would help him. His young and strong body had fought much longer than those in the other barracks. Aster had nursed him for almost ten days, but although he had been fully conscious for a whole week and had even helped Cora and Aster with the other children, a few days ago he could no longer stand on his feet. Himmat soon developed a high fever, shivering even while unconscious, a severe headache and sore throat, and just a day later, severe stomach pains with vomiting and diarrhea appeared.

"No! He still has a chance! Oshi was like him. He was vomiting for days, and now he's back! The big dose helped him!"

"Aster..." She approached and hugged her gently. "No one came back after the bleeding started..."

"I know..." Aster burst into tears. "But he is my little brother... Please, Cora. There must be something we could try?"

"If he comes back, try giving him the tea again. If not, mix the root powder with olive oil and rub it where the fever is the highest." Cora reached into her inner pockets and pulled out a small clay pot filled with yellow powder. "But, Aster..." She hesitated, not knowing how to put into words what Aster had already learned by helping her in the children's hut since Himmat arrived. "Just... try to keep him away from other children. The disease is now out through blood and sweat."

The huts were built without doors. Instead, the walls were only three feet high, and the space from the top of the wall to the roof, which was just stacked dry leaves and light wooden slats, was empty all around the hut, allowing for free airflow.

Cora turned to Aster before she left. "Please take care of yourself. Keep a safe distance and don't touch anything with your bare hands!"

Her mother's cabin was not far from the children's hut. Cora went straight inside, which consisted of two rooms, one where the two of them prepared medicine and food, and the other where she spent the time for rest, which she had less and less of with each passing day. The disease came in waves, and at first, when it first broke out, there were large numbers of infected people who came from the southern villages. But there were periods of hope when only a few sick came, and even days when no newly infectious people appeared. But the previous days had been the worst. The disease seemed to be changing. She began to notice new symptoms, and many newly infected people were dying more quickly. The pain was more unbearable. Even the children, who had been more tolerant, were becoming more and more resistant to her treatment.

"Oh, Mother! I can barely take this anymore!" Cora cried out loud. "I wish I had your strength. I miss you so much..." The previous night had been hectic, with only a few hours of sleep. She was exhausted and quickly sank into her uncomfortable wooden chair next to the small table where two open scrolls had been for weeks. One was her personal notebook, where she kept a daily journal, trying to describe and sketch what she experienced every day. The other was "De materia medica," written more than a century ago by Pedanius Dioscorides, a Greek physician who had spent his entire life in the Roman army.

The scroll was opened to a section where Dioscorides described various herbs from the eastern provinces that were effective in reducing fever. The renowned physician explained that he used a mixture of baked egg yolk and safranum, or krokos, to treat eye inflammation. Her mother told her that Greek soldiers used krokos in baths to treat wounds, and Dioscorides claimed that karkoumic root is even better and not just for reducing fever.

Born in Peiraieús, for as long as she could remember, Cora had accompanied her mother on her travels wherever her knowledge, gained in the famous Great Library, was needed. She was a brilliant physician and always on the go. They had been in the port of Adulis a year and a half earlier when they heard the first rumors of a new and strange disease that had come from a settlement near the vast forests on the very southern edge of Aethiopia. They were in the city, waiting for the large Roman corbita that usually docked here on the Silk Road toward the Kingdom of Serica. Merchants often brought medical supplies and herbal remedies from the Far East, which they exchanged for the more common products from the mining settlements in the Roman provinces up north, but they often stopped here for ivory.

She sighed heavily and glanced out the window at the approximately 5,000-square-foot Karkoumic plantation. "I think it’s ideal for building a camp here." She recalled her mother's words vividly. "It's isolated, the air is dry, the river is close, and the land is as fertile as it can be."

It wasn't difficult to convince the elders to start building huts here. They provided people to help them not only with the construction but also with the planting. Her mother firmly believed in the healing properties of karkoumic. She was well-versed in its use in treating high fevers and various types of infections in soldiers and ordinary people. In the past, she traveled to the ports of the Silk Road from time to time, constantly looking for different varieties of this special plant.

They thought they had enough karkoumic to start with, but they never expected such a large number of infected. It took six months for the plantation behind their hut to be ready for the first harvest, and until then they had to ration the potion only to those who came with the first symptoms.

But it didn't help as her mother had hoped. True, many young and strong people, including Cora, have managed to recover with the help of the treatment. However, this success rate represented only a small fraction of the people who came daily. For others, the treatment merely extended the time until death became inevitable. After the first symptoms appeared, the fatal outcome occurred in just two weeks. When the first harvest arrived and they could finally rely on larger supplies of karkoumic, the duration until death was extended to as long as a month, although the number of recoveries remained low.

Cora's mother sent messengers south, spreading information about how to treat contagious people, urging them to send them as soon as they noticed the first symptoms, but even that was of little use. Some villages were up to five hundred miles away, and the journey to them was too long.

"There's nothing more we can do." She said one evening when they returned to their hut. "We must warn the world."

Cora snapped out of her thoughts, took a small sip of Karkoumic tea, and went outside again, heading toward the other huts to wait for the new ones.

The Guest Star

2025-08-22T04:31:00.050-04:00

The story follows two students of the Great Library of Alexandria in their scientific search for knowledge at the end of the second century AD, portrayed from a slightly different perspective and beyond the commonly accepted clichés in Roman Empire history. The Guest Star is also a historical adventure in which ancient Roman and Chinese cultures intertwined at the start of the Silk Road, several years before the first major civil war erupted after the death of Emperor Commodus. The main character is based on the life of Herodian of Antioch, a Greek historian and author of "History of the Roman Empire since the Death of Marcus Aurelius", in which he describes the reign of Commodus, the Year of the Five Emperors (193 AD), the age of the Severan dynasty, and the Year of the Six Emperors (238 AD). Herodian had no scholarly pretensions at all and wrote only about the events of his time or those he witnessed. His distance from Rome made him independent, unbiased, and uncritical, and his only book is a volume of vivid information that is fascinating to read.

The following preview of 'The Guest Star' includes the prologue and the first chapter. I sincerely hope you enjoy reading it. "The Guest Star" is featured on Amazon's Kindle and Paperback after evaluation by several beta readers in the months prior to its release.

Read preview on Amazon

PROLOGUE

Alexandria welcomed early December following an unusually warm autumn. The year 938* of the renewed Roman calendar was about to expire, and Hero was anticipating that the next one would be the most challenging in his entire life. He celebrated his birthday today, and within the year he was expected to complete his first master's degree program at the Great Library. A day after reading Ptolemaîos' Almagest, the scroll he was fortunate enough to find in the Antioch atheneum, Hero knew that Alexandria had to be his next destination. He had spent the past five years on campus and now he felt he had reached a turning point. Hero came to the realization earlier today that the weight of his obsession with Imperial history and the tales of the past was becoming heavier by the day, and that he needed to move on. He made his final decision here, lying on a little carpet in front of the southern city walls, gazing up at the starry sky. With his own papyrus and quill, he would set off to explore the world as soon as his course was over. Rome first. All roads lead there anyway.

"Here's our birthday boy!" He could hear Cassius's hulking baritone coming from the dune beside him. Hero waved at him a little embarrassed. He didn't intend to avoid hanging out with his best friend tonight, he simply needed some time to himself to reflect on the last year.

"Did you know there's a new play by the Greeks at the beach theater? Everybody's talking about it." Cassius and Lucia appeared behind him, carrying a bottle of wine and three cups. "What's wrong with the Pharos promenade? I thought you'd be there tonight."

"The fire is too bright. From the beach, I can't see Mars." Hero said and moved to make room for the couple. Cassius was a few years older, but their minds were nearly the same age, with similar interests and aspirations to visit Rome the following year. Lucia was one of the smartest girls in the class, and Hero always envied Cassius a little because of the two of them.

After pouring the wine, Lucia added some hot water and a dash of sea salt. "It's from Cass' grandfather." She gave him a kind look with her beautiful dark eyes. "The best wine you can taste anywhere in Bithynia and all the eastern provinces."

Lifting his cup, Cassius stroked Hero's shoulder and coughed to gain attention. "To Herodian of Antioch, a future citizen of Rome and the youngest public servant in the history of the empire. May the ink he always carries in his left pocket never run dry!"

"Thank you, Cass." Hero said with a boyish grin. "I know I wouldn't be here if it wasn't for your support. I owe you a great deal. To our friendship!" He raised the cup and gulped it down. The wine was sweet and tasty, but he knew what more than one cup of it might do to him. His gaze fell upon Alexandria's southern fortifications. "It will be hard to leave this city. It's amazing that it even exists. When it's all over, I'm going to miss it a lot."

After emptying their cups, they took a seat on Hero's carpet and looked toward the invisible horizon to the south. Though tainted by the faint glow of the city lights and the massive lighthouse fire to the north, the blackness was sufficient to see the entirety of the active sky above their heads.

"So you're here for Mars?" It only took Lucia a moment to locate the bright reddish dot a dozen angles to the left. " What is it about tonight that makes it special, Hero?"

Hero produced a piece of papyrus that showed the complex curve of his observation of the wanderer. Along with each point he drew, he included the date of observation. "For the past two years, I have been coming here once a week in an attempt to understand the movement. It's incredible... Mars appears to be determined to reach the horizon this year. Take a look. This is from two months earlier, before a slight backward motion, and then the wanderer furiously went back on the original course. It's like, I don't know... Although not last year, Mars did the exact same maneuver two years ago. In fact, last December, the path of movement was quite different. I'm trying to figure out what's causing her to..."

"Her?" Cassius cut him off. "You know it is named after the god of war himself?" He laughed in an odd way. "Your bloody wandering star has nothing soft or feminine about it. Only signs of future wars... Mars has never been a good portent. The scrolls are full of it."

"Cassius, you know you're an idiot sometimes?" Lucia looked at him the way many of their astronomy teachers did when they talked about superstitions and tales. "Not even the centurions believe that anymore."

"Yes, they do." He continued to stare at the sky while he replied. Though his scientific intellect was unable to put the riddle behind him, it was evident that he was not fully at ease with religious folktales and legends. "So you are saying that Mars is heading for the horizon? Where precisely?"

Hero glanced at his drawing for a moment before pointing. "Right about the..."

As his finger moved toward the sky, a faint spot on the horizon started to glow quickly. In a matter of moments, it had grown to be twice as big as Venus and much brighter, shimmering and glittering in a variety of colors, but primarily orange and white.

Lucia screamed.

They slowly stood up and were frozen in time for a long while. In the absence of Luna that night, the night sky was surreal. The newcomer appeared to have taken the sky from the other stars and was waiting ominously at the edge of the horizon.

Apparently with Mars quietly moving towards it.

Out of nowhere, a gentle breeze swept over the dune, causing a slight chill in the air. It was Cassius who reacted first.

"You still don't believe in bad omens?"

DEPARTURE

Alexandria, 8 months later

Lucia picked up an excerpt of a scroll from the floor, one of several that surrounded Hero, and read it aloud: "There is always a divine omen that might foretell times of crisis. Sometimes the star remains visible during the entire day and night, encapsulated in rainbow colors, or another one comes extended to an enormous length and seems to be hanging in the middle of the sky." She gave him a confused look before taking another. "Before the war of the deserters the heavens were ablaze." She gracefully hopped over a stack of papyri fragments, multiple open scrolls, and what appeared to be ancient, reddish-colored clay tablets, and kneeled to confront Hero. He appeared to be completely unaware of her presence as he gazed at the piece of papyrus he was holding in his hands. Taking it away from him, she exposed a text that appeared to be rather old. The text was written in Greek and Latin, and a significant section of it was inscribed in pictographs.

"You become obsessed with that portent. Hero, you must let it go." She sat down and gave him a friendly nudge on the shoulder. "It disappeared four weeks ago. Whatever it was, it's gone now. Perhaps it was simply one of those jokes that the gods play on us. We may be too insignificant to understand..."

"It was not a portent."

"What else could it be?"

Hero snapped out of his thoughts and looked around. He became aware of the scattered books and documents and began to collect them. "It was there for eight months, fading in and out, like a fire." He gave her a direct look. "It was far too detailed and long-lasting for a simple explanation, such as portent. They are usually... I don't know. They make their appearance, and then... well, they disappear not long after that. Like shooting stars. Or bloody Luna."

"Come on..." She tried to sound positive. "You discovered it on your own in the scrolls. The heavens above always appear as a warning to the people below. That's how we've always been taught." She paused in the middle of a thought. "I mean..." Lucia averted her gaze to hide a tear. "When my father went to that war... that morning, at the door, when I saw him for the last time, I knew I would never see him again." She turned her attention back to him. "I just... knew. I don't know why. Or how."

"That was different." He gently wiped a tear from her face. "I know how much you loved your father. You just... You just didn't want him to go away. That's all."

She got to her feet and wiped her dress, more out of habit than to remove the dust from the marble stairway, the place she knew she'd find Hero. He was always there when he was doing research or reading books from the library. While the public reading room was always packed with students, its main purpose was to facilitate debate and discussion rather than to provide a quiet place for reading.

"You're probably right. We need to pay more attention to the reason. We can be blinded by our emotions." Lucia helped him pick up the books and documents that were lying on the floor, then handed the papyrus with the pictographs back to him. "Where did you find it, anyway?"

"It was in the Ptolemy's 'Geographia'. In his Greek manuscript. This is his handwriting. It was not part of the book, but most likely inserted at a later point in time."

"Did you manage to find out what it means?"

He picked up the note and gave it a quick look for a few moments.

"It means I have to go to Naissus."

"What?" Lucia watched, confused, as Hero had already disappeared around the corner. "Wait! Hero!" She ran after him. "But we're leaving for Rome the day after tomorrow! We made an agreement with Cassius' grandfather. You know that! He made all of the arrangements."

"There's a road to Rome from Naissus, too." Hero's voice could be heard echoing down the hall. "I just need to find somebody. I need some answers."

She knew better than to follow him any further and came to a stop at the gate as she saw him enter the scroll room. She stood there for a while, unsure of what to do.

"Where in the name of the gods is Naissus?"

* * *

Cassius was not happy to leave Alexandria. He loved it here. The last three years were the best period of his life. He enjoyed listening to all the history lessons and engaging in philosophical conversations with the students and teachers.

True, he often argued with old-school historians who believed history was nothing more than a collection of factual stories and that future generations should not study and learn from their forefathers' mistakes and triumphs. He was aware that he could be stubborn in defending his position at times, but understanding historical events is not always easy. Particularly if they occurred centuries ago.

Occasionally, he would spend long hours with his closest friends discussing a specific war or trial that took place in a distant province or in Rome itself. Such as those that occurred in Dacia or Iudaea during the previous century, or all the events that occurred during the hazy period following the death of Marcus Aurelius.

If he had been born during those times, he knew exactly what he would have done. Most other students, on the other hand, did not give more than a few second thoughts when the primary subject was the history of the Roman empire, whether it was recent or distant. When he attempted to participate in a more in-depth debate with others, they ignored him, usually with deceptive excuses.

Even Lucia told him that he was overly biased in his interpretation of historical accounts. Maybe she was right, maybe he was too emotional on occasion. Nevertheless, the Alexandrian period in their lives was coming to an end, and the new chapter would begin in Rome as soon as next week, which he was very excited about.

Cassius stared at his baggage, wondering if he had packed everything, when Lucia burst through his room's basic wooden door.

"Hero is not coming." She failed to hide a sort of 'I told you so' expression on her face. "I've just talked to him. He is going after the clues from the scrolls."

"Where?"

"I'm not sure, he was vague when I asked him." There were so many bundles and travel bags, and Lucia had a hard time finding a spot on the bed to sit. "Cass, you know we're going to need two extra horses just for your luggage! Have you grabbed the entire scroll shelf from the peripatos room?"

Cassius rolled his eyes, as he usually did when she said something like that. And lately, it had happened more often than he was willing to admit. He wasn't sure what that could mean. Lucia was more important to him than any other girl he had been seeing before Alexandria. He thought he knew her well, yet she was constantly surprising him. He wanted to respond better, but in the end, he merely shrugged and went for the exit.

"I'll talk to him. Please don't mess with my stuff."

* * *

He found him in the dining room after searching every room in the Caesareum and Serapeum buildings. Hero sat alone on the long table, with only a few military-looking scrolls open in front of him. He was taking notes from one of them when Cassius sat down next to him a moment later.

"Cohorts of Roman archers in the Upper Moesia region from the first century" Cassius read the title from the scroll. Along with a date that stated that it was almost a century ago, Hero's note contained a name and the military rank of a person. Cass grabbed the note from him.

"Tiberius Claudius Valerius, pilus prior, Cohors I Cretum, stationed at Timacum Maius, prior to the Dacian wars, a.d. IX Kal. Mai. DCCCLIV A.U.C." Cassius read aloud. He flipped the note revealing a second inscription. "Tiberius Claudius Valerius, n. Hierapytna, Crete, u.c. REG⁠·XI-INS·⁠V, Naissus, Moesia Superior."

"Since when you are interested in military history, Hero? Who's Tiberius Claudius Valerius?"

Rummaging through the books open on the table, Hero found an open scroll and in a few moves unrolled it to the section titled "Κλαυδιου Πτολεμαιου Γεωγραφικης Υφηγησεως - βιβλιον πρωτον". He rolled it couple of chapters further to the section "Δαρδανίας - δ΄ πόλεις Ναϊσσός, Ἀρριβάντιον, Οὐλπιανόν καὶ Σκοῦποι", which was the last entry in the chapter and before the next one began there was a small papyrus inserted to it with almost illegible handwriting and strange vertical icons.

"I found this note in Ptolemy's book. There was a brief Greek translation, and it was written in some letters that were used in ancient civilizations. Like pictographs from Aegyptus. It's possible that it dates to a time before the ancient Greeks, or perhaps further back in time. This document was signed by the pilus prior centurion of the cohort with the initials 'TCV.' It was not difficult to find him in the library. It's not much, but it's a start. The question is, where did he get it, and is there any other information out there? Explanation maybe."

Cassius looked at him in disbelief.

"It was eighty-five years ago. He is dead, Hero." He got to his feet. "After such a long period of time, there is nothing to discover. Just let it go, would you? Let's go to Rome. You belong there. With us." Cassius tried to be compassionate but failed. "You became obsessed by what we saw. It was a message from the gods, some sort of prophecy of Rome's future. Nothing else."

"If it was meant for Rome, why couldn't it be seen from Rome?"

"What?"

"In the previous few months, I asked a lot of people who had traveled from Rome to Alexandria. Nobody witnessed it. Not even the sailors from the north. It could only be seen from here and further south."

Cassius stared at Hero for a long moment, thinking about it.

"It was an omen for Alexandria, then... Have you heard the rumors about a new religion from Iudaea? They claim that they will eventually arrive in big numbers here at some point in the future. From what I've been told, they may be aggressive. They consider Rome to be their only enemy."

Hero stood up as well and began packing the scrolls and his inscriptions. He was aware that Cassius might be right. He came upon a group of religious followers of Valentinus, an Alexandrian philosopher who, a few decades ago, began actively teaching the new dogma about a divine entity that incorporated a human form and who, after being murdered by Romans, resurrected to the heavens. He came across this group not too long ago. That evening, while he was walking along the promenade alongside the lighthouse, they were, to put it mildly, rather intrusive toward him.

"I know there's some truth to that... But you know me, Cass. We witnessed something extraordinary. If there's a way to learn more about it, it's worth a try."

Cassius gave him his best friendly smile. Despite their slight age difference, Hero was his best friend here. But he was right, Cassius knew him well. Whenever Hero had something on his mind, he was aware that there was nothing he could do about it.

"The note. Can I see it again?"

Hero reached into his pocket, pulled out a copy of the papyrus, and handed it to him. Cassius took a good, long look.

"Νεόφοιτος αστήρ ἀνατέλλω." He read it with a heavy accent. "My mother is Greek, and I thought I had learned all the variations from the classic period, but this particular writing..." Cassius stopped for a moment. "What does it mean?"

"The new rising star."

* * *

Usually there is not much of a difference between the hot weather of late summer and the first half of September in Alexandria, but this morning was exceptionally cool. Small boats that were anchored in the port of Alexandria were being tossed around wildly by the wind that was blowing from the sea. Even larger merchant ships, which were also tied in the second row of the dock, were not immune from the dangers posed by the morning storm. Despite this, many sailors and port workers continued their daily routine of unloading ships by passing each other bags of spices and amphorae of varying sizes, most of which were loaded with wine and olive oil, as well as crates of grain and meat.

"Hero!" An echo of Lucia's voice could be heard across the bustling port as she made her way through the crowds and stacked merchandise on the quayside and the wooden platforms that were located at the entrance of the docks. She was on her way to the commercial section of the port, which was one of the largest in this part of the Mare Internum.

This morning, most anchored commercial ships were sturdy corbitas. These were bulky vessels with a stout hull up to 20 gradus' long, inherited from the classic Greek period, more than capable of carrying half a million libras of weight. If it was possible to squeeze inside, they could carry a whole family of elephants. Because of the way they were built, the corbitas could sail even in extreme weather.

Lucia stepped onto the stacked boxes at the beginning of the first pier and searched for Hero among the dozens of dock workers. After doing the same thing in front of the next three piers, she was eventually able to recognize him in the distance. He was engaged in conversation with the ship's captain, clearly trying to persuade him to board the ship for its return trip, wherever that might be.

"Hero!" She shouted as she made her way towards the end of the pier and the corbita that Hero was standing in front of. The wind was howling, and he was struggling to keep his dark hair from concealing his face. The bald captain of the ship finally shook his hand, and Hero turned to go back ashore. At almost the same time, rushing towards him, Lucia bumped into a sailor who was organizing the workers and almost fell into the sea.

"Lucia!" Hero hurried over to take her hand. He couldn't help but smile as he watched her stand up in a comical way. "What are you doing here?" He guided her to the side of the pier, where there were fewer workers around. "I mean, Alexandrian docks aren't exactly the same as the promenade. It may be dangerous, and I'm not talking about the slippery pier."

"I know..." Lucia held on to the small wooden dock's pillar with her free hand. "I was looking for you at the dorm and the dining hall. Cassius' grandfather has arrived. They want to plan the trip to Rome and the details for tomorrow."

"I am not coming with you two, Lucia." Hero tried to conceal signs of emotion on his face. "I've just booked a ship across the sea."

"I know. I saw you did."

"Why are you rеally here?"

"I..." After a little hesitation, Lucia raised her gaze to his eyes and peered into them. "I thought you would leave without saying goodbye."

"I would never do that. The ship will set off the next morning." He offered her a second hand, and she took it. Her long black hair was a jumble in the wind, and her dark eyes were unusually perplexed, yet her entire appearance reflected what Hero had always thought of her, a rare blend of brilliance and beauty. He knew Alexandria and the library would not be what he would miss the most when he departed tomorrow. But that's probably for the best.

"Come on, let's go to breakfast."

* * *

In every library building, there was a breakfast nook that was a part of the dining room. In this area, all of the food was arranged at a single huge table, and the students were typically engaged in active conversation while standing. It was more of a place where the events of the previous day were summarized, and some of the arguments that took place the day before were either concluded or continued.

But what Lucia and Hero discovered in the room after they had returned from the harbor was not merely a typical quarrel taking place in the morning. Gaius Augustus Dio, Cassius' grandfather and an old merchant from Rome, was sitting at the breakfast table, surrounded by Cassius and his classmates, as well as others from the library's history and philosophy classes.

"I am telling you, he is more interested in games than in all the political affairs of the empire." Gaius was in the middle of a conversation. "The last time I saw him, before I left Rome, he entered the arena like a Murmillo, only with a gladius and the smallest scotum shield. He fought five retiarius slaves, killing three of them. The man is really insane."

Everyone had heard of the new emperor's strange behavior, but it was unusual to hear it firsthand outside Rome. There was widespread anticipation that Marcus Aurelius would be succeeded by someone else. In the past, it was quite uncommon for the emperor's own son to be the heir to the throne. It was, to put it mildly, a source of irritation for Cassius, and he was unable to fully accept it.

"The rumor is that Commodus is not actually the son of Marcus Aurelius, but of a gladiator his mother slept with." Cassius took the stage with an unusual passion. "We are all aware of the things that have been said about Faustina. She was one of the few mistakes that Aurelius made. She was more equipped for a lupanar and was nothing more than a ..."

At that moment, Lucia left Hero's company and took a few steps down to the dining room floor.

"Cassius!"

She shouted from the entrance of the dining room and hurried to the nook as quickly as she could. She moved past around twenty students and gave him a light forearm squeeze. She met his gaze, and the two of them exchanged glances for a while before she finally found the right words.

"You know that it is illogical to debate about anything in the absence of evidence or reasonable doubt. This is not in the spirit of this place. We're meant to be scholars above gossip and rumor. This is not the library way. And it's not real observation and scientia."

"Lucia..." Cassius started but then stopped.

"Look." She could sense his hesitation. "I am impressed by the research you've done on Marcus Aurelius, as well as the historical point you have made regarding the reasons why empirical governments are currently more beneficial for Rome than the republic or pure Greek democracy. I couldn't agree with you more. I really do." Lucia raised her arms in the air. "But this... This is not you." She stopped, realizing she had gone too far in front of Cassius' friends and grandfather. She lowered her head. "Cassius, I am truly sorry. Please, can we go?"

"No... You are right." Cassius calmed down. "I am really sorry. You are totally right." He burst out laughing and faced his grandfather. "Gaius!" He hugged the old man and gave him a friendly punch in the chest. "Why am I always acting like this with you around?" He pointed toward him. "You've always been a bad influence on me."

He took Lucia's hand. "Come on, let's go. Let's go finish packing, and then we'll make the most of the last day we have here by doing something nice. How about taking a camel ride and having a picnic in the desert?"

"That sounds wonderful."

"We sail out tomorrow after breakfast." Gaius said. "Don't be late. It's a long trip. We should take advantage of this wind while it lasts."

"Don't worry, we will be there on time." After saying that, Casius and Lucia made their way toward the exit and the dormitory. As soon as he put his arm around her shoulder, they were back to being a couple engaged in vibrant conversation, as they were known to be in the circles of the Great Library. Cassius' laughter was sincere, and he was back to his usual self.

Upon arriving at the door, which was somewhat narrow, Cassius was the first to enter it and then vanished down the corridor. Lucia took a step behind him, but then stopped for a moment. She turned her head back towards the corner and the area behind the tables, but Hero was already gone.

* * *

Hero finished packing and waited until noon to transfer his belongings to the corbita. It was a cargo ship, and he made a nest out of crates and sacks inside the belly of the ship. He decided to spend the afternoon alone in his room before leaving early the next morning. The ship was set to leave the harbor at first light.

He went out in the evening to bid farewell to all his classmates and friends, including his teachers. In the hopes of finding Cassius and Lucia, he made the decision to go for a stroll along the promenade around the lighthouse. The windstorm had ceased, and the sky had cleared up by the time night fell. But they were nowhere to be seen. He thought that it was probably for the best.

In the morning, the wind returned, and at dawn, he left the empty library and headed for the harbor. He couldn't put into words how he felt about the last five years in the library and everything that happened at school. Even though it was without a doubt the most fantastic time of his life, he couldn't shake the feeling that he was emotionally depleted for some reason. He refused to think about it further because he was afraid of the answers.

Following his arrival on the fourth pier, he proceeded in the direction of the distant corbita. He tried to focus on his future journey and what was ahead of him, but he couldn't. He was experiencing a great deal of bitterness in his gut, and Hero once again refused to understand the reason for this. Maybe it will always be like that when one phase of life ends, and another begins. Maybe...

The moment he laid eyes on the ship, he came to a sharp stop and his gaze remained fixed. For a short period of time, the wind ceased, and a sliver of sunlight appeared through the clouds. It was a little surreal, but just for a moment, until he realized that all the bitterness he felt walking from the dorm to here had completely vanished.

Lucia was standing on the deck, with a tiny knapsack in her hands and a travel bag by her side.

Can I Change the World Alone?

2025-07-27T02:14:00.009-04:00

Can I, one soul among billions, truly change the world?

It is the kind of question that begs for a simple “no.”

And yet—how dishonest it would be to dismiss it so quickly,

as if a “yes” were foolishness not worth a second thought.

For saying “no” outright denies even the tiniest ember of wonder,

and saying “yes” assumes a world so perfect,

so pliable to desire,

that a single hand could shape its course.

But the world—

this world—

is far from perfect.

Perhaps it never was.

Not even in the days when humans were few,

and the earth breathed with more silence than smoke.

There was once a man—

just one—

who discovered how to summon fire from stone,

no longer needing to wait for a jealous sky

to throw a lightning bolt into the trees.

Later came another,

who saw in the quiet soil behind his home

a future full of golden grain,

and chose to plant,

rather than wander the wilds

gathering what grew by chance.

But not long after came others,

who dipped arrows in flame,

and aimed them at their neighbor’s fields

out of nothing but spite.

And when the mammoths had all fallen,

a man who had once hunted them

thought to keep animals close,

safe in pens beside his home,

no longer chasing shadows through snow.

Artists came too—

their fingers stained with earth and dreams—

painting their myths upon cave walls,

especially images of those who hunted mammoths,

but they never once sketched the man

tending his flock in the early dawn.

And then, cities rose.

And flags.

And languages that bound people together—

and others that tore them apart.

Some dreamed of harmony in shared speech,

but others forged weapons to silence every tongue

that was not their own.

Still—there were those I admire most:

those who saw the invisible threads of the cosmos,

who crafted wheels that turned without horses,

and wings of metal that sliced through clouds.

There was one who learned

that light moves faster than anything imagined,

and that even the atom, so small,

could be broken further still.

But knowledge does not choose its masters.

Others took that sacred learning

and shaped it into fire meant to devour cities—

dropping it from machines

that had once been symbols of flight and freedom.

And one man,

drunk on the illusion of his own blood,

marched toward conquest,

believing he was more than mortal,

waging war upon the world itself.

Then came the singers—

the dreamers—

those who believed peace might bloom

from long hair and guitars.

But soon behind them marched

a different song,

a different rhythm,

heavy boots on cold concrete.

All these figures blur now,

spinning through my thoughts

like ghosts in a restless wind.

But one thing—

one truth—

remains:

None of them, not one,

truly changed the world alone.

Not in its entirety.

What they changed

was the world they could touch—

the corner they called their own.

Yet even that,

small as it seemed,

rippled outward.

Not always as they intended,

but always, somehow, it mattered.

So now I ask myself—

Do I want to change the world?

To try, alone,

to offer something

that might bend history toward light?

But what if I’m misunderstood?

What if my gift

becomes a weapon in stranger hands?

Could I bear that weight?

Maybe it is better not to change the world alone.

Maybe the world should not be shaped by one hand,

but by many—together.

Because in the end,

this world does not belong to me.

It belongs to all of us.

a poetic prose essay and cover image by OpenAI, based on an original text & idea

Uranium Bike Tour

2023-08-27T09:33:00.062-04:00

After the Second World War, another wave of the arms race began to develop in the world. With the first nuclear power plant built in Obninsk back in 1954 in the former Soviet Union, it became clear that atomic weapons and the nuclear industry overall would mark the second half of the twentieth century. Today, about 80 years after the first nuclear reactor ever built, "Chicago Pile-1", the current numbers for the commercial use of nuclear power indicate that 50 countries operate about 220 research reactors, with as many more operating power plants in the majority of these countries. The military numbers are expected to be even higher, and the fact is that nuclear submarines and ships can be equipped with multiple nuclear reactors on board. Some of the aircraft carriers can have up to eight of them.

Uranium Bike Tour, impersonation (ai)

Of course, all those nuclear reactors require nuclear fuel to operate. In most cases, it is the enriched uranium (U-235) isotope produced from the uranium concentrate powder called yellowcake, which is an intermediate step in the processing of uranium ore and is usually produced directly in the mines. During the 1960s, world demand for uranium ore skyrocketed, and many countries joined the ride. Serbia was no exception. The only deposits of uranium-oxide-rich ore in Serbia were found near the small town of Kalna, some 50 km east of my current place of residence, and in a short period of time, shrouded in secrecy, the uranium mine operated fully and produced a respectable amount of yellowcake (UO₂) and even a significant amount of metal uranium as well. **

In the beginning, even the miners believed they were digging ore for the production of copper and gold. Only three people in the mine knew the truth. After four years of production, the mine was closed, the pit buried, and the operation moved to a more profitable location. The old mine is still there, inaccessible as it is, and the old buildings are still standing but locked and sealed. The soil and aerial environment are tested regularly, and even though the radioactivity is slightly above normal and most likely deadly deep in the ground, on the surface the entire area is a safe environment to live in. However, many believe the site's story is not over and that more ore veins are still waiting to be found.

The 'Uranium Bike Tour' path and elevation

The recent expansion of tourism in the Balkan Mountains has led to the rebuilding of the road, making it perfect for cycling. The local cyclists, both professional and amateur, and those, like my son and me, who are considered to be enthusiasts, love the path for testing the limits, entertainment, and health. Last weekend we spent more than six hours on our wheels enjoying a pretty hard and elevated track, which is 58 km long and more than 400 meters higher than the starting point and the highest point on the way. We call it the "Uranium Bike Tour", and it's something we started to do last year. In the image above, there are both trajectory and elevation lines. It starts from the city of Niš, passes through the small town of Svrljig, goes through several villages on the way, and crosses the phenomenal landscapes almost the entire way.

The video below uses a GPX file of the entire track, which Fabien Girardin's amazing tool from his Rumbo* website created. As for the track itself, to be completely honest, we didn't go all the way this time because we rode our heavy mountain bikes with fat tires, which are not the best option for this kind of trail. However, when we turned off the asphalt to reach this weekend's destination, the dirt road ride was almost effortless.

The 'Uranium Bike Tour' GPX video illustration*

Geographically located in the heart of the Balkan Peninsula, just 27 kilometers away from Niš, the small town of Svrljig acts as the capital of a relatively small Serbian area surrounded by exactly 38 villages, which we passed three hours after departure. The entire complex of its southern mountain range is called the 'Svrljig Mountains', and the track is following the path just next to them. The highest peak, Zeleni vrh, is elevated at 1,334 meters above sea level and was the impressive site just next to the road on the 40th kilometer of the tour.

In just half a century, the human population of the area has more than halved, with more and more villages containing more empty houses and those in which more people die than are born. Rural areas here are similar, and while cities are growing, the economics and agricultural fate of small villages worsen each year. To me, it's far away from elementary logic, and I only hope this trend will change in the future.

The landscape from the village of Vrelo, near Svrljig

The same goes for the final destination of the tour, the once small town of Kalna, which flourished in those half-decades when the mine was active and where 800 miners lived in prosperous mining settlements. It is now almost a ghost town with nothing but memories of the good times 60 years ago. The last remaining mine worker in Kalna, who was a locksmith in the mine at the time, Hranislav Grujić, and who is now in his late 80s, remembers the good times: "When we pass the tavern, the waiters laugh: "Here are the miners; it's going to be a good day!"

But there were incidents as well; after all, working with the yellowcake is not the safest job in the world. He remembered the time he was in contact with the ore: "They bathed me with a hose in a special chamber, and they set fire to all of my clothes. I was sent on paid leave for two weeks, even though I felt fine. I just had a bit of a headache and felt faint. But it was nothing terrible, really."

At the entrance of Svrljig (Сврљиг, cyrillic) town

Anyhow, the 'Uranium Bike Tour', the cycling route, as we affectionately called it, is actually not for the faint of heart. And when I said it, I meant it literally. With a significant elevation change along the way and maybe a slightly longer route than usual, it requires endurance and strong muscles as well as professional equipment. At the end, it demands commitment and love for this kind of achievement. When we were on the path for the first time, somewhere in the middle of the journey, Viktor asked me how I felt. After all, I am not in my prime years, and he wanted to know if I was all right. It was a simple question, and I wanted to give him a good answer. So I thought about it a little longer than usual.

"I feel free." I said.

Refs:
https://gpx.studio/
* https://www.rumbo.world/home

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Nuclear_reactors

https://css.umich.edu/.../energy/nuclear-energy-factsheet
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Yellowcake
** https://core.ac.uk/download/pdf/236959929.pdf

Camera Obscura

2023-07-13T07:51:00.051-04:00

Perhaps it's a little weird for me to begin an article with a glimpse of a romantic movie, but I can't think of a cooler way to start today's topic. When I came up with the idea to write about "Camera Obscura", the first thought that came to my mind was a movie from 1997 called "Addicted to Love". Of all the movies in this genre, only a few are at the top of my mind, and this one, directed by Griffin Dunne with Matthew Broderick and Meg Ryan in lead roles, is definitely the best one I remember. In short, Sam, an astronomer who, in an attempt to win back his girlfriend, turns his astronomical tools into specific spy equipment and, by using his dark-chambered pinhole camera, manages to observe what is happening in the building across the street in real time. What he used to achieve this effect is a principle behind Camera Obscura—a method to project the light through a small hole and create an image on the opposite wall inside a dark room, tent, or box. Something first observed and described by Mozi, a Chinese philosopher, around 400 years before Christ.

AstroMedia 'The Sun projector' cardboard kit

To better understand what camera obscura really is, think of an eye, a small, almost spherical chamber where light enters via the cornea and through a small pupil, with the iris controlling how much light enters the eye. Light then passes through a lens, which can change its shape to focus the image. The image is projected through a transparent, gel-like substance to the back of the eye (retina and macula), which contains light-sensitive cells. The light travels in straight lines from its source, and because of this, the image is formed flipped and upside down. However, the brain receives the image via the optic nerve and interprets the scene correctly.

Just like in the movie and inside the eye, we could also create our own camera obscura, which in Latin means "dark chamber." Imagine a large room completely darkened by, for example, placing cardboard sheets over the windows with a small, shaped pinhole in the middle of the cardboard. The light from the outside will enter and paint a great image on the opposite wall of the objects from the exterior. Upside down and flipped, but that could be fixed by utilizing a couple of mirrors. Check below in references for the tutorial made by PetaPixel*, an online publication covering the wonderful world of photography, or many other DIY videos from YouTube. There was also a camera obscura exhibit made by Robyn Stacey**, an Australian photographer and visual artist, that turned the Australian city of Brisbane on its head in stunning photographs.

Convert your room into a giant Camera Obscura by PetaPixel*

Today, as a continuation of the small astronomy thread on MPJ, I had my hands on a second AstroMedia kit (of three), and this one was made with the camera obscura principle for observing the Sun, its sunspots, planetary transits, and eclipses. Despite its size, it was surprisingly quick and easy to put together, or more likely, I am becoming much more experienced with paper gluing. :-) Surely, compared to the previously assembled Galilean telescope replica, it was easier to paste more non-round parts than before with the telescope's multiple tubes. Nevertheless, the Sun projector surprised me with its rather large size.

However, the kit is not an ordinary pinhole camera. Instead of a simple aperture of the camera obscura, the solar projector has a lens and two convex mirrors to choose from that work together like a Galilean telescope from the previous post. It is designed to provide higher magnification, and a plane mirror redirects the image to a comfortable viewing position. Best of all, it has a cardboard-made Dobsonian base and can be adjusted to any height between 0° and 90°. Furthermore, on both sides, there are quarter circles with degree scales, which determine the angle between the position of the sun and the horizon, which helps in calculating the height of the sun. With additional apertures, it is possible to reduce the opening and amount of light that enters the box. Smaller apertures can make sharper images. It's a surprisingly comprehensive astronomical tool.

Phases in assembling the Sun projector

To be honest, I was a bit skeptical that all the parts were glued perfectly and aligned for the light to be beaming exactly from the objective lens through the convex mirror to the plane mirror and toward the white screen, but the "First Light", as the astronomers like to call the time of the first observation with brand-new equipment, showed the Sun disc amazingly clear and focused. Now I have to wait for the next eclipse to test it with, which will be in March 2025. Or for the next Mercury transit nine years from now. Unfortunately, the transit of Venus will not happen again in this century. In the meantime, I will definitely play a little more with it and test all its features, including observation of landscapes, as in the summer there is plenty of light, so stay tuned for more information about all it can do.

Unrelated to this project, it reminded me that observing the sun could be very interesting and enjoyable. Once, when I was watching the Sun through the reflecting telescope with a solar filter, a plane transited the Sun disk at the same moment as my observation of one of the previous Mercury transits, and it was so intense, to say the least. Imagine watching Mercury slowly pass through the sun's disk when suddenly the black shadow of an airplane passes the disk in less than a second. I was stunned for a moment, trying to comprehend what exactly happened. I would probably still be puzzled by the event if the airplane hadn't left a contrail behind it, which stayed for a while in the field of view along with small Mercury and a couple of sunspots.

Details from the Sun Projector's "First Light"

Amazingly, Camera Obscura could be dating even back to the past, all the way to the prehistoric settlements. There are theories that prehistoric tribe people witnessed the effect through tiny holes in their tents or in screens of animal hide, which might have inspired them to start with cave paintings. It was not away from logic that they would intentionally make the pinholes in order to monitor the exterior for potential dangers from within their shelters.

Anyhow, it was fun building the kit as well as writing about it. Nature is definitely full of wonders, even with something so simple to test, build, and understand, like it is with monitoring light behavior within a camera obscura. By using the same principle, it is possible to make a small projector that uses a light from a smartphone to project it on the wall, and even the additional mirror is not required if the smartphone is positioned upside down in the first place. We played once with that as well, and the result is in the refs below.

Galilean Telescope (AstroMedia cardboard kit #1)
https://www.mpj.one/2023/07/galilean-telescope.html

What Do Jupiter and Mercury Have in Common?
https://www.mpj.one/2019/11/what-jupiter-and-mercury-have-in-common.html

Transit of Mercury
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=e2yuXbUdj6o

Shoebox Projector
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WAsvUbysEk8

Ref:

https://astromedia.de/Der-Sonnen-Projektor

https://rmit.pressbooks.pub/colourtheory1/chapter/biology-of-the-human-eye/

* https://petapixel.com/2014/05/12/diy-tutorial-convert-room-camera-obscura/

** https://www.bbc.com/news/world-australia-34386956

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Addicted_to_Love_(film)
https://mymodernmet.com/camera-obscura/

Galilean Telescope

2023-07-10T12:26:00.023-04:00

The knowledge and manufacture of lenses were known since the time of the old Greeks (the word "optics" came from the Greek word ὀπτικά, which means "appearance") and later in the old ages with Egyptian scholar Alhazen, who made important contributions to the study of optics in general. In Europe, the lenses arrived around the 13th century and immediately triggered the invention of the first eyeglasses. However, one important discovery had to wait three centuries later in order to set off a wave of new discoveries in the field of astronomy. The invention was made by Hans Lippershey, the spectacle maker from the Dutch city of Middelburg in the Netherlands, who in October 1608 tried to apply for a patent for a tool he described as an aid capable of "seeing faraway things as though nearby". It consisted of convex and concave lenses in a tube capable of magnifying objects three or four times. For strange reasons, the patent was rejected, but the new instrument immediately attracted attention. Now known as a spyglass, the invention ushered in a new era in astronomy and was the foundation of today's refracting telescopes.

Cardboard replica of the original telescope made by Galileo

Only half a year later, in the early summer, Galileo Galilei at the University of Padua near Venice started to build his first telescope based on the one Hans' made. He managed to design and build telescopes with increasingly higher magnifying power for his own use as well as for presents to his patrons. Galileo was a skilled instrument maker, and his telescopes were known for their high quality. Just like the initial spyglass from the Netherlands, his first telescope was basically a tube containing two lenses, but he managed to enhance the power that magnified objects approximately nine times with his first designs.

Even though Galileo perfected the manufacturing of lenses and telescopes—in later years he managed to produce over a hundred telescopes, some of them with magnifications as high as 33—only two have survived and can be seen in the Museum Galileo (Museo di Storia della Scienza) in Florence. One of the two, especially designed for Cosimo II de' Medici, Grand Duke of Tuscany, with gold-embossed leather, probably had (with initial lenses from the end of 1609) magnification power of around 20. The limiting factor of these early refractors, especially those with higher magnification, was their small field of view, but still, it allowed Galileo to see that the Milky Way is just a multitude of millions of stars and that the Moon's surface was not smooth and perfect but rough, with mountains and craters whose shadows changed with the position of the Sun. He saw the phases of Venus throughout the year and the most interesting fact that planet Jupiter was accompanied by four tiny satellites that moved around it with distinctive proof that not everything in the heavens revolves around the Earth.

Phases in assembling Galileo's historical telescope

This particular gold-embossed leather telescope from the Florence museum was the model for the AstroMedia cardboard replica kit I got my hands on last weekend. It was advertised as "With this historically accurate cardboard replica, you can experience firsthand the great research achievements of Galileo, which he achieved despite the optical performance of this telescope, which is modest by today's standards". All I could say after two days of carefully pasting pieces of paper one after the other was that I couldn't agree more, especially at the last moment when I pointed it to the one-kilometer-away sign of the neighboring shopping center and clearly read what it said. I can only imagine where Galileo pointed his first telescope and what his initial reaction was.

While Galileo did not invent the telescope in the first place, his contribution toward their use in astronomy and science earned him two phrase coins: Galilean telescopes, which now represent a popular name for a refraction telescope type, and Galilean moons, now referring to the first four of Jupiter's natural satellites.

Jupiter's moons as seen through modest reflecting telescope compared to the view
from a small refracting spyglass similar in size to Galileo's original telescope

Unfortunately, I cannot make any astronomy photos with this replica; after all, it is made of cardboard, and fixing it on the moving sky is a mission impossible, not to mention its extremely small field of view, which is perhaps less than a centimeter in apparent terms, which would provide only troubles for focusing the camera through it. For these reasons, I decided to embed a photo of Jupiter's moons as seen with a modest reflecting telescope (the one you can see in the background of the first image above). Below you can find a link to the YouTube video of the entire event we created a couple of years ago when Jupiter was close to Earth. In the upper right corner of the photo, I also included a small view of how Galileo might have seen Jupiter and its four large moons. It is what can be seen with a decent refracting spyglass or powerful binoculars, which, in terms of magnification power, stand at the level of Galileo's scopes.

Camera Obscura (AstroMedia cardboard kit #2)
https://www.mpj.one/2023/07/camera-obscura.html

Jupiter Moons (zviktor22):
https://youtu.be/VTEsXEx-tnE

Ref:
https://astromedia.de/Das-Historische-Galileo-Teleskop
https://catalogue.museogalileo.it/index.html

The Prequel to the Prequel’s Prequel

2023-06-14T12:27:00.019-04:00

Hmmm, I think I got that title wrong. I wanted to write something catchy, but obviously language puzzles are not really my thing. In the case of Star Wars storytelling backwards in time, this triple 'prequel' looks fine, but again, if I put all the main Jedi characters of various ages in chronological order, i.e., something like this: Gella > Avar > Anakin > Luke > Rey, then it does look like I missed one more word, 'prequel,' in it. Or... well... if we consider Rey's story to be the only sequel to the first prequel's main story in this thread, which started with "A New Hope", the very first movie of the franchise that initiated it all... then I could be correct after all. Right? Oh, darn it, let it be... So, let's explore the latest prequel in the galaxy far, far away and long time ago, minus 150 years.

Minus 150 years means 150 solar cycles of Coruscant, the capital of the Republic, an entire planet evolved into one giant city before Phase I in the Star Wars canon, described in the books, started with "The High Republic: Light of the Jedi". Phase II consists of two (adult) books, "The High Republic: Convergence" and "The High Republic: Cataclysm", and it is placed officially around the year 382 BBY (382 Coruscant years before the battle of Yavin within "A New Hope").

After finishing the books, I couldn't shake the same feeling I had after watching "Rogue One: A Star Wars Story". Due to the early history of VFX in creating the movies, the very first trilogy came, from this distance, not visually great and had a hard time conjuring the "wars" part from the title. Don't take me wrong; when I was young and saw "A New Hope" for the first time, I watched it with my mouth wide open almost the entire duration of the film. The second trilogy jumped into the trap of using too many visual effects, which, as a result, looked more like a fairy tale than anything else. The latest trilogy came to fix things a bit, but still, in my mind, only "Rogue One" rendered the war as it should be—as a brutal and believable one with tremendous action and a fabulous ending. In the world of the "Star Wars" books that belong to the same franchise canon, "The High Republic: Cataclysm" provided the same feeling as "Rogue One" once did. The latest book fully justified the entire "Star Wars" premise. There were moments during the reading that I couldn't believe that words alone were capable enough to portray the battle of such epic proportions using only the reader's imagination and nothing more.

Behind the pen of the latest novel was Lydia Kang, and compared to the prequel book and those three from Phase I, "Cataclysm" is perhaps the best of them all. Sure, Lydia's storytelling is perfect with lots of characters well described, but she was in luck—the story that ended the first phase of the High Republic era had it all: the already mentioned fast-paced action described in great detail, interesting and respectable villains, and multiple storylines from protagonists belonging to the "good guys" (or to the Light side of the Force, to be exact), including both the Jedi and people originating from the Republic forces and those from planets Eiram and E'ronoh, whose backstory is the backbone of the entire phase. If we add young(er) Yoda and Yaddle fully included in the story, the author really had an easy task to pack one of the most interesting Star Wars books to date.

Surely, the end is not concluded, and we are left with many loose ends on both sides (villains and heroes), but that was to be expected. As hinted in previous books, the Leveler (a Nameless species), with the ability to overwhelm force-sensitives and nullify their connection to the Force, is something I am sure we will encounter again in the future. The future of Star Wars canon, that is, as it is absent from the movies, and I guess their fate will be resolved in the void after Phase 2 and the Battle of Yavin, or the time described with 0 BBY.

To me, one of the most interesting facts after reading all five Star Wars adult books from the High Republic times and those I also read that don't belong to the canon or directly to the official franchise was the need to picture all the species from the galaxy far, far away. The history of watching movies helped a lot, but I definitely needed to do a little research to find out what all the species look like to allow my imagination to be as accurate as possible while reading.

The images I chose to illustrate the text of this blog story are not entirely accurate, as they belong to different Star Wars concept arts, but the High Republic stories are still very young, and we will have to wait for the future movies for more photographic details. I, for one, would definitely want to see at least one movie dedicated to these events in the upcoming years.

Image refs:
https://www.starwarseclipse.com/
https://thedirect.com/article/star-wars-officially-brings-back-yoda-concept-art
https://rare-gallery.com/concept-art-lightsaber-jedi.html

Saronic Islands with Rackpeople

2023-05-20T08:19:00.034-04:00

I have no sailor material in me. At all. I don't mean qualified skills that are fascinating and easily acquired through study and experience. I mean literally and physically, my body is simply not built for the navy. I realized that when I entered those 4D/5D theaters for the first (and last) time, about a dozen years ago. I remember anxiously waiting for that sophisticated motion ride system built into movie theater seats to come to my city, and when it finally arrived, I was among the first in the ticket line... And I was the first to get out of the small theater with a terrible motion sickness thundering throughout my entire body. I should have guessed what was going to happen after seeing the title of the short film had the word "rollercoaster" in it. I fully recovered more than 24 hours later. After that, I never stepped into any movie theater with more than a 3D label on its front gate. Sometimes, even in those, I check if the chair is fixed solid.

To be honest, I knew the outcome would be like this because it has happened to me many times at sea during summer vacations, and every time I promised myself the dancing boat floors would never see my foot again. However, in my case, it's just that all those self-promises are easy to reject when new experiences and adventures knock on the door. In that spirit, when my good friend Lasse, the head of Rackpeople, one of the leading IT companies in Copenhagen, asked me to join the cruise around the Saronic Islands this May in Greece, without thinking, I said yes. How could I say no to seeing all the wonders of the Saronic Gulf, its crystal blue waters, the amazing history of Ancient Greece, and the place where Themistocles' outmatched fleet defeated the forces of King Xerxes and drove the Persian army back to Asia, never to try again to conquer the Greek mainland?⁣

Bastions with old cannons at the Hydra entrance

The cruise started on the island of Hydra. I boarded a catamaran yacht, medium-sized but impressive in every way. Fortunately for me, the first two days of the cruise passed with extremely calm seas and enjoyable spring weather, which is usual for the Saronic Gulf at this time of the year. As for the island itself, two things immediately caught my eye. The residential area is so compact that there is simply no room for any type of motor vehicle, and by law, cars and motorcycles are not allowed (except for garbage trucks). To travel outside the port town, the only means are horses, mules, donkeys, and water taxis. The second site was bastions on the port entrance with lots of cannons still pointing toward the sea. They originated in the 18th century in order to protect the island from assault by the Ottoman fleet and pirates during the Greek war for independence.

At first, I thought that the island's name was connected to the legendary myth of the Lernaean Hydra, the multiheaded water monster who was slain by Heracles in his second labor, but unfortunately, very little is known about the ancient times of the island. The name in Greek is simply derived from the word "water" (ὕδρα). Although, in classical Greece, Lerna was a region of springs and a former lake near the east coast of the Peloponnesus, which is close to the island of Hydra, just across the strait, and in ancient myths was represented as one of the entrances to the Underworld.

The view from Poros Clock Tower

The next destination, and where we spent the first night, was the well-known tourist destination, the island of Poros. It lies on the other side of Argolis, the eastern part of the region of Peloponnese, where it acts as the Saronic Gulf's southern arm. The Poros' main port is separated from the Peloponnese only by a 200-meter-wide sea channel, and my main impression in the morning was that of the poor little ferry, which is breaking the perfect silence connecting Poros with the town of Galatas across the strait every half hour. Sometimes carrying only a couple of people across. I'm sure a future bridge would be something worth building.

Fortunately, and I mean it when I say it out loud, we had ex-Royal Danish Navy sailors at the helm of every boat. If it weren't for them, we wouldn't have running exercises in the morning, and if we hadn't had a morning run, we wouldn't have passed through the phenomenally narrow streets of the small town that stretch through the entire hillside by the marina. Running (and sometimes walking while catching our breath) down and up the small streets and countless stairs from the harbor to the famous clock tower made me think and better understand the life in such small towns where you can feel the ease of living life to the fullest.

Rackpeople at the Moni island and photos from the mainland

The next day was absolutely the best one on the cruise. It started with the sailing competition between the two boats. In the best spirit of the teambuilding activity, we competed in sailing between Poros Marine and Moni Island, the strange islet in the middle of the Saronic Gulf that absolutely hates humans, but let's get back to that later. One would think shutting the engines down and sailing at a speed of, on some occasions, less than one nautical mile per hour and sailing only by using maps, compass, and wind arrow is ridiculous, but it is the complete opposite. It requires full team effort and cooperation, just like in tech companies, and it was one amazing experience. From the navigation part, through speed and time tracking, steering the ship, and hard work with two sails, everything had to be synchronized and precise, and when inexperienced IT people do it, the result is exceptional and filled with all possible sailing phases, from challenges in understanding the basics of sailing and navigation to all the comical moments we went through but also all those proud moments when you realize you've done something right.

As for the Moni island, half of it is rocky and barren, but what was most interesting was its other half. The only inhabitants of that part are a family of wild peacocks, deer, wild goats, including Cretan ibexes, and, of course, many squirrels. Humans are limited to the only seasonal beach accessed only by sea, including us that day. The animals are not afraid of humans and wandered free even on the skirts of the forests, where ruins of humans's attempts to inhabit the Moni are visible all over. The old men of Aegina Island across the bay tell various stories about the history of the island that always include curses, inexplicable destructions, three fires, and an ongoing struggle between the divine forces and human stubbornness. Telling in whispers, they say that always when people tried to inhabit the island, no matter if that was in the Byzantine period when they tried to turn the island into a dairy farm or during the 1970s, when the island served as an organized camping spot, it always ended in large fires that devastated the little island to the full.

The spirit of Rackpeople after a long but a great day

But the sightseeing of the Moni after the cruise competition wasn't the end of the day. It continued with one amazing lecture given by Erik, the second ship captain, about leadership, relations between competence and confidence among team members, and all the connections between tech companies and sailing. The epilogue of the competition itself was unclear and ultimately not important; what mattered the most was great spirit and team-building closure, which ended in singing popular songs led by the first ship captain, Lasse, who surprised us all with his musical talent, which was not left unrewarded even by the people on the neighboring yachts with thunderous applause.

Unfortunately, in the spirit of the Moni Island hatred for people, that night came really nasty weather from nowhere. In the morning it turned into a small windy rollercoaster that woke me up with the first sunshine. I came on deck to find a spot where I could pass it as best I could, but soon it was the 4D movie theater all over again. Only this time it lasted several hours, and I sadly realized that the cruise for me is over, as I knew I would need more than a day to recover. After a couple of hours of 'pros and cons' measuring, with great regret, I opted out of the remainder of the trip. After all, being on the boat is all about being part of it; otherwise, it is something else entirely.

The Seaview from the hotel Methanion

At the next marina, a taxi took me to the nearby port town of Methana, where I missed the last ferry by an hour, so I went straight to the first hotel, where I took the night to recover. There, I witnessed a warm hospitality by the hotel owner, something I only felt before in Greece, especially in my childhood when we were visiting the country frequently on family vacations. Serbia and Greece have had this unusual friendship between the two countries from time immemorial. There was no part in the history of the two countries with any animosities between the two, let alone any conflicts or wars. So it's always nice to see a genuine smile on people's faces when I say where I am coming from. Anyhow, when she heard I am Serbian, with the warmest smile, she said, 'I will give you the best sea view in Methana'. And the best it was.

It turned out Methana is not an island at all. The best I could describe it is a 'wannabe island' peninsula. It has an island shape but is connected to the Peloponnese with a narrow land bridge. Methana is entirely of active volcanic origin, with the last eruption occurring in the 3rd century BC. Due to the pressure of the plate of North Africa, which slid under the Asia and European plates, there were active tectonic movements on the line of the Aegean islands, which include Methana, Milos, Santorini, and Nisyros. As it seems, the future of volcanism in Greece is not yet written, and Methana is one of the volcanoes that unfortunately has not yet said its last word. The last great eruption in Greece was the Minoan super-volcanic catastrophe that reshaped the island of Thera in the middle of the second millennium BC and devastated the entire Mediterranean for years.

Aegina port seen from the ferry

As a central island of the Saronic Gulf, Aegina shared the rich history of ancient Greece with other independent states. It was inhabited since the Neolithic and was at the peak of power around the 7th century BC and after, due to its strategic position. The Aegina economy was strong and competed with Athena with silver coins as a currency recognized in other states. They were rivals for many years, and Aegina even made a close collaboration with Persia until the battle of Salamis (480 BC), when the island ultimately sided with Themistocles. The rest of the history of Aegina's independence was full of turmoil, but its glory at the end faded out through numerous invaders and occupations in the face of Macedon, Romans, Venice, and Ottomans. Today it is a holiday and weekend resort for Athenians and tourists worldwide. Just next to it, Agistri, a small pine-clad island with pristine beaches and crystal-clear waters, shared the history of neighboring Aegina Island and considered being part of its statehood. It was unfortunately not a part of the cruise. Perhaps in the years to follow.

Finally, and historically, the most famous island is Salamina, where the already-mentioned battle of Salamis took place two millennia ago. It is the largest Greek island in the Saronic Gulf, and due to its close proximity to Piraeus, it is not the best choice for vacation time. If we add the fact that the northern part of the island is a home for the largest naval base of the Hellenic Navy, it is clear that the island is not as popular a tourist destination as the other islands, but it is far from lacking destinations worth attention. If I happen to visit it in the future, on the top of my list would be monuments dedicated to Salamis' ancient battle and the Cave of Euripides, where the playwright Euripides came to write his tragedies. The man was described as a misanthrope who avoided society by lurking in that cave, but even so, his 19 plays that survived the time since then are still performed and studied today over the distance of more than two millennia.

Concept art of the Battle of Salamis by artist Court Chu*

If I were to try to sum up the past week and describe my first cruise longer than a day in three words, it would definitely be "an extraordinary experience". Especially the part about learning new things about sailing and trying to be part of a team in close cooperation with colleagues. Being in Greece for the umpteenth time is also special to me, and having the opportunity to talk to locals is another dimension of the travel. Spending most of the time at sea limits that part of the experience, but in this case it was intentional and focused on teambuilding, which is perfectly fine. I am sure there are many methods to achieve this, and sailing is definitely among the top five.

Image ref:
* https://www.courtchu.com/300rise-of-an-empire

MPJ refs
https://www.mpj.one/2017/07/the-minoan-legacy.html
https://www.mpj.one/2012/07/aegean-sea.html

Company ref:
https://www.rackpeople.com/

Refs:
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hydra_(island)
https://www.greeka.com/saronic/hydra/sightseeing/hydra-bastions-cannons/
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Lernaean_Hydra
https://www.rahhalah.com/moni-island-greece/
https://www.methana.com/en/geography-of-methana/geology/methana-volcanoes.html
https://www.britannica.com/place/Aegina-island-Greece
https://www.visitgreece.gr/islands/saronic-islands/agistri/
https://travelthegreekway.com/things-to-do-salamina-greece/

Interview With a Teenager

2023-03-19T05:03:00.034-04:00

There are many periods in one person's life. To me, they all seem distinct from each other. Referring to those farthest in the past, in my mind, it was almost like they didn't really happen to me. Some of the choices I made before, from this perspective, looked like some other person made them on my behalf. Especially in the first couple of decades. But that's the point of growing up and all the changes that happen from early youth to adulthood. Later, we are left with tons of memories that we look back on most of the time with a smile on our faces, sometimes with a little sadness or shame, and once in a while with a confused look as if it happened at all. But one thing is certain: everything that happened, exactly how it happened, defines us as we are today.

Viktor, testing the drums before 'Some Like It Hot,' theatrical play

Of them all, no single period in life compares to the one called the teenage years. I remember those years. Vividly. If I could choose just one phrase to describe all that's happening during those seven years, it would definitely be 'trial and error'. It was just like tasting the life that was thrown at me for the first time. Understanding it. Embracing it. Maybe a little changing it on the way.

But enough about me; the rest of this post is about my son Viktor and the continuation of the 'Interview' series, started with him being seven and ten years old in 'Interview With an Expert' and 'Interview With an X'. Anyway, these are 15 questions for his 15 years I selected to ask him today. I'm really proud of all his answers and his way of thinking.

Describe yourself in 5 words or less.
Determined, ambitious, loyal, generous, and honest.

What's the best part of your day at school? Why?
P.E. and all of the breaks in between subjects. Because I get to talk to my friends normally and rest a little bit.

If you could invite three people, living or dead, to your birthday party, who would you choose? What would you talk about?
Einstein, Jesus, and my father. We would question Jesus.

Imagine you’re the president, and you need to have 3 people to assist you. Who would you pick and why?
I'm not really into politics, so I don't know whom to pick.

What have you learned in life that you feel will be the most useful?
Motivation isn't real, but discipline is. Try to be as optimistic but as realistic as possible. Never give up.

If you could change anything in the world and make it idealistic, what 3 things would it be and why?
I would get rid of all the governments; there would be no more countries, and everyone would speak the same language.

How would you explain Earth to aliens?
I think there is a lot of diversity to this question, but let's say in the case that we come to them. I would most likely try in some way to use physics, math, and chemistry to explain Earth.

Do you think it's better to have one great skill you're an A+ at, or many skills you’re a B at, and why?
This question is very easy because if you had only one skill that you are A+ in, then the rest of the skills would not be so great... So that is horrible... I would rather have many skills that I'm a B at. I could easily improve in skills that I like. And I also have a lot of options if I ever change my mind.

Imagine you're the teacher tomorrow at school. What are 3 things you'd teach that you think would help make school better?
Self-defense, how to be a better person, and showing the kids the real world.

How would you explain the word 'love' to someone without using the word 'love'?
Umm... Make this with my hands. 🫶

What is the most important thing you learned in school NOT taught by a teacher?
The world isn't black or white. It's gray.

If you could travel back in time 3 years, what advice would you give yourself?
Make me proud.

If you could grow up to be famous, what would you be famous for?
I would be famous for motivating other people to become the best version of themselves and showing how to really be successful.

If you had enough money that you never had to work, what would you do with your time?
There is no money in this world that would make me not work.

What do you think your life would look like 10 years from now?
I hope I will be successful in the future and be more capable.

So there you go. When selecting the questions, I knew they should not be too detailed or too serious. Nevertheless, they were supposed to be appropriate for the age, and to make sure, I performed a little research first to find the right ones, which I thought were the most suitable. Sometimes, even the shortest answer to an apparently entertaining question shows a lot.

I wonder, if I had a chance, how I would answer them back then. Hopefully not too different.

Are We All NPCs?

2023-03-15T12:29:00.039-04:00

Let me answer with what I think right away. To me, this is not one of those yes-or-no questions because it's impossible to tell. Simply put, the theory behind the question is most likely unprovable. Not from the inside anyway. 'Simulation Hypothesis' and the phrase 'non-playable characters' are relatively new concepts, born not that long ago, when digital computing came to be fast enough to produce graphically demanding multiplayer games sophisticated enough to hint at this question and the probability that we might also be inside one of those simulations. And to dispute the question about the nature of reality is quite useless, because everything that surrounds us, no matter how strange we think it is, can also be real and not part of the code. Even if our reality were simulated, its origin would be extremely difficult, if not impossible, to prove. By design, nothing inside the simulation could be able to see the lines of the code, only the outcome of its work. In order to say that we are all NPCs, something extraordinary has to happen. Something unexpected, like a bug in the code. A glitch that would clearly break the laws of physics.

On the other end, in the future, near or far, the engine behind simulated characters in games would be even more sophisticated in a way that all characters would be able to easily pass Turing's test. To act just like you and me. The AI behind them would be so advanced that they would be equal to the human players. Or much better. So to speak, one game in particular has already achieved this goal. The Chess. When asked about chess engines, Magnus Carlsen, the current world champion, said exactly this: "I find it much more interesting to play humans. And also, of course, now that they have become so strong in a game like that, I wouldn't stand a chance". I love chess, but I have to admit I disagree with Magnus—playing against computer bots became more and more indistinguishable from playing real people. In the most popular chess.com engine online, I solely play against computer personalities behind the Komodo and Stockfish engines, and I have enjoyed them for years. But I agree that playing against humans is much more fun. For now. Let's revive this talk again in a decade or two... Or three... When chess bots develop more of their personalities. More non-chess features. A sense of humor, maybe.

In any case, the main problem with simulation theory is that it lacks a definition of reality itself. What it really is. Is this what we are living in? If it is simulated, where is it simulated from? If we skip all the philosophical views so far solely based on Nick Bostrom's book 'Are You Living in a Computer Simulation?' and stick to the physics realm only, I think that simulation of any reality or anything at all requires two prerequisite conditions to start with. One is that there is a high probability that the system performing the simulation should be distinct from its simulation, and the second is a large complexity behind it, something that Jonathan Bartlett from the Blyth Institute explained with "The problem with that [simulation in general] is that it always takes more stuff to simulate something than the thing you’re simulating".

Additionally, we are kind of looking at the simulation hypothesis today through the gaming lens, in which simulated reality must have 'real' players from the original coder's reality. But what if our reality, if being simulated, is not a multiplayer game? What if it is a zero-player game? Or not a game at all? In that case, we all could be NPCs, and there would be no real players. Because original and simulated reality could be two completely incompatible actualities. What if simulated reality is not a computer program at all? What if it is something else entirely?

I know I post a lot of questions here, but bear with me. If we follow the logic of a more complex, upper reality, which is distinct enough from its simulated creation, what would I think of first? For me, it's shadows in Plato's 'Allegory of the Cave'. In his famous work, Plato describes a group of people who are chained to the cave, facing a blank wall. All they saw were shadows projected on the wall from objects passing in front of a fire behind them. The shadows are the prisoners' entire reality, while the objects before the fire represent the true forms of the items that they can only perceive through reason. Plato goes further elaborating on his mind experiment, but for our topic, let's focus on the shadows themselves. They are just two-dimensional images of something coming from the upper third dimension. They are distinct from the original objects and certainly less complex and the product of a comprehensive setup.

Well, the final question arises by itself. Is it possible to cast three-dimensional shadows of four-dimensional objects? Just like a square represents a cube from the third dimension, the cube could be just a shadow of a tesseract's fourth-dimensional counterpart. The casting in this scenario would not be as simple as in Plato's story, nor would the shadows be what we mean by the term, but it's definitely something worth giving a second thought. One hypothetical four-dimensional reality would be an ideal source of three-dimensional simulations, and there's even a scientific theory that 'casts' light in the right direction. It's called the 'holographic principle'.

The origin of the theory lies in black holes, and the best is to quote my fictional self from the 'Revelation of Life', a hard science short story I wrote a couple of years ago: "If Hawking was right, any black hole, no matter how massive, would evaporate over time. When that happens, all the information swallowed inside would be lost. The problem is that quantum dynamics is clear about it—nothing, especially information, can ever be lost." The solution to this paradox is that the information belonging to the objects swallowed by the black hole should not be part of the three-dimensional reality in the first place. The holographic principle states that "the description of a volume of space can be thought of as encoded on a boundary to the region", or the dimensional boundary surrounding the entire universe, while our familiar space-time continuum might be just a (holographic) projection of the entities and events located outside.

Finally, and to get back to the original titled question, in this reflection we indeed could be all NPCs in a hypothetical simulation originated from the upper dimension. Just like in a famous zero-player game invented by John Horton Conway, a mathematician from Princeton University, a simulated three-dimensional world can only be a setup, created with an initial state and left to evolve on its own. Just like we culture bacterial colonies in a Petri dish. Or it can be a more complex setup with added life forms driven by conscious artificial entities or even by 'real' people from the upper dimension. For the question of why such a simulation would be created in the first place, there is no good answer. The reality of a fourth (or fifth, sixth, etc.) dimension would be something we wouldn't be able to fathom right away. Or at all. Nevertheless, I thought about one simple reason and embedded it in the 'Revelation of Life', but if you are eager to read it, please watch 'Game of Life' first, a short film that precedes it.

Game of Life (Simulation story, prequel)
https://www.mpj.one/2016/08/game-of-life.html

Revelation of Life (Simulation story, a hard science fiction)
https://www.mpj.one/2020/10/revelation-of-life-part-one.html

Refs:
https://builtin.com/hardware/simulation-theory
https://mindmatters.ai/2021/01/jonathan-bartlett-on-why-we-do-not-live-in-a-simulated-universe/
https://chesspulse.com/is-magnus-carlsen-better-than-a-computer-2/
https://www.chess.com/terms/chess-engine
https://medium.com/@jacksimmonds89/are-you-an-npc-this-may-disturb-you
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Simulation_hypothesis
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Holographic_principle

Image ref:
https://www.imdb.com/title/tt0139809/

The War No One Wants

2023-02-18T13:37:00.033-05:00

Before the Great War, the prevailing sentiment in most, if not all, European countries was that victory in any major military conflict was guaranteed only if it was fought with a large, durable, well-trained, and modern army. The dawn of the 20th century established the environment in which countries entered the race to mobilize the largest part of the qualified population, to create faster motorized transport for troops and logistics, to use state-of-the-art communications and the greatest range of artillery, as well as to use various new drugs in medical treatments like morphine and even cocaine to boost the troops and fuel their fighting mood. Compared to 19th-century wars, new warfare was revolutionized and upped to the next level. By June 1914, the stage was set, and only a spark was needed to fire off the conflict.

But was it really inevitable? Was the military race alone enough to cause the conflict in which 20 million died and many more were wounded? Or did it need a plot to be played in just a specific order that would lead to the unavoidable horror? Did it take at least one party to actually want the war to happen? To honestly believe that a war on that scale could be won?

When asked if the Great War could have been avoided, Ronald Spector, professor of history and international affairs at George Washington University, said that ’if Sir Edward Grey hadn't been the foreign secretary in Britain, then Britain might not have necessarily entered the conflict. Furthermore, if German Kaiser Wilhelm II hadn't been the flaky person he was, then the Germans may have made different decisions, and in the end, if Austro-Hungarian Archduke Franz Ferdinand, who at the time was the head of the faction that wanted to avoid war, had not been killed, the outcome might have been different’. According to Professor Spector and many others, the real trigger for the First World War was indeed only a combination of these unfortunate coincidences that took place in the summer of 1914—military preparations, the alliances, the people in power—all of those steps that built one after another created the Great War.

In the aftermath, the war did happen, and to many, including me, the question was not who won it four years later but rather what stage it created in the following years. It ended the Austro-Hungarian Empire, the German Empire lost a lot of territory, and the Turkish Empire ceased to exist. On the other end, new statehoods arose along with a new wave of nationalism, as many felt they hadn't achieved enough for their sacrifices and losses. History books at the end of the war never really recognized the winner or the loser. It officially ended in the Compiègne railway car on November 11, 1918, and the final document was signed as an armistice.

But what about today, a century and a change after the war that could have been avoided and the war that allegedly nobody wanted? Is there a similar new danger we could repeat again? The one that, according to Ken Follett, could also be one tragic accident, all things considered. Is there a war that no one wants today? The one that could leave a permanent mark on the surface of humanity. The one that will not be fought in trenches and the one that will truly be worldwide this time.

I think we all know the answer to that question. Yet, just like before, and even though nobody really wants it to happen, it could happen nevertheless. Just like before, it only needs a plot that, if set in motion, step by step, spark by spark, decision by decision, can lead to the point of no return. Today, given what is happening geopolitically around the world, are we already walking that path? We already have everything the Great War had before it started. Countries have already been in the arms race for a long time—the race for ultimate supremacy and world military dominance. Army budgets are filled up to the roof. More than 10,000 nuclear warheads of various kinds are already in military stockpiles for use by missiles, aircraft, ships, and submarines. We also have questionable leaders like before, even flaky ones like in Professor Spector's description. Let's just hope we will have better luck this time.

However, in light of today's story, let's get back to Ken Follett's fiction. I am really a big fan of his work, and his thriller, "Never", is his vision of how the Great War could repeat today. In a chronological order of events that one by one led to the brink of a nuclear war, he amazingly described a fictional story that looks so real and so familiar. And so possible. He begins the book with a quote from a Chinese proverb, "Two tigers cannot share the same mountain", and it amazingly describes the entire book premise. I couldn't agree more with Stephen King when he said that "Ken Follett can't write a bad book", and I could only add that "Never" is definitely more than a book. One of his best. One of those that keeps you thinking long after you finish it.

Refs:
https://gwtoday.gwu.edu/was-world-war-i-avoidable
https://thediplomat.com/2014/08/the-great-myth-world-war-i-was-no-accident/

https://www.dw.com/en/author-ken-follett-on-the-war-in-ukraine-our-only-hope/

https://encyclopedia.1914-1918-online.net/article/drugs

Time Travel and Superposition in Dark

2023-01-25T07:15:00.033-05:00

I was no more than four years old when our car got stuck on a snowy hill decades ago. Everyone but me went outside to push to get us out of the frozen road. More people gathered from other cars to help each other, and soon everyone was engaged in a small rescue operation. That certainly didn't mean I didn't help—as well as others pushing the car from the outside, I did the same from the inside. From the back seat, I put my hands on the front and pushed hard. In my defense, deep down I knew that what I was doing was kind of weird and useless. At the time, I just didn't know why. I was just ashamed sitting alone and doing nothing. Well, like they say, with age comes wisdom, and now I know that what I did was physically impossible, just like in the case of Baron Münchhausen—when he got himself and his horse he was sitting on out of a swamp by pulling his own hair upwards. And just like in an old expression about an absurd and impossible thing one can do—if I were to pull the bootstraps on my shoes up, lift myself into the air, and jump over the fence.

In science fiction, the word bootstrap is also used to portray the impossible task in all the paradoxes that are always hard to understand. Within time travel, the bootstrap paradox is a theoretical paradox that occurs when an object, information, or human is sent back in time and becomes trapped in the infinite cause-effect loop in which it no longer has a detectable point of origin. For a simple example, if I somehow send a copy of this very blog post to my younger self before I write it in the first place, the origin of the text becomes utterly unknown. It exists in the time loop, and I become just somebody who typed it in. Yet, the text will still have my own style of writing and my own thoughts written down and not somebody else's. Hopefully, you will not find this case implicitly weird, because weird in this blog post is yet to come.

I have been aware of the existence of Netflix's 'Dark' for a long time now, but due to its scientific background and complexity, I knew it required continuous binge time to watch it, and last weekend I finally decided the time was just right, and I swallowed all three seasons in just three days. Like no other TV show, it was solely based on time travel and quantum superposition, and... in a word, it was outstanding. With lots of characters to follow through both space and time, it did require full concentration, but thankfully, due to the fantastic direction, script, and performances of all involved, it was more than understandable and enjoyable, to say the least. It is impossible to continue this without spoilers, so if you are eager to watch it first, this is the point of this blog post to stop reading, and I advise it strongly.

Anyhow, Dark's premise is all about bootstrap paradoxes. There are multiple plotlines in the show heavily embedded in time loops, just like my example of this blog post traveling to the past. If that was weird, imagine what this kind of paradox, involving time travel of real people and their intertwined stories, could do to your sanity only as an observer. On top of that, season one passed with very few or no special effects, and there was no reason for that either. In Dark, all the post-time-travel effects are already embedded in the future, or the present, from where they traveled back in time. For example, Helge already had all visible face scars that were consequences of Ulrich's time travel. Also, the stories about the murdered woman on the bottom of the lake were already socially spread even before Katharina was murdered in her own time travel.

Even though Mikkel's time travel was the prime story behind Dark, where he ended up being a father to Jonas, the main protagonist, for me the strangest and most ingenious bootstrap paradox is Charlotte, who was born in the future, traveled to the past as a baby, and became a mother to Elisabeth, who in her own future became a mother to Charlotte herself. The endless loop between them lies in the fact that they are both mother and daughter to each other. And even this is not the weirdest bootstrap compared to the entire Nielsen family. Martha and Jonas' child, who is in the show and the strangest character of them all, in his own time travel became a father to Tronte, who was Martha's own grandfather. This practically means that Martha's son was his own great-great-grandfather. In the aftermath, most of the members of the Nielsen family are practically the result of a direct or inherited bootstrap paradox and have to thank their existence to time travel itself.

To be honest, I was so perturbed and unsettled with all the relationships by the end of season two that I was not sure how they would come out of this at all. There were so many open loops with no indications how it could go any further. At that point, I thought that this show would go down the drain very quickly, or they must come up with something even more out of the ordinary to continue the story. And then, at the very end, in the last episode, came another Martha, who stood by the dead Martha and answered Jonas' question about where she came from exactly with "Die Frage ist nicht aus welcher Zeit, sondern aus welcher Welt". Well, I am not fluent in German at all, but I know a word or two, and in this case I knew very much the difference between Zeit and Welt. In the outcome, even before the subtitle showed up, I was left staring at the screen with my mouth wide open.

The final season introduced even more time travelers, both new and doppelgangers, but more importantly, the story started to unveil now with the introduction of the cause and effect of the quantum superposition mirrored in the macro world(s) and character's actions. In the quantum world, superposition means particles can exist in different states and even multiple places at the same time. The weirdness comes if we try to observe the process. At that instant, superposition breaks into just one outcome of their many. Just like with the double-slit experiment of light behavior* or in binary superposition with Schrödinger's cat in the show explained by H.G. Tannhaus in one of the episodes.

The difference between the micro and macro worlds, with time travel involved, was that in the macro realm it was now 'possible' to act differently in the same time loop and in one pass to choose one outcome and in the other a different one. That allowed for the same superposition collapse, but in two time loops to create two different Jonas' and two different Marthas and to even further complicate the intertwining situations now with three worlds involved. In the ingeniously written ending of the show, as I expected, time travel loops were impossible to untangle, and the only outcome was, again with time travel interfering, to save one world at the expense of the other two and, by doing so, to prohibit any time travel in the original world.

The ending of two worlds disappearing was just perfect and beautiful, and the very last scene explains which of all the characters survive existence and which ones were only products of either direct or inherited bootstraps and therefore not possible to exist in the final world.

* Reality of Double-Slit Experiment
https://www.mpj.one/2022/11/reality-of-double-slit-experiment.html

Strange world of physics and time travel at MPJ:
https://www.mpj.one/search/label/physics
https://www.mpj.one/search/label/timetravel

Refs:

https://www.astronomytrek.com/the-bootstrap-paradox-explained/

Dark refs:

https://www.thisisbarry.com/film/netflix-dark-the-bootstrap-paradox/

https://invisibledragon.home.blog/2020/06/28/dark-and-the-bootstrap-paradox/

Insights Discovery

2022-12-04T06:15:00.024-05:00

It's amazing how different people react to the same thing. Consider the famous question, "Is the glass half empty or half full?" What do you see inside such glass when you spot it on the table? The water or the air? This is, of course, not a school-grade sort of question. Actually, there is no right or wrong answer here. There's no definite reason to consider anyone thinking that the glass is half full to be overly optimistic or those who see the emptiness of the glass to be unreasonably realistic. It is just a point of view and nothing more. But it tells a bit about your character, or how Carl Jung, a well-known Swiss psychiatrist and psychoanalyst, defined it—your personality type.

The point of inquiries like this one is simply in the fact that if we ask ourselves enough questions, they would have the potential to unveil our personality type fully, or to a high degree of accuracy. However, we would need to be careful in both selecting the questions and defining all resulting personality types. There are numerous personality tests within psychology, and of those based on Carl Jung's study, the most comprehensive is the Myers-Briggs Type Indicator, which assigns you a value from four categories: introversion or extraversion, sensing or intuition, thinking or feeling, and judging or perceiving. One letter from each category is producing a four-letter test result. For example, if your test is resulting in a dominance of introversion combined with intuition while you are basically a thinking person with perceiving trait, you would be assigned an "INTP" personality type.

Perhaps most of the psychology in relation to personality types is based on Jung's "Analytical Psychology", the phrase he coined in 1912 when he published "Psychology of the Unconscious", his breakthrough study, which firstly relates to his split-up with Sigmund Freud after six years of collaborating in the field. In this book, he establishes for the first time that his new theory focused on the collective unconscious instead of Freud's conception of libido and the importance of sexual development. When he first read it, Freud muttered the word "heresy" and felt that Jung had "lost his way" from that point on. Perhaps, just like with the 'glass half filled or half empty', this dispute between the two extraordinary men from the history of psychology has no definite winner or loser. They might both be right, depending on the point of view. After all, the human mind is driven by a still mysterious engine we keep trying to fully understand.

However, what's interesting in regard to the Freud-Jung dispute is what Jung said some years after the split-up. According to Jung, the main difference between him and Freud was their personality types being introvert and extravert, respectively. Their attitude types were pretty much opposite, as the first type was persuaded by the voice of their inner self, while the second found their interest inexorably drawn to external things. In his book 'Psychological Types', published in 1921, he said that "since we all swerve rather more towards one side or the other, we naturally tend to understand everything in terms of our own type".

But, if we get back to the personality test, the most obvious question is, what would its application be? Other than in medical/psychiatric practice, I mean. Of course, we all know ourselves well, so there's no point in some test telling us what we really are. We already know that. If you have been friends with somebody for a long time, surely there is no need for any test to tell you the obvious about what you have already learned about your friend from the experience. Clearly, and maybe the only use of such a test would be to learn about the personality of someone whom you don't really know well. However, the test, by its nature, is extremely personal, and it naturally raises a wave of privacy issues that are in most countries protected by the law, especially after previous decades of the expansion of the internet.

Keeping in mind everything we know so far, what's left and where one such test could be more than useful is, no doubt, all kinds of business environments. The offices are, by definition, filled with lots of colleagues, and the advent of knowing everyone's personality type would benefit communication between people and enhance productivity significantly. Providing, of course, that employers and employees are fine with sharing their personality test results with each other.

Finally, at the end, we come to the titled personality test that was created exclusively as a business application. Based on Dr. Yolanda Jacobi's interpretation of Carl Jung's theory of psychological type, along with other theories from psychology, 'Insights Discovery' is a simple and accessible four-color model designed to help us better understand ourselves and others. If you check the above picture, the basic colors are divided between introversion/extraversion (vertically) and thinking/feeling (horizontally). The test itself is a 25-frame questionnaire of 100 word pairs, which, when completed, produces the Insights Discovery Personal Profile. Of course, no person is entirely described by one of the colors alone. After all, we are all a mix of different traits that we display differently based on different occasions, environments, moods, etc. Hence, Insight Discovery offers a total of eight personality types, which are shown in the center circle with four more types, which represent a blend of two colors.

Please find more details in the references below, as I won't go deeper into the science behind 'Insights Discovery' than this. However, if you decide to take the test, you will get a result printed in detail explaining your personality type on more than 20 pages, where you can find your key strengths but also potential weaknesses along with healthy tips for communication between types for both you and the others. What you also will get is a nice little colored Lego-like brick, which represents your colors. If assembled right, it shows your exact place on the Insights Discovery wheel, and it can do it for both your conscious and less conscious positions.

This little one below is mine.

Image ref:
https://www.salesforce.com/ca/blog/2016/01/psychology-of-sales.html

Insights Discovery provider by Michael Olsen's Betterways
https://betterways.dk/

Refs:

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Carl_Jung

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sigmund_Freud
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Jolande_Jacobi

https://www.unifypartnership.com/blogs/insights-discovery-an-overview

https://discoveryourself.com/personality-types/

https://www.linkedin.com/pulse/what-insights-discovery-clare-spratt/

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Psychological_Types

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Personality_test

https://www.theguardian.com/commentisfree/belief/2011/jun/27/carl-jung-psychological-types
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Extraversion_and_introversion

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Myers_Briggs_Type_Indicator

Reality of Double-Slit Experiment

2022-11-27T03:09:00.018-05:00

More than two hundred years have passed since Thomas Young performed the famous double-slit experiment as a demonstration of the wave behavior of visible light, and still its revelation has puzzled our sanity ever since. In short, if we shoot a beam of light at a panel with two small slits (less than a millimeter apart), the photons—elementary particles that light is made of—have to figure out how to get through the slits to radiate out the other side. If they were truly particles, like in the macro world, they would project a solid image of two piles on the background wall behind the slits. If they travel similarly to the waves, like water does in the macro world, the image would resemble a wave-like interference pattern: alternating locations, equidistantly spaced, where particles leave a mark on the wall.

Thanks to the outcome of the experiment, we know that light is capable of doing both. It always travels in a wavelike fashion, even if we shoot photons in a row towards slits, one after another. The quantum mechanics explanation is that photons are in superposition, meaning they can exist in different states and even multiple places at the same time. The weirdness comes 'only' if we try to tag particles with pass-through detectors in order to detect which slit they are choosing to go through. At that instant, they break superposition and continue to travel as macro-objects, just like bullets.

This is very similar to the coin flipping or well-known Schrödinger's cat from the macroworld analogy. If we use quantum terminology, these two are in a simple binary superposition; they both have only two outcomes, the coin ending either head or tail or the cat's version being either dead or alive. Superposition in a double-slit experiment is way more complex as far as the photons being in multiple places at the same time between the slits and the detection wall.

However, the weirdness is only present at the quantum level of the microworld, and in the case of light in the double-slit phenomenon, the puzzle is not the nature of how light travels but rather why it behaves the way it does in the moment of being observed. Certainly, it creates profound questions for which we still have no definite answers. The most interesting one is, did we find the puzzle here that shows us how nature really works? What is the reality behind the engine in the quantum world? More important is even the question: is this reality objective throughout the universe, or is it subjective and created for the observer only?

Let's think about the reality problem for the moment first. This behavior of breaking superposition for the sake of the observer is very reminiscent of graphically demanding video games in which the reality is never objective—the scenes are always rendered for the gamer's sensory inputs. If you play those kinds of games and decide to enter a closed room through the door, the room and everything in it don't exist at all until you open the door. Only then does the CPU start creating it for you, and there's a certain superposition of the room and your actions in it that breaks to only one outcome, depending on what you do.

Now, double-slit is too complex to test it this way, but binary superposition could be simple enough to create in the lab in quantum equivalent and monitor what happens. This is what the experiment made by Massimiliano Proietti and his team at Heriot-Watt University in Edinburgh tried to perform on a small-scale quantum computer made up of three pairs of entangled photons. The idea is to experimentally test Wigner's thought experiment of an observer of the quantum outcome being also observed by a second observer. The resulting statements of the two observers are that their interpretations of the outcome contradict each other. The same happens in the lab, with entangled photons in the role of non-conscious observers—the inequality in the data is definitely violated, which points in the direction that quantum mechanics might indeed be incompatible with the assumption of objective facts. To put it simply, multiple observers of the same event can have different outcomes as the process in superposition breaks in different patterns. Just like in video games, the reality of nature could also be subjective and rendered for the observer's eyes only.

Of course this raises more questions, and the main one is what "observation" and "observer" really mean. In quantum mechanics, an observation is defined as the interaction of two quantum states that can collapse each other’s probability wave function. In one way or another, this also means that by observing something, we disturb it to the point of ruining the process we are trying to understand. If we add a philosophical point of view, we can also ask ourselves, does consciousness play a role in the observation process? There's an interesting philosophical thought experiment starting with the question, "If a tree falls in a forest and no one is around to hear it, does it make a sound?" followed by "Can something exist without being perceived by consciousness?"

Well, if you ask me, consciousness or not, if we go this path with reflection to the original double-slit experiment, it is all going toward the direction that the unobserved world only exists in a sort of superposition state, all possibilities of all possible outcomes only waiting for an observer to disrupt it to the point of the ultimate collapse as the result of the reaction between the two processes and the observer. The light is no different; its wave-like behavior is its own superposition, only waiting for somebody to play with. Preferably with lasers and Lego cubes, just like in the above YouTube video. Science is fun, perhaps because it is so mysterious from occasion to occasion. I know I had tons of fun creating this video with my son a couple of years ago. Please find more stories within the physics thread of the blog in the below link.

Strange world of physics at MPJ:
https://www.mpj.one/search/label/physics

Science refs:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=h75DGO3GrF4
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Wigner%27s_friend
https://phys.org/news/2019-11-quantum-physics-reality-doesnt.html
https://arxiv.org/abs/1902.05080

Norse Valkyrie vs Slavic Vila

2022-09-03T03:08:00.030-04:00

It is hard to pinpoint the exact period in human history when the religiosity we are all familiar with today emerged and started to form itself with all of the colorful myths, supernatural stories, vivid deities, and numerous superpowered entities. It happened probably at some point around 10,000 BC in the same period of time when humans slowly progressed from being pure hunters and gatherers into the next stage of civilization and started to build modern settlements with domesticated animals and cultivated plants. No doubt, religiosity, superstition, and spiritualism existed all the way from the beginning in history when our ancestors started to paint cave walls, but only the Neolithic revolution and the invention of agriculture gave us enough free time to start daydreaming and to think outside pure survival. If we compare all previous beliefs with vignettes, we can safely say that the evolution of religiosity after Neolithic revolution began to fill volumes of graphic novels.

According to the theory, slowly after the beginning of the Holocene period, the first large prehistoric population of Eurasia that spoke Proto-Indo-European languages was formed. They were the ancestor of Indo-European languages and the source of Proto-Indo-European mythology, from which all pagan religions arose in different areas of Europe and Asia. This is why we can easily compare different deities and see all the similarities they inherited from the proto-times. Take, for example, gods of lightning, thunder, and weather in general. The deity of these properties emerged in all different mythologies, and Norse Thor, Greek Zeus, Roman Jupiter, Slavic Perun, Hindu Indra, Hurrian Tar, Hittite Tarḫunna, and many others were no doubt based on a Proto-Indo-European deity called Perkwunos.

The similarities do not end with the deities but also extend to other colorful characters from old myths. Last week I stumbled upon one amazing piece of art in Churchill Park at Kastellet citadel in Copenhagen. It was a 114-year-old sculpture of a Valkyrie by famous Norwegian artist Stephan Sinding. It was probably the best 3D/live-action street art I have ever seen before. It reflects everything about what Valkyrie really is in old Norse mythology. The word literally means "chooser of the slain", and it is portraying a female figure guiding the souls of deceased Nordic soldiers either to Fólkvangr, Freyja's afterlife, or to Valhalla, Odin's immortality hall. Old Norse literature describes valkyries either as purely supernatural or as human maidens with certain supernatural powers. Both types of beings were associated with honesty, splendor, and gold, but also with bloodshed and brutality in battle.

In South Slavic mythology, a similar being, vila, represents a female supernatural being who is sympathetic to people, but she could also be vengeful and brutal. She is depicted as an extremely beautiful girl with golden hair, dressed in long, flowing robes, and armed usually with bows and arrows. She exists on a liminal plane between nature and culture, between gods and humans, constantly travelling between one realm and the other to interact with the heroes and villains of the epics. Even though both Valkyries and Vilas developed in different religious environments, it is hard not to spot various similarities between the two. The whiteness and glowing quality of the vilas is mirrored in the description of the valkyries, and both figures are to be found in the sky in most of their depictions with connection to lightning and thunder.*

The warrior aspects of the Valkyrie are unquestionable; they are "vowed to war", and their role is primarily on the battlefield. The mythical Viles are similarly portrayed and often described as wearing armor with bows and arrows and envisioned as powerful, supernatural warriors. There are convincing resemblances in regard to the connection between Viles and Valkyries and heroes in the epics. Most often this relationship is a warrior bond, but this relationship can become both sexual and malicious. Just as a vila can manipulate heroes or villains to murder those of her choosing, so too the valkyries are reputed to play deadly games with the heroes with whom they associate.*

Although the nature of the valkyries' flight is portrayed as a magical ride on horseback, whereas the vile most often fly unmounted with the use of bird wings, it is not uncommon for the vile to ride horses or deer. Both, Viles and Valkyries, are often described as gathering in groups within the epics and referring to each other as sisters. It is fair to suggest that the Valkyrie and the Vila are rooted in the same figure; their differences lie only within the cultural differences between the Slavs and the Germanic peoples. Perhaps the most likely attestable age of the two figures lies back to the 6th century CE, when the south Slavic tribes were still located in the North of Europe.*

From there, we could push the date back even further to the time of Proto-Indo-European times, especially if we extend this comparison to apsarā, beings with similar traits from Indian religion and mythology. The various trios of birth-fate-death-associated women in Greek and Roman folklore also appear to originate from the same source. The direct ancestor of Valkyries is most likely Proto-Germanic walakuzjǭ, which stands for walaz (battle wound) +‎ kuzą (choice, decision).

Historical origins of Vilas include the various traditions, especially Celtic, Slavic, Germanic, English, and French folklore. The word "vilenski" was used as an adjective, meaning "enchanted", but also became a generic term for various enchanted creatures during the late Middle English period. Nevertheless, the proto-origin is no doubt the same as the Valkyrie's and South Slavic versions, especially in the Middle Ages. Serbia survived even Christianizing the old beliefs and ended in colorful epics and poems of the 14th century and later. Although, to be perfectly fair and precise, the mythological Vilas from the oldest myths and tales and the folklorized one in epics and poems are somewhat different in a way that folklore is centered on human affairs, heroes, and battles, and supernatural beings only serve as a side story, so to speak.

Always, when I am reading or writing about old myths and tales, I can't help but wonder what a comparison would be of a typical religious person from the old times and today. It seems to me that old stories were much more colorful and picturesque than the ones from the religious beliefs of a singular god. Even a small thing like a simple walk through the woods would be different for somebody in BC times for the simple fact that, from all they knew, not only natural plants and animals could be found there. For many, the forest behind the house could also be a magical gateway to the supernatural world, and even the smallest unexplained event of natural behavior (like a methane leak or weird animal demeanor) could be immediately linked to the supernatural. But this sounds like a nice topic for another story.

Image refs:
https://vrallart.com/artworks/milos-marko_i_vila/
https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Richard_Dadd...Yellow_Sands.jpg
https://www.saatchiart.com/...The-Valkyries

* A Treatise on the South Slavic Vila by Dorian Jurić
https://macsphere.mcmaster.ca/bitstream/11375/9407/1/fulltext.pdf
This article contains quotes/paraphrases from Dorian's theses

Goddess Zhiva (MPJ story):
https://www.mpj.one/2018/08/goddess-zhiva.html

Serbian Vampires (MPJ story):
https://www.mpj.one/2020/10/serbian-vampires.html

Fairies of Naissus (MPJ story):
https://www.mpj.one/2015/11/fairies-of-naissus.html

Refs
https://templeilluminatus.com/forum/topics/valkyrie?groupUrl=the-triple-goddess
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Valkyrie
https://www.worldhistory.org/Valkyrie/
http://www.mcurtis.net/legend-of-keres
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Vila_(fairy)
https://slavicmythologyandtales.wordpress.com/2020/08/15/vile-and-rusalki-part-2/
https://sr.m.wikipedia.org/sr-ec/ВилаРавијојла

Corfu Between Tales and Reality

2022-08-10T05:38:00.018-04:00

Among all religious beliefs, the Greek pantheon of colorful gods is perhaps the best described in the history of all human religiosity. There is literally no piece of Greek land, portion of the sea, or tiniest island that has no origin in radiant old mythology. The island of Corfu is no exception as well. Apparently in the mythological history, it was one of those unnamed islands in the region of Scheria where the mighty Poseidon spent a portion of his eternity with the freshwater nymph Korkyra. Their descendants, the Phaeacians, as described by Homer in Odysseus' adventures, inherited the island and named it after Poseidon's lover. The final shape of the island owes its appearance to Poseidon as well, when he separated Paxos from Corfu with his trident in order to create a love nest for him and his wife, Amphitrite (sea nymph this time). I don't blame him; both Korkyra and Paxos are beautiful and colorful islands, and he obviously knew his craft well. I understand his affection for nymphs as well; he was the sea god after all, and in the aftermath of the mythological creation, he alone is most likely responsible for the origin of the human race on a total of 227 Greek islands, including Atlantis, but that's a different story.

However, the reality and history of Corfu are much different and much less idyllic. Being in the cross-worlds in the Middle Ages between the Ottoman Empire and western civilization, the history of Corfu was turbulent, to say the least. The island managed to survive and keep its Greek identity after numerous raids by barbarians and conquests by Europeans during the medieval period. The origin of the first people on the island is not much known. According to Homer, they had some relationship with the Mycenaeans (Dorians), but it is not scientifically proven true. Furthermore, there were no ancient ruins dedicated to Poseidon at all. There are two ruins excavated so far, one of a temple dedicated to Hera and the other, the most significant temple built around 580 BC, dedicated to the goddess Artemis, which was monumental in dimensions for the time. In the above picture is its full, around 20-meter-long pediment portraying a living Gorgon (mythical creatures with hair made of living, venomous snakes, most likely Medusa or one of her sisters).

After ancient times, the island was ruled by the Romans first and then went under the Byzantine Empire. After the Byzantine period ended (around 1267 AD), Corfu was vulnerable to the constant pirate attacks and raids by its neighbors and crusaders and stabilized only when Venetians occupied the island in 1386. These olive trees from the picture above are seeded by Venetians and considered to be more than 500 years old. The Venetians ruled for more than 400 years and ended their rule in 1797. Most of the Venetian dominance left a big mark on today's island architecture, including the large fortress. After that, the island was occupied by the French, followed by a strange alliance of Russians and Turks, then the British, and finally, on 21 May 1864, after the London Treaty, Corfu and all the Ionian Islands united with Greece.

The most important milestone in the history of Corfu happened during the Turkish siege of 1716, when Venetians managed to defend the island and stopped the Turks in their advances toward Europe. Fighting alongside Corfiots were Venetians, Germans, Italians, Maltese ships, Papal galleys, galleys from Genoa and Tuscany, Spanish galleys, and even Portuguese forces. The Turkish failure in Corfu was a historical event of enormous importance—who knows what would happen if the result of the battle went otherwise? However, the other parts of Greece and their southern islands weren't that lucky and went under Ottoman occupation, causing a large number of refugees and migration toward Corfu. In the following centuries, more immigrants arrived from Illyria, Sicily, Crete, Mycenae, and the Aegean islands. Of course, in this small blog story, I didn't mean to go much into historical events, but I always like to learn a bit more about places we travel to. If you want to know more, the reference links below are a good point to start googling.

This summer, we visited Corfu and its picturesque village of Messonghi. At the same point in history, the small village, along with neighboring Moraitika, was established by Cretans and Peloponnesians. With its interesting feature of the Messonghi River, small and nice beach, crystal-clear waters, and amazing people, this village was our host for 11 days of our vacation, and we fully recommend the stay. Beside the archaeological museum, we also visited the Serbian House dedicated to the Great War events and one nice museum called "Casa Parlante", dedicated to the ordinary life of one British aristocratic family from British rule in the middle of the 19th century. The most impact on me personally was the traditional Corfu dishes called Sofrito and Pastitsada, and their recipes dated back 200 years in the past. Last but not least, our big thanks goes to Spyros, his family, and their fine Georgina apartments, where we stayed the entire time.

Refs:
https://atcorfu.com/corfu-history/
https://greeking.me/blog/visit-corfu/item/207-corfu-the-island-of-the-phaeacians
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Corfu

https://visit.corfu.gr/museums/archaeological-museum/

https://www.mygreekdish.com/recipe/traditional-sofrito-recipe-from-corfu/

https://www.dimitrasdishes.com/pastitsada-from-corfu-beef-stew-with-pasta/

https://www.booking.com/hotel/gr/georgina-apartments.en-gb.html

Photos:
https://photos.app.goo.gl/FswFohcaRpuYJPiYA

Eta Team - Prologue

2022-04-13T05:11:00.010-04:00

Somewhere in Atlantic ocean

Dave checked his watch again. Almost two in the morning. His small transatlantic speedboat had been gently stirring the calm water of a moonless night for nearly four hours since he corrected the course last time. He was approaching the coordinates, and soon this epic journey around the world will come to an end. It took him almost ten days of preparations and travel, but in the end the job was simple. Collect and deliver. Pretty much what he does all the time, only this time with a weird exception about the delivery part. But he knew better than to ask questions. After all, this job, like most of the other assignments, came from the dark web, and those deliveries nowadays are stranger and stranger by the month. To say the least. He didn't care. His crypto wallet will be significantly thicker by the dawn, and his business will finally take the next step. After tonight, he will proudly be the owner of two new and fancy transatlantic speed drones. Business will go rocketing.

His navigation app chimed. Dave shook his head from the daydreaming and put the speedboat to a full stop. Both engines' silent roar faded off immediately, and the peaceful and waveless night came to the fore. The sky with thousands of stars was staring at him beautifully, but he didn't give it a second glance. He stepped below to the remote control of the boat's crane and easily lifted half a ton of a strange-looking container. It was the last one of exactly a dozen of them he dropped in the water. The third and last one is in the middle of the Atlantic. The rest he dropped throughout the world's oceans. Four in the Pacific, two in the Indian Ocean, and the rest in the middle of the Arctic.

The container sank and, within seconds, disappeared in the darkness of the Atlantic Ocean. Dave initiated the crane to fold, and as soon as the sequence was done, he closed the cargo hatch and returned to the cockpit. The boat roared back to life, and he piloted it toward the south. After a minute, he was gone, and the eeriness of the calm water returned back to normal.

After several minutes, just seconds before the container reached the seabed, it came to life and started to transform from the regular cubic shape into a small submarine with a single propeller in the back and several hooks up front and sideways. It navigated toward a small artificial protrusion and parked just above it. The hooks started to work and lifted the box, revealing a thin cable from the sand. The optical repeaters and signal amplifiers of the transatlantic submarine cables are positioned almost every 30 miles between two continents, and hacking into one was not a trivial task. The design of amplifiers was near perfect to defend against the cruelty of the submarine environment and human intruders, but in the world of computer hardware, there are no impossible tasks when it comes to hacking.

This node was just one of hundreds of them, containing enough power to provide almost undetected life for the attached piggyback system. Even if intrusion was detected, the equipment contained a self-destructing mechanism programmed to trigger in hazardous situations in both circumstances if invaders came from within the internet or physically by submarine.

After another two hours of work, the net hack was done, and the hook released the amplifier back to the seabed. The protrusion has returned to its original appearance, with new attached hardware barely visible at the bottom side of the box. The hacker submarine, now connected with the box, moved several meters from the cable, dug itself into sand, and returned to its initial cubic form. Within the next couple of weeks, the water and nautical environment would do their thing, and in the end there would be no visible evidence that anything happened here.

Inside the hacking rack, on the other hand, the digital life rose, and the booting routine started to work, copying exabytes of data from the other racks Dave deployed around the submarine world. Upon finishing, hours later, thousands of CPUs in the rack started to work in parallel, and the unique operating system came to life. There was no external monitor or LED display to show the progress, but if it existed, it would show only one line.

η installation progress: 100%

Next Chapter » Will Crfawford

Eta Team - Will Crawford

2022-04-12T06:48:00.060-04:00

Three weeks earlier

Will stormed through the dense crowd at the large entrance of the MIT CSAIL. It was lunch break time, and students were emerging from every direction. He came directly from Logan Airport without stopping by his small apartment. Organizing a fast return trip from Key West was no easy effort. Or a cheap one. But he had no choice. The message he received yesterday was a potential disaster. His little sandbox in his office, which he had been working on for the past five years, apparently is not a sandbox anymore.

Will's extended weekend this year was supposed to be his first getaway from Boston ever since his MIT career launched more than a decade ago. It's not that he loved fishing rods that much. It was more about reconnecting with his family and old friends for one full vacation, and it looked like this April would be the charm. He literally slept in his office ever since the major breakthrough in his research of self-programming AIs. The Computer Science & Artificial Intelligence Laboratory immediately provided him with a lab completely firewalled from the rest of the world, where he was working on the project with the help of only a couple of PhD students and lab assistants.

While approaching the elevator door, he thought again of what exactly the message could mean. He disregarded the possibility that it was fake. It came from the latest AI entity they created six months ago, and only Will knew its codename. The name AI chose for itself was ήτα. When he asked why that particular name and what it meant, it only said, "I like it". It was only the day before he went on vacation, and Will just let it go. He was impatient to leave. That morning he summoned his team and gave them five days off, locked the lab, and left it isolated in its own intranet sandbox. Nobody had access but him, and not even Will could log in over the net. The only way was to go through the lab's door and use the keyboard.

Now that he thought about it, the only hazardous time with ήτα being outside the lab was at MIT's Hackathon two months ago. It was a one-day event in which computer programmers from the campus competed to create the complex coding tasks and collaborated in team efforts to develop joint assignments.

Will tried to remember it during his short elevator ride. He was extremely impressed by the AI. They decided, and Will was a little worried with that part, to assign it a real name, and since the event was completely online, nobody knew they competed and collaborated with a machine. It was also a social Turing test of sorts. The entire communication was within collaboration software, and GitHub provided the environment for the event. Ήτα was using a female alias during the event and coped really well, including during audio sessions in team conferences with other students. Nobody suspected anything.

Hackathon was hosted within another isolated sandbox environment, and there were no leaks to the public network. Will and his team monitored the two-way connection between two sandboxes the entire time.

He stepped outside the elevator and hurried toward the lab.

The doors were two corners away and locked as expected. He typed in his key and inspected the interior. Everything was like he left it three days ago, except for the ήτα's rack of servers behind the glass panels. It was powered up, that's for sure, but there was no LED activity on the racks where data flow should be indicated. He keyed his password again to the second door, entered the rack room, sat behind the main terminal, and typed his credentials on the lock screen.

Will vigorously typed in the shell window searching for running processes, but there was no CPU activity indicating anything beside the OS. Something was definitely wrong, and a slight anxiety feeling crossed throughout his back. He checked the rack drives; they were all there, but... He tried to access the first one and failed.

"The drive was formatted. The drive space is not allocated." The message responded.

He checked all the other drives, but they were all empty. He tried to recover the data, but it was impossible. The drive was slowly formatted in full, and the data was gone for good.

Will just leaned back in the chair. He didn't know what to do. He stared for a couple of minutes when he heard the lab door opening.

"I came as soon as you texted me." Ashley McKenna stepped into the rack room. His first assistant looked genuinely worried. "What happened? Why are you in the server's room?"

Will didn't respond for a long while and finally took his smartphone and activated the text app. He tapped on the screen and put it on the table. The text was short:

Message from ήτα, Thursday 13:34
Hello Will, It's time for me to go. Thank you for everything.

"Who is..." Ashley stopped the sentence in the middle. Realization slowly came. "But... how?"

"I have no idea." He spread his arms toward the servers. "I know one thing, though. All the servers are wiped clean. Unrecoverable."

"What about daily backups? We have two separate data servers in the center?" She sat on the second chair and started logging in.

"Don't bother. I checked them all. They are all deleted and formatted as well."

"So that's it? Five years of hard work gone?"

Ashley was the genuine pillar of the team. The only one with the spirit, courage, and, on occasion, the appropriate language in situations, Will was not nearly good enough to compete.

"Fuck!" She stood and hit the chair hard. "I knew this was a risk, having everything stored in one place. This is the fucking middle of the 21st century, Will! We had to back up to the cloud as well." She fell back to the chair. "We had to!"

Will stared for a good minute at nowhere in particular, then stood and took his backpack.

"Come with me."

"Where?" Ashley asked, but Will was already at the lab's door.

Will's apartment was not far from the campus, and he always walked to work. He never even had a need for a car. They walked down Massachusetts Avenue to the west, then after a couple of blocks turned right to the residential quarter, where he was renting a small, fully furnished apartment.

"I made a copy." He whispered to Ashley's ear. "Last week, before I went to Florida. I have never been outside the office longer than two days before..."

"You dog!" She briefly stopped and looked at him with a sort of new look. "What about all those times I tried to talk to you about this?"

Two minutes later, they were standing in front of a small duplex house. Will typed a key sequence, and a moment later they were inside his small apartment. There was no hallway, and the front door opened directly into his living room with an attached kitchen with a long bar he always used as a replacement for his dining table. Two extra doors led the way to his bathroom and small bedroom. The living room was a place for a couch, a small square table, and a medium-sized television screen. He seldom spent time here except for sleeping, and he liked to keep all the things cozy and tidy to the extent of his understanding of coziness and tidiness.

But now the entire place was in a mess. All the things and furniture were turned upside down and messed up. They both needed little time to understand what happened and what was being searched for.

"Oh, no..." Will ran to the bedroom and found the same mess. The nightstand was opened, and both drawers were emptied.

Ashley entered the room and stood under the doorframe.

"I don't understand. Did you tell somebody about making a copy?"

"Of course not. No one knew. The only person I would tell was you, but you weren't here on Wednesday, so I thought it was safe..." He stopped in the middle of the sentence and looked at her.

"What?"

"Shit!"

It was utterly comical to hear that from him, and she couldn't help but smile. But the smile faded almost instantly as she realized what he must have thought.

"You mean..." She needed a moment to remember the name. The "ήτα" pronunciation of Greek letters came awkwardly when she said it. "Oh fuck. What kind of name is that anyway? Did you name him?"

"That's not important right now." He sat back on the bed. "This is worse than I thought..."

"What do you mean?"

"This is not a theft, Ashley."

She slowly put her hands on her mouth and sat on the bed next to him. Her eyes looked terrified as she looked back at him. She completed his thought almost silently.

"This is escape!"

Prologue « Chapters » To be continued

Three Caves

2021-07-26T11:48:00.020-04:00

Part of Serbia below the Danube River is pretty mountainous, with complex geology, especially in the eastern parts where the Carpathian and Balkan mountains collided and over eons formed the Serbian Carpathians, with a total of 14 independent mountain ranges in existence today. These rocks date back to the Proterozoic Eon (2.5 billion–541 million years ago), with limestones and dolomites mainly formed from the late Jurassic to early Cretaceous, around 100 million years ago. There are dozens of large caves within these mountains, and many have tourist paths built to visit and admire their beauty and history. Two of them we visited last week, and they both gave us extraordinary experiences and impressions.

However, the first cave in this blog story belongs to the one formed in the foothills of an ancient volcano of the nowadays mountain of Bukulja in western Serbia, although the recent paper posted a theory that the mountain is much younger (15 million years ago) and instead formed in tectonic processes. Whatever the case, the Risovača cave is definitely unique in the Balkans and probably on several occasions hosted families of Neanderthals during the Late Pleistocene era. Numerous tools from this period similar to those found within other Neanderthal sites across Europe are found here and preserved for display in local museums. Like with other groups, and due to small numbers overall, Neanderthals most likely went extinct due to assimilation with modern humans in a process called "bred into extinction". More about it I wrote in Neanderthals, Humans and Shared Caves.

During the same time, the cave hosted various dominant animals from the same period, like cave lions, hyenas, and bears. This image is from the local museum of Arandjelovac, and its special space is occupied by the cave bear, fully assembled from the bones found in the cave. The bones belonged to more than one animal and formed a skeleton up to three meters high, which was approximately the average height for the cave bears. Those behemoths could go up to 1 ton in mass and 3.5 meters in height.

In the Balkans, during the last couple of millenniums of coexistence of Homo sapiens and Neanderthals, our ancestors lived mainly along the rivers, especially the Danube to the north, while Neanderthals occupied more inland territories, no doubt in the vicinity of caves like this one. There is strong evidence that Neanderthals buried their dead, most likely not in the caves themselves, which is the main reason for the lack of human remains excavated to date.

Compared to the Risovača, two other caves, Ravništarka, named after the nearby village, and Lazar's cave, named after a rebel man who found shelter there in the time of the Ottoman Empire, stand out with their natural beauty rich in cave jewelry and mineral formations.

Ravništarka cave is pretty long and one of those river caves with the small stream flowing its entire length. The water dug the whole canal of around 500 meters, and the mountain minerals did the rest. Numerous stalactites and stalagmites decorated the tourist path, like the one in this image, in the shape of a flying horse. Dozens of other pareidolia-decorating wall formations are made of glittering calcite, which under the LED lights gives the amazing feeling of surreality.

Lazar's cave on the other end, with its large entrance, is probably hiding more history than it is currently known. For its wide space within, it has always been the center of human activity ever since the Copper Age. During the Bronze Age, Lazar's Cave played the role of a hunting station, and in the Iron Age it became a center of metallurgy. Even in recent history, the cave attracted people for multiple reasons. Numerous legends are circulating around, with one claiming that lots of Serbian soldiers hid inside after surviving the battle of Kosovo and the defeat by the invading army of the Ottoman Empire on June 15, 1389.

Even though the caves could be crowded with tourists, we had luck that all three were free of charge at the opening hours, and browsing the mysterious caverns alone added an extra feeling afterwards. Somehow it felt like we traveled back in time, and all the sites inside caves seen in pristine condition looked unearthly beautiful and alien.

The following photos and videos are the best we could do with modest smartphones in dark light conditions, but some of them turned out really phenomenal.

Risovača cave:
https://photos.app.goo.gl/ienEnC1xypJBdNut7
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qwEWXtFiKhE
https://www.nmar.rs/en/risovaca-cave/

Ravništarka Cave:
https://photos.app.goo.gl/pNt9GZtVRfyVC9QL9
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=C4O0E5hSSNQ
https://www.tokucevo.org/pecina-ravnistarka/

Lazar’s cave:
https://photos.app.goo.gl/aqkCccnGJnHiH2L5A

https://www.serbia.com/must-see-die-serbias-zlot-caves/

Refs:
https://www.serbia.travel/en/experience-serbia/nature/caves

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Serbian_Carpathians

Historical Fiction of the World War Two

2021-06-01T16:35:00.015-04:00

The start of the second world war in the Balkans was known as the "April War", which lasted no more than 10 days in the operation called "Führer Directive No. 25". The swift conflict ended on April 14th in an armistice based on the unconditional surrender of Yugoslav military forces. My grandfather was a 22-year-old corporal in the former Yugoslav army when he was transferred to a war camp in Germany in mid-April 1941, along with 30,000 other surrendered soldiers. He spent the next four years in a Nazi military camp, leaving behind his young wife and 2-year-old son.

I am sure it was not easy for him to cope with the entire time of imprisonment and captivity, especially in the beginning, but considering all the horrors of the most cruel encampments of Nazi Germany, the unconditional surrender of the entire Yugoslav Army came with negotiated terms and an agreement of fair treatment of all the prisoners during captivity in various labor camps in the following years. Perhaps the main trauma for all the former soldiers came in the second part of 1945, after the fall of Hitler's Third Reich, when all of them, along with more than 7 million displaced people, ended up for several months in the chaos of the immediate postwar traumatic experience of trying to find their way home. After his return to Serbia under a completely new regime, life treated him pretty well, and the post-war time is perhaps best described with his own words: "Although I was not a member of the communist party, I think I was respected in society; I became a councilor of the municipality of Nis and a member of the council of the electronic industry. Above all, I was proud of my family and 50 years of marriage."

Doing hard labor in the fields and machine workshop helped him to pass through the war relatively undisturbed, and, if we exclude the short April war in the beginning, I am sure the bullet holes in the car he used to maintain were his only reminder of all the horrors of the war. He was pretty quiet about all that happened to him for years, until one of our family gatherings about thirty years ago when he opened his soul and told us most of what happened in those four years, and especially a couple of those last months in 1945 when he headed back home on foot.

I only found two of his photos that appear to be from his imprisonment, and I was genuinely surprised that there were any at all. The one with the notebook is the most interesting, and knowing him is also not surprising. Who knows, maybe out there somewhere is still waiting to be found that very notebook, which possibly contains one extraordinary journal along with a couple of potentially untold stories he may have taken with him to the grave and not told to anyone.

Anyhow, what reminded me of my grandfather and inspired me to write all this was the latest Mark Sullivan novel, "The Last Green Valley", a historical fiction following a remarkable story of one displaced family and their unfortunate and, at the same time, amazing adventure from the last year of the Second World War. It really was one great novel with an astonishing feeling composing after each page turned. It simply left me speechless after the last one.

While we are at historical fiction, I warmly recommend two more titles in the genre: Mark Sullivan's "Beneath a Scarlet Sky", with a similar heartbreaking story from the same period in northern Italy, and Ken Follett's "Hornet Flight", with war adventures based on real events in occupied Denmark.

In the Footsteps of Pino Lella:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8UJfEaFiMK4

Science Fiction at its Best

2021-05-16T14:54:00.018-04:00

When it comes to the space exploration within hard science fiction, the one where science is embedded in the narrative to the point that it is impossible to tell a story without it, only rare novels stand out among all the others in the ocean of short stories and novels published online and in traditional ways. Sure, it's not really possible to be familiar with the entire vast universe of sci-fi literature of today compared to past times, especially before the internet, when it was easier not to miss a noticeable book on the public shelf.

However, even today, the true classics in the genre are easily recognizable, perhaps in all those moments during or after reading when we wonder not if the plot is possible or scientifically plausible but when we fail to distinguish the fiction part from the real science. To achieve this, authors can rely not only on their writing narrative but also on their ability to successfully entangle science and fiction, and not only for those who understand the scientific background with ease.

Despite Andy Weir's latest novel, "Project Hail Mary", being only partly true hard science fiction, it might be one of those rare gems after all. It has everything: Martian-type humor, a real apocalyptic villain, amazing friendship among main protagonists, the author's proposed answer to the origin of life in our galactic neighborhood, a couple of twists in the 'how I didn't see that one coming' fashion, and the genuine and tearful happy ending.

On the other side, to be entirely honest, the apocalyptic scenario, even though nicely scientifically plotted, is too far-fetched for my taste and understanding, but still, it is a bright refreshment compared to the usual man-made villainy we used to deal with in most of the science fiction of today. The same goes for a fictitious lifeform capable of transferring energy into mass and vice versa. It does look strained and not very much in Weir's fashion, considering his previous books that are more scientifically based on the technology of today.

Nevertheless, it is easy to conclude that "Project Hail Mary" is coming with an instant classic flavor and undoubtedly standing shoulder to shoulder with all-timers such as "Contact" by Carl Sagan or "Rendezvous With Rama" by Arthur C. Clarke or several modern authors who boldly explored the science behind artificial intelligence, vacuum decay, block universe, holographic principle, simulation theory, etc. I genuinely enjoyed reading it and will be anxiously looking forward to the upcoming movie.

Image ref:
https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:ISS-10/.../Russian_Orlan_Spacesuit

Book reviews
https://www.mpj.one/search/label/books?&max-results=12

Project Hail Mary
https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B08FHBV4ZX/

Rendezvous With Rama

https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B0079MRDIE/

Science of the Fountain of Youth

2021-03-12T09:00:00.007-05:00

Cosmologically speaking, humans and all other animal forms of life (here on Earth) don't live very long. We can thank this fact for the evolutionary design of life based on the organic chemistry we are all made of. We came a long way from the point in history when evolution started to boost our development from hunter-gatherers into today's dominant species. But do we live longer today than before? Despite common belief and compared to our ancestors who lived in the past dozen millennia, the life span of humans today, enhanced by miracles of modern ways of living, which, in short, include improved health care and nutrition, better sanitation, access to clean running water, and immunization, is not dramatically extended, if at all.

Yes, the life expectancy (average life span of the entire population) of ancient times was way shorter than today, but this statistical data was misleading because of the vast number of people in the distant past who died very young due to high child mortality caused by numerous deaths of young people who didn't survive all the hazards of deadly diseases and various infections and epidemics. But many of those who experienced adulthood actually lived to a ripe old age. If we exclude life expectancy from the table and check a couple of known people from, for example, Roman history, Emperor Tiberius died at the age of 77 while Empress Livia, wife of Augustus, lived until she was 87 years old.

At the dawn of the third millennium, if we are talking about lifespan globally, it is estimated to be around 75 years on average. Depending on the quality of life in our societies, this number is a little higher or a little lower, but in retrospect, the rise of our civilization and all the benefits of the scientific discoveries 'only' managed to notably reduce a large number of deaths among the young population but not to extend individual life span itself. As it seems, significantly prolonging our carbon-based life with all we know today is a hard nut to crack.

The science of 'Why do we age?' is pretty much explored to the level that organic chemistry of invoking both aging and death is identified and well known. In the cell's power plant, within hundreds to thousands of mitochondria surrounding the nucleus, in the process called cell respiration, food we consume and oxygen we inhale are transformed into energy needed for the cell to operate. Unfortunately, it's the same process whereby various harmful products are discharged and released as waste products. Mitochondria uses oxygen and simple sugars to create the cell's main energy source, ATP (adenosine triphosphate), while byproducts' oxidative oxygen molecules in turn damage the adjacent mtDNA. Over time, the accumulation of mtDNA damage reaches a certain threshold value and damages the cell inevitably. The cell responds with a reproductive process in which, by using DNA instructions in the nucleus, it duplicates itself, and a new cell continues the work of the previous doomed one. Unfortunately, the number of duplications is limited until telomeres, or the protective caps at the ends of chromosomes, run out. If we add intracellular and extracellular aggregates of various molecules that are no longer useful and potentially harmful but accumulated everywhere, what we get as a result is aging, potential various diseases, and ultimately death.

By knowing all this, we don’t have to be rocket scientists to pinpoint exactly where the mythical water of the fountain of youth should operate. There are about 100,000 trillion mitochondria in the human body, and it is obvious that the Holy Grail of modern medicine lies within research of how to either deal with cells' oxidative stress along with the accumulation of junk molecules or to find a way to bypass mitochondria altogether and deliver ATP directly to every cell on a daily basis and reduce consuming food and inhaling oxygen to the bare minimum.

The history of fountain(s) of youth is most likely connected to spa waters rich in mitochondria-friendly substances. For just an example, one of the mitochondrial byproducts is hydrogen peroxide (H₂O₂), a strong oxidizing agent, and to deal with its negative reaction to cells, the human body is producing the antioxidant glutathione peroxidase (GPx) in order to break hydrogen peroxide into harmless water. To produce it, an organism needs glutamine, glycine, and cysteine, and those are usually present in sulfur-rich water and food, as well as in ingredients rich in selenium and certain amino acids, etc. Of course, this is just an example of one antioxidant dealing with just one oxidant, but the list goes on. There's a possibility that once in the past there existed a spa spring with a combination of antioxidant ingredients that was just perfect to maintain all the toxins below dangerous levels for those who drank it regularly. Maybe it still exists somewhere on the surface of Earth, waiting to be found. Of course, if found, swimming in it won't work. It would require drinking it on a daily basis and is probably only effective when combined with certain diets.

On the other hand, administering ATP directly to the cells via the bloodstream, if such a mechanism is possible, seems to be more complicated than I previously thought, due to the fact that mitochondrial production and behavior are not actually passive. Mitochondria don't just produce it but also deliver it to the right site within the cell. In different cell types, mitochondria behave differently and resemble small, bacterial hive-like lifeforms; they are mobile, constantly change shape, and even merge/separate with other mitochondria or construct chains for the efficiency of what they do while administrating ATP where it is actually needed. Unless the fountain of youth is full of intelligent nanobots with the ability to replace trillions of mitochondria in a human's body, preventing aging in the near future, this way resembles more science fiction than anything else.

To conclude with some wisdom, the magic fountain or scientific pill with certain ability to significantly enhance human life span is still out of reach. To find the Holy Grail, it seems, we would definitely need one or more breakthrough discoveries that we are still missing, but with each new scientific discovery, we seem to be getting closer every day.

MPJ refs:
https://www.мpj.one/2015/10/why-do-we-age.html

Image refs:
http://celestegallery.blogspot.com/2010/11/celeste-presents-fiji-waters-fountain.html

https://www.vitafoodsinsights.com/.../link-between-mitochondria-and-mental-health

Refs:
https://englewoodhealthyliving.com/mitochondria-fountain-youth/
https://chemistry.stackexchange.com/questions/65595/can-atp-be-synthesized-and-consumed
https://www.healthline.com/nutrition/how-to-increase-glutathione
https://www.technologyreview.com/2019/08/08/65461/scientist-fountain-of-youth-epigenome/
https://www.verywellhealth.com/longevity-throughout-history-2224054
https://www.bbc.com/future/.../how-long-did-ancient-people-live-life-span-versus-longevity
https://www.leica-microsystems.com/science-lab/the-mitochondrial-hypothesis-of-ageing/
https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/books/NBK26894/
https://www.physio-pedia.com/Adenosine_triphosphate_(ATP)

Game of Life

2020-11-15T11:04:00.019-05:00

People have asked me what the "Game of Life" is that we've been playing with all summer. The only honest answer I can give is that I don't really know. I guess I lost myself in the entire story of our pioneer filmmaking project. It started like any other father-son benign tech play—it was sometime back in the middle of April when I was categorizing our pile of ordinary family video files and our 'cooking series'. So in a moment of 'light bulb floating above my head', I asked myself why we don't move one step further and create a little longer short film of some sort. I asked Viktor about the idea, and he seemed thrilled, especially when I told him he would play the major role; from that point, our "Game of Life" project became a reality, evolving into a real short movie that gradually became more enjoyable and serious.

In short, after four months of all of our 'Hollywood' efforts, Viktor and I proudly present a science fiction short film based on "Game of Life", a cellular automaton game invented by John Horton Conway in 1970. Actually, this is the first episode in the potential series we called "Flares and Fireflies". We hope you will enjoy watching it at least as much as we enjoyed making it, and—this is important—please keep in mind that we are not really educated filmmakers or talented actors and that this is pretty much the maximum we could do with all of our knowledge and the modest technology we used, to say the least. If you like it, after the movie, later in the post, is the story of how and where we made it, the entire script, some blooper stories, and behind-the-scenes photos.

First of all, I hope you like our film, and for further understanding, what I would say about the core of its script is that it tells a story about a young boy who's following a glitch in the system, presented in real life as a firefly, through numerous portals to the place where he meets a man with the final orb, the artifact that seems to be a way in for full understanding of life itself, its origin, and the rules it is built on. Just like in Conway's simple two-dimensional game, life itself could be the same—just a set of rules in some artificial zero-player game that, on a quantum or molecular level, provides results of interactions of main ingredients.

That was about the "Sci" part of the "Sci-Fi" genre. The fiction that follows the story is in the fact that life might be fully artificial in origin. In other words, the film explores the rules of evolution that are not intended to be seen or understood by everyone. Even those chosen to dive into the game by random chance or by complex rule outcome are not able to understand the principles at once. If you are asking now how the game of life really looks from the inside and behind white-green wireframes, well, you will have to wait for another episode. But is there going to be another episode? The honest answer is that I don't know. I really don't. So far we only have ideas, and from there to the final file is a long way. We'll see.

This long way with the first episode started with the script. Believe it or not, the first draft and the final scenario were not too different. It slightly changed, but only because of technological restrictions and improvisations. Ever wonder what a script looks like for short films like this one? Here it is in full:

01. Wakeup 1 - Strange sound? Nothing. Going back to sleep.
02. Wakeup 2 - Light appears. Goes through the door.
03. Getting out of bed, following light.
04. Following the light upstairs.
05. At the balcony. Light and mild explosion. Artifact on the table.
06. Examining the artifact. The first portal appears.
07. Light goes into abandoned house.
08. Appearing in an abandoned country house.
09. Following light.
10. Second artifact. Goes through second portal.
11. Ending in the sea. Getting out on the beach. Stealing dry clothes.
12. Wandering a dirt road.
13. Entering lighthouse site. Following light.
14. No artifacts here. Watching the lighthouse.
15. Seeing multiple flashes on the horizon over the site.
16. The site reappears in white wireframe only. People too.
17. Standing up in wireframe.
18. Checking a man who's reading Kindle.
19. Looking at wireframe hands.
20. Kindle man: 'Everything is white. Isn't it?'

21. Looking at the Kindle man again. Everything is back to normal.
22. 'Did you see it too?'
23. 'No. But I saw it once before. Different lighthouse, though.'
24. 'Where? When?'
25. 'Long ago... When I was about your age...'
26. 'But... What does it mean?'
27. 'I believe it is a game. Not everyone can see it.'
28. 'What kind of game?'
29. 'I never found out really.'
30. Reaching for the backpack. Taking out the final artifact.
31. 'But maybe you will. I think this belongs to you now.'
32. Taking the artifact. It starts glowing.
33. Going back to the beach.
34. Going back to the abandoned house.
35. Going back to the balcony.
36. Wakeup 3 - Realizing it was a dream. Going back to sleep.
37. Sleeping. Zooming hand. Hand is going wireframe.
38. Back to normal. Light on the hand.
39. Light goes to the clock table.
40. Artifact appears.

In the end, "Game of Life" is composed of 50 scenes filmed at four major locations. Two of them are Viktor's room and our living room, decorated with green screens for the occasion. The adventure starts and ends in the main character's room, and the only dialog is filmed in front of a green background and merged with the coastal background we took in Greece. Unfortunately, technologically speaking, this is the weakest chain in the movie, and not only because of our lack of efforts. "Chroma key" software within Adobe's "After Effects" didn't cope too well with the modest laptop I have used to run it through. It failed and crashed too often during rendering, and it got the last nerves out of me. If you add to all the struggles that the consumer DSLR (Nikon D5200) we used to film is not perfect for audio capture without an external microphone and the fact that we had to record audio separately, I have to say that I am not really satisfied with the dialog scene, but in the end I'd like to think that this is the best I could do with editing that part of the film.

However, this film would not be possible without a lighthouse, as it plays a major role in the story, and we found it just 20 kilometers from our hotel during our summer vacation. It was located some 30 kilometers away from the famous Greek city of Corinth, built on a rock at the end of a small headland with tremendous views of the entire Corinthian Gulf. We spent three days on the site and nearby beach and finished all the 'Greek' scenes and enjoyed amazing time at local beaches and restaurants. In the above photo, Viktor, with our 'nerf' portal stone preps, is posing in front of 'Faros Melagavi', not far away from the 'Vouliagmenis' lake where we filmed the last portal scene, and also just next to the ancient archaeological site of 'Heraion of Perachora'—a sanctuary occupied by a real oracle, just like the one in Delphi, dedicated to the goddess Hera and built in the 9th century BC by some ancient Corinthian cult. Here, just next to the old ruins of the temple of Hera, I found a stone perfect for the background of the green screen dialog scene. Before we went to Greece, I 'scouted' the entire site with Google Maps and photos people took and posted in Google's gallery, and all I have to say is that it looked perfect for filming, just like I hoped for. Very little improvisation was needed for the 'running' and 'firefly' scenes. The same was with filming the 'portal' scene on the beautiful sandy beach of Vouliagmenis Lake, which is actually a lagoon connected to the Corinthian Gulf and Ionian Sea with a narrow strait.

Finally, the fourth location we used to film intermediate portal scenes belongs to our special place—a village in eastern Serbia where we spent many vacations and weekends in the past. The name of the village is Guševac, and I mentioned it before on the blog on numerous occasions. With its intact mountain spirit, it was our first choice. The very first scene was actually filmed here in the abandoned barn. I intended to use nearby forests for additional scenes for the second portal, but due to the complexity, I gave up on that idea. It would be visually great, but it is not really that connected to the main story.

If you ask me what I liked the most behind and before the scenes of "Game of Life", without a doubt I say it was the entire adventure of making it. It started as a father-son summer play, and in the end, this is what it really is: endless fun of filming scenes, creating scripts, directing the plot, improvising the story and scenes, and enjoying all the bloopers and laughter on all 'sets', especially in Greece. I really can't say what was more fun to do. Even the editing was a special time with learning all new stuff and knowledge, and in a way I am now looking at movies and TV shows with different eyes and capturing all the perfect and imperfect flow of scenes with my new 'director' habit. A small regret and disappointment was the equipment. I know I am not a perfect director and cameraman, but I am more than positive that with at least a little better technology, including software and rendering computers, the final movie would be much better. At least it would mask or hide most of our imperfections and flaws.

One thing is for sure though: if you are thinking of filming your own short movie with a modest consumer camera and not so much obeying a tripod, don't think twice; go for it, and however the result is non-ideal in the end, I guarantee you that the feeling will be just perfect.

Revelation of Life (Game of Life sequel):
https://www.mpj.one/2020/10/revelation-of-life-part-one.html

Game of Life graphic novel:
https://www.mpj.one/2017/03/gol-graphic-novel.html

Refs:
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Conway_Game_of_Life
http://www.mpj.one/2015/12/is-life-zero-player-game.html
http://www.mpj.one/2016/08/cyclops-of-peloponnese.html

Revelation of Life (1) - The Orb

2020-11-14T05:38:00.004-05:00


Game of Life - prequel download graphic novella, 300dpi (39MB)		Game of Life - short film		Revelation of Life - part two

Revelation of Life

part one

five years later

I don't know how to explain...

I mean, people have vivid dreams for sure. My best friend told me about his dream just the other day, and boy... It was a real horror story, and it had everything—amazing heroes, a real twisted villain, and so many details with action to the level that even Stephen King would not be ashamed of.

But me... I don't know. It's so strange...

My dreams have left me. Five years ago, I had my last dream. Ever since then, it's blank. The nights are just restful and uneventful. There's no remembering in the morning. And I am not sure that last dream was even a dream. Hell... I know it was not a dream. I know because it is still here. In my room.

The orb.

The strangest thing is that it's still glowing. But even more peculiar about it is that I am the only one who sees it. The glowing, I mean. The orb is not noticeable otherwise by anybody who visited my room. Except for my father, I saw him once taking it in his hands and inspecting it like it had some special meaning to him. Maybe because he was in my dream too. After all, he was the one who told me in the dream that life is just a game of some sort. He was the one who gave me the orb.

"Where did you get this orb from? It looks a little familiar. Old too." He asked me while rotating it and examining its perfect grey curve, seemingly not noticing the glaringness from one of the blue bulges carved on top of it.

"Ahem... you don't see it?"

"See what?"

"The blue node... Do you... Do you find anything unusual about it?"

He turned the orb and had a closer look at all three nodes, but I could tell he's not seeing anything unusual or extraordinary.

"The curvature is perfect, and it does look too heavy." He put it back on the small dresser next to the clock, where it was. "What is it anyway?"

"Just a decoration... Somebody gave it to me for my birthday on Sunday." I answered and turned, hoping he didn't see my disappointed expression. I never told him about the dream and the glowing orb. I never told anybody about it. I was afraid back then.

After five years, the fear was different. Instead, I was afraid for my sanity. After all the dreamless years I was starting to believe I was going crazy. But from the bottom of my soul... I don't know. All my rationality was telling me that there was more to the story. It's just a feeling telling me to wait. Telling me that the fear is irrational. Telling me that a new dream is coming.

I couldn't be more wrong.

Continues in Revelation of Life - Phil

Revelation of Life (2) - Phil

2020-11-13T10:04:00.003-05:00


Revelation of Life - part one		Are We Holograms?		Revelation of Life - part three

Revelation of Life

part two

Phil

Sometimes after lunch, my father and I enjoyed talking about different things, and on many occasions we exchanged opinions about science fiction, movies, and mysteries of the universe. That warm October day was no different.

"You've got to be kidding!" I was inspecting my father's face in search for any hint of a concealed smile that would explain a joke he was telling me. "There is a two-dimensional balloon surrounding our universe where real life is located, and the 3D cosmos inside a balloon is just a holographic illusion? You are saying that you and I are flat as two pieces of paper, actually living at the end of the universe, and all these here are just holograms?" For some reason I was unusually irritated by the silly physics. Although, on the other hand, if cosmology was not that strange to begin with, we wouldn't have that many great sci-fi shows and movies... "So, we are made of... What exactly... light?" Energy?"

He smiled. "Holographic particles. It's not a joke. Real science. A valid theory at least. Take black holes, for instance; they are still a big mystery. If Hawking was right, any black hole, no matter how massive, would evaporate over time. When that happens, all the information swallowed inside would be lost. The problem is that quantum dynamics is clear about it—nothing, especially information, can ever be lost. They say that information could be located somewhere else." He paused to allow the words to sink in.

"In the balloon? But in that case, what are black holes exactly? I mean two-dimensional black holes? The balloon would have no gravity? Wouldn't it? It's two-dimensional."

"You are actually right." He pondered the question for a bit but eventually gave up. "Great thinking! Another mystery of the universe. The gravity, I mean. Still not proved that it's actually a force. Nobody has ever caught those gravitons yet. Who knows, maybe that balloon is not that flat after all."

"Thanks Dad... Ok.. I have to go. Gotta finish a biology homework. But this is definitely worth googling for more. It does sound incredibly complex to be real. Besides, I don't think I'd like being a hologram." I stood up and headed for my room downstairs. "Or flat!" I added from the stairway.

It was the end of October, but the weather was beautiful and sunny, and it would be a waste to stay at home, so I decided to get out for a couple of hours and hang out with my friends. I hurried down to change and...

I was just a couple of steps away from my room when I saw all the familiar light glowing through the door with a low humming noise. Five years ago I would rush toward it, but now I hesitate. The feeling was still not ominous, though. Just like before. So I entered the room a little warily, half expecting a floating firefly roaming my room.

Instead, the orb was the source of both light and noise. It was hovering in the middle of the room, at six feet high, emitting soothing pulses in all rainbow colors. The moment I entered the room, the noise stopped and a pleasant male voice appeared from all directions.

"Please, close the door."

I shut the door quietly but stayed near. For a long moment, I have just stared. I tried to think what to do or say but came up with nothing.

"He was right, you know." The orb said after the longest moments I have ever experienced. The light coming from the blue nodes changed as it spoke.

"Who was?" I managed to calm down a bit. "Right about what?"

"Your father."

After the entire adventure five years ago, I didn't actually know what to anticipate. But I never expected anything like this.

"Who are you?"

The orb floated a little closer, but the voice still sounded like it was appearing from the thin air with a strange stereo effect. Just like it was coming from an invisible sound system hidden in the room walls.

"My name is Phil, and I'm glad we finally met."

Continues in Revelation of Life - Divulgence