Thanks to Rob Salkowitz, I've probed around to learn more about the Second Law of Thermodynamics in relation to Wolfram's work, A New Kind of Science.  The Second Law basically says that things which tend to move to a disorganized state do not tend to move back (assuming a closed system).  Example: the probability is extremely low that water, once changed to ice (assuming closed system where energy and other conditions are constant), will change back to water. (Ice doesn't sound disorganized to me, does it to you?  Anyhow, I think the point is there's literally a snowball's chance in hell that the snowball will melt if hell is a constant 31 degrees F.)  

Wolfram discusses entropy a number of times in his text; in regards to self-organized systems...Nuts, I have to leave for an appointment, I'll edit this and re-post when I get back.

I know what you're thinking: chick, get a friggin' life, will ya'?  Yeah, I hear you.

...

I’m back…had an epiphany while at the hair salon (don’t you find epiphanies at the salon, too?). 

Head covered in dye, trying to read through Wolfram’s notes on entropy, enduring my kids tap-dancing a tattoo to the refrain of “I’m soooo boooorreeddd”, it dawned on me that surely someone would already have explained entropy, the Second Law of Thermodynamics, and may even have touched on Wolfram’s theory.

Well, close – I found someone who appears to explain correctly both entropy and the Second Law, as well as addressing the issue of probability – in the context of evolution, to boot.  This appears to be a legitimate, rational, lucid but technical explanation; those of you with more technical backgrounds, please be the judge.  [See, “The Second Law of Thermodynamics, Evolution and Probability” by Frank Steiger, http://www.talkorigins.org/faqs/thermo/probability.html; Caveat Emptor: this site is primarily dedicated to the discussion of evolution and creationism.].  

Steiger may correctly address the issue of the probability of reversal from one state to another – and if this gentleman can explain the probability of order arising from disorder both forward and backward in a fairly linear fashion, then surely there’s a code, program, cellular automata (CA) which can replicate this same effect.  May be there’s not as many holes in Wolfram’s theory after all; it still doesn’t explain who, how or why.

I’m still stewing about the scope of Wolfram’s theory.  After reading about the changes in theories about gravity and invisible, multiple dimensions, I’m not really certain that Wolfram’s theories will hold up over the long run – the jury’s still out as to whether there might be unseen forces which influence any CA’s computational irreducibility.  Is it the case that some CA is truly irreducible, or that the CA is coded inaccurately?

Dang it all, now I’ll have to read more on string theory, multiple dimensions and Many Worlds theory.  Maybe I can find a nice little tome on any one of these subjects before my next trip to the salon – emphasis on little, ‘cuz New Science is a pain in the keester to lug around.  (And yes, I’m still going to have to read and re-read Wolfram on entropy anyhow – just not at the salon!)

5:47:36 PM    comment []

Flattering to see acknowledgement by Scott Rosenberg regarding my comments on blogging’s raison d’etre.  Weird to think Salonistes might drop by – howdy, sorry ‘bout the mess, make yourselves at home, can I get you a cup o’ joe?

Scott also discusses Rob Salkowitz’ rant blog entry, The Long Kiss Goodbye to the 20^th Century.  Great blogging, thought provoking, stimulating…moves me to write about 9/11 in my blog, something I never thought I would do.

There’s been a sacred wall, a veil, between art and life; art has always been a mirror of life, reflecting our consciousness.  Artists may live for their art, make a living by way of art, but it’s always been assumed that art was consumed and explored, a thing apart.  Even the most participatory of art forms meant that one could still exit, one could part the veil and step away.  Media, art’s flesh, always stayed within its bounds as delivery agent – toss the paper, turn off the television, shut the doors to the exhibit, wash the car with the T-shirt, tear away Christo Javacheff’s plastic draping and throw it in the recycling bin.

The cold, calculated murder, self-annihilation and mass destruction of 9/11/01 violently transcended this separation, shredded the veil into atoms, ripped our consciousness from its moors.  Media no longer served as messenger, it was part and parcel of the destructive process; media and our consciousness were taken hostage that day.  

While I’m in awe of the work compiled on 9/11 by the brothers Gideon and Jules Naudet, it serves as a perfect example of the derailment.  Watching their documentary we become painfully aware that this was supposed to be an innocuous observation of a probie’s transition from “virgin” to experienced firefighter.  Harmless, been-there-done-that, coming of age story…then torn away from the grips of the filmmakers, now a montage of incredible fear, pain and horror of someone else’s making.  I was shocked, sickened to tears, seeing the second plane entering the second tower captured on Naudet’s film – as much as I was the first time I watched it live one year earlier.  A mere second before a puzzling fire in the first tower reflected on film by Naudet – suddenly someone else is in control of the filming, nothing from this point on belongs to the Naudet’s, except their pain and confusion.  It’s as if the cameras were ripped from their hands at gunpoint.

This is exactly why I cannot subscribe to anything that came of media on 9/11 as art.  Nothing, nada, not one iota was art.  Art is NOT violation, it is not a mind-rape.  Yeah, I like a good mind-f*ck as much as the next art maven, but it’s consensual, I elect to pull up the sheets and cover what I don’t want to see, partners leaving the bed satisfied or not.  But on 9/11 we were RAPED, taken against our will, unable to protect ourselves and give the good fight, gun thrust unexpectedly behind our ear and trigger pulled.  That’s simply not art – it’s grim, utter, ugly reality, not the mirror of reality, not the distilled essence of human feeling.  It was no Dadaist exploration, not a performance - it was warts and ALL. 

I’m certain it’s this same feeling that gives people pause about works like “Woman Tumbling” sculpture; when is the rape over?  Would a photo of an actual rape in progress ever qualify as art, and when would the victim ever agree?

And if you ever questioned whether rape was about sex or violence, here it is.  It’s the brutal, forced subjugation, negation of another human being.  Definitely NOT art, never, ever.

God, I feel sick, wounded in the heart.  Not even the most dramatic art has ever made me feel so disgusted.

10:31:29 AM    comment []