Newsgroups: sci.math,talk.bizarre,talk.philosophy.misc,rec.arts.prose,alt.prose,rec.puzzles,alt.butt.harp,rec.arts.startrek.creative,bit.listserv.words-l,alt.usenet.kooks,alt.religion.kibology From: richh@netcom.com (richh) Subject: RICHH: THE USUAL SUSPECTS(pt. 1) Message-ID: Keywords: Wittgenstein, Galois, Gauss, Fermat, Ramanujan, MvS, LP, HS Organization: NETCOM On-line Communication Services (408 241-9760 guest) Date: Wed, 5 Jan 1994 15:02:47 GMT Note: The following is a work of fiction. None of the names have been changed because no one is innocent. ------------------------------------------------------------- Geordi was talking to Barclay. He said, "Reg, we've been friends for a long time. What have you got going on here?" "Just a little holodeck simulation. Stick around. The others'll be here soon. You wanna watch?" "Well, I'd love to, Reg, but it's tough to see *anything* while wearing this air filter." "C'mon." They entered the holodeck. "Computer, begin program Barclay 993." A long oak table appeared around which were seated six men and two women. On the table were strewn some writing pads, pencils, matchsticks, compasses, and straight-edges. There was a gallery overlooking the table but none of the people seemed to notice. "Reg, these people. Who *are* they? They have such *presence*." "Well, that guy at the head of the table, with the sharp nose--" "Good hair," said Geordi. "That's Carl Gauss." "Gauss. Go on." "At his left is Pierre de Fermat." "Across from him...who's the fat guy with the eyes?" "That's Ramanujan." "And to his right is Andrew Wiles." Geordi nodded. "Across from him, with the beard, is Raymond Smullyan." "Who?" Data entered, dressed in black slacks, a black vest, and a white Oxford shirt. "Has it begun yet?" he asked. "Just starting," said Barclay. "So who's this Smullyan guy?" Data answered. "Raymond Smullyan. A late 20th-century logician and puzzle-maker." "Why Smullyan? Why not Martin Gardner?" "Smullyan looks like Santa Claus. The author's writing this the day before Christmas..." "Point taken. One question, Reg." "Sure." "What's this doing in talk.philosophy.misc?" "Stick around. In the meantime, ask yourself this. What do you make of the following: A Russian homophobe will be unexpectedly hanged next week."? "Okay," said Geordi. "Well, I've never know you to lie before, so if you were in fact lying, that would be unexpected. I guess I can infer pretty much whatever I like. Just one more question." "Shoot." "What's a homophobe?" One by one Picard, Riker, Troi, Worf, both Crushers, and a few others entered the holodeck and seated themselves in the gallery. "Next to Wiles is--" Data interrupted, "Lily Tomlin." "Great," said Geordi, "She was funny." "No, Geordi," said Barclay. "Not Lily Tomlin. That's Mar--" "Mary Tyler Moore! Of course. Those early shows were great!" "Um, sorry to disappoint you, Geordi. That's Marilyn vos Savant." "Who?" "Data?" said Barclay. Data shrugged. "Marilyn vos Savant?!" said Geordi. "If that's a real name then I'm Ludwig Plutonium." "No," said Barclay, "but *he* is." Geordi looked at the near end of the table. There were two more seated there, one man and one woman. Geordi looked at the one on the right, the man, removed his visor and rubbed his eyes. "Is he wearing what I think he's wearing? And who *is* he?" "Like I said, *that's* Ludwig Plutonium." "Why the empty chair between him and Smullyan?" "The first time I ran this simulation, there was, well, a seating problem. So I had the computer run through all possible seating arrangements. Trust me. The seat's empty for a reason." "But who *is* he?" Data shrugged again. "Across from him is Hollystone S." "Data?" "Late 20th century porno star," said the android. "Excuse me, Data," said Barclay. "I don't think so. Come on, let's sit down." They joined the others up in the gallery. UN-altered REPRODUCTION and INSEMINATION of this IMPORTANT Information is a MORAL IMPERATIVE. RICHH Newsgroups: sci.math,talk.bizarre,talk.philosophy.misc,rec.arts.prose,alt.prose,rec.puzzles,alt.butt.harp,rec.arts.startrek.creative,bit.listserv.words-l,alt.usenet.kooks,alt.religion.kibology From: richh@netcom.com (richh) Subject: RICHH: THE USUAL SUSPECTS(pt. 2) Message-ID: Organization: NETCOM On-line Communication Services (408 241-9760 guest) Date: Wed, 5 Jan 1994 20:30:41 GMT At the table, Gauss was briefing Fermat, Wiles was briefing Gauss, and Ramanujan was scribbling in a notebook. Marilyn tried to join in but she kept confusing "diaphanous" with "Diaphantos" and "geodesy" with "Jodeci" and soon turned her attention to the other end of the table. Smullyan joined the group on the right when Wiles caught them up on logic and Godel(neither of which Gauss or Fermat seemed to care much about), but seemed to be having more fun with Marilyn and her new friends, and kept rearranging the matchsticks in front of him. "Geordi," said Barclay. "The guy with the equations scribbled all over his jacket. He believes he was Archimedes in a former life." "Mmm-hmm," said Geordi. "And Phar Lap," added Barclay. "A DOS extender?!" "The racehorse. And the woman across from him--she thinks she is the communicator of Galois." "Communicator?" "Data?" "Communicating. Similar to channeling. A late 20th century phenomenon whereby the spirit of a dead person is temporarily embodied in that of a living one. The most famous of these channelers was a woman by the name of J. Z. Knight, who channeled an ancient Indian deity called Ramtha. She was championed by Shirley Maclaine, whose best-selling book, _Out on a Limb_ was followed by the less well-received _Out of My Fucking Tree_. J. Z. Knight made a small fortune before a photographer took pictures of her practicing in front of a mirror." Counselor Troi whispered to Picard, "Notice how Ludwig and Hollystone avoid making any eye contact with each other." "I noticed that, Counselor. Have you ever dropped bad Tellerian acid and then looked in a mirror?" Troi noded and said, "Also, have you noticed how Data just rambles on and on...?" "Data without generalization is just gossip." "How prescient of Robert Pirsig..." Gauss and Fermat had very quickly assimilated most all of the mathematics that had developed between the time they had died and 1993. Ramanujan seemed not to care very much and was just scribbling away. Occasionally, Ludwig would get up, walk around and look over his shoulder, but Ramanujan never noticed him and Ludwig quickly returned to his seat, visibly shaken. "Data," said Barclay, "you're on." Data walked down to the table. "Would anyone care for some tea?" said Data. "Coffee?" Gauss said, "A beer, thanks." "Champagne?" "Ceylon tea." "Coffee. Black." "The same." "Diet Pepsi." "Tahitian Treat. Flat." "Eau de toilette. Chaud. Tres, mais pas trop." "You're weird," said Data. "I heard Galois spoke quietly." "Very weird." "Tres, mais pas trop." "Si vous le dites," said Data. "Is something wrong with the universal translator, Barclay?" asked Riker. "No, Commander. This whole universal translator conceit is rather tenuous, so I'm letting them say whatever they like. Besides, sometimes the universal translator robs speech of that certain jenesaisquoi..." "Point taken." "And the first few times I ran this simulation, the ship's computer spent so much time trying to understand Ludwig and Hollystone that life support on decks three through nine was compromised." "So then Galois and Fermat will speak French, Gauss German, and the others English?" "Doubtful," said Barclay, "since the only German word the author knows is 'mittelschmerz'." "Carry on, Broccoli" said Picard. Hollystone stood up and cleared her throat. "Uh oh," said Troi, "I feel weirdness." Hollystone said: "The Tao of Twin7 7 is 7 7 is not the 7 7 is the day 7 is the night 7 is the sound 7 is the silence 7 is the planet 7 is the star 7 is a cycle 7 is a measure 7 is a prime 7 is also a twin 7 is the spiner 7 is the source Twin7 together breeds the life 7 is the beginning 7 yet, is not the 7 ...... The Tao can be told is not the Tao The Way can be told is not the Way The Word can be sound, is not the word The Name can be named, is not the eternal name." "Is that Lao-Tse?" said Riker. "Of sorts," said Data. "Did she say 'Spiner'?" Worf said, "Lao-Tse surely had Klingon blood in him. Did he not say that a warrior's best weapons were 'cunning, exile, and silence'? Smart man." "Actually, that would be James Joyce," said Data, "speaking not of warfare, but about writing." Worf growled. "Yet, I am speaking 7," said Hollystone, sitting back down. "Can I change my seat?" said Ludwig. Data said, "There was a song by Prince called "7". If I may--" He sang, "All 7 and we'll watch them fall They stand in the way of love And we will smoke them all With an intellect and a savoir-faire No one in the whole universe Will ever compare I am yours now and u are mine And together we'll love through All space and time, so don't cry One day all 7 will die." Picard cringed. "Who was this *Prince*?" UN-altered REPRODUCTION and INSEMINATION of this IMPORTANT Information is a MORAL IMPERATIVE. RICHH Newsgroups: sci.math,talk.bizarre,talk.philosophy.misc,rec.arts.prose,alt.prose,rec.puzzles,alt.butt.harp,rec.arts.startrek.creative,bit.listserv.words-l,alt.usenet.kooks,alt.religion.kibology From: richh@netcom.com (richh) Message-ID: Followup-To: poster Organization: NETCOM On-line Communication Services (408 241-9760 guest) Date: Thu, 6 Jan 1994 12:40:24 GMT Picard cringed. "Who was this *Prince*?" "Prince," said Data, aka O-+->, aka 'thingee', born Prince Rogers Nelson. He was a popular singer in the late 20th century. Interestingly, the plot of his first film, 'Purple Rain' bears striking similarities to the famous Klingon opera 'Bok Choi', especially in the character of the father, whose own talent is abjured--" "Abjured?" said Worf. "I would say 'abnegated'." "Ah," said Data. "But--" Picard asked, "Enough, Data. Now, what is this O-+->? Some archaic mathematical symbol?" "Actually, for Prince, it represented the combination of the male and the female, the yin, the yang, the j, the i, the m--" Ramanujan looked up very briefly and said, "That's so lame." "Whatever became of this Prince?" "He went looking for the ladder," said Ludwig. "Sometimes it snows in April," said Hollystone. Data said, "Perhaps I can explain better in song: His name was Prince And he was spunky When it came to spunk He was a junkie..." "Funk, Data," said Riker. "I believe the word is 'funk'. Although your version is no less--" "That's enough," said Picard. "Pete," said Wiles, "I have to ask. Did you have a proof or not?" "Of what?" Up in the gallery, young Wesley boy genius was distracted. "Young Wesley boy genius," said Picard, "what's on your mind?" "I was just wondering if Scully will ever be allowed to really *act* on the X-Files." "Oh, young Wesley boy genius," said Picard, tousling young Wesley boy genius' hair, "and what would you know of *real acting*?" "Hey, I was good in 'Stand By Me'." "Well, if you take 'good' to mean 'nauseatingly earnest' then yes, you were quite good." "Just because I don't do Shakespeare doesn't mean--" "Oh, petulance. You're expanding your range." "Captain," said Counselor Troi, "I sense hostility." "I sense a cipher," said Picard, and smacked her. "Well," said young Wesley, "if you're such a hotshot actor, how come you can't do an even remotely-convincing love scene?" "Good one, Wes," said Geordi. "It's a *choice*, Ensign. You understand: a *choice*!" "I believe I understand," said the boy genius, thinking a moment. "You're *choosing* to act badly in love scenes." Riker grinned. Worf nodded. Beverly licked the tip of her forefinger and drew an imaginary "one" in the air. "One more crack like that, young Wesley boy genius, and you'll spend the rest of your life in a pain enhancer." "Pain enhancer, Patrick? said Riker. "You do realize this isn't 'Dune', right?" Troi said, "Did you hear Lynch is interested in directed an episode next season? But he wants to feature 'Bob' and Berman says No." "Pain enhancer," said Worf. "Tell me more." Ramanujan was showing a peculiar property of theta functions to Gauss, Fermat and Wiles. Marilyn was writing out the first few terms of a number series. Smullyan had taken two cubes and on one had written the numbers 3, 4 and 5. Marilyn said, "Okay, listen to me. What's the next number in this series?" "Data, get in on this," said Barclay. Data moved over to the table. "Here, you want pencils, paper?" They all just glared at her. "Fine. Here goes. 8, 9, 12, 15, 21, 34. What's next?" Gauss, Fermat, and Ramanujan all said, "56" before she was done saying "34". Ramanujan was continuing the series. "88..." Ludwig broke a pencil. "Yes, 56," said Wiles. "Data?" "56 is correct, Captain. I don't know how they beat me. Permission to destroy myself." "Permission denied. Data, sometimes you can make no mistakes and still lose." Ludwig said, "Would someone please explain to us down here in the cheap seats why 56 is the next term in the series?" Gauss muttered under his breath, "Boeotian." "I heard that, Carl. I don't know what it means, but I heard it." He was tossed a dictionary. "This dictionary sucks" said Ludwig. "There's no 'gullible'." Gauss muttered under his breath, "Dickweed." "All right," said Riker. "Who introduced the Kibo sub- process?" He was roundly ignored. "Okay," said Marilyn. "I don't know how you did it, but you got the next term in the series. Now, here's a question I got last week from a reader in Des Moines. 'Ignorant in Idaho' wonders..." "Wait," said Ludwig. "Explain this 56 business." "Yes," said the boy genius. "What's going on?" Data answered. "Marilyn forgot with whom she was dealing. If she'd begun the series at a thousand, it would have been much harder." "No, not really," said Ramanujan." "A million?" "Okay," said Ramanujan. "Starting with a million would have taken a few minutes. It would not have popped into my head as it did starting with eight." Fermat said, "You see, Marilyn, we've played with these numbers all our lives, especially the primes. Don't fuck with us, okay?" "Primes?" "Jesus Christ, Ludwig," said Gauss, "once she started with eight and nine, she'd pretty much given it away. Eight and nine are the only two numbers, less than 10 , neither of which is prime, and between which there are no primes. There's one prime between nine and twelve, one between twelve and fifteen, two between fifteen and twenty-one, three between--" "The Fibonacci series!" exclaimed young Wesley boy genius, who consequently had to change his uniform. "Why 21? Why not 22?" "Whenever there was a choice like that," said Ramanujan, "she picked the median. For example, after 21 her next term lay somewhere between 31 and 37. Difference of 6, halved, added to 31, badabing badaboom: 34." UN-altered REPRODUCTION and INSEMINATION of this IMPORTANT Information is a MORAL IMPERATIVE. RICHH >From richh@netcom.com Fri Jan 7 16:24:14 1994 Newsgroups: sci.math,talk.bizarre,talk.philosophy.misc,rec.arts.prose,alt.prose,rec.puzzles,alt.butt.harp,rec.arts.startrek.creative,bit.listserv.words-l,alt.usenet.kooks,alt.religion.kibology From: richh@netcom.com (richh) Subject: RICHH: THE USUAL SUSPECTS(pt. 4) Message-ID: Followup-To: poster Organization: NETCOM On-line Communication Services (408 241-9760 guest) Date: Thu, 6 Jan 1994 15:08:10 GMT Lines: 145 Xref: kuis-news sci.math:45961 talk.bizarre:106000 talk.philosophy.misc:11272 rec.arts.prose:866 alt.prose:2962 rec.puzzles:17186 alt.butt.harp:795 bit.listserv.words-l:59820 alt.usenet.kooks:230 alt.religion.kibology:17090 Hollystone stood up again, sipped her eau de toilette, and cleared her throat. "Counselor," said Picard, "let go of my arm!" "I feel dizzy. Weirdness ahead." "Between Truth and Power, which one would you choose? Between Truth and Wealth, which one would you choose? Between Truth and Namer, which one would you choose? Between Truth and Friend, which one would you choose? Between Truth and Proofs, which one, would you choose? Between Truth and Yourself, which one would you choose? Between *1* and *1000*, which one would you choose? and why?" "I'd *really* like a new seat," said Ludwig. "Ludwig," said Data, "look her in the eye, free your mind, listen, and I think you'll find you've more in common with her than you realize." "Hey, you used a contraction!" "Are you the Data," said Holly, "or are you the Lore?" "Holly," said Barclay, "tell Ludwig about the atoms." "In the vision of Greeks," she said, "the world is made of water ( or atom). They think everything good has to be simple. They think that the truth is really in the atom. So, take the atom, one will find the truth. I tried. And I did!" Ludwig took her small hand in his. "You, you mean that, Holly?" "Is something wrong with the inertial dampers?" said Troi. "I need some Dramamine." "I can't watch this, Captain." "Join the club. "Captain," said Deanna, "have you noticed how all the really outstanding kooks are fascinated by atoms?" ""Yes, Counselor, your innate grasp of the painfully obvious is as sharp as ever. But you know, Counselor, it makes one wonder: Why should a group of simple, stable compounds of carbon, oxygen and nitrogen struggle for billions of years to organize themselves into a Ludwig Plutonium?" He raised his voice and added, "What is the *motive*?!" "Sounds like Pirsig again." Picard nodded. "And totalities," said Dr. Crusher. "Everything has to be a Theory of Everything. They'll give you richly-layered TOEs but they can't take a derivative or stop their vcr's from flashing 12:00." Picard said, "Speaking of TOEs, where's Q, that great poof?" Holly said, "The totality of the Universe does not change When there is life, There is death Death isn't a bad thing It is the source for The Beginning When life shall be celebrated So Shall death Death isn't a bad thing It is the source For The Beginning - Beginning to prove Beginning to understand Death isn't a bad thing It Is Just The Beginning" Ludwig said, "Totality?" Dr Crusher said, "Dollars to doughnuts they write their own vows." "Mom," said young Wesley, "I was wondering, how come we never ever mention Einstein on the show?" Dr. Crusher slapped her young idiot. "Wil, do the words 'breach of contract' mean anything to you?" said Riker. "And don't mention Lorentz, either." "But--" "Pain enhancer," snarled Worf. "I was *saying*..." said Marilyn, "anxious to regain the floor, 'Ignorant in Idaho' writes 'Imagine a bowl of water containing a tadpole. We'll call this tadpole 'Hannu'. Now, imagine a camera filming the bowl of water over the course of the next three weeks. If the camera films 24 frames per second, we can expect some 43.5 million frames--" "43,545,600," chorused a number of voices. "Yes, well. No one would argue that frame 1 shows Hannu the tadpole and frame 43-- "43,545,600." "--shows Hannu the frog." Smullyan rearranged his matchsticks. "Well, then, it follows logically that there must be a frame in there that shows a tadpole that is directly followed by one that shows a frog. No?" "Data?" "Got *me* by the balls." "Data!" "It's slang, Commander. Did I use it incorrectly? I've been--" "Yes, it's slang. It's also vulgar and sexist." Data thought for a moment. "Perhaps I should have said, 'Got me by the short and curlies'." "We'll talk later." Gauss was growing impatient. "What does any of this have to do with *math*? Is this some kind of twisted joke? I didn't come here to fuck around; I came here to *smoke*." Picard stood up and left the gallery. "Oh, I know this one. I'm joining in." He seated himself between Smullyan and Ludwig. Data said, "Actually, Marilyn, what your reader is describing can be traced back, on Earth, to Greek philosophers in the 4th century B.C. "B.P." said Ludwig. "British Petroleum?" said Wiles. "Before Plutonium," said Ludwig. " And it's the *24th* century B.P." "The sororities?" said Marilyn. "Close," said Picard. "It's analagous to the paradox of the *sorites*, the ancient Greek word for heap. The philosophers of the school of Megara first formulated this paradox by showing the impossibility of making a heap by adding one seed at a time. It has led to all sorts of similar paradoxes, most of them of the form: A man who has a penny is not wealthy. If a man is not wealthy, giving him a penny will not make him wealthy. Therefore, no matter how many pennies you give a man, they will not make him a wealthy man." UN-altered REPRODUCTION and INSEMINATION of this IMPORTANT Information is a MORAL IMPERATIVE. RICHH >From richh@netcom.com Fri Jan 7 16:24:34 1994 Newsgroups: sci.math,talk.bizarre,talk.philosophy.misc,rec.arts.prose,alt.prose,rec.puzzles,alt.butt.harp,rec.arts.startrek.creative,bit.listserv.words-l,alt.usenet.kooks,alt.religion.kibology Path: kuis-news!wnoc-kyo-news!sh.wide!wnoc-tyo-news!nec-tyo!nec-gw!netkeeper!vivaldi!seas.smu.edu!uunet!elroy.jpl.nasa.gov!decwrl!netcomsv!netcom.com!richh From: richh@netcom.com (richh) Subject: RICHH(THE USUAL SUSPECTS(pt. 5) Message-ID: Followup-To: poster Organization: NETCOM On-line Communication Services (408 241-9760 guest) Date: Thu, 6 Jan 1994 18:27:55 GMT Lines: 127 Xref: kuis-news sci.math:45985 talk.bizarre:106038 talk.philosophy.misc:11275 rec.arts.prose:867 alt.prose:2963 rec.puzzles:17193 alt.butt.harp:796 bit.listserv.words-l:59863 alt.usenet.kooks:231 alt.religion.kibology:17099 "Captain," said Data. "The Endometrians, in the Puta system, have their own version of this paradox, which predates the Earth version by--" "How very nice for them, Data. Would you get me some tea? Earl Grey. Hot." "Wankery," said Gauss, who then asked Fermat something which Fermat did not answer. "Raymond," said Picard, "is it not true that for a given series, 1 to n, if 1 has a certain predicate and n does not, then there must be a least number, within the series, of course, which does not have the predicate? Ludwig, by 'predicate', I mean 'defining characteristic'." "That is basic, but the problem is--" "There are a number of schools of thought on this, Marilyn," said Picard. "You are familiar, I take it, with classical logic?" She looked down, "Um, yeah. Identity, excluded middle, contradiction. I miss any?" "No. Now, some would argue that certain laws of classical logic, particularly that excluded middle, should be discarded; others say any two-valued logic will yield the paradox; still others say the problem is not articulated precisely enough to be handled by formal logic." Ramanujan, who had appeared not to be listening, didn't look up, but said, "Only in the West would such a problem arise. In ancient India, the Jains had a much more sophisticated attitude toward the truth of a statement. To wit: (1) maybe it is; (2) maybe it is not; (3) maybe it is, but it is not; (4) maybe it is indeterminate; (5) maybe it is but it is indeterminate; (6) maybe it is not but it is indeterminate; (7) maybe it is and it is not and is also indeterminate. The paradox of the sorites is not a paradox at all to the Jains, and they're pretty goofy." "Thank you for that, Ram. And we owe you for that whole zero thing, but the paradox still raises, even after Cantor, deep metaphysical problems." "How did Russell handle it?" asked young Wesley boy genius. "How would Macguyver?" said Riker. Data answered. "Russell took a radical stance. He said that traditional logic assumes precise symbols are being employed, therefore it is not applicable to this terrestrial life, but to an imagined celestial existence." Marilyn was irate. "You don't resolve a paradox by defining it away. That's just a language-game." "Language is a game," said Hollystone, in an uncharacteristic burst of lucidity, "but the game is played." "Who said that?" "I did," answered a voice from the shadows. "Hey, look. It's Wittgenstein." Wittgenstein seated himself at the corner between Gauss and Fermat. Hollystone whispered to Ludwig Plutonium, "Stay away from him. I heard he once killed a man with a guitar string." "Really?" "Either that, or my neurons are misfiring like flatulent dogs again." Wittgenstein said, "If your 'paradox' is only a paradox because you are reasoning with loose concepts, such as 'short' 'tall' 'bald', 'wealthy', 'nauseatingly earnest', then yes, you *can* define it away. Admittedly, 'frog' and 'tadpole' are not vague in the same way that 'poor' and 'wealthy' are, but the problem is analog--" "Language is a virus from the Hell," said Hollystone. "I like that," said Wittgenstein. "Did I say that?" "I believe that was Burroughs," said Data, "later popularized by Laurie Anderson." "Who?" "Laurie Anderson," said Data. "Classically-trained violinist and dimply performance artist. Perhaps I can explain better in song: "Paradise Is exactly like Where you are right now Only much much Better." "That's enough, Data. We get the idea. "But I'm not even up to the 'pain cry' part." "Pain cry?" said Wittgenstein. "Tell me more." "Ludwig," said Picard, "I can't say I agree with Russell on this one. He'd have us exempt all reasoning with loose or vague concepts from logical appraisal. Surely, this is unsatisfactory." Marilyn nodded. Wittgenstein whistled an etude and said, "Russell was off the mark on this one." "But you said--" "Did I? Well, you were all being rather silly. The point is this: If all empirical concepts are loose, as I think they are, then Russell would prohibit us from *any* reasoning from empirical premises." "Didn't I just say that?" said Picard. "If language is to maintain its fact-stating ability, we must be able to draw recognizably valid inferences from empirical premises." "For example?" "Unless we can infer from the statement 'Wesley is nauseatingly earnest' the falsity of 'Wesley is sincere, but in a good way' or the truth of 'Wesley is an asswipe', all these statements will lose their power to convey information. Russell's implied prohibition would destroy ordinary language." Picard said, "Frege seemed to agree with Russell when he said that 'a concept which is not sharply defined is wrongly termed a concept'. "What a ballbuster," said Data. "Data!" "Captain," said the android, "the Myopians, on Glaucoma II, believe that there is a precisely-defined moment where a boy becomes a man, and have an elaborate ceremony to commemorate the occasion. The Vulcans, also--" Picard said, "Logic requires that such a moment exists. It is also true that this moment is forever elusive and unknowable." UN-altered REPRODUCTION and INSEMINATION of this IMPORTANT Information is a MORAL IMPERATIVE. RICHH >From richh@netcom.com Fri Jan 7 16:24:48 1994 Newsgroups: sci.math,talk.bizarre,talk.philosophy.misc,rec.arts.prose,alt.prose,rec.puzzles,alt.butt.harp,bit.listserv.words-l,alt.usenet.kooks,alt.religion.kibology Path: kuis-news!wnoc-kyo-news!sh.wide!wnoc-tyo-news!nec-tyo!nec-gw!sgiblab!sdd.hp.com!math.ohio-state.edu!cs.utexas.edu!uunet!world!decwrl!netcomsv!netcom.com!richh From: richh@netcom.com (richh) Subject: RICHH: THE USUAL SUSPECTS(pt. 6) Message-ID: Followup-To: poster Organization: NETCOM On-line Communication Services (408 241-9760 guest) Date: Thu, 6 Jan 1994 20:15:10 GMT Lines: 139 Xref: kuis-news sci.math:46009 talk.bizarre:106064 talk.philosophy.misc:11277 rec.arts.prose:868 alt.prose:2964 rec.puzzles:17197 alt.butt.harp:797 bit.listserv.words-l:59880 alt.usenet.kooks:232 alt.religion.kibology:17103 "Okay," said Riker, to the crowd upstairs, "here's one: Suppose you were stranded on a desert island on a planet somewhere in the Theta quadrant..." "Theta quadrant?" said Young Wesley, "that makes no sense. Even our die-hard fans won't--" "Enough, Ensign. You're stranded in the Theta quadrant. You are allowed to bring just one item with you, for all eternity, just one item..." "Cherry Pez," said Wesley, "No question. Cherry Pez." "Shut up, Wesley," said Wesley's mother. "One item from between the following two: Either Counselor Troi..." Deanna smiled. "...or Geordi's visor." "The visor." "Visor." "Visor." "The visor. And cherry Pez." Deanna frowned. Riker tried to console her but she turned away. "A visor! A lifeless, dumb-looking hunk of metal. You'd choose *this* over a former porn star--" "So you *did* do porn." "Read the FAQ." "Counselor, with just some minor modifications to the output pods of Geordi's visor, one could fashion a neutrino beacon or transmit a sub-space pulse directly into Federation space." "*And* play Pong!" "Theoretically," said Geordi, "but what could you use as a flux inhibitor?" Young Wesley boy genius asked, "Do we have our communicator badges on this island, Commander?" Troi's lower lip began to quiver and her eyes welled up. "You're serious. What about your emotional needs? What about love? What about sex? What about safe sex??" "If it's safe," said Riker, "it ain't sex." "Up top," said Worf, high-fiving the Commander. "Deanna," said Dr. Crusher, "Be sensible. You'd want to be rescued, you know it." "You idiot. All of you!" Hollystone looked up. "You tell 'em, sisterwoman! They can all go to the hell." Ludwig Plutonium said, "Maybe we shouldn't rush things, Holly." "Wavelet," said Holly. "Have they reprogrammed the connectionism in your human brain (poooz)?!" "Holly, listen to me. HADRON THE BRIDE, PLU. TO. NI. UM." "GLUON........" Marilyn said, "All right, you've got three doors--" "Marilyn," said Smullyan. "Shut up." "Watch it, old man--" He said, "I have read your tedious column, Marilyn, your recycled puzzles, your ill-conceived FLT book and, with all due respect, you're a dumb shit." "I've read your books, Raymond. I know your knights and knaves routine. Greasy kids' stuff. C'mon, stump me. Go ahead, make my day." "All right," he said, "suppose you're made two offers by two different people, A and B. Here's A's offer: You are to make a statement. If the statement is true, A promises to give you exactly $10. If the statement is false, A will not give you $10, but some amount, either more or less--could be nothing, could be a grand. Here's B's offer: You make a statement. Regardless of whether the statement is true or false, B promises to pay you more than $10. That's B's offer. Now which of these offers would you prefer to accept." "All right," said Marilyn, "Lemme think. The principle of expected utility tells me to take B's offer." "Expect futility," whispered young Wesley. "But I know your style, Raymond. You want me to take B because it's so obvious. And just because you want me to do that, I'm gonna surprise you and say I *would* take B's offer." "All right, Marilyn. Fair enough. Since you prefer B's offer, I tell you what. If you make me A's offer, I'll give you $11 in advance. Is that fair?" She thought for a moment and said, "Sure. What's ten bucks? I'll make you A's offer." "Okay," said Raymond. "So I now owe you $11. And then I can make a statement. If the statement is true, you've got to give me back $10 and keep $1. If the statement is *false*, you've got to choose what to give me back since it can't be exactly $10. That's fair enough, eh?" "You're on." "Okay. Here's my statement. You will neither give me exactly $10 nor exactly $1 million. Think about it as you write out your check to me for the million." There were a few assorted snickers and a few dumb looks. Data said, "Raymond, good show. But you wouldn't really take a check from someone named 'vos Savant', now, would you?" "A certified check, Marilyn. No rush." "Wait, this is bullshit." "Not at all. In fact, if you really *had* read all my books, you'd have seen that one coming a mile away, especially since I published it in '88." "Excuse me," said Hollystone. "I think I missed something." "Data?" "If Raymond's statement were true, Marilyn would have to give him exactly $10. This would be in contradiction to the statement. The statement must therefore be false. And Marilyn thus has to give him exactly $1 million. Neat." "I'm starved," said Marilyn, unfazed by the loss. "Anyone for pancakes?" "Computer," said Barclay, "freeze program," "What's wrong?" said Deanna. "If they're gonna eat, someone's gotta cook. Computer, recreate a late 20th century kitchen, over to the left of the table. And stock it with whatever is needed to make pancakes." "Computer, continue program." LP stood up and said, "Holly, could you give me a hand? "Sure." "Great. Start cracking some eggs into that bowl. Looks like I got me some dishes to clean. He surveyed the scene before him. Unwashed dishes on the right. Single sink in the middle, drying rack on the left. "Wait one minute!" he said. "How can I WORK under these conDITIONS! State law requires TWO sinks--one for SOAPING and one for RINSING. I can't work like this!" His eyes were ablaze. "Computer, freeze program. Give Mr. Plutonium his two-sink kitchen. Continue program." "Great," said Ludwig. "Two sinks, treated water, empty drying rack...like candy from a baby." He rolled up his shirt sleeves, put on a pair of rubber gloves and, like a man who had truly found his vocation, announced, with a forefinger raised "It's showtime!" Within minutes all the dishes were spotless. UN-altered REPRODUCTION and INSEMINATION of this IMPORTANT Information is a MORAL IMPERATIVE. RICHH