0.999...

Yes, I know. Two posts in less than an hour. Sad.


However, this MUST be brought to light.

While visiting the Wikipedia site, oh, about 5 minutes ago, I noticed the "Featured article of the day", which is about the number 0.999..., which theoretically trails on indefinitely.

I have no problem with this.

However, it says that, in most textbooks and by most mathemeticians' standards, 0.999... is equal to 1.

This is apparently common knowledge, folks, and can be PROVED in a variety of ways.

I am, therefore led to the following two assumptions:

1. Mathematicians have way too much time on their hands. Proving that 0.99... equals 1? Einstein at least made up something theoretically useful. Theoretically.

So, have mathematicians run out of things to theoretically prove? Or, are they just slacking off?

2. Math, as we know it, is wrong. What other explanation could there be? When one number that is so obviously different from another number is equal to the second number, and this can be PROVEN, what does that tell us about the innocuous number system that we teach to our students every day? It must be flawed. In my opinion, 0.999... can aspire all it wants to be 1, but it will NEVER be equal to 1. NEVER! Instead of trying to put shackles on 0.999... and try to make it and 1 equal, we should embrace its innate differences and love it for what it truly is.

I will fight to defend the honor of 0.999... and 1 just as I would fight for... well...

Obviously, it has been much too long since I updated.

I knew this would be a problem.


To bring everyone (although I doubt enough people read this to count as 'everyone') up to speed, here are some of the more important things that have happened to me recently:


1. A performance of Haydn's Missa in tempore belli, aka. the Paukenmesse. It was wonderful to sing with an orchestra again. This mass was, as legend has it, composed by Haydn as he heard the approaching artillery from Napoleon's unstoppable war machine as it ground its way across Austria. Haydn used brass fanfares and the tympani (or pauken in German, hence the name) to recreate these sounds. Listen to the Agnus Dei for best effect.





2. The Rolling Stones. The Stones are a group that people note as a landmark in their concert lives, and I am no different. Yes, they're old. Yes, their popularity waned years ago. Yes, I spent more money than I should have on a ticket. Yes, they were awesome. And the Dave Matthews Band, who opened for them, was pretty darn good too. You heard me. Dave Matthews. Rolling Stones. Awesome drips from every pore.



3. Christopher Aitken. A wonderful friend and musician, Mr. Aitken came to visit last week, to see The Pass and to look into the prospect of taking my job when I leave this year. A good time was had by all, at least when Czechs, one-way streets, and random bars weren't involved. The fun was to be had in Der Messias (Blick auf!) and... well, Charlotte's Web.

Don't expect it to make sense.

Sadly, no pictures of his time in El Paso were taken, so I decided to add the picture of the first thing to come up on a Google image search of "Christopher Aitken". If this guy had a dictionary entry, it would say, "see also - smarmy lawyer".






And that pretty much brings you up to speed. I'm still very busy with school, which dominates much of my time. Papers, reports, analysis, studying, etc. All part of grad school. When something else comes up, I'll be more punctual in writing about it.

For, well, whomever reads this.

Random thought of the day...

Okay, so I was recently using the bathroom (what a great way to start a post...), and I was reminded of something I've been wondering for some time now. Each and every one of you has probably entered a bathroom and begun to do bathroom-type things, when you take notice of someone else in a nearby stall (or urinal). This person could not help but be aware of your presence (the door-opening makes noise, after all), and yet... they are making, well, a discomforting amount of audible noise. Vocal noise. CONTROLLABLE noise. You wonder, "Man, why isn't that guy quieter?" I know I never make sound in the bathroom, for fear of being heard just like this guy.

But.

What if... I DO make noise. What if I think I'm silent, but I actually am just as bad as this guy? Do I not notice? Am I to... occupied?









This is a chilling thought.

Now, for a limited time only...

So, I had an interesting experience today. Yes, interesting enough to actually update my blog (which I knew I wouldn't ever do enough...). Today in choir rehearsal, a girl passed me a note.

"A note?" you say.

"Yes, a note," I reply matter-of-factly.

"Why, it's been forever since I've seen a note passed. Surely, juvenile behavior like that hasn't happened since 7th grade!"

I raise my eyebrow and say in an indignant tone, "Yeah, well..."


Obviously, I'm not good with comebacks. I was actually passed a note, however, and it read as follows:

We need a new
strong lively voice for
our El Paso Honda spots.
Would you be interested
in coming in to read
a test script?

If you know me (which, chances are, you do), you know that I probably giggled (inwardly) with delight at such an offer. It turns out that this young lady (who's really older than me) works for an advertising company here in the The Paso that deals with both TV voiceovers and finding old Mexicans to play Mexican grandparents in those stereotypical Mexican sitcommy type shows where people get hit on the head a lot. Don't lie to me and say you haven't watched Univision for 5 minutes before, hoping you could understand what the show was about, and then realizing that it's probably just about people getting hit in the head by an older Mexican grandparent.

Apparently, I have what's considered a "strong lively voice" and have been deemed worthy of a car commercial audition. Like any inwardly giddy person, therefore, I've been practicing all night, saying things like, "check out our new '07 Accords, only $14,995!", much to the chagrin of my fiancee.

The real irony is that, out of all possible commercials on television, the kind I hate the most is probably the stereotypical "local car dealership commercial". Irony at it's finest. But, if they like my voice, and I get paid, it's a sweet irony. And if it doesn't work out, maybe I can get a job as a Mexican grandparent.

Or at least someone who gets hit in the head by one.

Out in the West Texas town of El Paso...

If you know me (which, chances are, you do if you're reading this), you know that I currently reside is sunny (usually) El Paso, Texas, home of cacti, Mexicans, and the University of Texas at El Paso. I'm a Teaching Assistant in the music department at UTEP... blah blah blah.

Anyway, part of my duties are to help out with the UTEP Marching Miners. Yesterday was the first home game of the season, where the mighty Miners took on the Texas Tech Red Raiders. UTEP lost in overtime, oh well, but I still wanted to put up some pictures from the insane event. The picture above was taken from the roof of the Sun Bowl (yes, the roof), with one football game and approximately 55,000 people below me. Alejandro, my newfound Mexican friend (and we're talking REAL Mexican - he's from Merida, on the Yucatan Peninsula, which is about as far from home as I) took this one.

To your right is the same Sun Bowl, from the same Sun Bowl Roof, but in the early evening (I know, my chronology is screwed up). Past the stadium and some of West El Paso are the beautiful Franklin Mountains. They're beautiful in this picture, anyway. Only a few of the teeming masses have arrived at this point.







This teeming mass, however, is the UTEP Marching Band. The square monstrosity in in the background is my Pew-away-from-Pew, the Fox Fine Arts Center. It's good to see that UTEP allows me to continue my streak of "Schools of Higher Learning Attended in Which the Fine Arts Complex Matches No Other Building On Campus". My SHLAWFACMNOBOC, if you will.

"Ef-Fac", by the way, is in no way as melodious when flowing off the tongue as "Pee-Fac". You know you agree.

But it does beat Shlawfacmnoboc.


Well, that's all for now, folks. Bed awaits.

Oh, and if you're bored, listen to Bach's Brandenburg Concerti. They're exquisite.




Shlawfacmnoboc.

Well, I finally did it. Did what? (That's what you're supposed to say. Since you can't take part in the conversation yourself, I'm taking the liberty of asking the question that you would undoubtedly ask if I were to make such a statement in your presence. You're welcome.)

Went to the moon? No. If Shatner doesn't want space, neither do I.

Captured a crazed lunatic? I'll leave that to the New York State Police. (Just give them a few months.)

Brought about world peace? (Sorry, no link for that.)


The answer, obviously, is that I've finally succumbed to the viral infection spreading about the Internet known as THE BLOG. You might be able to tell from my reference to blogging as a "viral infection" that I haven't always been keen on the idea of staking claim to my own little plot of land in the the limitless Western-esque Internet Frontier. Don't get me wrong, I like blogs. Reading about other people's lives is fun, for some reason, I do it often. The problem I've had is that I never thought I had anything important enough to say to, well, the world. It's always seemed like such a responsibility -- not unlike claiming land in the Old West.

But, I figured I might as well give it a shot. Do I suddenly have something I deem worthy of telling the English-speaking masses of the world? Nope. Chances are, I probably won't But I have realized that the beauty of blogging is just that - no one does. Well, usually. It's all fun, games, stories for friends, and hilariously inane findings from around the Internet. So, Readers (assuming I might someday have some), enjoy.



And for those of you (see: everyone) who would have rather seen me skip my Useless and Boring Rationale of Blogdom, because it's not fun, a game, a story, or hilariously inane... well, here's something hilariously inane. Or, at least, inane.