by Robert Waltz
Not for the faint of art.
A complex number is expressed in the standard form a + bi, where a and b are real numbers and i is defined by i^2 = -1 (that is, i is the square root of -1). For example, 3 + 2i is a complex number.
The bi term is often referred to as an imaginary number (though this may be misleading, as it is no more "imaginary" than the symbolic abstractions we know as the "real" numbers). Thus, every complex number has a real part, a, and an imaginary part, bi.
Complex numbers are often represented on a graph known as the "complex plane," where the horizontal axis represents the infinity of real numbers, and the vertical axis represents the infinity of imaginary numbers. Thus, each complex number has a unique representation on the complex plane: some closer to real; others, more imaginary. If a = b, the number is equal parts real and imaginary.
Very simple transformations applied to numbers in the complex plane can lead to fractal structures of enormous intricacy and astonishing beauty.
|Late 30DBC prompt, so I'll edit this later.
Earlier this week was like:
Me: You know... I'm fully vaccinated, more things are open... I could take a road trip, visit some breweries! And maybe some friends! But mostly breweries!
The Universe: *shuts off gas pipeline to most of the eastern US*
Idiots: *hoard gas in plastic bags, further reducing availability*
Me: ...Oh well. Maybe in a couple of weeks.
The Universe: *plots next move against me*
Idiots: *continue to be idiots*
Yes, yes, I know, it's not all about me, and it wasn't the Universe but some cackling Russian hackers. Still, I reserve the right to take it personally.
PROMPT May 14th
If animals could talk, which animal would you want to have a conversation with? What would you ask?
Well, certainly not my cats. They talk to me enough as it is, and I don't think I can learn anything new from them being able to say "Feed me, human!" in English instead of Meowese.
Definitely not dogs, either. You know how there are some people who talk a lot, mean well, are very friendly, likeable, and charismatic -- and yet, somehow, never have a single thing of consequence to say? That's dogs.
Absolutely not pigs or cows, either. What am I going to ask them? "So, how do you feel about the wholesale breeding and slaughter of your species for the purpose of delivering unto us delicious [burgers/bacon]?" I mean, I'd rather just go on believing that they're fine with it.
So I'm gonna go with raccoons. You know those little bastards would be great conversationalists, even if you wouldn't be able to believe a single word they said. It'd be like:
Me: So, how was your day?
Trash Panda: Oh, you know, the usual. Watching the birds. Raiding trash cans. You would not believe the food some of you humans waste. Or maybe you would. I mean, I still gotta wash it, but it's definitely edible.
Me: Sounds like you've been busy.
Trash Panda: You have no idea. By the way, while I was rinsing off a particularly ripe apple, I saw a bear coming to eat you, so I chased it away.
Me: A bear?
Trash Panda: Yep. You know. Huge, black fur, sharp teeth, big paws? You're welcome.
Trash Panda: So, you know, maybe if I could get your gratitude in the form of a pastrami sandwich? Jewish rye, toasted. Easy on the mustard.
Still, I'm just as glad that animals don't talk. I have enough problems sustaining a conversation with humans.