Fizzicks and Causemology 101: ...Considerations Given Without the Complicated Mathematics...

By John Beaupre

Fizzicks and Causemology 101: ...Considerations Given Without the Complicated Mathematics... by John Beaupre

• Language: English
• Publisher: Page Publishing, Inc.
• Release date: Oct 16, 2023
• ISBN: 9781662464171

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Fizzicks and Causemology 101

...Considerations Given Without the Complicated Mathematics...

John Beaupre

Copyright © 2023 John Beaupre

All rights reserved

First Edition

PAGE PUBLISHING

Conneaut Lake, PA

First originally published by Page Publishing 2023

ISBN 978-1-6624-6416-4 (pbk)

ISBN 978-1-6624-6418-8 (hc)

ISBN 978-1-6624-6417-1 (digital)

Printed in the United States of America

Table of Contents

Preface

Why Fizzicks and Cosmology at All?

Foreword

Chapter 1

Simplicity—Mediocity—Complexity

Chapter 2

Points…and the fact this author grew up on one in Medina, Washington

Chapter 3

CIRCLES…When Spun Become SPHERES…When Spun Become GYROS…Which Behave…

Consistently

Chapter 4

Day One (and the Dawn of Intelligence)

Chapter 5

Considerations Upon c (Light's Speed) And g (Gravity's Speed)

Chapter 6

An (Almost) Infinite Mass at (Almost) Lightspeed

Chapter 7

E = mc2 (Dr. Einstein) V = d/t (Mr. Euclid)

Chapter 8

Lightspeed…Can Be Confusing

Chapter 9

Mario's Champagne

Chapter 10

The Tennis Ball Analogy

Chapter 11

The Significance of 3's (and of 1/3's)

Chapter 12

Particle Gender?

Chapter 15

The Absence Of Anything

Chapter 16

Herb…et al.

Chapter 17

Dimensional Proportionality

Chapter 18

Absolute Zero

Chapter 18A

18A: Considerations And Summary Number One To Absolute Zero

Chapter 18B

18B: Considerations And Summary Number Two To Absolute Zero

Chapter 19

Nothings

Chapter 19A

19A: Consideration Number One Concerning Nothings That Result In Somethings

Chapter 19B

19B: Consideration Number Two Concerning Nothings

Chapter 20

The Opposite Of Entropy Is Contropy

Chapter 20A

20A: The Opposite Of Entropy, Part One: The Science

Chapter 20B

20B: The Opposite Of Entropy, Part Two: Practical Applications

Chapter 20C

20C: The Opposite Of Entropy, Part Three: Contropy

Chapter 20D

20D: Being In The Same Place At The Same Time

Chapter 21

Pi…Is An Irrational Number

Chapter 22

Dear Ian…Life Force

Conclusion

Carl Sagan from Pale Blue Dot, 1994:

About The Author

Preface

Why Fizzicks and Cosmology at All?

How is it best to try to understand the most basic questions?

How are we here? What and where is here?

Why are we here? What is our purpose?

Philosophy (with lots of answers) and religion (with lots of unanswered questions) may be more entertaining pursuits. But, once we, Homo sapiens, change our collective minds and change our collective behaviors, so then our philosophies must (and our religions tend to) change accordingly. Scientology is a rather recent religion, or is it actually a philosophy…for example? Who can say for sure?

Our sciences may mature, but do not and cannot change…and still remain as sciences. Specific scientific understandings, like those within physics and cosmology in particular, are and must remain solid and unchanging. Force has always been and always will be the product of mass times acceleration. Gravity is constant too, and Newton's equation will never change. Nor will the speed of light, nor the ratio of any circumference to its diameter, nor the mass (nor size nor charge) of a proton. Because…

This is our space…but where is it?

This is our time…but when is it?

This book cannot and will not answer these questions exactly. But, its observations will get us closer to whatever understandings and answers are currently available. And…

Mathematics…for other than a very specialized type of person…is (are) confusing. So the ‘math' itself of the science within is minimized herein. Logic, however, is recognizable and is understandable…and is employed throughout this book. So…

Do enjoy the ‘read'…as I have enjoyed the ‘write.'

John Beaupré

Foreword

In June 1984, I wound up in New Orleans, Louisiana. My flight to France and ultimately to Biarritz for a bicycle tour to Barcelona had been canceled…for the day. So I had a day (my first one) to explore New Orleans. Accordingly…

My plan was first to visit the city's highly regarded aquarium, there on Decatur Street. It was a bit of a walk from my hotel on Bourbon Street…and I was wearing my favorite, old, well-used Western cowboy boots. The walk was ‘healthy,' so to stay tuned for the ride, but it was also slower in my old boots. I had purchased them at Cowboyz in Santa Fe for $125 one year earlier. And only I knew that.

En route, I came upon two young boys just ‘hang'n out' by the waterfront there on Decatur. One of the boys, obviously the ‘older and wiser' of the two, stopped me and said, Hey, man, I know where you got dem boots. (Pardon me if you've heard a story like this before, but understand that I had not back then in 1984.)

And I took the bait. I knew for a fact that boy did not know where (in Santa Fe) I had purchased (at Cowboyz) my old boots. So suspecting a hustle of some sort from the kids, I replied, How much? How much will you bet that you know where I got my boots?

The older boy's reply was, Five bucks. And the hustle was on!

I pulled out a Lincoln (their term when they saw my $5 bill) and, a bit like a smart aleck, waved it in their faces. I said, "Okay. I'll take that bet. But where's your five bucks?"

The lead kid replied, My friend here has it, and he'll hold yours too.

I replied, And you and he will run away with my money…right?

No, no, they replied. We'll both put our fives here on the curb…no tricks, and we'll tell you where you got dem boots yer wearin'.

I figured I was in good enough shape and was quick enough to grab my five if they'd ‘split.' And even if not, I was willing to see this through if they ran away. After all, I was confident in my bet and liked this kid's style. The whole exchange was worth five bucks anyway.

The next minute or two seemed more like an hour…and was well worth it. The older boy moved into the best ‘moonwalk' I'd ever seen, better even than Michael Jackson's…and did so while the smaller kid beat out a rhythm on his thighs. They both performed a kind of very early ‘rap' tune for me:

Ya got dem boots on yer feet, and

Ya got yer feet on Decatur Street, and

Dat's where ya got dem boots.

I'd been had—clearly! I'd lost the bet, fair and square!

So I picked up my five before they could, and they essentially and in tandem both responded, C'mon, man, we told you right…yes?

I replied, Yep, you did…and good for you. Then I replaced my $5 bill with a $10 bill and asked them, Please do that one more time. It was worth it. You moonwalk better than Jackson, and you're right—I do ‘got' my feet in my boots here on your street!

They repeated their routine. I paid. They smiled. And I asked, On a good day, how many times do you guys do this?

They replied, 'Bout twenty on a really good day…kinda like t'day.

I figured (to myself): Say a hundred dollars plus cash per day, say five to seven hundred, tax-free per week is not bad for a couple of enterprising twelve- or fourteen-year-old boys…here in New Orleans. Good for them!

Again, so what? Why now, after almost thirty-seven years, do I (or can I) even bother to remember this?

Answer: It was a perfectly logical and symmetrical (both sides won) and enjoyable and memorable event at a specific point in time, and it occurred at a very perfect place…visited once only. And the experience, for $10, was definitely worth it. The memory of it is stored in my ‘gray matter,' along with the moment I asked Sharon to marry me, and she said yes (at the LA airport, Trans World Airlines arrival gate in 1968) and the moment that I won my first ski race (actually, first run of a slalom) at White Pass, Washington. I recall that finish in particular and still have my blue ribbon…but forgot the date! Anyway, they all remain special points and places in time. Note also that Sharon and I have been married now for almost fifty-five years!

Question: what does all this have to do with science? Answer: Everything. And this would be…

‘Close enough' to what we can at best recall…perhaps it's a bit like quantum mechanics? And this explains…what? QM has been, to date, always ‘close enough,' but this needs to be discussed a bit later…possibly in Fizzicks 201. Back to 1984, and if confused, the sense of it all is where I was and when I was then…and that that confirms the point of my existence…both then and now.

Our ride across southern France and northern Spain, through the Pyrenees and across ‘Basque-land' was great. The cycling and the roads were near perfect, and I repeated my $5 then $10 ‘dem boots' story to my friends several times. Then upon my way back to the United States…

For no particular reason, other than an enduring interest in science fiction at the time, I decided upon a movie when back in New Orleans. I found I had almost another day…actually, a ten-plus-hour layover. What to do? It was a short cab ride, and the theater ticket was $2.50 less than my total bets had been back on Decatur. A movie, any movie, would be a much more interesting choice than sitting in an airport for ten hours. The film I chose was Buckaroo Banzai, Across the Eighth Dimension. I saw it for the first time then, and yes, I've seen it several times since. It too, for a science fiction connoisseur, is definitely worth it. Peter Weller's (the lead actor's) best line as Buckaroo (the film's protagonist) was, as I recall it almost perfectly today:

Wherever ya go, there you are.

It was a take upon the logic of Confucius, and so, out of some curiosity, I checked further and the actual film clip confirmed it:

No matter where you go…there you are.

So what? The messages and logic were and are identical.

June of 1984 again… Ten-plus days earlier, I'd begun with my feet (in dem boots) on Decatur Street. Then I'd had my feet (primarily in my cycling shoes) clipped to my bike's pedals, both in France and in Spain. And then having flown a second time over the Atlantic Ocean, I was once again back in Louisiana in a theater watching Mr. Bonzai, and then would be headed back to the New Orleans airport, ultimately to be flown back to Albuquerque, New Mexico, where I'd drive back to Santa Fe. Most assuredly then…

Wherever I had gone, there I had been.

It occurred to me, as had been confirmed to me collectively by those enterprising boys and Confucius and then also by Buckaroo:

Ya gotta be somewhere…always.

If this seems too obvious upon which to spend much time thinking (or writing?), it is worth knowing this: One's location in one's space at any moment both defines and itself exists as one's place in one's time. After all, why are we here? What is our purpose? For us, any and all of us, to exist, what is the actual ‘reason'?

First, there is (has to be) space—which is absolute necessity number 1. Space's absence would be the ultimate contradiction of any existence. Then also, there has to be (must always have been) time—which is absolute necessity number 2. Put them together—that is, recognize and/or experience them simultaneously—and there is place. And a place for everyone and for everything is mandatory. We do not live in some sort of colossal hologram.

Wherever ya go, there you are.

and

Ya gotta be somewhere.

Actually…

I'd started in Santa Fe, stopped over in New Orleans, lost $10 to the kids, flown to Paris, then to Biarritz, unpacked my bike, pedaled to Barcelona, repacked my bike, driven back to Paris, flown back to New Orleans, caught a cab, gone to a movie, caught a late plane to Albuquerque, and driven home…all in roughly twelve days of my time. I had, via just that trip and those experiences, utilized my time (about 1,036,800 seconds of it) and had experienced a lot of my very own ‘places.' I was able to have done this because…

Because of what's already happened over time. So in the general order of occurrence and from day one:

First there is (must have been) space. Then

add time, and there was…

place, which was first occupied by…

energy, initially, as was our universe's creation via…

the Big Bang, which over time cooled to create…

matter (recall: E does equal mc²), which was first represented by…

the original particles, which somehow…

assumed identities (as in individual masses, with or without electrical charges but with spins and valences) and…then they…

became organized as atoms, which in a very short time…

formed elements, primarily two gases, being…

hydrogen, first and foremost, and then…

helium, secondly. And both of them, while just ‘floating around' in an infant universe…

experienced gravity, which caused them to…

coalesce into stars that initiated fusion and…

into planets that did not, but included one that accumulated…

water, and an atmosphere that was close enough to its star so to experience sufficient…

heat that when combined with…

inorganic substances and chemicals (and the liquid water), they somehow reorganized themselves as…

organic substances and cells that…

incorporated into (or created?) life, which…

was able to reproduce as…

living organisms that have resulted in…

us!

Got it? That's essentially how it all came down…to allow me to have taken my trip. Without any one of these specific events above having happened first and in the exact order as above, I would not have lost (spent?) $10 with those kids, nor cycled to Barcelona, nor would I have seen Buckaroo Bonzai. It's simple as that.

I'm very sure that I did take/make that trip. But how are we to know for sure what happened before, long before me, so that I could have done so? And the honest answers are the following:

We don't know but We're workin' on it.

There's a lot of matter and energy left to explain and to experience out and about, and probably plenty well beyond what we can know and understand. So we basically ‘guess.' We theorize and try to predict what is here and what is there and how it all works. And that is…

the physics (aka Fizzicks)

And also, we want to know (1) how and (2) when it all came to be and would like to know (3) where. And that is…

the cosmology (aka Causemology)

And that's why I've taken the time to write this book while, and at the same time(s), I've also tried to avoid the mathematics…so to retain—much like my trip and Buckaroo's common sense were—to make it simple…simple to understand.

The science(s), more specifically the currently existing mathematics, is (are) complicated and confusing. Here's hoping enough of it (the complicated math) has been avoided. Therefore…

Perhaps if I can sell enough books, I can take another trip. And if this, my math, is really simple, then…

I can start all over again!

Good reading to you all. Let me know if you enjoyed your time doing it.

Chapter 1

Simplicity—Mediocity—Complexity

Mediocity? Not mediocrity. Mediocity is logically halfway between simplicity and complexity. It would be a new word—my own.

We (those I can remember and I) began our ‘formal educations' in kindergarten. Montessori and ‘day schools' did not exist when we were age five.

In our kindergarten, we were not ‘graded' per se. It was a show up or not sort of preschool. Not even pass or fail. It was pure simplicity: Just show up or not. But I do remember those early rides to school. Mom's car smelled like damp cloth…or something close to it due to the very wet climate there in the Pacific Northwest.

First grade at age six was distinctly more structured. We had assigned seats and books, not just play areas and toys. There were report cards…and real ‘friends.' Those real friends got report cards too. We all naturally (?) wanted our cards to be better than their cards. Even if grades were either pass or not pass. Fail, even back then, was considered demeaning…or whatever. Most everyone I recall passed anyway. ‘Failing' first grade was not an option.

And our early education remained relatively simple in our little grade school in Medina, Washington. Plus, there was Margot McDonald; she was really pretty, but no one could explain the spelling (that should have been) Margo (without the T). Of note here: Margot M. wound up marrying Mitch Milias, a fraternity brother of mine at Stanford, years later. Some paths run near parallel over time. Ours did. We stay in touch.

Also in grade 1 was Johnny Meisnest. He was a bit different. He collected bugs back then…like every bug he could find. I don't recall Johnny M. past grade 3 or 4. As said: Some paths do and some do not run parallel. Ours did not.

But early on, grade school remained simple if only just to rate or, better, to have rated one's attendance…with a bit of enjoys participation and relates with others notations added. These provided some measure of our early educations. Simplicity prevailed nonetheless.

The first actual grades on take-home report cards came shortly thereafter. These grades, neither objective nor alphabetical, were instead rather subjective and limited to four ‘judgments'; either 1 = Excellent or 2 = Good or 3 = Fair or 4 = Poor. There was no 5 = Bad, like there had been no fail earlier. Grades 3, 4, and 5 actually had grades. One was judged either excellent or good or fair or poor. Excellence was achievable, and poorness was to be avoided at all costs!

Grades 6, 7, and 8 were more difficult to define. Junior high school was finally defined as actual grades 7 and 8. So grade 6 was our last chance at excellence. Grade 7 and up was the ‘real deal.' Margot M. was there; Johnny M. was not. We then first received letter grades…so A, B, C, or D, and possibly F. Note: Grades had neither definitions nor translations, except for F, which clearly stood for fail, also clearly a definition of failure and was again to be avoided at all costs.

So our pre-high school student rankings remained, for the first time, alphabetical, and simplicity had been replaced with mediocity. That is to say if one was paying attention, one was regarded as being either an A or B or C student. I don't recall that any D student rankings were assigned.

Those with Fs were (rather unceremoniously) held back to repeat grades 7 or 8. Being ‘held back' was again to be avoided. Two ‘goofball' kids—I recall their faces but not their names—simply disappeared…only to reappear later in different schools. One for sure reappeared and then enrolled at our Bellevue High School, but as a ‘special needs' sort of student. A nice guy, but I assume he never graduated. However, he was a terrific linebacker and fullback on our football team…and ‘started' all three years while I was there. Maybe he did so a few more after I graduated…it's hard to know for sure.

One might say that the letter grades were the transition between the simplistic (pass-fail) and more mediocitic (new word again) alphabetical grading. For sure, when letter grades became quantified, mediocity had been definitely achieved. Said system of quantification was very logical and easy therefore to actually ‘quantify': A = 4 points, B = 3, C = 2, D = 1, and F = 0 points. Mediocity had been achieved, nonetheless.

So then we, as students entering high school (so grades 9–12) as freshmen, had pre-earned an academic ‘value.' An equal number of As and Bs in junior high were now worth a score of 3.5. Bs and Cs would result in scores between 2.0 and 3.0, etc. Obviously, it was advantageous to have obtained all the As possible so as to post a four-point average or as close as possible when entering high school.

Both Margot and I had 4.0s, and we met our ‘equals' at Bellevue High School in September 1956. Margot, I recall, had Jennifer Dunn and Lynn Goddess and several other ‘smart girls' with which to compete. But, it was the guys' competitions that seemed to really matter to us. In retrospect, we were and behaved like classic but novice ‘chauvinist' freshmen from day one. I recall John King, Victor Parker, Kenny Emanuels, but no girls, therefore, as immediate competitors. In retrospect, our now ‘sexist' behaviors had begun early on!

These quantified grades, or numerical scores, became grade point averages (GPAs), which were real, comparable measures of our academic success(es) or not. From that day forward, GPAs were the measure of our success.

Mediocity had already been achieved, and complexity was well in sight. Those ‘four-point' As were of absolute importance. Three-point Bs were undesirable. So we began as freshmen with six classes per day—three in the morning, then lunch, and three in the afternoon. The scholastic or ‘academic year' came in three ‘semesters'…actually a misnomer. There were instead actually three each, three-month trimesters: fall, winter, and spring quarters as generally recognized. We all had our summers off. There were no summer school options then.

So, each quarter included six classes per day times three or a total of eighteen grade scores per year. Straight As were equal to 4 × 18 or 72 total points. Straight Bs totaled 54, and so forth. So, with a mixture of As and Bs (Cs were unacceptable), say 63 total points, divided by 18 (classes), equaled a GPA of 3.5. Throw in some, say three Cs, and 60/18 = 3.33 GPA, etc.

This system, when first compared to the simplicity of grade school and then to the mediocity of junior high, was relatively complex. About the end of our sophomore and then the beginning of our junior years, Ms. Lear (who taught English and Latin) and Ms. Hardy (who taught geometry and algebra) began using pluses and minuses with their letter grades. So, depending upon one's viewpoint, both an A- and a B+ might have been arguably ‘worth' 3.5 points, which did not seem reasonable. So, an A- was assigned a score of 3.7, and a B+ scored 3.3. The mathematical equivalents of letter grades retained their proportionality. A flat 3.5 individual grade was essentially impossible. Complexity was in force to stay.

That's the way it remained through our senior years. JK (John King), Vic (Parker), Kenny (Emanuels), and I were neck and neck at graduation.

We all showed GPAs of 3.8 and above. But then, as if out of nowhere, came Richard Smaby. Richard who? I recall JK had a 3.93 (so one or maybe two Bs over those entire four years). I figured I would come in second with my 3.87 accum. But Smaby, whom none of us expected at all, tallied a 3.90 flat. It was a shocker for sure!

JK was our valedictorian (number one/highest GPA) graduate with his .03 edge over Richard. Again, I'd expected to be salutatorian (so number two), but Smaby aced me out by his .03 edge as well. These differences amounted not to letter grades but rather to an A+ (plus) or to an A- (minus) somewhere, sometime over our four years. I wound up number three, and there is no Greek title nor ‘name' for that…just second runner-up! It was really that close…but a nameless ‘podium' finish only for me nonetheless.

The scoring, even in high school, was again a bit complex back then in 1959, but not nearly as complex as it has become currently. Back then, again in the 1950s and 1960s (and I'd note: pre-computers, since we had none), 3.85+ GPAs were good enough for application to almost any top college or university. GPAs of 4.0+ are almost required for most of the same applications today. In fact, 5.0 GPAs, impossible then, are achievable now.

The exact abilities between top students were then decided by the SATs = Scholastic Aptitude Tests. For whatever reasons back then, maximum scores on either SAT ‘half,' which were the language or verbal (first) half and the math (second) half, were 800 each—not 100 or 1000 but 800. I was best at math and science, scored well enough on the written half and 800 on the math…and was accepted at both Dartmouth College and Stanford University as a ‘pre-med' major. I accepted Stanford. JK and Smaby, I recall, both scored 800s on their language exams and well enough on math. JK graduated from Harvard Law School. Smaby, as was his more ‘clandestine' style, chose a more obscure university but apparently went on to obtain his PhD from MIT or its equivalent. I never knew for sure…‘sneaky' as he was. He married his high school sweetheart, and the two became expert tango dancers…as confirmed via our later class reunions.

As it turned out, four of us: Vic Parker, Ken Emanuels, Margot McDonald (remember her from grade school?), and I chose Stanford. They all graduated on-time, so in 1963. I graduated in my time, actually twenty-one years later, so in 1984…for reasons far too complicated to fully enumerate herein.

My sister Linda, also a product of Bellevue High School, also attended Stanford. Though four years younger than I, she finished on-time in 1967, actually seventeen years before I did. Again, the reasons for my delay, i.e. military service and the start of a restaurant chain, were ‘reasonable' interludes, but again, themselves complex and discussed no further herein!

Why all this detail? Back in 1959, again our high school graduation year, a 3.8+ GPA of any merit and a combined SAT score of 1450+ were good enough for application and acceptance to either Harvard or MIT or Dartmouth or Stanford or to almost any other top college or university. By the time my sister applied, so four years later in 1963, the GPA requirement was closer to 3.90+ and 1500+ was necessary on the SAT. This in turn required a great deal of scoring proficiency (or proficiencies) for high school grads…like plenty or better, exclusively As and A+s back then. And so going forward…

Education entered the age of 5-point classes. These were essentially introduced in the latter 1960s about the time my sister graduated. To meet the GPA demands then of top colleges and universities, gifted and talented or simply extra credit courses of all kinds and descriptions became commonplace in high schools. It is hard to explain how an A+ grade, then the highest and worth 4.3 points, was fairly exceeded. But the g and t 5-pointers were awarded rather liberally…and the calculation of fair and comparable GPA scores became very, very complex indeed. And they have become only more complex today…which in turn has become a metaphor for any measure of intelligence one purports to define. Private high schools and advanced-placement studies now offer a preponderance of 5-point rather than 4-point classes. When the prior 4-point-plus maximum math no longer applies, the question becomes: Are 5-point students today any more intelligent than were 4-point students then? (Or what letter comes before A?)

Per a recent statistic: Stanford University, my alma mater, had enough quality applicants to fill its entering freshman class of 2021 (so applied in 2017) all but three times over and all with A+ or 4-point GPA or better students. The question remains: Was this class