11 days post Election of the apocalypse day 343 (writing)

I swam 1900 yards.  Why not 2,000?  I was surprised I managed to get in 1900.  I physically, easily could have gone another 500 yards, but mentally I was well beyond what I had hoped to do

I need to stop watching television which would require some major life changes.  It is 2:am and I gave up on any attempt at sleep.  Fortunately, after the swim, I fell asleep early so I think I have had enough sleep to get me through a long day even if I don't go back to bed, but it is dark and lonely and the night is full of terrors, as was said in GOT.

There is so much I could worry about. but it is my own future that weighs most heavily.  Perhaps if there was no pandemic, no rising fascism, no pending economic collapse, a smaller national debt, no world wide rivalry, no outsourcing of manufacturing then I could ignore my own concerns.  But my own life is just as poised on a precipice and I feel like a microcosm of the world.  My vision has reached the point which I knew it would get to eventually, where it interferes with working, although with large screens and enhanced fonts i have not been stopped, it is one more challenge that slows me down, that makes the next 100 yards more than I can tackle.

In June of 2019 a year and a half ago, I dedicated myself to moving my model of the pre-thermodynamic universe from a hobby to a model with utility.  By January, six months later, I had exceeded my own expectations, but had gotten no further in terms of receiving funding.  I now have verification of the model which has gotten significant attention; but I am the victim of  the same cognitive dissonance and institutional prejudice that I faced before I was able to verify the science and if my efforts are not rewarded in the next 34 days, I am not sure if I can continue, I'm not sure if I can go even that extra 100 yards; much less the many months that stretch out between now and the next round of potential funding.  

I am an iconoclast and as I watch the slow parallel march of false science; I feel increasingly isolated even as the opportunities and potential for the project grow.

I have not written a novel or even done significant editing for months, perhaps a year as I pursued with as much diligence as is imaginable, with complete focus this scientific endeavor.  I put a great deal of technical work into physics, surprising myself at times, possibly fooling myself at others; but bridging with mathematics chemistry and physics.  For all that, I know that the odds are against me for now, that I have to brace myself and prepare for the next marathon even before the current one is finished.  

I went alone into the woods yesterday, far enough that I was able to get lost and a little worried about leaving most of my water behind me, but my navigating skills and an adequate if not exceptional map kept me pretty sure that I knew approximately where I was and it was spiritual at a time when I needed spiritual and gave me something more immediate to fear.

The plan was to work through this list but it has been literally weeks since I first stumbled upon it and that hasn't happened.  It goes back to the need to go somewhere without television.

Unfortunately, for the time being I have tied my future to grant writing and that means staying where I have the resources to pump out 4 or 5 in the waning months of this year, including securing the intellectual property that goes along with them.

Even as the funding appears to be moving further out of reach, I am hoping to expand the non-monetary assistance in the near future, but we'll see.  I have locational issues to work through there and the fantasies that went along with those issues seem to have been trapped and withered in the pandemic along with everything else.

I've picked a road to travel and I will continue down it, for better, for worse, a little longer, another 100 yards and perhaps another 100 yards beyond that.

 Forbes: How To Build A Successful Writing Career Through Self-Publishing. https://www.forbes.com/sites/meimeifox/2019/05/14/how-to-build-a-successful-writing-career-through-self-publishing/

1. Find an editor who loves your voice. Query several. Interview them.
2. Edit mercilessly for pacing and flow.
3. Pay for a fantastic cover that makes your intended audience pause and take a second look. The cover is about the content of the book and should reflect both the content and you (the author) equally.
4. Go where the readers are (e.g. Goodreads, a social media website for readers).
5. Tell your readers where to find you and be there consistently (Facebook, Twitter, email, website, newsletter).
6. Build your audience. Slowly. Carefully. Methodically. Never let them go. Don’t look over their heads for new readers. These first passionate readers will use word-of-mouth to promote you and your work—forever—if you treat them with respect.
7. Don't sacrifice quality for short term gains.
8. Finally, being an author is not luck. Yes, there is an element of luck in successfully making a living as an author. But being an author is not luck. You write or you don't. You finish or you don't. You have 100% control over whether or not you're an author. Only you.

Election day of the apocalypse 332

 Well today could be terrible or it could change dramatically, and then there is the election.

Today is the first day in a while when I did nothing but walk the dog.  It's not too late to do a short yoga workout, but I just ate and I'm not sure what I have in me.  And the truth is that I just can't care about anything else.

That is what i wrote a few hours ago.  At 330 i gave up on sleep.  It isn't the elections although it could be.   I think the  country can survive either of the old men running.   If anything i question a country that believes this is the best it can do. 

I am jealous of those who can find nothing worse to keep them awake. 

Day 331 of the apocalypse, the day before the election

 What a long day.

I am exhausted, maybe sick.

I ate a terrible lunch because I only had 15 minutes and made a bad judgement call.

It is the most momentous election of our lives and we are apart.

It is both inappropriate and consistent and a sign of everything wrong with everything else.

I should be get psychiatric help, but instead I just talk to my blog.

I've switched from swimming to yoga because the pool and the outside temperature are not cooperating.  That isn't helping things, muscles which haven't been used in a long time hurt and 30 minutes is not long enough and 45 minutes seems like forever.

I'm supposed to acknowledge my failures and apologize sincerely, but I am not ready to move on.

I am a living ghost.  I think we are all ghosts, pretending to be alive until one day we are not.

I think I need to apologize to someone else, and move on to another life after death.

A writer needs a voice.  This is my voice.  I hide it except for you.

It's no wonder that I don't write well, its because the only time when i can use my voice is when I am writing to you.

Everything ends, but not everything has to end.

At some point in time I lost everything and at one point in time I had everything.

The nights are growing longer, colder.

It mocks the growing darkness inside of me.

day 330 of the apocalypse and the writing part (a) of 8

I was at work long before the sun came up.

I could go to sleep, the writing is going from quasi lucid to not lucid.

I did get the minimum work done, a day ahead of schedule although I am not sure whether I'll get to the next project before November.  I cannot believe this country.

No more politics.

I'm watching the storm coming, a metaphorical storm, I think the real one was 4 days ago.

My favorite place to eat lunch has all specials I like next week.  How very odd.  Its a big week, heavy on Monday and Friday, light in the middle.

How can I explain what is happening right now?

I figured out the tie in between electromagnetism and fusion, and it shows why fusion is so complex, it is different than perhaps I thought it would be, although not so much so that it is a shock.

The what is a shock, another feed from the universe which oddly seems to continue to think I need its help.

I love deeply and commit deeply, two things which have torn my mind in half.  And torn my heart, like a flag in a hurricane.

I regret what I have done to others, I dislike what I've done to myself.

Next week is a opportunity to begin a sea change, but there remain two course corrections that have yet to bear results for better or worse.  As I sail into the next hurricane, the sales unfurled, the batons undone, the reefing clews askew, the jib secured, at least the flying jib in storage for the moment.

Who can wait to live?  Not me and not you, right?

Here is the prequel to some future posts, maybe who knows what will happen tomorrow or even if there will be a tomorrow.

Forbes: How To Build A Successful Writing Career Through Self-Publishing. https://www.forbes.com/sites/meimeifox/2019/05/14/how-to-build-a-successful-writing-career-through-self-publishing/

1. Find an editor who loves your voice. Query several. Interview them.
2. Edit mercilessly for pacing and flow.
3. Pay for a fantastic cover that makes your intended audience pause and take a second look. The cover is about the content of the book and should reflect both the content and you (the author) equally.
4. Go where the readers are (e.g. Goodreads, a social media website for readers).
5. Tell your readers where to find you and be there consistently (Facebook, Twitter, email, website, newsletter).
6. Build your audience. Slowly. Carefully. Methodically. Never let them go. Don’t look over their heads for new readers. These first passionate readers will use word-of-mouth to promote you and your work—forever—if you treat them with respect.
7. Don't sacrifice quality for short term gains.
8. Finally, being an author is not luck. Yes, there is an element of luck in successfully making a living as an author. But being an author is not luck. You write or you don't. You finish or you don't. You have 100% control over whether or not you're an author. Only you.

Day 324 of the apocalyspe Global warming

I have more than 500 draft posts,.

Some start like this:

Why 4. 5 Billion Years of Fluctuating Global Temperatures Can't Explain Climate Change Today http://flip.it/1WS.rG

Maybe I will talk about that, I think today I will do a chronology.

I woke up and had my coffee.

I took a shower after the biking and weights so I did not shower, this morning, that will come back later in this short blog.

 I was anxious to get the work done that I set out to get finished originally by Halloween and now by Wednesday.

Over the morning I managed to finish the design and drafting work on electromagnetism and its relationship to fusion which was gratifying.

Then I went to eat and came back to a homeless person sitting on my porch.  He also had not showered, a kindred spirit.  I said I would come back to that.  It was an awful thing to witness, him sitting there like he owned the place with his shoes off in a bucket, smelling for all the world like he had not showered in weeks.  People don't need to shower, but he was filthy.

I did not chase him off, but neither did I engage with him.

He volunteered that he did not know I was there, and suggested he was there to consult with me.  I asked him about what and without listening for long determined, well confirmed my determination that there was no reason to continue the conversation and referred him elsewhere which was all an act since he had just found a place to sit and neither of us expected anything from one another.

Later in the day he would come back and case my car.

Before that, however, I finished enough of the paper so that all I have left is to renumber and organize the parts that were already filed and are, therefore, only supplementary.  If I can finish that early tomorrow, I can file the first one and then there is the onerous task of cutting the second paper down to 30-60 pages from 130.  I have already largely planned that process, so I feel comfortable I can finish it Wednesday before the storm.

Then I swam, not a terrible swim, 2400 yards, then I walked.  I ate my dinner, a banana, while I walked.  At the bottom of the walk, before the uphill climb I put on the two videos which I had only grazed when they were sent and they kept me going, as much knowing where they came from and knowing how they could give some peace, the scars as passengers, like the scars on my heart, there was something in the second one also, but I cannot remember what it was; something about not wanting regrets which was troubling, but it was nice to hear something upbeat.

I am avoiding even the jokes about the election at this point in time, things have gotten so out of hand, some unbelievable, even in a world driven by inevitability; this world seems hopelessly stupid.

If I do keep to my schedule, I will have almost a week to prepare for my meetings; that is good.  I don't know that it will help so much because I only need a day or two.   Perhaps I will pick up one of my books and write.  I would like that, I think.  I have spent too much time on the science, now I feel like I've reached a resting point.   I've said that before, but I tied up the last of the quantum loose ends today and don't really have any plans for any others.

And that is that, that was my day.  Day 324 of the apocalypse.

Day 323 of the apocalypse and Dussehra, the triumph

Yesterday I rode, then swam.  Today I rode and lifted weights and rode again.  Always in search of a few minutes sleep, never finding it.  I do feel on that last and steepest, longest hill up I got close to some endpoint of things, but not yet.

I have my work cut out for me, the 7 days I had left, at least technically, have been cut down to 3, but I think I can do it, no work of art, but a work of adequacy, buying quite a bit of time, a year or two.

Dussehra is particularly appropriate to this point in time, so I wanted to share it.

I mean to discuss a different evil, but then there is you and I.  I do not want to be evil, nor do I want to see triumph where compromise is more appropriate.

There is evil in me.  Demeaning the person you respect more than anyone else, this would be something that only a sick person would do, and yet I have done it without thinking.  I hope I did it without realizing it, at least I hope I started that way.

I'd like to be done lying, that doesn't mean I'm done with love.

I am not going to deny love.  When do I find out I am done with love, when does anyone know?  Even on our deathbeds we look for a reprieve and if this exercise doesn't kill me, I am not close; nor am I close to giving up.

Night 321 of the apocalypse; space and the vacuum

I'm going to talk a little about love, but the science question of the night is Why isn't space a vacuum?  That is the right question.

This is the wrong question:https://www.livescience.com/why-is-space-a-vacuum.html

Here is the discussion:

If there is no vacuum, then where is my life being sucked?  Into what?

Mood music: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rCZblN6pBqA

Cheating makes you miserable, figuring out who you are cheating on is more complicated.

Every minute, I want to tell you what?  Something.  That doesn't help things.

Love is exquisite, addictive pain.  It hurts so terribly bad, but it is more desirable than gold, more important to have it than water in the desert because it is more fundamental than life and thirst.

Love is also pleasure, ecstasy by definition if you have a real love.  

To deny your self the one in the name of the other is hypocrisy.  How many sins do I carry and what price is paid by me and those around me?

I have known that before, but only once when I knew it was unadulterated, not cut with passion, not cut but overwhelmed, but something that lasted afterwards and without passion, for decade after decade, never fading, neither separation or change.

Would it help if you knew that I love you more than anyone else?  More than I love myself, for I do not love myself.  Even having accomplished so much more than I could ever have imagined or hoped for, I find only a deeper darkness in my unique knowledge.

Would you believe it?  Without proof?  I think you would, I think you do.  There is a hatred attached to the wrong type of love, love of a tyrant, for example.  So too it is justified to hate the wrong way of loving.  So you can believe and hate.  I cannot get into your head, I can only speak for myself, but the crystal clarity of my feelings and your insightful and trusting nature make me believe things that should be true.  

With all my heart I love you and believe that you love me the same way, the pain and the ecstasy; I could not live if you made me believe I was wrong.  So I refuse to believe what anyone else would know instinctively.

How many times have I begged to share with you the minutia of the days and nights.  How many times have I walked in the dark, rain hiding my tears, turning toward the darkness lest my weakness be visible to everyone else.

You don't know how much I hate you for not being there at night.  If I was sleepless and you were there the world would be full of infinite options.  Instead it is only full of darkness and terrors that have to do with seeing a void, a vacuum where life should be.

I said I might include this.  It is, after all, a blog about physics.

I call this the 10 or 12 or 8 or however many line proof.

2f(n)^(2^n)  (f(n)=(1,2,3,5,8)  n=1,2,3,4,5

That looks like a nothing equation, but for n=1-3 it defines space and time.

n=4 it yields the e=mc^2 equation

N=5 and N=1 unify gravity with the strong force.

N=4 defines the neutron, 

N=5 defines the black hole.

When you overlay the two parts (2^n and f(n)) you get the periodic table of the elements.  That last one even surprised me, even though it should not have 

It explains why you already made your decision before I asked the question.  

How could you support me?