Balls For NASA

Like many geniuses I get more brilliant ideas than anyone can use. This is one of those, which came to me last night as I was making my way from the bed to the bathroom at 4 AM, half asleep. I noticed that, as always, there was an enormous amount of Anitra leavings everywhere. Anitra leavings consist of books, half-spent shampoo containers, boxes, both empty and half full, loose papers, pamphlets, pointy things, half pairs of shoes, containers of garden crud, her glasses, which could be anywhere at anytime (they have a smeared out wave function), all unlaundered clothes, and probably a composting worm or two, trying with all his might to compost all the other stuff.

I thought, "Gee, if there were no gravity forcing all of Anitra's stuff to the floor, she'd be able to leave things hanging up in the air, too, and fill the whole room to the ceiling with flotsam! As I tried to picture that, it occurred to me that except for the pointy things, which we DO NOT want floating, it wouldn't be so bad. You could push against the stuff to move around.

Then I remembered all the problems NASA has with weightlessness in space capsules and the space station. Consider this image of a typical astronaut sitting in the space shuttle in orbit around the earth. There's no reason for her to protect against collision up there. The odds of hitting something are miniscule, what with flying through what's mostly a vacuum, and if you did collide with something, a seatbelt wouldn't help -- you'd be creamed. So why is she wearing one?


Because floating loose about in the shuttle is a pain, that's why!

Notice, too, that there are no books or papers lying about that aren't nailed down. That's because if there were, they wouldn't lie about for long. They'd be floating around and getting in the way, taking up our professional astronauts' valuable time so they can't do the important astronauting we put them up there for.

So I had a brainstorm. Let's give the astronauts balls!

They would be clear plastic hollow balls. They would be lightweight. There would not be enough of them in the cabin to prevent the astronauts from moving around, but there would be just enough that the astronaut could push against them as an aid in controlling their own motion. The problem with trying to swim in air, as NASA has long known, is that air just slips away. It doesn't offer enough resistance. Molasses, on the other hand, supply no oxygen, but would go up the nose unwelcome anyway.

Plastic balls larger than anyone's nostrils would not go up noses! Also, balls do not poke people's eyes out, so that's why I'm recommending balls rather than scissors, steak-knives, or icepicks.

Finally, by using translucent balls, our astronauts will still be able to find each other and perform their NASA mandated socializing duties.

Think how happy our astronaut will be when she's surrounded by brand new balls!

Mmm, Time-Spaghetti

[The subsidized apartment building I live in is called The Union Hotel. It's run by DESC, Seattle's Downtown Emergency Service Center. All the residents have been homeless. I write a column for the monthly building newsletter. The column is called Out of My Mind. I'm posting them here, properly dated, because I can. -- wes]

Last month Anitra had a little Refrigerator Problem. I’ll use it to explain fractals!

At first glance the event called “Refrigerator Problem,” or “RP” for short, forms a simple straight line. One day Anitra realizes her frig is not working. She informs the desk; she’s told to keep the door closed and “help is on the way.” Then, eight days later, she has a new refrigerator. Ha! What could be simpler?

But reduce the resolution of the event to half a week, and it looks like this: Sunday, broken frig. Thursday, no maintenance has checked it yet! Shelby says a temporary replacement will come that afternoon! It doesn’t come! Four days later there’s a new one. No loaner ever came!

Note how the event turns at the smaller scale. Were we to plot the RP at this scale in time-space it would look like an eight-day wide W.

But now look at it with a resolution of one day: Sunday, broke frig. Monday, Anitra allowed use of community room frig. Tuesday, Shelby first promises a loaner. Regarding the absence of maintenance, Shelby says, “I’ll put a tickle on the bug.” All day Wednesday, a bug screams hysterically on the Lower Level. Thursday, no frig, no loaner, no maintenance. The desk person has to unlock the common frig whenever Anitra wants cream in her coffee. Friday, she’s told maintenance will come at 11am. They come that afternoon, admit defeat. Saturday, no loaner. Second Sunday, no loaner. Monday, a new energy-inefficient “Magic Chef” arrives.

At this scale, the plot of the RP would look like spaghetti!

At smaller time-scales, the event twists and tangles more. Just look at it hourly on Friday: 10am: “Maintenance will come at 11am, be ready.” Noon: “Get ready, they’ll come by 2.” 2:30pm: I haul the rest of the food to the common frig. 4:30pm: Maintenance says it really IS broke.

That’s what a fractal in time looks like.