my religion

Los Angeles Memorial  library was branch, across the street from L.A. High school. One day I combed the bottom fiction shelf with no particular book in mind choosing a book called "The Monday Man". As I read, it was as if I could 'feel' the book, the wife Sylvia animated more than just a character. I hitch hiked a ride on Wilshire Blvd only to be picked up by the author. I asked him what did he do, to his answer, what did he write; "The Monday Man" was his answer. My mother Rose died in my arms on Saint Patrick's Day, 2005. We had never been close. Mother had traveled the world and enjoyed TV so I had it on tuned to the news which was covering the war in Iraq. She drifted off resuming her conversation with the people only she could perceive as was her time-she was 88. As I listened she said, "Isn't there anything you can do for the boy." A day later, after she died, I found myself in an Laguna Beach anti-war rally. A hospice worker had been assigned my mother and she took on cleaning the kitchen which was not in her pay. The last woman had been cutting corners.In her bedroom, I checked in on my mother who said, "I see a dirty rag just as the woman in the kitchen had holding a dirty rag. Mother also said she was going to be made over as in a TV makeover on the other side. My first crush was my orthodox Jewish neighbor David. I had always wanted to kiss him but by my age of 15, Hollywood influences were to strong and he was, it turned out,  an arranged marriage to Holly. But I dreamt one night a dream that was definitely beyond dreaming. I saw us together kissing and I knew he was there with me in the dream. A few years later, I did kiss finally kiss him and he said, "just like the dream". I had a plane a few years ago that had to circle back to Denver so I ended up stranded for a ni8ght at the Red Robin in Burlingame. I went over to the Double Tree for breakfast thinking it would be nicer. Behind me was a hard copy book of the "Morning of the Magicians" as the restaurant had a built in library. I went home only to open a letter from my friend Wendell who is an avid reader reviewing "The morning of the Magicians". I sometimes have insomnia and I passed into a seemingly deeper level of consciousness after not having slept for a week. I awoke 'over there' in a place sharper and clearer than waking life on cliff side rung between the  cable stations of an aerial tram in my body only as I knew it at 17. I fund myself at what I now recognize as the Palm Springs aerial tram where my sister had said I had rode as a girl of 8. I had not remembered. After leaving my sister I saw "Into The Wild" in Santa Barbara only to recognize the character at the same tram. We had a shady character living next door to us that I dreampt entered my apartment one night. The next day, the neighbor on his side said to his mother, "Smokey is walking through walls again". At 10, I breached spider webs suspended between a jade plant hedge in our yard out of boredom in the afternoon hypnotized by the escaping baby spiders. I now realize this was not great behavior. 20 years my son on our same family street said out of nowhere, "that is terrible what you did to those spiders; opening those webs". my son had two past life remembrances one as Iranian, one as Egyptian. The former at 6, he relating that he was terrified of water after having to bail out of a helicopter as a soldier over a river. At 12, with a high fever, he saw that he had been one of the pyramid builders. He felt that past life community had such a hold on him, their presence had permeated waking life. At 9, a friend of ours taught him simulated flight only to tell me in earnest, "he has flown before". I had a freak out when I was 13 listening to Alan Watts just because the philosophy was too mind expansive for me. At 45, I met a woman who said that she was pretty close to Alan Watts having been on his boat. Out of nowhere she suddenly says, "you were too young, you were not yet ready for that information".

artificial scarcity as waste, my political view

I lived in Orange County California where I would daily feast on a tomato vine on Harbor and Commonwealth streets. One day, the vine was gone replaced by the re bar and scaffolding of our commerce. It dawned on me; this infrastructure or certainly some other officiates the industrial or packaging end of you guessed it-the tomato-which are oddly never as vital when they finally arrive. The current political agenda is to render an improved energy efficient expenditure than the profane industrial affront it took to arrive here in our civilization that must now loot for its base now removed. Ours is the civilization that destroys a self regulating wetland water hole to fill in a swimming pool that must be artificially aerated. I actually thought President Obama, when he had his congress, would address some of the fallout of our wealth and conveniences. There is no alleged shortage of jobs in that surely we are all needed to man species counts, perform restoration forestry or salvage abandoned mining waste sites as the 150 years of damage still remains. The mandate suggests some Marshal reinvestment plan under sets in gears more bureaucracy. Perhaps in its place, we should federalize a socialism opt out; under the direction of the new socialism czar for those of us who apparently are no longer needed, regulated communes would be available. Well managed enterprises with socialism at its base probably mentor capitalism once more as some people generate natural capitalism, some do not. I hostel every where-Los Angeles, New York City. One hostel suggested people that dorm together are natural promoters of world peace. When Obama said "change", I thought he would be bedding at Hos telling International exclusively and dressing only in the laundered discarded rags of the homeless. These urban consumptive meccas should be re-engineered as bio-domes replete with reintroduced flora . Smaller market hubs would for me be more welcome as massive onslaught of asphalt buttressed chains all selling the same trash makes me not want to shop. Physics notes for today: The big math guy at UCLA who will not read unsolicited manuscripts should reverse course and only review unsolicited work for awhile. Exact, indeterminate or approximate complex coordinate redux does not pass muster as postulate.

a showroom of mathematical ideas

I was the same person that got held back in 2nd grade addition of whole numbers that was one day told by one of the two people manning the faculty office at Berkeley that I was one of perhaps 5 people in the world that understand physics. Not as fortunate as Temple Grandin, by then I was rendered so muted by ostrization, I was barely able to sputter "Where can I get lunch to the other faculty office person as he said it. It seems just as one person is deeply offended by my physics attempt, someone else offers hope or inspiration. But in my eyes I am only that small child so I reduced myself to the "I am quitting, I am definetely quitting" manefesto whilst running all the way to Boylston Street crying after Alan Adams (MIT) hammered into me that my earlier paper was trash throwing the paper a little across the room for emphasis. The great peace that only can come with the surrender of quitting would be mine if only the very next day some hotshot freshman running a physics study seminar in the dome had not said, "There is something in this paper. Something to the paper; I cannot pinpoint  what it is". Yet more pain would be mine when Frank Wilzeck's teacher would proclain, "if you think I'm going to read your paper, I am not" or a professor would slam the door in my face when he saw me standing there asking will you read it, after a short trip to the hall where the quantum hall effect was posted proclaiming, "See this, no one understands it". Meanwhile, in chalk, rendered on the boards Kavli, Columbia, I would correctly identify the sloppy cohomology where angular momentum equalled zero just as the instructor was walking away from me, worried about my presence because I wasn't a student. Meanwhile, off my crappy web page soon to come down, someone posted "Are you the 1st to think of this?" which of course I accidentally deleted. My Berkeley flash of fleeting luck then let down holds true every visit-That is me in the Firesign Theater "George Papoon for President Barb centerfold in the early '70's as the wife of the guy in the bag. Anyway, all this in an appeal to a society comprised of old men as gatekeepers with the audacity to uphold the belief that only a young man will inherit the next break through for they shall not, and to label all data incommensurate with the standard model as the 'new physics'. I watched as this winter in a gym filled with Harvard professors, one instructor actually grading papers on a step climber, as a guy fell off the treadmill across the room and not one of them offered a hand. But given the null hypothesis cannot substantiate a bi-variate anova from the set of all determinants and no one can know just where the cancer will strike from our latest 'tour de damage', I owe this planet my effort to keep trying until my hand comes up empty just in case the woman physicist from northeastern who came up to me outside Boynton Hall MIT was right when she said I am asking all the questions people are afraid to ask. To my "I am quitting", she could only answer, no you are not. I could assume my writing Lee Smollin, Ed Witten or Andre Lynde would yield no reply. But I as well came up null when I brought my paper to the Junior College instructor in Roseburg and with the physics instructors at Humboldt State where I graduated with a degree in Forest Resource Management. I assumed I was a piece of shit in those hard sciences until I came up at the top of the curve for a statistical graduate level exit assignment. I must have never have earned that. Given the box and its contents comprise the 50 percent Shrodinger limits comprising his dilemma. It is possible to conjoin 2 sets of determinants orthogonal, isotropic, to some other ionized, activated, occilation, absorber or emitter system.  for which we have redress of count in our enhanced, reduced or conserved operation. Discrete ordered set as directed by old men often leaves out the fill richness of information their reduced count maps.

physics class notes, continued

I have participated in the Gravity Research Foundation contest 3 times. For some reason, they accept amateur submissions yet only the authorized accredited submissions place or win until someone can verify otherwise. The papers were properly formatted; I played by the rules. Did my submission aid their grant structure? I would receive certification such as "we are in receipt of your manuscript". As there is no process of review or thesis analysis, the procedure lacks transparency and has proven to be of no value towards further enrichment. I worked hard to edit the papers  the proper word requirement and have no idea as to the identities of this secret cabal. Meanwhile at Green Apple Bookstore on Clement Street, I thumbed through the story of a man actually grateful to be included in a fixed grant cull, he could guarantee would gain him no progress. I assumed the contest was on my email by default, but when I requested they send no more materials, after my last failed submission, they obliged.
Lisa Randall provided inaccurate information on her appearance on the Charlie Rose show stating that there is no feedback mechanism in physics as in the biological sciences. Besides the obvious glitch of offering no clarification of which amino acid valence emulsion cleaves left of physics or right of biology, she forgot to address helicity correlated systematics both within the static and high spin group limit. A second order or third derivational angular displacement correction, probe, target, beam yields what one man at the BNL labeled the mnemonic limit which yields a logic flaw because procedural redundancy can yield identical consequences.

You are using partial explanations as derivatives.

12 years of study and I am just now realizing that all observable limits, and the extrapolated set their of, identifiable in the literature under a person's name-Jarlskog, Bohr, Cooper is only differentiated by yet another limit as someone's name. The Compton current initiated spin transfer can be anisotrophic to the Lamb shift emission and isometric to the Bjorken limit as probe or not. You could have labeled the observed constraint 3 gluons/2 currents or 2 currents/3 gluons yield to a statistically favored ratio luminosity under another set of names but no operation at 90-100 Gev will  salvage the entire set of terms that drop out past potential energy out=kinetic energy in bulk because you must talk to the off functionality to fully comprehend why one machine's loop rot at a given RPM is yet another's Cahn Gilman pertubative excess. Alan Turing's on/off switch problem is still your limit regardless of the fact that you have graduated from vacuum tubes to fiber optics.  Artists are the only pioneers of late that I have seen bring to light the seemingly Godless machinery of mechanics when the 5 stood there waiting and knowing statistically one vessel of hydrogen peroxide or what ever compound it was would boil over as seen on TV as you use partial explanation as derivatives. A water service inspector said to me just the other day, thank God the nuclear catastrophe happened over there and not over here. I sat in on all the nuclear industry promotional seminars at MIT but I quietly walked out when a lecturer concluded not one person sustained damage from Three Mile Island. I had a beautiful friend dead from ovarian cancer at 31 who haled from a neighboring town named Kathy Vuncelic. She had come to Humboldt State to study wildlife management after seeing "God Bless the Beasts and the Children" with Billy Mummy. She was so brilliant. I once brought a difficult capilary osmosis problem no student in soils class could solve and she did. Alibaster skin, blue gray eyes, natural jet black hair she stood 6 feet tall. I attract to the potential and certified dropouts in physics. You can find them at universities through ads posting "Had to drop the class and must sell the textbook" I called the woman to ask her why she had dropped out of physics because I had correctly deduced she had. Was it the people or was the topic too difficult. She replied 'both' and said the ad had been up a few years already, but never having received a call like mine, she did not know. I attracted myself to the 'need to get my grade up past a D' woman's workboard setup at Dave Pritchard's mechanics review room 8-329. A shiny young girl walked right up to me as I entered the room pleading could I please find the center of gravity. A grad student would occasionally visit the 'poor gir'l board anointing their struggle with the words "yes girls, you seem to be on the right track" as one girl would jest to the other "just write down dy/du  du/dx or something. A quick integral here there as ghetto jot jingo math minimalism  bound the workstations about the room. One of the 1st formalisms I was ever handed back there in Science Hall, city college of San Francisco was Ke=1/2 the mass times the velocity squared. The men who ruled the relationships as germaine to any explanation would provide only the minimum of linguistic clarification. Think of the kaon as brought to you by Finnigan's Wake. Last lecture I attended I had to ask-it had been demoted to K. Women I have known and assorted right brained artists are embellishers, linguistic magicians. They chose this girl out of high school because she was smart and now she would soon simply pass mechanics and join the ranks of the disinterested. All those disheartened students and the absurd hearding rituals-tools of scholastic cull poison the wealth of information as some erodite labels conflicted sets as trivial and everyone simply buys this appraisal as perhaps useful as accurate. Ok for today. Subjects I may address in future blogs-my history at Humboldt State in Forestry, as an erotic clay artist in a small box in a cristian town where people from the DMV and so on would drop lotion and corsets in.

formulas devoid of all they stand for

The nuclear breach in Japan is a worldwide emergency and today there is media disregard concerning coverage. We need a right brained posse to meet in the coffee houses not symposia like the old North Beach San Francisco days. The man from LUNA: I attended symposia at Columbia where there was a physicist jabbing cardinal order as a necessary requisite to grand unified code along with me! I overheard concerning gated batch, "What do you mean you ran it at 2, why not 3? Explain the difference between 2 and 3?" I never shared or solicited the good looking young man with my papers as I usually do believing it would spoil the rare jewel. I did not offer my experiences concerning the weird 'barred from refreshments' theme running through my college drop ins when he said, "When have you ever been barred from a lecture?" Before he went on to rip into the authenticity of the parity violation study of the woman sitting next to me he asked why I chose to live in the middle of nowhere in the wilderness? I am out here because analytical thought comes easier to me here at the forks of the Smith River with less distractions. I woke up this morning a wondered why a change in radio wave density is out of phase with the microwaves of my oven? If I am pitching for more structural grid representation as a conduit for well contrived shortcuts, I need a comprehensive map of 4 fermion coulomb map into the seemingly banal mechanistic interface of sliding oil film load deformation. Jest of the day to provoke "Age of Reason" obedience"A yet to be uncovered, what if there is heroic response through redirected purpose in our machines? The Nobel Prize winner and the day of the doctorate: The Condensed Matter board at MIT said "Doctorate, open to the public" concerning a student so I went. Only him, his wife and a few friends went as three of the world's top physicists tore into every assumption the poor guy had followed up until then with cuts insidious by their simplicity such as, "Gee why does the graph seem to fall off there, everyone experiences that?" I came up to talk to the new doctor afterwords where he stood in the corner still shaking and told him I had dreamt that a hamiltonian was stuck in the shower. I literally saw this box with the word hamiltonian on it in the stall. He responded by telling me the parable about a Yang Mills/Hamiltonian stuck in a town. I was in shock and awe to see the Nobel Prize winner there and thought my research paper attempt still too in the raw to share. I asked for his autograph and he literally etched a witches invocation for success into my journal adding color pens for special effects! I always keep a road journal and have had incredible French impressionist and Japanese tattoo artists literallly drop their work into my sheets. If ego is the dope of the damaged id, I scored big time when I first started attending lectures in physics with comments from one of the inventors of LIGO "You really understand it" to a dare from a student of Kip Thorne to prove him wrong. "Physicists like to be proven wrong" he added. I had had so much adrenaline pumping through me that day in lecture all I remember is counter stellar red shifts here, a jab stating 'there is no now over there' as I deconstructed lecture with prepared notes. A chemist approached me saying she wished she was me as I thought "who would ever want to be me?" Two physics instructors outside the door inquired as to how many years I had been studying physics. I freaked out so,  had to make up an answer. As I have tried through the years to push through in print, after  watching a near fist fight break out between two physicists over nobel gasses I could no longer condone throwing my weight about in someone else's lecture. All my begging for a review of written merit has just lead to garfarelok as people keep propping up their indifference with the parting words, "good luck". I've even probed the merit of my efforts this way. What if the theory that supports it is proven wrong. Even that course is a useful exercise in physics if the theory is new. As I was appraising my access to these lectures is a privilege not a right at PSFC IAP this winter someone had to come unlock the door. Another visitor tried to use the opportunity inappropriately meanwhile, recording the event without authorization. The lecturer had quized the audience and I got one answer right concerning a timely cartoon caricature depiction-nothing to do with any science. Curious, I walked into the budding confrontation post lecture. The administrator, who ever he was standing with the lecturer turned to improve utilizing my quirky presence to mediate with the guy!  My new papers are available by request anyway. I hostel and take greyhound and love soup kitchens. Something interesting I saw on skid row on Saint Patrick's Day-two pieces of shit in a cute box. I always confuse David Raines Wallace with David Foster Wallace. What would the combo read like?

my story as a freelance theoretical physics writer

Displacement is to a standing wave as noise is to drift for standing wave to noise there is no relation for which drift to displacement  is exempt.
I am the daughter of a north American chess champion who as well was a blacklisted writer for comedy in the 1950"s. According to the rabbi for the performing arts who spoke at his funeral, He did manage to forward a screenplay concerning "Who bumps off who" in Washington to Helen Douglass the famous pink lady defeated by Nixon. As legend goes, she changed the order of presidential succession according to the play that my mother destroyed along with his other plays after his death. I was born on his birthday. In the two genres I have dedicated my mature life to, it appears this curse was indeed passed on.All writers have been advised to "write what you know". I steered a course through the study of theoretical physics because if class curve is any indication, I could not.
I hale from what once was a small concentration camp survivor's neighborhood Carthay Circle which begins Beverly Hills. There was no child it seems that did not escape some kind of unexplained damage. Three children had ceribral palsy, another epilepsy. Others fell to the influences of the 1960's. My mother jested that it was strotium 90 fall out from the Nevada test sites. At 10 I had developed a full addiction to lead paint and the mercury found in thermoniters. At 13, I had already fully rebelled as my parents tried desperately to salvage my life transferring me to yet another junior high that would have me with the help of Riese Davis Clinic where I was an outpatient. Post thumbing America throughout my teenage years and phoning into my favorite TV host Elliot Mintz, I set my sights on the adult entertainment industry where I had graced the Coronet, the Follies, the Ivar, the lesser known venue next door to the Condor, hubs in Denver, Seattle, Toledo. What we had labeled the dungeon-the changing and staging area of the Follies read "When God gives the world an enema, this place goes first". Ironically, the Victoria theater that housed our venue as one of San Francisco's oldest, survived the earlier quake. Legend has it John Wilkes Booth's brother performed there. Regard this rant and preparation as an excuse for I am going to violate a long held oath. Any success I would gain would not read as a 'who's who' of who and what with who of Hollywood. I have visited 2 alternative bookstores who have recommended self publication as as an option. But when I inquired as to whether they would carry it, both could offer no options because I am not famous. So if it helps to know which music industry barons I waltzed with I will say it. Since I have begun the process of outing on Facebook, I want to say something at least kind concerning the woman at INT 10-3 October 25-29. People had presented their endeavors in brief in a round table fashion so I as well did joyfully heralding "Uber engineered lattice gauge facsimile" and she remembered me and respected it. Where as at Kavli, I had gone to the visitor's room first to make sure I would follow all protocol and rules. The representative had indicated the lectures as open but, "just do not say anything". At that round table I did get my feet wet sputtering some transport pump in D bounce orbital reason. For a week I sat quietly with manners. But then 2 administrators banned me not from lecture for which t5hey said I was welcome to attend but from refreshments. I left crying anyway and have never attempted return later reasoning I should have said I was a visitor. Later that year at MIT, I extolled the honesty of my amateur status to the instructor who quized me anyway concerning an electron factoid for which I nailed it. I am in Starbucks and I gotta pee so I'll end with this. There was a regular at the Coronet in 1973-1975 so odd he really stood out. Out of the corner of my mind I remember him madly writing on a yellow legal pad? Did they even have those then?. He never 'looked' if you know what i mean. It is as if he just needed reassurance I would do it. He sat always right front row. I remember being envious of his passion for what he was writing as it seemed to exceed his interest in me at the foot of the runway. In later life, befallen to physics, waltzing into "The Character of Physical Law", I quickly recognized the man as Richard Feynmen.