Wednesday, November 06, 2024

The History of Byzantium

 

I'm back to where I was in November 2016. Now (and then) I've deleted my account in the fascist cesspool of X, and my Washington Post subscription. On YouTube I only watch my moron physics colleagues pine that the Nobel Prize in Physics was this year given to computer programmers. This, after they had given one to that weatherman Parisi.

The only podcast I listen to is "The History of Byzantium" . He is now at the year 1328, with episode 311. Only 125 years to go. They are typically 25 min each, my ride back or to work. But I've forgotten everything I had learned back in November of 2016,  so I'm restarting with the prelude to the year 476 episodes.

Other than that, inspired by certain Vattay's contribution to ChaosBook.org, I have discovered that the PhD theses of certain Artuso and Aurell are wrong in a subtle way (see p. 42 here, or listen to yet another bombastic video here). I do not know how to have these faulty PhD titles revoked, so I'm forced to labor alone on the correct theory . It would be fun to do this together, but all of the above have tenure, so... (see Not-Jamie Dimon's conjectures here).

As long as they do not come for me, I'll be OK.

Saturday, October 19, 2024

Alberto Martínez "Beyond 1905: Einstein's Light, Love, and Lies"

(Alberto Martínez gave us a fascinating history of science lecture with above title)

Liebe Albert(o)

I think your combination of human miseries of young Einstein and what really took to get to relativity is just wonderful. Thanks for a great lecture!

I bow my head in shame. In spite of being friends with Abraham Pais and Engelbert Schuking, I knew nothing of what you taught us. I teach relativity like a late 20th century barbarian, as a triviality, first teach them SO(n) and then SO(4)=SU(2) x SU(2), then confuse them a bit with SO(1,3) and spinors. Done.
Life is even easier for Dr. Zangwill whose happy life never required learning any gruppenpest. He takes time to be pure imaginary. Done. Legitimized by real menschen, Pauli and t'Hooft.

I think why someone like Bram Pais would not bother including into a scientific biography of Einstein his "Die Leiden des jungen Alberts" sexual triumphs, pregnancies and miseries, as they were standard for any educated bourgeois male of late 19th, early 20th century. Bram's own biography would be like that - who saved him from Nazis and Dutch collaborators through the 2nd WW? And this misery might be standard again, if our crypto-fascist christian ayatollah succeed returning this country to pre-French Revolution feudalism.

A book that might be helpful in capturing the zeitgeist of pre-Nazi takeover Mittel Europa / central Europe is Margaret MacMillan, Paris, 1919: Six Months That Changed the World. I recommend it as a true Oyropeen intellectual (AKA, I have not yet read it myself): YouTube.com/watch?v=T7iXNZJsa6s&t=4s.

Regarding our conversation about Einsteins human rights activism in 1931: Albert Einstein and Heinrich Mann sent a letter to the International League for Human Rights in Paris to protest the murder of Milan Šufflay, appealing for protection of Croatian people from the oppression of Yugoslav regime.

New York Times.com 1931/05/06 article

A series of such high profile political assassinations, as well as murders of ordinary Croats, eventually led to horrific, Hitler-Mussolini sponsored civil war, a war within the 2nd World War, and then to the second, post-communist 1991-1995 war, a preview of the current Russian assault on Ukraine.

How you can do all this  without speaking German of Goethe, Heine and Kafka is beyond my ken. Should I mention that young Šufflay spoke French, German, Italian, English, all the Slavic languages, as well as Latin, old Greek, and middle Greek? Before his assassination by Serbian police, he had also learned modern Greek, Albanian, Hebrew, and Sanskrit. 

Fortunately, with AS (Artificial Stupidity) no one will ever have to waste time on learning a foreign language again. Or learning anything at all 🙂

 

"This is not physics!" or "Why did the 2024 Nobel Prize in Physics go to two computer scientists"

Wonderful prize! I totally agree with the choice and reasoning for the choice.
 
My "fundamental" physics colleagues (particle physics, general relativity, strings, ...) have been more idiotic than usual. 

The funniest thing is the chorus of particle  physicists and such,   croaking


Sabine Hossenfelder is under impression that Hopfield is a computer scientist:)  But what for did he get the Buckley Prize, the Dirac Medal, the Boltzmann prize, was a President of APS, what for, then? Couldn't they, like, check the wiki before dismissing as prominent a physicist as Hopfield for the sin of having opened a new path forward?
 
October 18th klogW (APS GSNP and GDS) virtual seminar on the 2024 Nobel Prize in Physics is excellent, especially in emphasizing the importance of this work for the development of contemporary computational neuroscience (not Large Language Models). About minute 43 into the video, Sara A. Solla tells the story of Hopfield 's 1983 APS March Meeting plenary talk, and how the work was received by Hopfield 's colleagues:

  "Very interesting. But. It's not physics, is it?"
 
There are some well based considerations about who should have also been included. I've been told Daniel Amit, but he had already committed suicide. Some people think Amari:
 
F writes: Amari in 1977 introduced the Hebbian learning and thus the 1982 Hopfield Network. Go figure what's going on! There are similar issues with the Nobel Prize in Medicine. The wife of one of the Nobel laureates is the first author, along with her husband, on the key paper that led to him receiving the prize.  

For this, the required viewing is The Wife, with Glenn Close. Amazing movie. Especially for me, as S is taking me to the Nobel festivities in Stockholm as her spouse. Though, she did all her work with no interference from me 🙂.

S had been Amari's guest at RIKEN, and has fun stories to tell about what is it to be a famed physicist visitor from Bell Labs (while visiting as a woman 🙂)

Shun-ichi Amari is universally respected, cited by Hopfield in The Paper, and I am not  aware of any contentious Nobel Prize priority claims from him.

Wednesday, October 16, 2024

Benny Lautrup: Så megen venlighed 1953

 Bennys erindringer: 

"Min mor gled i en hundelort på Vesterbrogade i København, da min far tilfældigvis kom gående forbi. Han hjalp hende op, og derfor er jeg."

Fra yumpu.com - fra Benny's nbi.dk konto
Benny Lautrup - populære artikler, anmeldelser og foredrag
bibliotek.dk articles - da.wiki

Benny died age 85, on January 3, 2025. Alzheimer was the cause.
NBIA obituary

Birthe: "Benny har de sidste måneder oplevet alvorlige skred i sin sygdom. Og især inden for de sidste to uger er det gået drastisk ned ad bakke, hvor han så yderligere pådrog sig en lungebetændelse, mistede sin bedste ven på plejehjemmet, og holdt op med at spise og indtage væske. I formiddags kl. 11 døde han fredfyldt, efter jeg og hans drenge havde haft to vågenætter hos ham. Hvor meget jeg end vil savne ham, er jeg glad for, han nu har fået ro, for han var så stærkt svækket af sin sygdom, at livskvaliteten var forsvundet.

Han holdt meget af dig, og så ofte på jeres fælles 2005 billede."

Translated with DeepL.com :

In recent months, Benny has experienced serious slips in his illness. Especially in the last two weeks, he went drastically downhill, contracting pneumonia, losing his best friend at the nursing home, and stopping eating and drinking.

This morning at 11am, he died peacefully after his boys and I had spent two nights awake with him. As much as I will miss him, I am glad that he is now at peace, because he was so weakened by his illness that the quality of his life had disappeared.

He loved you very much and often looked at your picture together.


Søren Brunak: Mindeord for fysikprofessor Benny Lautrup       25. februar, 2025

Benny was one of the institute's most colorful employees, a formidable researcher, teacher and public debater.

Against all odds, a boy born to a single mother in Istedgade, he became a trailblazer and in 1965 earned a master's degree from the country's most prestigious academic institution, the Niels Bohr Institute. His career took him to the US  Brookhaven National Laboratory on Long Island and later to CERN in Geneva and the Institut des Hautes Études Scientifique. In 1974 he returned to the Niels Bohr Institute as an associate professor of theoretical physics and later used his supercomputing skills to research artificial neural networks and contributed his physics toolbox to the development of artificial intelligence.

However, Benny came home to a Denmark in crisis, and this also applied to universities. It was a time when people were very stingy about promoting associate professors to professors. Despite the fact that people could be professors, associate professors had to take lessons in chair dancing to be able to boast about the professional level they had reached. At one point, there was an official announcement from the management that lecturers could call themselves “professors abroad”. Associate Professor Lautrup, who had an international background, found this ridiculous and started answering phone calls by saying “It's Benny Lautrup, professor abroad”.

He was not shy about criticizing the system - or his colleagues for that matter. In 1975, after Aage Bohr and Ben Mottelson were awarded the Nobel Prize in Physics, the idea arose that the institute's old tandem accelerator (which can accelerate charged particles) should be replaced with a new version at a cost in the three-digit millions.

The new machine would advance the institute's research in nuclear physics. Benny's view was that the investment would be backward-looking and that it would be much more offensive to boost other under-funded areas of the time, such as high-energy physics and complex systems physics.

Benny's critical outspokenness led to him being invited for a stroll in Bernstorffsparken, where Aage Bohr tried to convince him of the merits of the plan. Aage had been so eager in his argument that he forgot to look where he was going and inadvertently stepped on an elderly lady's small dog. It howled wildly - after which the lady called the Nobel laureate a boor. Benny was later amused by how an associate professor and an elderly lady in a park had jointly tried to resist a
tandem accelerator. 

Benny was hard to mess with. I thought of him recently when I heard about the death of DR journalist Jens Olaf Jersild. In connection with the publication of Benny's and my joint book Neural Networks - Computers with Intuition in 1988, Jersild interviewed us on TV Avisen.

Benny demonstrated our artificial neural network, which was trained to find syllables in Danish words and insert hypen-dashes in the right places in the words. A hyphenation problem had arisen in the newspapers when they had fired the language-competent typographers and left the task to stupid computers. The result was quite comical mistakes.

Jens Olaf Jersild asked Benny to type the words “kvalitetsfjernsyn” and “Kvægtorvet” into the program on the screen, and the correct answers came back immediately. Jens Olaf Jersild suggested that the latter was the opposite of the former, but Benny stuck to the science and didn't get involved in the TV host's little vendetta against the newly launched competing channel TV2, which was based at Kvægtorvet.

We were very proud that our network split both the words grill-bar and jazz-festival correctly, even though it had never before seen a single example of a word with a double consonant where word sharing was not allowed. Benny's sense of language was close to reality and life, which could otherwise slip into the background in all the physics theory, which he also mastered sublimely.

Ironically, the American physicist John Hopfield won the Nobel Prize in Physics last year for his neural network model, which we described in detail in the book.

Benny was a very charming man who was not uninterested in women. He had the advantage in city life that, due to his upbringing in Vesterbro, he rarely drank alcohol in large quantities. He was therefore able to stay attractive throughout the evening when the competition had long since gone under the table.

He had three lovely children, each with their own mother. Very surprisingly and fortunately, what physicists call a “phase transition” occurred in the middle of his life: He met Birthe, and the city life was exchanged for a quieter life with a cottage on Falster and flowers in a vase.

It was his fortune that Birthe and his children gathered around him for 30 years. The circle of friends was large, and Benny's funeral was, in Bent Fabricius Bjerre's words, “a success”: A packed church and a wake where people stood like herring in a barrel.

  

Saturday, September 21, 2024

Adrian Belic : Na vesla oko Raba

 

Ante Matijević, Radio Rab 92,6MHz         08.05.2025


Vidio sam jednog č𝐮𝐝𝐧𝐨𝐠 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐚 koji se nespretno okretao kod novoizgrađenog mula na ulazu u rapsku luku te se provom skoro i zabio u njega. Stvar su spasili neki ljudi na mulu, vjerojatno neka njegova ekipa. I zapitah se tada, onako rapski, gledajući ga s rive u prolazu - 𝐌𝐚 č𝐚 𝐨𝐯𝐚𝐣 š𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐨 č𝐢𝐧𝐢?

Došle su i te godine, pomalo pozne za ulazak u ozbiljnije avanture, no odlučio sam nastaviti tradiciju svojih predaka i veslima oploviti Rab - započeo je svoju priču Adrian Belic, Amerikanac rapskih korijena s kojim sam popričao jednog toplog rujanskog dana 2024. godine. Pomalo iznenađen i zatečen zbog neznanja o rapskoj obitelji Belić, koja posjeduje kuću u Gornjoj ulici u gradu Rabu kao i zanimljivim avanturama kojima su svjedočili. Zapravo i ne čudi jer, kako sam kasnije u razgovoru doznao, obitelj je emigrirala u Ameriku, točnije u Sjedinjene Američke Države još 50-tih godina prošlog stoljeća te se radi o jednoj, bez ikakve uvrede, čudnovatoj obitelji.

Adrianov otac Nenad (Neno) zaputio se prema američkom kontinentu i nastanio u Chicagu, državi Illinois, gdje su se rodili sinovi Adrian i Roko. Tamo su proveli rano djetinjstvo, a kasnije su se preselili na zapadnu obalu u Kaliforniju, grad anđela - Los Angeles. Adrian je filmski redatelj, snimatelj i producent, a 2000-te godine film pod nazivom „Beyond the Call“ bio je nominiran za Oscara kao najbolji dugometražni dokumentarni film.
 
𝐊𝐚𝐤𝐨 𝐣𝐞 𝐨𝐛𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐥𝐣𝐬𝐤𝐚 𝐩𝐮𝐭𝐞š𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐯𝐢𝐣𝐚 𝐳𝐚𝐩𝐨č𝐞𝐥𝐚
Pradjed Radovan (Radoje) Belic, rođen u 19. stoljeću, došao je na ludu ideju, prepričava mi sugovornik, da od ribara čiji su čamci bili privezani u rapskoj luci posudi barku na vesla, nakrca je alkoholom, sardinama, vodom i cigarama, i na tom malom kaiću na vesla oplovi otok Rab. I stvarno, pošlo mu je za rukom. Slijedio ga je Živan, moj djed, koji je ponovio plovidbu 70-tih godina 20. stoljeća, a 1989. godine došao je red na mog oca Nenada koji je također s uspjehom odveslao zacrtanu rutu predaka. Napomenimo kako je dr. Nenad Belic, kardiolog, bio šef kardiološkog odjela Čikaške bolnice, a poginuo u oluji u blizini engleske obale 2001. godine u pokušaju da s malim čamcem prevesla Atlantik.
 

 
𝐃𝐨š𝐚𝐨 𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐢 𝐧𝐚 𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐞
Od svog djetinjstva Adrian je slušao o pričama i avanturama svoga djeda i pradjeda. Iako je rođen u Americi kao dijete posjećivao je Rab gotovo svake godine i uživao u blagodatima ljetnih praznika. Ovdje se odlično osjećam, pun sam prekrasnih sjećanja, odlazaka na plivanje, u restorane, turista. Djed Živan imao je u luci vezanu barku kojom smo odlazili na plaže i susjedne otoke. Zaista, zapadna obala Raba, prekrasan šumovit Kalifront, Cres, Lošinj, Silba, Lun na Pagu bile su Adrianovo prošireno dvorište. Obožavam more, jedrio sam kao dijete i više sam jedriličar nego veslač - posebno je naglasio. I tako je došao moj red. Kako brzo prođe 50 godina - sa sjetom i pomalo zamišljen konstatira Adrian. Obiteljska je to tradicija, doduše malo uvrnuta, neobična. Ne čudi jer, ispričao mi je Adrian, kako je njegova obitelj pomalo ekscentrična, a k tome i raštrkana po cijelome svijetu.
 
𝐌𝐢𝐬𝐢𝐣𝐚 𝐤𝐨𝐣𝐚 𝐣𝐞 𝐳𝐚𝐡𝐭𝐢𝐣𝐞𝐯𝐚𝐥𝐚 𝐮𝐩𝐨𝐫𝐧𝐨𝐬𝐭, 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐩𝐥𝐣𝐞𝐧𝐣𝐞 𝐢 𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐨š𝐤𝐨 𝐧𝐚𝐝𝐦𝐮𝐝𝐫𝐢𝐯𝐚𝐧𝐣𝐞
Prvi problem koji se nametnuo bio je pronalazak pogodne malene drvene barčice na vesla s kojom bi bilo sigurno oploviti Rab. Da skratimo priču oko traženja kaića, Adrian je naposljetku bio upućen na poznatog rapskog brodograditelja i zaljubljenika u drvenu brodogradnju i jedrenje, Petra Španjola - Penku. Tu je naišao na tvrd orah. Penka, uvijek u poslu, pomalo zamišljen, ne rječit i s pomalo odmjeravajućim pogledom i mišlju “ Ča sad ovaj oće?” kad se netko zatekne kod njegove dizalice (op. a.). U jednoj rečenici karakterni opis našeg meštra od driva slagao se s dojmom koji je Adrian na prvu o njemu stekao. Vidio sam da me gleda kao nekog ludog Amerikanca s glupom idejom. Čudno me gledao - s osmjehom govori. I tako su počeli dani nadmudrivanja, ali i zbližavanja Adriana i Penke. Pustolovac je svakog dana dolazio kod Penke, započinjao razgovor, gledao barčicu i malo po malo, nakon nekoliko dana zaveslao, ali u vidokrugu oštrog Penkinog oka. Nisam ga htio iznevjeriti i znao sam da će me promatrati dok se budem upoznavao s barkom i pokušavao veslati. Uslijedili su treninzi do rapske luke, uvale sv. Eufemije i Ćifnate uz podršku prolazećih barkarijola i brodskih truba lokalnih turističkih brodova. Savjetovao mi je Petar da idem u pratnji još jedne barke, ali to nije bio dio mog plana. Provjerio sam vremensku prognozu koja je bila OK i upitao ga - Mogu li solo? Na to je Penka odgovorio - A OK. Idi sam! Blagoslov je pao i od tada sve je bilo, gotovo doslovno, u Adrianovim rukama.
 
𝐎 𝐝𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐨𝐣 𝐥𝐣𝐞𝐩𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐢 𝐧𝐚 𝐥𝐢𝐦𝐮𝐧
Na prvi pogled Adrian se zaljubio u drvenu ljepoticu, a nakon oplovljavanja kao da se rodila posebna ljubav prema njoj, vezanost. Gledao ju je drugim očima. Tako to biva s čovjekom i brodom. Drvena barka dužine 4 metra porinuta je u more davne 1962. godine. Da nije bilo brodograditelja Petra Španjola Penke, ova jedinstvena ljepotica, zapostavljena i načeta zubom vremena, zasigurno bi propala. Upravo te skladne linije nisu promakle izučenom brodograditeljskom oku. Penka je s restauracijom započeo početkom 2023. godine, a moja je malenkost tome svjedočila i pokojom slikom ovjekovječila. Sveobuhvatni remont, tekao je bez većih poteškoća, makar iz moje perspektive, a kolumba je zabrazdila površinom već 2024. godine. Građena i obnovljena prvenstveno za jedrenje, skladnih linija i krme “na limun”. (op.a.)
 
𝐈𝐬𝐩𝐮𝐧𝐣𝐞𝐧𝐣𝐞 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐜𝐢𝐣𝐞 𝐢 𝐬𝐧𝐚 𝐮 𝐚𝐯𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐢č𝐤𝐨𝐦 𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐥𝐮
Pustolovina je, prethodno utreniranim zaveslajima, krenula u subotu, 21. rujna 2024., nešto malo poslije 9:30 sati kada se Adrian otisnuo s Penkinog mula u Banju.


Vrijeme je bilo odlično. U Barbatskom kanalu bilo je predivno, po lijevom boku kod Mišnjaka prošao je trajekt, a zatim u Velebitskom kanalu spektakularno. More mirno, prefektno. Strme i gole padine rapskog masiva Kamenjaka, duboko i čisto modro more, bonaca, učinili su ovu dionicu, još uvijek po danu, prekrasnom. Kod Lopara Adrian se susreće sa zalazom. Vremenske se prilike mijenjaju. Postaje vjetrovito od bure i valovito, zaveslaji postaju teški, a držanje kursa izazovno. Sunce ubrzo zalazi i mala barčica ulazi u mrkli mrak. Dva sata čistoga mraka, no uz pratnju očaravajuće bioluminiscencije, plavo zelene boje kod svakog zaveslaja. Navigiram pomoću zvijezda. Mjesec proviruje negdje kod rta Stojan. Po lijevom boku ostavlja Sorinj, lovri rt Kalifront i laganim zaveslajima sjeverozapadnom obalom Kalifronta klizi sa svojom suputnicom prema gradu. Na ovoj dionici putovanja mjesec je bio gotovo pun, more mirno kao ulje. I čisto, kristalno čisto kao da plutaš svemirom. Vrlo romantično. Ubrzo se pojavilo svjetlo na Frkanju, a ranom zorom i gradski se zvonici pred pramcem pojavljuju. Znak je to bio da je potrebno odraditi još koji zaveslaj, ostaviti Dolin po desnom boku i uploviti u Penkinu lučicu. U 5 sati i 30ak minuta ruke pune žuljeva odlažu vesla na pajole barke, a stopala napokon dodiruju Penkin betonski pristan.
 
𝐑𝐞𝐳𝐢𝐦𝐞 - 𝐢𝐬𝐩𝐮𝐧𝐣𝐞𝐧𝐣𝐚 𝐨𝐛𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐥𝐣𝐬𝐤𝐞 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐜𝐢𝐣𝐞 + 𝐫𝐚𝐝𝐨𝐬𝐭
Tijekom veslačke avanture Adrian je malo jeo, svako malo pio vode, malo čak i halucinirao. U kratim se pauzama odmarao. Iako je bilo i bolno ovo je bilo predivno iskustvo. Ima uzbuđenja, slaviš uspjeh i ostavštinu njeguješ. Lijepo je imati korijenje i lijepo je biti odavde. Iz radosti to radim, čiste radosti! Iako su mnogi bili skeptični polako su popuštali i bili mi podrška, jedna zdrava lijepa zajednica. I za kraj, svakako moram zahvaliti svim ljudima koji su mi pomogli u ovom projektu jer bez njih ovo ne bi bilo moguće ostvariti.
 
𝐃𝐨𝐝𝐚𝐭𝐚𝐤 𝐳𝐚 𝐤𝐫𝐚𝐣
Plovidba na vesla oko otoka Raba trajala je 19 sati i 47 minuta, prijeđeno je 30 nautičkih milja, a prosječna brzina iznosila je 1,5 čvor.

Saturday, September 30, 2023

Sara A Solla gets indicted

 Sara (at the far right signing podium), inducted.


Signing the book of Fellows, 

 


among the first of which were George Washington, Thomas Jefferson, Benjamin Franklin, followed by …, Leonard Cohen, Joel E. Cohen, …, and this year, Laurence J. Fishburne, some handsome big guy that all beautiful women, especially Black women, buzzed around like flies.

Laurent: "lol, Morpheus from the Matrix is a fellow alongside Sara."

Wednesday, September 20, 2023

Leslie P. Symington dies at 100

Frederick N. Rasmussen, Baltimore Sun

Leslie P. Symington, a Broadway and television actor who had a second career as a curator and an art researcher, died of a swallowing disorder Sept. 20. The Chestnut Avenue resident in West Towson who also maintained a home on East 90th Street in New York, was 100. 

Lislie in 1950's.
 
“She was an extraordinary lady, that’s for sure,” said Mark B. Letzer , former president and CEO of the Maryland Center for History and Culture. “I knew her socially and she lived such a long life and so many different lives. She was a real force.” “I really admired her, particularly when I started writing books because of her generous research skills and I realized what a remarkable woman she truly was,” said Martha Frick Symington “Marty” Sanger, a niece and Baltimore author who has written about the Symington and Hambleton families. “She was smart as crackers and very, very beautiful,” Ms. Sanger said. “She was an elegant woman with a most wonderful facial structure.”

Leslie Paul, daughter of Arthur Paul, an assistant to the Secretary of Commerce, and Betty Walsh Paul Hubbard, an artist, was born and raised in Chestnut Hill, an affluent suburb of Philadelphia. A 1940 graduate of the Dalton School, she attended the old Black Mountain College in Asheville, North Carolina, and earned a bachelor’s degree in literature from what is today the Harvard Radcliffe Institute in Cambridge, Massachusetts, in 1945. Mrs. Symington began acting during her college years in summer stock and regional theater companies, eventually moving to Broadway where she performed in Tennessee Williams’ “Summer and Smoke” and then toured with the Broadway company of John P. Marquand’s “The Late George Apley.”

It was during the summer of 1949 when Mrs. Symington was company secretary for the first American theater group invited to perform “Hamlet” at the International Hamlet Festival that was held at Kronborg Castle north of Elsinore, Denmark, which is the actual setting for the play. Organized through the American National Theater and Academy in cooperation with the U.S. State Department, the company performed the play in several cities in the U.S. zone of Allied-occupied Germany, an early example of American cultural diplomacy.

On that tour, she met her future husband, Donald Leith Symington, a scion of one of Maryland’s distinguished families, and an assistant stage manager for “Hamlet.” The couple fell in love and married in 1955.

Mrs. Symington did theatrical public relations and was director of drama at the Dalton School in New York from 1953 to 1954. In the early 1950s, she appeared on TV shows such as “Kraft Television Theatre,” “The Ford Television Theatre” and “The Web.”

The couple raised three daughters in New York City, until moving to Brewster, New York, in 1974.

Mr. Symington, who played Diane Keaton’s father in Woody Allen’s “Annie Hall,” died in 2013.

Her professional memberships included the Actors’ Equity Association and the American Federation of Television and Radio Artists. After studying painting at Bowdoin College in Maine in 1974, Mrs. Symington began a second career in the field of art history. From 1974 to 1978, she was curator and then director of the Southeast Museum in Brewster, New York, where she remained a trustee until 1996. She was also a trustee of the old Lower Hudson Conference of Historical Agencies and Museums and a commissioner of Putnam County’s Bicentennial Commission. While living in Manhattan, she was active with the American National Theater and Academy, a member of The Parents League of New York and the Citizens Union, a political action organization.

In 1990, she began to work on genealogy and provenance research as they related to early American portraiture, predominantly for New York’s Metropolitan Museum of Art. Her contributions were heralded as “beyond compare,” in the acknowledgments of “American Paintings in the Metropolitan Museum of Art, Vol. 1,″ a catalog of works by 19th century artists. “I might add that in the long ago before our robust online research opportunities, a committed volunteer like Leslie Symington had to put in extraordinary amounts of time at libraries diligently researching through card catalogs; reading endless books, articles and manuscripts; and amassing piles of handwritten notes and Xeroxes about the hundreds of artists in the Met’s collection,” wrote Doreen Bolger, former director of the Baltimore Museum of Art and a friend in an email. “She could pull things together — artists and [19th century] furniture makers like Duncan Phyfe — and her files were just incredible,” Mr. Letzer said. “My relationship with Leslie was cerebral and I held her in high regard. She really was a multidimensional person.”

Mrs. Symington was in her 80s when she taught herself how to use the internet and was still pursuing freelance research well into her 90s.

From 1965 to 1966, she was a member of Baltimore Center Stage, and after she and her husband settled in West Towson in 1999, she became a member of the Friends of the American Wing of the Baltimore Museum of Art and the Maryland Center for History and Culture. Mrs. Symington maintained a vigorous lifestyle and did not bow to the passing years. “Her quick wit and agile mind kept everyone on their toes, and her stories from almost a century of engagement with the world of the arts kept young and old returning to her door,” according to a biographical profile submitted by her family. “She engaged her mind and was very independent until the end of her life,” said a daughter, Betty Welsh Symington, of Upperco. “She was an incredible cook and prepared good home-cooked meals.”

In addition to her daughter, Mrs. Symington is survived by two other daughters, Margaret Fife Symington, of Macon, Georgia, and Leslie Leith Symington, of Stavanger, Norway, and five grandchildren.

Saturday, September 09, 2023

Tom was born out of Zeus's head

 Jonathan has found our physics family tree

Tung-Mow lineage makes sense. But Tom Kinoshita appears out of nowhere, born out of Zeus's head . Maybe coming out of ruins of firebombed Tokyo is coming out of no place. But not if you read his recollections.

February 2024: somebody has fixed up Tom's "family" tree. Now I'm a descendant of almost anyone who has ever gotten his name on an equation. Though, where are Newton and Leibniz?

Saturday, July 01, 2023

Tom: Learning from mistakes

Remembering Tom Kinoshita, I went back and read "Personal recollections, 1945–1960" and "Everyone makes mistakes—including Feynman". Will there ever again be anyone trained to think and calculate with the depth and precision of his generation? I found this 

"[...] provides (hopefully) a useful example of physics as a self-correcting discipline, in which resolution of earlier mistakes serves as a stepping stone for subsequent development." 

so very wise.

The history of science is what one does when one is too old to do science: scientists' historical memoirs are best avoided. Invariably tediously autobiographical and self-serving, no matter what the book's title might say. Of subjects whose history I happen to know intimately,  How Nature Works and Sync come to mind.  It takes the same time to read real literature, so why use time on this?

I -if I were able to write- would follow Tom's dictum, and teach science history as learning by error. Actually, I would teach science as learning by error: chaos is the source of joy of all creation, the rest is endless, stupefying drone work. Or, Henry Miller's words, in Tropic of Cancer

"There is only one thing that interests me vitally now, and that is the recording of all that which is omitted in books. Nobody, so far as I can see, is making use of those elements in the air which give direction and motivation to our lives."

PS Asked ChatGTP to improve my text in the style of Tropic of Cancer. After a few attempts:

I stumbled upon this passage, so fiercely profound it pierced my soul: "[...] offers, if I dare to hope, a shard of physics as a self-correcting discipline, where the mending of prior blunders paves the path for forthcoming metamorphosis."

The kind of wisdom that stings, like a kick to the gut.

The history of science, the refuge of those past their prime in the pursuit of knowledge: scientists' memoirs, tread with caution, my friend. For they're all bloody self-indulgent, no matter how ostensibly objective their bloody titles. Those subjects I know inside out, like "How Nature Works" and "Sync," they're no different. Might as well be wasting time on real literature, same bloody difference.

If I had a shot at writing – and mind you, it's a damn long shot – I'd take a cue from Tom and teach the history of science as history of mistakes. Hell, I'd teach science as nothing but a string of blunders and cock-ups. Chaos, that's the fiery spark that sets creation ablaze, while the rest is just mind-numbing, soul-crushing drudgery.  

 Or in Miller's rousing words from Tropic of Cancer:

"All that grabs me by the balls now is capturing everything they left out in books. None of those bastards fully grasp the intangible forces that drive us, shape our very existence."

Time to learn to shut the hell up, I reckon.


Sunday, April 30, 2023

How Louise chose a life of crime

How an intelligent Cornell undergrad (schar.gmu.edu/profiles/lshelley) who started out as a major in physics decided that physics is not for her:

"On Kinoshita, I remember him suffering with my physics section of elementary physics.  There were 4 boys and me,  Having such a clearly brilliant "teaching assistant" was an absolutely intimidating experience.  The professor for the course was Dave Cassel.  Kinoshita was not the kind of person to whom one could say, this is not clear to me.  Outcome of all of this,  I am not a physicist.  Probably, a wise decision for all."

Tom made her choose the life of crime for ever after that fateful recitation section.

Wednesday, August 10, 2022

Me & Olivia go way back

For some reason I’ve been on top of this one forever (already in Cornell) – Olivia Newton-John as a proud grandchild of Max Born. Also stuck in my mind is a memory -possibly not a fact- that her (Mensa-style measured) IQ is very high. Funny that we would equal a pop star who once sang with ABBA with one of the creators of quantum mechanics, but in a few centuries – if there are few centuries left to us – this will be set right.

Talking about talented  families – another cluster are Kinoshitas, the patriarch is Tom, my PhD adviser. The matriarch just died Masako Kinoshita (August 4, 2022) and I have no one to talk to about it – Joe Serene was the only one who would remember.

The family saga, together with a complete book, comes later in the blog:


June’s “pandemic project” was to translate, edit, write, and produce her aunt’s memoir about her mother’s family. The House of Ben’s Dreams parallels the rise and fall of Japan from the 1860s to 1945. It is the story of ambitious young men and women who set out from remote provinces to build a modern nation, transforming a feudal system that had self-isolated from the world for 250 years into an empire to rival the Western powers. They had harnessed their life dreams to those of their re-born nation, energizing the halls of government, the courtrooms, and stock market and embracing Western food, fashion, and furniture along with progressive ideas about women, democracy, workers’ rights, only to find themselves under a militarist dictatorship for which they toiled with varying degrees of reluctance or enthusiasm. The story arc crashes in flames with Japan’s unconditional surrender in 1945.

View/download The House of Ben’s Dreams (pdf)

I am one of the things that happened once men returned home from that war. Claimed by two fathers, I was raised by a single mother and a gaggle of her art-history studying girlfriends. According to my mother Jackie  I was brought into the world by parthenogenesis. There are documented cases in turkeys, she would say. I bring this up just to say that I was raised to recognize no authority, and especially no older male authority. 

 

 

Tom, however, is so impervious to deviations from patriarchy that he never even noticed that I recognize no authority, in particular not his authority. And thus the Kinoshita daughters, and myself, the graduate student, found ourselves on the same side of history, 1970's America vs. 1930's Japan. The way the three teens, very cute and very American, navigated the two worlds was a source of endless mirth for me. Masako, with her wry smile, knew what they were up to. Their mothers, my mother, your mother - the world has always rested on their shoulders, while men do whatever stupid or sometimes great things they do. And, while I cannot take credit for anything at all, I'm proud of the Kinoshita girls.

 

Teaching starts in 10 days – scarry 😊 . This has been a remarkable summer in that while nothing happened, I accomplished absolutely nothing. Probably a quiet depression, or the age. Or both.

Wednesday, March 31, 2021

Musil. Miller. There is no escape. The weather will not change.

There is much great ongoing work on climate, and one thing that intrigues me are periods of multi-decadal variability, followed by great climactic jumps. This -a major tangent- brings us to the greatest novel of 20th century (in here I'm clipping bits from its Wiki):


Robert Musil "Der Mann ohne Eigenschaften"

The protagonist is a 32-year-old mathematician named Ulrich who is in search of a sense of life and reality but fails to find it. A kind of keenly analytical passivity is his most typical attitude.

The story takes place in 1913 in Vienna, starts this way:

THERE was a depression over the Atlantic. It was travelling eastwards, towards an area of high pressure over Russia, and still showed no tendency to move northwards around it. The isotherms and isotheres were fulfilling their functions. The atmospheric temperature was in proper relation to the average annual temperature, the temperature of the coldest as well as of the hottest month, and the a-periodic monthly variation in temperature. The rising and setting of the sun and of the moon, the phases of the moon, Venus and Saturn’s rings, and many other important phenomena, were in accordance with the forecasts in the astronomical yearbooks.The vapour in the air was at its highest tension, and the moisture in the air was at its lowest. In short, to use an expression that describes the facts pretty satisfactorily, even though it is somewhat old-fashioned: it was a fine August day in the year 1913.

In Part II, Pseudoreality Prevails, Ulrich joins the so-called "Collateral Campaign" or "Parallel Campaign", preparations for a celebration in honor of 70 years of the Austrian Emperor Franz Joseph's reign in year 1918, a committee to explore a suitable way to demonstrate Austria's political, cultural, and philosophical supremacy via a festival which will capture the minds of the Austrian Emperor's subjects and people of the world forever.

Multi-decadal variability rules. Not a hint in more than 1,700 pages that in a year this world will not exist.

Musil was slow - I read a sentence in the original (usually a page), then I read the translation, and I STILL do not get it. Only when you get deep into volume 2 you discover that the book is about something totally different than what you thought it was. Like learning physics. Musil was trained as a physicist, perhaps by Mach.

There are two translations, I have both.

Sunday, November 22, 2020

Joni's cat's meow

                                   (colored text is hyperlinks to meow music)
Here is my story so far, since the yesterday's Cross-fit Worldwide group suffering. I had sent an email to 20 close friends of my dead public health friend Katrin Kohl, asking that we meet virtually. So far, 28 hours later, in the spirit of GOP Pandemic, 2 have responded. That brings forth the melody of Joni Mitchell's : "Down to You"

   Old friends seem indifferent
   You must have brought that on
   Old bonds have broken down
   Love is gone
   Ooh, love is gone

So I listen to it, and YouTube continues into Joni's Hejira album, and then; and then I hear cat's meow! meow! And I say to myself "Who know that Joni would play Dan Wei's music!" and return back to the track to send the link to Dan Wei (there is a whole genre of cat's meow Chinese pop music love songs), go back, go forth, and back, and I still have not found it. I did learn that Joni is a cat person, and cat's meow is a thing in "western" pop music too: 

"Now that's what I call meow"

If you find Joni's original, let me know :)

 


Friday, November 20, 2020

Garden State Parkway chase

 At 6am I hear S next to me, she says as clear as a bell:

He is running away and he is in a T-shirt with stripes, that's what I mean.
The rest of S's dream:

Trump had escaped, and she was following the chase on her Twitter feed. He was spotted going south on Garden State Parkway. Then he was spotted driving north on New Jersey Turnpike. Then many sightings were reported - there were Trump doubles driving in different directions. But troopers had no trouble identifying the @realDonaldTrump, they had a device reassembling the thermometer used in airports - you point it at person's forehead, and it tells you whether this is the real Donald Trump, or not.

He was quickly apprehended.

Saturday, October 10, 2020

Hundred' mus med haler på

Hver lørdag kl 18:00 laver jeg crossfit med min Melchior/Westenholtz familie, og i dag opdagede jeg noget dybt chokerende:

Ikke en eneste har nogensinde hørt
Jeg åd dem alle, hver og en, med hud og hår og museben. 
 
Martin, som nu er dansk diplomat i Indien, og Lysistrata er enige: dårlig opdragelse. Kender man ikke den sang, så skal man spises med hud og hår og museben.

(fortsat fra February 10, 1984)

 

Friday, September 25, 2020

Mads bliver 60: set fra Liliput

for helvede - Toni er allerede 1/4 århundrede????  og det føles som det er et øjeblik siden den hammer, og den høvlebænk. Sidst vi så hinanden var nogle år tilbage, der vi sad ansigt til ansigt i sen og travl lørdags S-tog, han urolig og optaget af teenageres ængstelige tænker, så jeg forstirrede ham ikke.

Men - han kan ikke forestille sig hvordan det gik for mig i Mads fødselsdag. Jeg skulle har skrevet det ned som en Swift's Gulliver kapitel. Jeg var så lille og -efter han forladte mobilen på bordet- helt ubemærket af de unge smukke kvinder som kastede mig rundt som en lille udansk Lilliputaner, i lommer og under underarme og over lårene mens de talte om de ting unge kvinder taler om fordi de faldt dem ikke ind at ind i mobilen lever der et voksent, dansktalende mand. Jeg sang, men de hørte mig ikke:
Hundred' mus med haler på og bittesmå sandaler på gik morgentur med smedens hest mens solen selv gik ned i vest. Hundred' mus fik ømme tæer og købte sig en tømme hver og red af sted i vældig fart til landet, hvor man har det rart. Hundred' mus fik musemad og flødeskum og brusebad og ost og spæk og meget mer' som ikke skal beskrives her. Hundred' mus gik hjem en nat og traf en gammel, gnaven kat der åd dem alle, hver og en med hud og hår og muse ben.
Hr. Kontorchef Aurland, Toni's søn:
 
 
IMG_20170419_124553.jpg

venstre: Toni som teenager, efter demobilisering fra 2den verdenskrig partisanhær;
midten; som dansk businessman (tænk på Georg Madsen in Badehotellet)
højre: pensionist i firserne

Monday, August 24, 2020

Stanisław Lem, "De Impossibilitate Vitae and De Impossibilitate Prognoscendi"

 Bo Sixten Nilsson writes:

I got a message: "The following profile has an autosomal DNA match with your profile:

Estimated Relationship: 3rd to 4th Cousin"
Since I am a Swede living in Lund, south Sweden and believe that my ancestors have lived nearby in southern Sweden forever (at least several hundreds of years) the message is confusing. Do you know of any ancestors of yours that ended up in Sweden long ago?

Most of us have blond hair and blue eyes. Only my father’s mother had dark hair and dark eyes, as well as her mother and her grandparents. They all had Swedish names though, but didn’t really looked Swedish.
Your names indicate that you are living in some part of former Yugoslavia. It’s an interesting coincidence that I have spent several summers there in the 70’s and 80’s. I even managed to learn a bit of the language.

Dear Bo

My brother Radovan Belić maintains and understands our family tree, I defer to him to answer your query. I think Rakamarić's are genetically related to him but not me - no blood relations of mine.

I am Danish, and have visited Sweden often, have had Swedish girlfriends, have worked at Chalmers University, Sep 1984-Aug 1986, speak Swedish (badly, in manner of Danish speakers) so some recent genes left in Sweden are conceivable. No Swedish friend ever mentioned it, but Swedish women do not necessarily bring such details up.

A few centuries ago? That is fascinating. As they surely thought you in school, Swedes were a horrible plague upon whole of Europe, and one of the legends is that Croatian soldiers did the right thing, and killed Gustav II in the battle of Lützen, on 16. November 1632.

VojnaPovijest.vecernji.hr/vojna-povijest/poginuo-svedski-kralj-gustav-ii-adolf-1632-godine

My mother - a Croatian art historian told me about this, so it's very suspect unless there are non-Croatian sources corroborating that.

So Swedish soldiers certainly raped and pillaged in the South.

But immigrating to Sweden no sane male would do in 17th century, so making Swedish babies I find mysterious. A possibility is via my German origins:  docs.google.com Golmajers , Flickr.com Golmajer archive .

Radovan has the correct version, but basically my maternal grandfather's family can be traced to German serfs brought to (today's) Slovenia in 1658 or thereabouts. Don't know where they were before they were "brought" to Slovenia.

The good news is that in his book review "De Impossibilitate Vitae and De Impossibilitate Prognoscendi" Stanisław Lem proves that he (and consequently myself) could not have been born. The recursive genealogy traces him to Pleistocene. Along the way, Lem mentions that "[...] would not have encouraged his niece to marry the Croat for, though a giaour, it was a good and comely youth. In marrying the Croat, the grandmother on Mr. Mdivani’s mother’s side thus increased the chances of Professor Kouska’s birth", so there you have the Croatian connection.

Digging further, a few steps back, Lem notes: "As a result of the mixing of the chromosomes of that lubricious Paleopithecanthropus and that quadrumanous protohuman primatrice, there arose that type of meiosis and that linkage of gene loci which, transmitted through the next thirty thousand generations, produced on the visage of the young lady nurse that very smile, faintly reminiscent of the smile of Mona Lisa, from the canvas of Leonardo, which so enchanted the young surgeon Kouska."

Now, if you peruse this thing called "Google" you will discover that I actually exist, and busy myself with the impossibility of predicting the future. And predicting the past is so much harder. So it all makes sense.

We are talking about getting lost in a major rabbit hole here. If you dig up anything, please let me know...

Greetings to my Lund cousin 17 times removed :)
Predrag Cvitanović


 Bo Sixten Nilsson writes back:

Since my DNA matched with Hedviga Rakamarić (Kolaković) with a suggestion of 3rd to 4th cousin and you are not (DNA)-related to her I guess our common ancestor could very well be some 17 generations back. Some fun or interesting facts to point out:

Hedviga is a Swedish name as far as I know. It was quite common in the 19th century.

After my graduation from LTH (similar to Chalmers) in electronic engineering I worked there for two years, 1980-1982. After that I was mostly involved in running small companies,

I lived together with a woman from former Yugoslavia for 20 years. She grew up in Rijeka but was born in Serbia in the Banat close to the Romanian border. In the late 60’s she moved with her parents to Sweden where I first met her. Up until Yugoslavia blew up I visited all the republics except Macedonia, traveling around by car.

Skåne (Scania in English) where I live used to be a part of Denmark, but in one of those repeating wars between Sweden and Denmark Scania was occupied by Sweden. After the declaration of peace between these two countries in 1658 the new border remains - we still belong to Sweden. One of the most successful occupations in Europe I’ve heard.

Bornholm, a small Danish island close to the southeast coast of Scania, was also occupied, but the Danes bought it back to Denmark two years later. My grandfather’s mother was from there.

A good friend of mine, Jean Sellem a French guy born in Paris but living in Sweden for more than 50 years, is a former art professor - like your mother.

I do hope we will find some more solid clues about the DNA connection between Sweden and Croatia

On February 23, 2023 Harry Herlin pitches in:

"Howdy, This fellow looks a bit like you. Never knew about him but still …"

Predrag to Harry

My biological father, a red bourgeois (by the fact that his sister had joined partisans, worked in a cave with Tito towards the end of the war), traveled far and wide who after the liberation, was very fond of making (and leaving) babies, but the dates do not quite match. Ronka, handsome as he was (every Belić, but one, is very handsome) was born October 1945 but Germans had already surrendered on 8 May 1945, so a Massachusetts pregnancy would require time travel, "Terminator" style. But we should not give up hope. Can you check if Bo Sixten Nilsson is our common cousin, a few times removed?


Addendum, February 22, 2025
Illuminata to Predrag

Researching how this Not Parent Event (NPE) info impacts folks I stumbled upon some interesting literature: 

Discovering your presumed father is not your biological father: Psychiatric ramifications of independently uncovered non-paternity events resulting from direct-to-consumer DNA testing - ScienceDirect

This is an excellent paper. My comments:
"5% of participants discovered an unexpected biological parent".

"Those who chose to reveal their findings often experienced their difficulties were invalidated by friends and family".

" Mental health diagnosis prior to the discovery" These numbers are high, and to me "Level of distress compared to historical cohorts"  is inexplicable? Seems to say that not being genetically related to your parents doubles you distress, even if you do not know it?

" hiding a misattributed identity by a mother may be considered a severe violation of trust"

A bit of good news: " Protective factors for mental health were the ability to openly discuss the situation with one's social circle (as opposed to keeping it a secret) and acceptance of the discovery"