With only a few exceptions (not believed to be relevant to the point of this discussion), interactions between subatomic particles are time-reversible. Macroscopic processes are anything but: water doesn't flow uphill, shards of exploded capacitors don't reassemble themselves, and the hair on my head doesn't get thicker.

How can matter be so indifferent to the polarity of before/after, and yet comprise the world as we know it?

This explanation strikes me as delightfully bizarre:

The thermodynamic arrow of time and the Second law of thermodynamics are thought to be a consequence of the initial conditions in the early universe. Therefore they ultimately result from the cosmological set-up.

In other words, time itself doesn't have a direction to it. The difference between past and future is intimately tied to how ordered the universe once happened to be. (We think.)

Birth and youth and ascent have such a different character than decline and death. This is true about people, relationships, and, well, about businesses.

Some twelve years ago, I began working for a startup company that was full of the optimism and enthusiasm typical of a fresh start. Like most startups, it failed. The demise was sad and drawn out. Over the years it reorganized, renamed itself, saw complete turnover in its employees--ultimately to no avail.

I worked for them on and off for about nine years. I saw much of the rise and fall first hand, but I wasn't there for the bitterest end.

Today's mail brought a form of closure: a letter whose first word ("Sadly") sets a tone night-and-day different from the spirit of optimism the venture had started with. I reflect, with wonder, on how that contrast--that typifies the difference in character between so many births and deaths--may be an artifact of the initial conditions of the universe.

Spencer Elden, the boy on the cover of Nevermind, is now 17.

(The rest of the NPR piece is here.)

Fame is a strange thing. People become famous for all kinds of reasons, and their fame typically results in a lot of people knowing only a little about them.

Fame can be a mixed blessing; the "it's kinda cool, I guess" in Spencer's statement suggests that there have been pros and cons to his experience.

Advances in communication have of course increased the scale and extent of fame, with effects on the lives of spectators as well as on the lives of the famous. It's not like dwelling on the affairs of others is something only modern man has indulged in, but we sure have endless opportunites to do it.

It is with great sadness that I break this news to readers: it looks like Jacob has died. I happened to be visiting with a neighbor when she noticed him, still, on his side, by their house.

I didn't know whether I even wanted to announce this. Jacob was such a hit with readers that I thought it might be better to spare y'all the news. And without dental records, how could I even identify him for sure? It would be bizarre to tell you he was no more, only to later discover that he was still around. But from his look, where he was when he died, and the general paucity of other jackrabbits around our houses this summer, I think it was Jacob (who, I learned yesterday, my neighbor had dubbed "Jack").

I miss him. He always seemed so at home here.

I'll close with these words my friend Mark had once written for a memorial service:

Glory, honor, no peevish curse for loss,
for love is loss is love is gift is heaven is love
and nothing, not even tomorrow, is expected.

"i whimper for pictures of sparkling objects."

I have a few beer-can-sized electrolytics on hand that would sparkle nicely when, say, connected to a third rail. But I don't live near railroad tracks any more, I'm not crazy enough to connect anything to a high voltage transmission line, and if I tried to fry a big capacitor at home, a circuit breaker would probably trip first.

Smaller capacitors aren't as exciting--but in the spirit of trying to fulfill a reader's request, I tested a little 50V-rated cap's response to 240VAC around sundown today. You can download video or watch it on YouTube. (By policy, Tommyjournal eschews embedded videos.)

P.S.: YouTube has some nice high voltage videos.
E.g., this one, that it listed as related to mine, is pretty great.

Another installment in an occasional series of pics of electrical apparatus.

Insulators, cables, and Stockbridge dampers in one of the longest (1362 km) and highest power (3.1 gigawatt) transmission lines in the world: The converter station at the southern terminal of this line uses six transformers that weigh over a million pounds each.

It did that weird thing over the weekend, where water falls out of the sky. Nice lightning on Saturday too.

This morning has an unsettled clearing-storm look.

rocks, mountains, orographic clouds, ...

St. Petersburg, Russia has a building whose façades look like bar codes. For pics, see "Barcode, by Vitruvius"; to see the building in context, try the aerial view at Google Maps.

The building's name, not surprisingly, is Штрихкод (Russian for bar code).

The designers of the building took some (tasteful, in my opinion) liberties with the bars and the numerals. Although the bars include the thin paired center and guard bars used in UPC/EAN bar codes, the rest of the bars don't follow the digit-encoding patterns. The numerals resemble those in the standard typeface used for the purpose (OCRB), but they've been broken into pieces (possibly a practical consideration) and letterforms have been altered (compare an OCRB 7 with the building's 7, for example).

	633 nm

I'm partial to red, and I think the building looks great in that color. I have to wonder, though, if it's an accident that the hue is so close to that of the 633 nm laser light commonly used in scanners.

Beyond possible fabrication issues (e.g., I don't see any 8 digits), I can divine no rhyme nor reason in the choice of numbers that appear on the building. Perhaps their meaning is deep and obscure.

It's been hot the past few days, about 10 degrees F above normal. And...! Smoke from forest fires has been gracing the area for the past few weeks.

The good news is, it could be worse. I remember a horrendous fire around five years ago that lasted for most of a month and brought us ash that fell out of the sky and collected on everything, almost like snow flurries. This week's air hasn't been nearly that bad--and for that I am grateful.

With the evap cooler on its high fan speed today, plenty of cool air was issuing forth from my front door. Faced with the choice between 100 degree heat and cooler air by my house, Jacob did the right thing:

I promise to get back to regular blogging (at some point). I realize there is a limit to how long rabbit pix can hold readers' attention.

"you should name the rabbit"

Very well. Jacob.

More pics, from this afternoon. Jacob sits still in one position about as well as I do--which is to say, not very.

Cool air from my front door settles on the ground nearby.

On hot summer afternoons, this jackrabbit evidently likes climate control.