Startup_2

previous installment is here

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The Pitch

Archim sits at the desk deep in his thoughts, oblivious to the noisy gladiator show going on in  downtown Syracuse. He stares absent-mindedly at Pat who tries to get his attention. It is not working and Archim seems to be drifting away.
"Do you want me to oil you up?" Pat says and reveals his cleanly shaven calf, "or would you rather oil me up?"
Archim looks up, "I promise that we will fuck tonight dear, but I have some urgent work now."
"Work, work, you always work," Pat teases him.
"I have a presentation for the King in weeks' time, and this is rather important. The future of mathematics may depend on it," says Archim seriously.
"What is the presentation about?" asks Pat curiously.
"Well, that is the question. I have two choices and I wonder which one is better."
"Ok, try it on me," says Pat temporarily suspending his sexual urges.

"The first one concerns my formula for the surface of the sphere," starts Archim, "but what matters is that this number is not infinite. Since Erat showed that the Earth is round, it means  that there are only that many people, horses, and other stuff that can fit on Earth."
"I have been wondering what will happen when we reach that limit, and it is not going to be good," he continues.
"And why would the King want to listen to this?" asks Pat, "this is just going to annoy him."
Archim sighs and murmurs "yeah, right, clearly you are right." But after a pause he adds, "but I cannot stop thinking about it. I call it The Flat - this is when the growth stops. It is like death, but more abstract."

Pat is beginning to get impatient, "Death it is, but surely yours if you continue with this crazy shit. What is the second thing?"

Archim shakes his head, "The other thing is called Sand Reconer, it is a mathematical way to compute very, very large things."

Pat smiles broadly, "this sounds much better whatever it is. You ought to project your skills not your anxieties."

"But enough of this," he says sternly "you have been a bad boy," he motions to Archim to come over and as if by magic a large dildo appears in his hands.


The Flat

Archim and Pat are lounging in the bedroom. Pat is lying on his belly and Archim is holding some manuscript in one hand while kneading Pat's buttocks with the other.
"This erotic massage is harder than I thought," he says consulting the notes.
"Hmmm, it feels fine," purrs Pat, "do not stop and go around a bit."
Archim obliges but his motions become more mechanical and he appears deep in thought.
"What is going on?" Pat is getting suspicious.
"Every time I see you naked ideas come to my head," mumbles Archim.
"Good, this is the way it is supposed to work," answers Pat.
"Well, these are scientific ideas," whispers Archim.

"Darn," says Pat, his erection gone, "what is it?"

"It is about the Flat," says Archim, "that there will be a constant number of people on Earth."
"You mean that the sphere has finite area so when people cover it three layers deep they will be stomping each other," he recalls his version of the argument.
"Ha,ha, very funny," says Archim, "it is more complicated." "I think it is a natural law, people simply will stop having that many children at some point."
"You mean like us," jokes Pat.
"You are intolerable," Archim is clearly annoyed, "I mean humanity will stop growing and this will happen naturally."
"You know," says Pat resolutely, "the same number of people does not mean that these are the same people."
"Well, that is exactly the point," says Archim and looks at his engorged penis with surprise, "how different is it?"

"I am glad to see that you are getting ready to change the subject, this deep thinking is good for our sex life," Pat says with a smile and rolls over.


Communication

The writing is progressing well and Proc is in a good mood.
"The special thing about the Method is that it can be communicated so well. With mathematics you can share your exact thoughts with another person," she comments.
"You can do it about almost anything," Euc replies.
"Try to do it without talking," says Proc, "can you tell what I am trying to communicate now?"
Euc looks at her flabbergasted. "I do not have the faintest idea," he admits.
"See," says Proc as if this closes the case.
"Wait a moment," Euc does not give up, "try me."
He stares at Proc for about 30 seconds and then asks her whether she got it.
"You want beer and pussy," she admits grudgingly.
"At least one of us is a good communicator!" Euc exclaims triumphantly.
"This is so very basic," Proc mutters.
"Wait a moment," cries Euc, "I was quite descriptive about the second item, wasn't I?"
"I am not sure," Proc blushes slightly but seems very pleased.
"Let's have a short break," she announces heading towards the bedroom.

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next installment is here

Startup_1

previous installment is here

--------------------------------------------------

The Fifth Postulate

Euc and Proc are on a cruise to Luxor. It would have been a well deserved vacation if not for the fact that Proc decided that this would be a good time to start writing.
"This is not what you do on a cruise," moans Euc.
"And what do you do on a cruise?" asks Proc faking naivete.
"Arrgh" says Euc grinding his teeth.
"Oooo," says Proc tenderly, "I will put out after you write the first part."

Euc jumps up. "Lets get going," he says and heads for the main cabin which has a big table and chairs. He pulls the papyrus parchments, ink and a thin stick.
"What is the title? All I have is just bits and pieces," he says.
"Call it The Elements," Proc declares indicating that she has decided it long ago. "It is a good word and I hope that that rest of these motherfucking scientists will respect our priority," she grumbles.
It is a big, historical moment but somehow it feels business as usual.
"We begin with basic definitions and five postulates, are you ready?" starts Proc.
"Why five? Wouldn't  four be enough?" Euc is just being lazy, but Proc uses this opportunity to give him a glimpse of what it is all about.
"Four would not be enough but this is not easy to see. It took me many weeks, and completely new methods," she says with a hint of pride, "we are definitely not claiming it in the book."
"Why not? Aren't we not suppose to write all that you found out?" Euc is puzzled.
Proc laughs so hard that Euc gets momentarily distracted by her breasts bouncing up and down.
"The Elements is not about what I know. It is about what you can find out yourself; this is a manual for a new way of thinking. I set it up in an easy environment so anybody can do a little bit of it," she says with a smile.
"And people discover a great deal more once they get the hang of it," Euc finally starts grasping the idea.
"Precisely," says Proc happily. "Let me give you an example," she explains, "we start with some easy geometric statements and finish with a fact about triangles that Pyth dug out in some old manuscript."
She looks around the boxy cabin they are in. "Do you know that if you square width, height and length of this room, and add it all up, you will get a square of the diagonal from the low corner on the floor to the furthest one on the ceiling?"
"When did you have time to measure it?" Euc is quite surprised at the rapid change of subject.
"I did not measure it," Proc laughs again, "if you read The Elements you will figure it out yourself."

Last Day Math

The writing is going well and Euc and Proc decide to take a short break.
They sit at home in Giza looking at the pyramids and drinking beer.
"I still do not get why we do not put more into the Elements" starts Euc.
"More of what?" asks Proc with a hint of annoyance.
"More of the stuff that you discovered, not just geometry," answers Euc who hopes for something coming out of this effort in his lifetime.
"This is powerful stuff," repeats Proc, "too much is not good and geometry is a reasonable choice for a starting point."
"What do you mean by a reasonable choice? It there another one?" Euc is surprised.
"Sure," says Proc, "it could be about numbers, equations and many other things."
"Why isn't it then?" moans exasperated Euc.
Proc guzzles an entire mug of beer, burps loudly and decides to explain.
"The Method that we are describing in The Elements is very potent. The thing is that once you find something you can stand on it and reach further and nothing ever goes bad. In the end everything is connected to everything else."
"Yeah, you told me" that says Euc irritated.
"But what I did not tell you is that this is tied to a very special type of growth," says Proc gently.
"Huh?" is all that comes out of Euc.
"Imagine that you are a croc in a pond and you eat fish," Proc makes one of her stunning changes of topic. "Each day you eat twice as many fish as you ate so far and after seven days you eat them all."
"Say again?" says Euc not understanding any of it.
"When will you eat half of them?" asks Proc ignoring his protests.
Euc sips beer and shows clearly that he hates to be examined like this. "Just tell me," he says.
"Six days," Proc decides not torture him.
"Why six?" Euc is suddenly curious.
"Well," says Proc, "once you ate half, the next day you eat the rest. On the seventh day it is."
"Aha," says Euc as if he really got it, "unless they multiplied meanwhile."
"Good point," Proc praises him, "let's suppose they didn't."
"What kind of fish are they?" Euc is trying to escape, but to no avail.
"Well," Proc continues, "with math it is all the same, if there is an end to it, then half of it will be done on the last day."
"So, what is the point?" says Euc distractedly staring at Proc's breasts.
"You will get some if you focus," Proc gently pats his crotch, "what would you do if you wanted the fish to last an extra day?"
"So I am a croc now?" Euc asks and starts to loosen up his clothing.
"Yes you are," Proc gives him a flirtatious look, "but first answer me."
"I would eat only half of the fish each day, and keep the rest in a separate pond."
"Exactly, and if math had an expiration date it would be good to have the Last Day Math held in reserve, as a bargaining chip."
"Bargaining with whom?" Euc asks incredulously.
"How am I supposed to know?" answers Proc and removes her toga signaling that work is temporarily suspended.
"But you have to be quick," she says, "we have a lot of work to do."
"I am always quick," answers Euc running to the bedroom.
"Indeed you are," mutters Proc without particular enthusiasm.


Missing nuggets

It is early afternoon and Program Commanders hang out in their favorite place.
"Is it true that all nuggets are gone?" Ie starts the conversation.
Uce jumps in, "I deal with abstracts for the grant awards. It is a horror story - inconsistencies in capitalization, dangling modifiers, misplacement of relative clauses - you name it."
"But what about the content?" probes Ie.
"What content?" Uce gets agitated, "there is no content, it is all incomprehensible new-speak or generalities that fit everything."
"Could it be that Sas is right and the community is hiding good stuff from us?" Nna wonders aloud.
"Sas is an idiot," Mek does not mince words, "but he has a horse sense for being conned."
"So, do you think that math has stalled?" asks Dy.
Programs Commanders start pondering and finally Ris says what has been nagging them for a while, "physics has Higgs boson, astronomy has dark energy and matter, chemistry has nano-tubes and graphene. Maybe, just maybe, we are staying a tad behind."

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next installment is here

Startup_0

The entire text of Startup is here

-----------------------

Startup

Ziemia - kula u nogi

Hugo Steinhaus

Epilogue

It is a sunny July day in London and Lyd is heading downtown running around huge piles of snow.
"They should really clean it up, each year they leave more and more snow laying around as if they thought that it will melt all by itself!" she murmurs to herself irritated.
She arrives at the British Museum barely on time for a virtual tour. Lyd is running the show today and she sits in a darkened office in front of a large monitor. She reboots the computer and slowly the logo of Windows 17 comes to view. The router lights are blinking slowly.
"Sorry for the delay - network problems," she announces to all 30 participants, maximum that the technology allows.

"Put on your goggles, and lets get going," she says with some trepidation. But this is a good day and a flickering 3d rendition of the museum opens up for the students.
They start moving through the rooms and Lyd comments on some items: Rosetta stone, mummies, and few other artifacts of colonial overreach. Lyd likes to bring up some unusual findings and she points at the spidery fork with a short handle.
"According to the legend," she says, "this item - a head scratcher - played important role in the history of mathematics."

Students are intrigued and they stop briefly. "What is mathematics?" someone asks.
"Oh my, mathematics is an old science that we needed before the Flat," answers Lyd "they called it poetry of the Universe." "It was good for handling abstraction," she adds. "But we got rid of it a while ago."

"And what about the head-scratcher?" a question comes from behind. "Head-scratcher was a fad in the pharaohs' time, very popular. An inspiring idea, one might say," she glances at her watch and they move on to the paintings, her true interest.


Euc and Proc

It is late summer and it is very hot. Euc and Proc are hanging out in a tavern in downtown Cairo. They are chewing on frogs and locust and sipping flat beer occasionally glancing at the pyramids lurking in the distance. Sadly, Egyptian plagues did a real damage to gourmet dining in the area and it has been years since they feasted on vertebrates.

"Fuck this locust," mutters Proc exasperated with undercooked insects.
"Ease up, my dear, there is nothing to gain by being pissed," this is how Euc is trying to be constructive, "what were we talking about?"

"Geometry," Proc answers spitting bits of chitin. "Ah, geometry," says Euc, "where exactly are we with this stuff?"
Proc takes a giant gulp of beer and gets more enthusiastic. "I am thinking of developing a system of dealing with shapes and areas in a step by step fashion." She scratches her belly and continues "It is really cool stuff."

"But," she continues "you will have to write it all up." Her face darkens as this reminds her that she never learned how to read and even when this is all done there will be not much trace of her contribution.
"Write it up?" mumbles Euc, "what do you mean?"
"For fuck's sake, when it is ready, you will write it up! How complicated is this?" Proc pushes away the frogs.
"Two Blue Niles!" she roars into the dark insides of the tavern. Ever since the Jews escaped, the business is slow but beer is suddenly abundant.

Head Scratcher

Euc and Proc are sipping beer in downtown Alexandria and playing with the pair of head scratchers that they just got from a street salesman.
"Look at these idiotic toys. Everybody seems to want one these days," says Proc thoughtfully. She starts scratching her inner thigh, "Hmmm, it feels good."
"You are supposed to scratch your head," Euc says glancing at her.
"Yeah, right," Proc applies the device to the top of her head and starts rubbing it methodically.

"I think the same might happen to my geometry system," she announces out of blue, "given time and the right marketing."
"What can happen? You mean that we can sell it?" asks Euc incredulously.
"You can sell it, I cannot even sell my ass," Proc snaps angrily.
"Oh, I think you can," says Euc and gives her a smoldering look, "but how do you sell an idea?"
"My geometry is not a fucking idea," Proc suddenly gets irritated, "it is a method. No, it is The Method, and I just used it for geometry because more people would be interested. But this is a way of thinking that could be applied to anything."

"Ok, ok," Euc tries to calm her down, "so what do I do?"
Proc looks straight at him, "You just write it all up, and give it to anyone who is interested for free."
"Hm," Euc who is actually a good salesman ponders aloud, "and how long do I keep doing it until it sells?"
Proc thinks for a moment, "Hard to say, it could actually be hundreds of years."
"What?!" screams Euc, "hundreds of years?"
"Could be thousands in fact," says Proc, "it is a slow burner."
"With a head scratcher you get instant gratification," she explains, "but to buy into a new way of thinking takes a lot longer."
"But I will be dead before it even takes a root!" moans Euc.
"Can't you be more fucking sensitive?" snarls Proc, "you will be the most famous mathematician in history, while I will be forgotten in 20 years."
"Does it bother you?" asks Euc.
"No," answers Proc, "but every time I say something I feel a man putting words in my mouth."
"So what?" answers Euc looking lovingly at her, "every time I write something I feel a woman putting thoughts in my head."
"Oh, some attitude you have," Proc pretends to be offended.
"Anyway," Euc sounds serious for once, "why bother with all this math at all?"
"Because it is fucking important!" Proc clams up, drinks her beer and sulks in silence.


Suspicion

"Math is worthless!" declares Sas to the Program Commanders sipping after-lunch coffee. "Totally worthless," he repeats and eyeballs potential dissenters. Slowly Program Commanders perk up unsure where this is going. After all Sas is heading the Mathematics Unit of the Government Science Agency and this sounds so subversive.
"Yeah, worthless," Mek agrees avoiding confrontation.
"Do you have anything specific in your mind?" asks Uce incensed by such comments.
Of course the problem is that Sas is quite ignorant of any kind of mathematics and it is not easy to fight his prejudices with facts. Yet he stands his ground and expands glaring at Uce, "Nothing is going on. It feels like people hide good stuff in the drawer and feed us rubbish."
In spite of the confrontational tone of the whole exchange, this is a remark that has a ring of truth to it. For years, Program Commanders were combing the grant reports for nuggets - important and noteworthy accomplishments. This was a slow and dreadful slog, and the procedure was abandoned  recently.
"Is it possible that there are no more nuggets?" someone whispers.
"Well, if this is so, it is time to find out what is going on!" concludes Sas and signals that it is time to return to work.

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next installment is here

Revolution of 2017

The Government Science Agency is a small financial organization charged with the mission of supporting scientific projects. It does its job  by channeling  money to academic institutions around the country in response to  research proposals submitted by the scientific community.   GSA has three main sections: Financial, Administrative and Scientific. Financial section  is responsible for setting up the accounts and moving the money around, the Administrative section stays abreast of societal needs and keeps churning program calls and solicitations, and the Scientific section  is charged with the evaluation of the incoming proposals.

Seeds of the revolt were planted several years earlier when in commemoration of the 100th anniversary of the Bolshevik Revolution the GSA was to move to a new location. This widely anticipated event, commonly referred to as the Death March, was making the employees uneasy. The new building, fashioned in the state-of-art government architecture, was a bunker designed to withstand a direct hit from North Korean mid-range ballistic missile as well as a ground attack by light infantry. Unfortunately, the cost of such security enhancements forced the builders to sacrifice everything else. The building stood alone in a swampy, mosquito infested area, the offices were tiny, and bullet-proofing of the windows resulted in very little natural light getting in. So when the Death March was initiated in September 2017, and throngs of GSA employees started dragging their belongings to the new destination, it felt like being chased away from Eden. The morale was low and a month later the bills started rolling in. In no time it became obvious that the savings resulting from the move were an illusion.  So the decision was made to cut the cost down. At the all-hands-on-deck meeting each of the three sections of GSA was supposed to present their cost reduction ideas.

First was Vladimir, who was pulling on his goatee, while speaking for the Financial section. His proposal was to eliminate the Scientific section alltogether, and the argument was quite compelling. While GSA gets around 35 thousand grant proposals each year, 95% of the money gets distributed among the same 150 institutions in a completely predictable fashion, with the remaining 5% sprinkled randomly on what is left. The mechanism is quite stable and does not change much from year to year. Consequently, one can circumvent the minutia of the proposal submission and review, divide up the funds among the said 150 schools, run a lottery for everybody else, and let the  Administrative section help universities with figuring out the science.  With the exception of the employees of the Scientific section, the speech was received with thunderous applause, and Vladimir was beaming happily while being embraced warmly by his colleagues.

Next was Ninel, the head of the Scientific section. She did not comment on Vladimir’s plan other than glaring at him murderously, but quickly went to the point: we do not need the Administrative section! The main strength of GSA is an unsolicited submission, an unprompted idea  that comes from the foraging of an aimless mind. Unsolicited proposal does not respond to any specific program call concoted by the Administrative section and it does not need any such aid. In fact, she roared pounding her fists on the lectern, the Administrative section is a parasitic growth on a healthy body of the GSA!  Many rounds of applause greeted this thoughtful plan as Ninel gracefully departed.

The last speaker was Ilyich who was in charge of the Administrative section. He scratched his forehead which  was encompassing most of his cranial surface and started with a low whisper that appeared to be laced with obscenities. But soon enough his proposal started shaping up - off with the Financial section, he declared.  The future of the GSA lies in the creation of multiple programs responding to the societal challenges, and thoughtful evaluation of them.  However, funding actual proposals is an expensive option that, well, is and should remain an option. We can do a lot of good with praise, he concluded with a wicked grin, and thus the Financial section has to take a hike. Excited yelling and whistling greeted this speech, and Ilyich was pumping his fists while walking down the podium.

This total deadlock put GSA at standstill but  events kept unfolding. By October of 2017 the support of the proverbial graduate student became much more costly than tending for his or her advisor and overhead rates went into triple digits.   These absurdities allowed Vladimir, Ilyich and Ninel to start putting their differences aside and unite against the common enemy. Yet, GSA was fighting these corporate raiders with its hands tied by multiple layers of government regulations and so the decision was made  to raise the scientific masses. In few weeks following the fateful all-hands meeting  the “Scientific Manifesto” was written and mailed to the entire community. The Manifesto confirmed the obvious - ability to learn is a universal human feature and to reach the boundary between known and unknown is a trip that does not require an institution that saddles you with un-payable mortgage and demands ransom for its bloated administration from the Government.  The Manifesto told the scientific masses that they are being exploited, abused and preyed upon for profit by decrepit and corrupt university system.  GSA called them to unite under the banner of Science and fight along the Government for much needed changes.

The rest is history - plundered sponsored research offices, dazed and confused deans watching their fancy furniture being carted away, and the establishment of the wittnes protection program for the university officials.  Ten days of mayhem that you have seen on your tv.

Was it worth it? You bet! The university system, purged of profiteers and busy-bodies, blossomed and became a choice and destination. At last,  the rational thought invaded all aspects of academic life.

The Government Science Agency weathered those tumultuous times well.  The new building, known as the  Fortress, was vacated and the agency reclaimed her old dwellings by chasing out the new renters.    Today Vladimir, Ilyich and Ninel are acting as a single person at the helm. One of the first initiatives they had when things quieted down was to issue a document describing the New Scientific Policy,  a five year program of rebuilding the university system and the spirit of scientific exploration. Things are looking up even if many problems remain.

Historia rodzinna - test wyboru

Siała baba mak,

Nie wiedziała jak,

A dziad wiedział,

Nie powiedział,

A to było tak…

Wybierz nastrój

Zmarnowałem podeszwy w całodziennych spieszeniach,

Teraz jestem słoneczny, siebiepewny i rad.

Idę młody, genialny, trzymam ręce w kieszeniach,

Stawiam kroki milowe, zamaszyste, jak świat.

W życia wędrówce, na połowie czasu,

Straciwszy z oczu szlak niemylnej drogi,

W głębi ciemnego znalazłem się lasu.

Jak ciężko słowem opisać ten srogi

Bór, owe stromych puszcz pustynne dzicze,

Co mię dziś jeszcze nabawiają trwogi.

Wybierz e-mail

Kochani,

Postanowilismy zalegalizować nasz związek. Zawarcie małżeństwa odbędzie się 20 marca 2015 r. o godz. 11:30 w Leeds Town Hall.

Nie organizujemy żadnych uroczystości ani przyjęcia. Chcemy jednak podzielić się z wami wiadomością wyrażającą przekonanie o trwałości naszych uczuć i satysfakcji ze współżycia oraz pragnieniu kontynuowania tego do końca dni naszych.

A & Z

Aleksandra Kania i Zygmunt Bauman

  

Kochani,

zbliżają się Święta i okazuje się że w Anglii nie da się kupić śledzia! Na dodatek zepsuł mi się mój ulubiony fotel no i oczywiście pada deszcz. Ale w ogóle to wszystko jest jak najlepiej chociaż z okna w łazience dmucha zimno a prysznic jest ledwie ciepły.

Całuję,

Ola

Wybierz śpiewankę

Kółko graniaste

Czworokanciaste

Kółko nam się połamało

Cztery grosze kosztowało

A my wszyscy bęc!

Chłopcy, dziewczęta, dalej spieszmy się!

Karuzela czeka, wzywa nas z daleka.

Starsze już poszły, a młodsze jeszcze nie.

Hejże ha! Hejże ha! Śpieszcie się.

Hej, hopsasa, jak ona szybko mknie,

Hej, dalej, dalej do zabawy śpieszmy się!

Wybierz zdjęcie

   

Test nie jest łatwy ale poprawne odpowiedzi są już znane. Najlepsze życzenia i gratulacje dla państwa młodych no i takie zakończenie:

Tak mi dobrze, tak mojo, aż rechoce się serce.

Same nogi mnie niosą gdzieś — i po co mi, gdzie?

Idę młody, genialny, niosę BUT W BUTONIERCE,

Tym co za mną nie zdążą echopowiem: — Adieu! —

The Parrondo Method

Reviewing and evaluating scientific proposals is a delicate art and an ongoing concern of the Government Science Agency. We begin with asking for an expert opinion, through the system of panels of experts, meandering through randomized selections relying on measuring of the alignment of stars and planets,  insect and rodent fights and toward reading tea leaves and cow's intestines. We try it all and we are still not satisfied!

So it comes as as no surprise that  the Mathematics Unit of the GSA decided to use modern scientific tools and to infuse the reviewing process with a novel and creative method. The new scheme is called the Parrondo Method after Juan Parrondo who in 1996 discovered the following paradox:


There exist pairs of games, each with a higher probability of losing than winning, for which it is possible to construct a winning strategy by playing the games alternately.  (see here)


In a hindsight, it is no surprise that the Government Science Agency is a fertile ground for mining such an idea. GSA has a considerable number of proposal calls of dubious value, and many questionable reviewing mechanisms, while most of the projects originate from the best scientific minds that the country has to offer. Consequently, the Parrondo Method - marrying a misguided solicitation with an inferior funding mechanism might be a winning strategy, and a way to identify hidden scientific gems.  Rather than to drown in  idle speculations the Mathematics Unit decided to test the Parrondo Method in practice.   After some deliberations mathematicians chose one of their weaker proposal calls as  the first ingredient. Substandard funding mechanism was harder to identify but eventually the Mathematics Unit settled on the following scheme called Double Negation: rather than to support the top proposals identified by the reviewers, they would provide funding to the investigators of the lowest ranked proposals in return for a promise to abandon  their projects.

Several months later the proposals arrived and the panel was formed to evaluate them. The selected solicitation was called "What Were You Thinking?" (WWYT?) and its principal objective was to:

"strengthen the nation's scientific competitiveness by increasing the number of well-prepared  citizens, nationals, and permanent residents who pursue careers in the mathematical sciences. WWYT? program will enrich the training of the above mentioned individuals by infusing it with a number of tangential and time consuming topics while reinforcing their doubts in the original career choice."

Most mathematicians felt that "What Were You Thinking?"  program recognizes pressing societal need of escaping from dead-end training situation yet they felt that as a program for developing mathematical workforce it is a loosing proposition in comparison with strengthening of the mathematics curriculum.  "Double Negation" was also  seen to be inferior  to simply supporting the best projects.

After the panel, we sat down to apply the Parrondo Method and we found out that the results were nothing short of miraculous. Rather than a disaster and train wreck that was widely anticipated if standard procedures were followed, the Mathematics Unit came up with  a clear and powerful message to the community.  It planted seeds of hope and relevance to a few who labored on the border of oblivion and paid respects to those who bask in glory of social acceptance. As a result of the application of the Parrondo Method the top mathematics departments of the country will get a generous dollop of funding to abandon futile pursuits and to re-focus their training on mathematics, to remind their faculty of their responsibilities regarding their own discipline, to keep students attentive and occupied and to make sure that the next generation of mathematicians actually become mathematicians.  At the same time the departments that heavily invest in multidisciplinary training, dwell on the societal challenges, spectacular applications and important contributions to the domain sciences will get a generous pat on the back for sticking to their mission and getting the work done. The Mathematics Unit will send them a strong signal of appreciation for understanding that mathematics is everywhere, and if well tended for, it can grow and blossom even in the most inhospitable environment.

Celebration

Tragicomedy in three acts.  Dedicated to Stanislaw Wyspianski.

Characters:
All characters are employees of a Government Science Foundation. In particular,

Cedric -  member of upper management
Rooster -  member of upper management
First Year Rotator -  temporary employee
Second Year Rotator -  temporary employee
Permie -  permanent employee
Alice -  bright child, a daughter of the First Year Rotator

There are also ghosts of:

Vannevar Bush - sage and visionary
Linus Pauling - Nobel winning chemist
Richard Feynman - Nobel winning physicist
Kurt Godel - famous mathematician

and lastly

Ghost of Unfunded Investigator

Setting:
In the background there is a big brightly lit conference room in a Government Science Foundation. End-of-year party is in full swing and people are milling around. The scene is the area just outside that room, with dimly lit corridor extending in both directions. Two chairs and a side table, where characters come out to sit, talk and smoke e-cigs,  complete the setup.

Act I

Scene 1 Did you affirm?

(First and Second Year Rotators walk in with wine glasses in hand. They turn on e-cigs and sit down.)

First Year Rotator (strikes a conversation apprehensively) : The system of keeping track of our time is a bit weird, don’t you think?

Second Year Rotator (nonchalantly): Oh, c’mon. You just stamp, stomp, save, affirm, approve, accept, validate, commit, vindicate, submit and voila - it is someone else's job after that!  Two weeks of work are properly encoded in the system.

First Year Rotator: Stomp and vindicate?!

Second Year Rotator (laughing): Just kidding. These are my own inventions, this is just to keep you mentally alert when you mouse around. However, many of us have stand up desks just so that they can stomp around when going gets tough.

First Year Rotator (as if awaken from a dream): Yeah, yeah  but isn’t looking at the work that was actually done more sensible?

Second Year Rotator (brushes it away with motherly concern): Sense? What kind of attitude is this? This is not kindergarten, you cannot do everything with a single mouse click!

(They gulp down their wine, pocket their vaporizers and head back to the party.)

Scene 2 Diversity

(Permie and First Year Rotator come out and turn on e-cigs. They settle down, take deep drags and produce  dense clouds of nicotine vapor.)

Permie (announces while staring fiercely into space): Today diversity is the final frontier of our work.

First Year Rotator (confused): Huh?

Permie (with authority and emphasis): There are whole areas of science scarred by tremendous levels of underrepresentation. Women, minorities, veterans - they are all missing in action!

First Year Rotator (with a flash of understanding): And the other guys finally got tired of it?

Permie (confused): What other guys?!

First Year Rotator: The ones that are overrepresented. They must be laboring hard and complaining about it a lot.

Permie (annoyed):  Nobody is complaining you dummy,  except for us. You must have missed some training.

First Year Rotator (grasping for understanding): Don’t you have to tackle overrepresentation simultaneously with underrepresentation.  Isn’t it a zero sum game?

Permie: No it isn’t! Arrgh! I cannot work in this environment. Go talk to Cedric.

(They get up and go back to the main room.)

Scene 3 Procedures

(Cedrick and Permie get out for a smoke. Cedric has a fancy looking atomizer with adjustable taste and nicotine settings. Clearly leadership position comes with an additional stress level.)

Cedric (thoughtfully): Why is it always assumed that the default settings are zero?

Permie (desperately trying to connect to an unforseable direction in which this conversation is going): Well, isn’t it the most common case?

Cedric: I am thinking of the form 1512. It has 16 fields where employees report travel expenses. Shouldn’t we request that they actually put zero if it is a zero?

Permie (a bit flabergasted): If there is nothing to report they leave it blank, don’t they?

Cedric (with grim satisfaction): Exactly.

Permie (uncomfortably): Hmmm.

Cedric (after a brief pause and very sweetly): It is a good idea to fill in those missing zeros and I am glad that it comes from you. I will announce it during our stand-up meeting tomorrow morning and there will be a decade worth of data to back-fill.

Permie (whispers): Ouch, my colleagues will thank me for this!

(First Year Rotator joins them and starts puffing anxiously on the latest nicotine delivery system.)

First Year Rotator (looking at Cedric): Do we have some policies addressing scientific overrepresentation?

(Cedrick and Permie jump up.)

Cedric (alarmed): Watch what you are talking about! What overrepresentation?

First Year Rotator (evidently lost): I dunno. Like all these foreigners. (his voice trails off)

(Cedric and Permie who are both foreign born look uneasy.)

Cedric (as if passing judgment): Listen, (he leans over trying to read First Year Rotators' nametag) there is a 48-hour course in our training academy covering such topics. Lets go back to this conversation after you complete it and pass all tests.

(First Year Rotator looks forlorn and goes back to the party.)

Cedric (muses): Training, training and more training.

Permie (looking alarmed): Perhaps we should join the crowd now.

(They retreat.)

Scene 4 Ghosts of the glorious past

(Second Year Rotator and Rooster come out of the main room. They get e-cigs going and check  dimly lit corridor.)

Second Year Rotator (struggling for a conversation topic in the presence of his supervisor and choosing poorly): Isn’t our organization not quite what it used to be?

Rooster (taken aback as this in a few short years will be his legacy): Do you have anything specific in mind?

Second Year Rotator (suddenly worried): No, nothing special. But were we not more involved in the past?

Rooster (irritated): Darn!  Cedric is keeping everybody so involved that any more of it and we will have a revolution here! (he calms down and continues) You know what?  It is the year’s end. Let’s invite the ghosts of past investigators and ask them these questions. It can’t be simpler than that.

(Both Rooster and Second Year Rotator stand up,  blow  wispy clouds of nicotine vapor and whisper into the dark corridor)

Rooster and Second Year Rotator: Come out, come out wherever you are! Funded or declined, live or dead - the Foundation is calling you!

(They head back as faint echo bounces off the walls. Just when they disappear inside, the lights flicker strangely.)

Act II

Scene 1 Gatekeeper

(Nine-year old Alice who attends the party with her parent comes out of the room. She is bored and she tries unsuccessfully to remove the  wrapping from a nicotine patch  and  apply it to her knee.
Suddenly there is a motion in the corridor and four ghosts come into view.)

Alice (firmly): Who are you ugly things?

Ghosts (somehow stumped and not used to deal with the living): We were invited by the management.

Alice (laughing): Sure you were. Must be friends of the DJ.

Ghosts: DJ?? We are ghosts of past glory on a friendly mission.

Alice (dead serious): Identify yourself!

First Ghost (with dignity) In my former life I was called Vannevar Bush, and these are ghosts of Richard Feynman, Kurt Godel and Linus Pauling.

Alice (firmly): Those names mean nothing to me.

Feynman's ghost (oozing ectoplasm profusely and clearly recognizing  the communication problem): What about your credentials? Show us your badge!

Alice (cool and composed): I can see through you Mister. You don’t have a body. Go away!

(Godel's ghost is visibly upset and mutters something in German, Pauling's ghost pops vitamin C like it is going to make a difference. It is a clear impasse.)

Scene 2 Famous and less famous

(At this moment Rooster and Cedric come out of the main room sucking on their e-cigs and they notice waiting ghosts.)

Cedric: Don’t we have procedures here? I do not want some untrained personnel intercept our visitors.  (he glares at Alice)

(There is a flash of recognition on his face as he sees Pauling and Feynmann’s ghosts.)

Cedric (respectfully): Dr. Pauling and Dr. Feynman, so to speak. How glad to see that you have made it here.

Rooster (hesitantly): I have summoned them. These are the ghosts of our past glory.

Cedric (with a hint of sarcasm): Funny, I do not recognize the other two.

Rooster: The bigger one is the founder of our organization and the other one is some mathematician (he also displays hesitation concerning the ghosts of lesser people.)

Cedric (darkly): Welcome,  welcome. But if you are the ghosts of past glory I am going to check on your past annual reports. They better be in order.

(all ghosts start pulsating nervously as the past glory involved greatly relaxed reporting rules.)

Scene 3 Chit chat with ghosts

Pauling’s ghost (with emphasis): No need for hostilities. We bear gifts of peace and future glory.

Cedric (with suspicion): What makes you think we need any help?

(He glances at Godel’s ghost who wears a t-shirt emblazoned with logo “Jersey  roots, global reach” and who glares at Cedric accusingly.)

Cedric (murmurs to himself): I do not like these Princeton snobs.

Feynman's ghost: Oh c’mon. We read the news. You can do better, much better in fact.

Rooster (asserting authorithy): Cedric! Lighten up, I think we got something good here.

Cedric (snaps back): This is all quite irregular. If Congress gets wind of it we will all be in trouble. Consorting with ghosts is no better than watching pornography.

Rooster (bows his head towards the ghosts): This is a birthplace of ideas and you are like four kings bearing gifts. We welcome you.

(He gestures toward the main  room but ghosts hate well lit spaces and they do not budge.)

Cedric (clearly annoyed by the religious innuendo): Pst, pst!

Rooster (excitedly): Oh please, do tell us what are you bringing.

Scene 4 The gift

Vannevar Bushs’ ghost (as he reaches somewhere below his waistline): It is a five and quarter inch dick, disk I mean (he becomes ghostly white from embarrassment), containing a document. This document is a rallying cry for the scientific community, a challenge, a vision, and a budget driver, (he runs out of breath) something that you call a solicitation.

(he presents an ectoplasm dripping disk to Rooster).

Cedric (bored): Solicitation? We have just a million of those.

Rooster (is getting more annoyed with Cedric.  He accepts the disk with some apprehension and continues with reverence): An old technology, but please, do tell more.

Godel’s ghost (barely comprehensibly): Do you know how schwer it ist fur a poltergeist to schreiben on eine diskette?

Vannevar Bushs’ ghost (with pride): This is not just a solicitation. This is a mother of all solicitations!  It will light a fire under your universities, raise the mood of your scientists, call the best minds from afar and bring rational thought back into the fold. We will ride the wave again! (he roars) We will ride the wave again!
(Godel and Pauling’s ghosts try to join in while Feynman’s ghost is giving high fives all around. One wonders what they think about the current line-up of programs at Government Science Foundation)

Rooster (who quite badly needs something to assert himself in the organization is clearly excited): Can it be? This sounds like an answer to our prayers.

(Cedric is deeply in thoughts and looks worried)

Cedric (with more than a hint of doubt): There are no compliance issues I hope.

(Ghosts look a bit puzzled but Feynman’s ghost reads the situation correctly.)

Feynman’s ghost (with a twinkle in his eye): No Sir, none whatsoever!

(Afterwards all ghosts disappear,  Cedric and Rooster stand in the middle staring at the disk.)

Act III

(Everybody gets out and all look at Rooster and Cedric. The batteries in their e-cigs are completely discharged and  nobody is smoking anymore.  For a brief moment their nicotine-free minds are in direct contact with reality. Everybody feels like this is history in the making although only Rooster, Cedric and Alice know what has actually happened.)

Scene 1 Plans

Permie (excitedly) What just happened? Alice is talking about some ghosts?

First Year Rotator: Ghosts?

Second Year Rotator (semi-seriously): Stranger things happened here ... we had mice once.

Rooster (solemnly and raising the floppy up in the air): This is a gift from our past heroes. A new solicitation, and it is the mother of all solicitations! (obviously there is not much more to say at this point and he also chokes from excitement.)

First Year Rotator: Wow! this is great, lets get it rolling.

(Second Year Rotator pulls out his laptop and starts fumbling with his 50-character password. There is a palpable spark of excitement.)

Cedric (decisively): Slow down, slow down my friends! We have procedures, chain of command (he takes the floppy from Rooster who stands frozen). Let me put it in the system and then we will discuss it some more. But you stay here and wait for the sign. Look at the big monitor, solicitation will first show up there.   (He wanders off to his office.)

Permie: Lets talk about the options. We really do not know what it is all about.

Rooster: No, we should wait for the sign. Wait for the sign (he repeats sternly), don’t be so hasty.

First Year Rotator (as always inquisitive): Who said to wait for the sign, ghosts or Cedric?

(Nobody remembers and they quarrel, Rooster says that these were ghosts but others point to Cedric).

Permie (with resignation): Ok, lets wait.

(all but Alice plug in their vaporizers into the usb ports in their laptops. Emotions settle as they commit  to waiting.)

Scene 2 Disaster

(The clock on the wall jumps ahead by a few hours. The sun will rise soon. Cedric returns with a worried look on his face. A cloud of nicotine vapor trails behind him.)

Cedric (reports hastily): I found an old computer and opened the file. The fonts were all too small and there were millions of compliance issues. Surely you were joking Mr Feynman (he adds sarcastically remembering Feynman’s ghost promises of quality.)
I did not bother to read it but tried to make the most pressing corrections so that it can pass administrative review. You would not believe it but I guess that these ghosts have never read the Grant Proposal Manual, even the oldest edition (he is clearly shocked by this).

Permie (interrupting) Did you save a copy of the file?

Cedric (exasperated): Well, the system was very suspicious of it and it refused to save it.

Second Year Rotator (greatly agitated): Did you e-mail it to yourself?

Cedric (annoyed): I tried but Outlook did not like the file.

First Year Rotator: Did you put it in Dropbox?

Cedric (with finality): Don’t you know that Dropbox in not legal in our organization? Have you heard of North Korea?!

Rooster (trying to calm everybody down): Ok, ok, lets read the floppy again.

Cedric (whispering): Well, that is the problem.

Alice (very loudly): Sir, sir, we can’t hear you!

Cedric (repeats louder): Well, that is the problem. I do not have the floppy anymore. I seem to have lost it. (he says it in an oddly disarming way.)

Scene 3 Aftermath

(There is a faint beep of e-cigs indicating full charge and everybody starts smoking again. The night is nearly over and the mood lifts slightly as clouds of nicotine vapor fill the air. There is a feeling that something odd has just happened, but nobody quite knows what it was, and the reality takes over and slowly pushes it aside.)

(Alice is the first to notice some movement down the corridor.)

Alice (firmly): Who are you?

(Ghost of Unfunded Investigator emerges from darkness. All the declinations gave him rhinoceros’ skin and he has multiple scars from reviewers’ insults.  He barrels forward unfazed.)

Ghost of Unfunded Investigator (in a deep booming voice): I am the Ghost of Unfunded Investigator. I appear to those whose projects have been declined. It is hard work these days (he adds it as if he was blaming somebody in the present company).

First Year Rotator: Why are you so angry?

Ghost of Unfunded Investigator (incredulous): Who do you think I am? Mickey Mouse?! I am permanently pissed! I represent people who are responsible for 90% of the scientific progress and who get abused at every turn of their career.

(First and Second Year Rotators get quiet and thoughtful while Permie looks like he has heard it many times already)

Cedric (annoyed): Listen buddy, in any case you are in the wrong place, we do not apply for grants ourselves.

Ghost of Unfunded Investigator (with an air of finality and laughing devilishly): You are wrong, you are so wrong! Life is a one big funding competition. And you know what?  you did not make the cut! You just blew it (he howls unpleasantly).

Permie (with concern and agitation): What will happen to us?

First Year Rotator (stunned): I just started here. I did not even finish my training.

Second year Rotator (with anxiety): Are we being punished?

Rooster (with regret): I should have been more assertive.

Ghost of Unfunded Investigator (as if talking to children): Stop whining! Nothing will happen to you. I am here to help you to forget  and to heal.

Rooster (surprised): Really? Thank you very much!

(There is a moment of eerie silence and everybody watches as the Ghost of Unfunded Investigator pulls out a small keyboard and starts playing a simple tune. People begin dancing and swaying back and forth with the rhythm as if hypnotized.)

Ghost of Unfunded Investigator (playing and singing, see here for the studio recording):

Oh where, oh where did my floppy disk go,
what is wrong, what is wrong with my data flow,
data is polluted, floppy got deleted,
we will now lay low, lay low
we will now lay low, lay low.

(this repeats endlessly, each time fainter and with some echo)

(The music is soothing and the lights in the corridor turn on. Everybody slowly sleepwalks to their offices as the new day begins.)