We Few

Alan B. Scrivener
abs@well.com

I need to get this written down. Maybe we can edit it later and include it in the Final Transmission. But in a any case I need to make time to make a written record of the origin of We Few. A paper if you will. Our first paper trail.

Re: Paper

For the longest time we wouldn't have dared to leave a paper trail, in case something were to fall into the Wrong Hands. But our security has grown as we have realized our true situation and learned to make the best use of it, and now we agree the time is write for me to write the History, the Paper on our endeavor. I will try npt to fall into the traps of elaboration and excessive research (procrastination) that plagued my Master's Thesis. I will just write it down as it happened.

Before Paper of Eb

As you will soon see it would be impossible for me to begin at the beginning, so I will begin at my beginning instead, and start the Paper with my story.

My name is Ebbe Geistsieg, or "Eb" for short. I was born in Knoxville, Tennessee in 1980, and grew up nearby at Fontana Dam, which is a vacation resort built around a large hydro-electric dam in the northwest corner of the state of North Carolina.

The dam was built by the Tennesseee Valley Authority during World War Two, supposedly to provide electricity for aluminum processing in Knoxville so they could build planes and ships, but also to provide electricity for uranium enrichment at Oak Ridge, as part of the top-secret Manhattan Project. Oak Ridge used some of that power to enrich the fuel for the atom bomb that was dropped on Hiroshima. All this was told to me by some very old timers I met growing up in the woods around the lake above the dam.

The resort was a complex of cabins in the piney woods, with a general store and restaurant, boat and horse rentals, hayrides, and the usual. My dad's family, the Geistsiegs, and my mom's family, the Nietsteins, ran the resort.

Jerry & the dam

Looking back, I'd say I had a pretty cool childhood, but at the time I couldn't wait to get out of Fontana Dam. I studied hard at public school in nearby Juneberry, North Caroline, did well in math, joined the math club and entered a few competitions (yes, they do exists) and managed to swing a scholarship to Georgia Tech. in mathematical physics.

CERN, IL, B. Marro, or Ramblin' Rec

>>>

I picked the school because of all the engineering schools I considered, it was in the town that had the biggest reputation for partying and hot woment. That was on the advice I got from my older and more worldly cousin Jerry. I escaped Fontana for "Hotlanta."

But mostly I only saw the classrooms, labs and dorms, and later student apartments of the Georgia Institute of Technology. Oh, I tried the student cafes, night clubs, Transvision Vamp concerts and stuff, but I never really came out of my shell. Most of my social contact came from a TA job and arguing with my roommates over the phone bill. (Unless you count family visits, and the time cousin Jerry showed up and convinced me to loan him my student ID so could get some dental work done at the Student Health Center while posing as me.)

So I studied. I studied what I love, which is chaos theory, fractals, power laws, and the various kinds of differential equations that helped me understand them. I breezed through my bachelor's in Mathematical Physics and was working on my Master's Thesis in Applied Mathematics, A New Heuristsic For Characterizing Iterated Maps, when the events occured that turned my life completely upside down. Or maybe I should say "backwards" instead.

ICSCI

I got a letter one day from the International Chaos and Scientific Computing Institute (ICSCI) in Albuquerque, which was offering me a "scholarship" of sorts to a conference I'd wanted to attend but couldn't afford to, the Society of Indistrial and Applied Mathematicians (SIAM) meeting on Duynamical Systems. It was where all the heavy hitters in chaos would present papers. Plus, it was in Orlando, Florida, near Wlat Diney World, and they were throwing in tickets to the EPCOT theme park. They even opffered to fly me down there in a chartered plane, but I knew I'd skip that in favor of driving. The only catch was that I had to participate in a post-conference day-lonmg meeting and agree to sign a nondisclosure agreement and have my remarks recorded. It was all very mysterious.

Senile Felines

The conference itself was a blast. Yorke was there and Feigenbaum was rumored to be. The Soviet contingent claimed prior invention of all the '70s breakthroughs back in the '30s, and bragged that this was why they could build bigger rocket boosters. An enigmatic Air Force oficer was spreading the word that DARPA was funding wavelet theory. Whenever anybody wanted to belittle someone else's work, they'd say "well, it's interesting, but it isn't chaos." One young Czech mathematician sitting next to me at lunch kept complaining about the "crazy old cats" who were the grand old men of chaos theory -- he also kept calling them "senile felines."

Oops, I'm rambling.

The conference was a blast, EPCOT was a blast, and then came the mysterious post-conference meeting.

DOD

They paid for a bunch of us to stay over at the conference hotel, the Marriott on International Drive at Sand Lake Road, and in the morning two stretch limos took us all to a nearby plant of Martin-Marrietta, an aerospace defense contractor with a huge engineering complex just a mile west on Sand Lake Road.

We were checked in through "man-trap" style security doors, past armed guards, into what they call a "Tempest" room, or "SCiF", for Secure Computing Facility. To a phycisist it is nothing but a giant Fraday Cage, which shields against all forms of radiation going in or out.

This was all explained to naive little me at the time by another attendee named Hector, who complained "they didn't tell me this was a DOD job."

"DOD?" I asked.

"Department of Defense," he explained.

Inside, we were taken to a conference room, where a table and chairs awaited us. We each had a track light shining down at our seat, where we each had a blotter, a note pad, a gold pad, a water glass, a small microphone and a name plate with our name, title and affiliation. At the end of the room was a white board and podium, and at the other end a video camera on a tripod, with camera man and separate soundman in headphones.

It turned out to be a very stellar group. All of the attendees of this secretive meeting were doing brilliant work in applied mathematics. I wondered how I got into such a crowd. I was just "Ebbe Geistsieg, B.S. Mathematical Physics, Georgia Institute of Technology." (I found out later that my advisor thought my work was brilliant, and when he was invited to attend but couldn't go he recommended me. Little did I know how this would change my life, and history.)

I wish I could remeber who all of the participants were in the meeting, because I don't know what became of the name plates, no lists were distributed, and they're all dead now, and I lot my luggage anyway. But I'm getting ahead.

At the appointed hour -- I think it was 9 AM -- the overhead recessed lights dimmed, and track lights brightened on the podium. Into the spotlight walked the Dragon Lady. (At least that's what I called her later.) She was a short, buxom blonde woman with an accent from Easter Eurpoe. That's all my country boy ears could tell. (I found out later she was born in Romania and grew up in Croatia and Poland.) She introduced herself as Roza Razor, and said she was popular scientific journalist doing a piece for Discover Magazine. Which I had a hunch nobody believed. She buttered us up for a while, talking about how we were chosen for Our "outstanding research" and our "creative yet rigorous thinking," and then got to the question: "Completely hypothetically, what would be the consequences of being able to communicate with beings in a universe which was moving backwards in time relative to ours?"

Mum

For a long time it was quiet, just a few coughs and the whir of the camcorder. "Anyone?" the woman prompted.

"Well the first thing they'd say to us is goodbye," someone quipped, and everybody chuckled.

Not necessarily," interjected an artificial life researcher from the Santa Fe Institute whose name I've forgotten. "If they'd already figured out that we were going backwards relative to them, they would say 'hello' to us as their last message to us -- also our fist message from them -- just to be polite."

Now there was open laughter.

"But of course this is ridiculous," said an older phycisist from Los Alamos. (I wish I'd remembered the names as well as their fields and affiliations!) "We don't want the lady printing this in her magazine. It's impossible, what she's asking about, mainly because it violates causality."

"Of course," someone chimed in.

The silence resumed. Again there were just a few coughs and the whir of the camcorder.

"Surely you gentlement have something else to say," the Dragon Lady prodded. "We have been very generous with you. Please be generous with your thoughts and ideas."

A person whose name I do remember, Dr. Oder from the math department of San Diego State University, said, "The most interesting information thing they could send us is what we're going to send them later. That would would ultimately allow us to send messages backwards in time.

"If you're looking for a story on backwards time travel, look at the latest research on wormholes. Morris, Thorne, and whatshisname --"

"Yurtserver -- Yertsever," provided the old physicist, correcting himself.

"Right, at Cal Tech," the mathematician went on, "have shown that a wormhole can in theory send information back in time, but of course this violates causality too, so we don't know if this is really possible. There have been some very p[ainful attempts to prove it isn't possible after all, but nothing convincing. The whole thing was covered pretty well last year by John Cramer in Analog magazine, but there's been so many new developments you could probably get a fresh look at it. Talk to Hawking, he likes being interviewed, and he has a lot to say about it."

"And Visser at Washington University, the one in Missouri," added the old phyicist. "he thinks if a wormwhole formed a path back in time, that virtual particles would form superluminal loops, using uncertainty to borrow energy from themselves, and as these loops amplified they would pinch the wormhole shut."

A bearded astronomer stuttered, "th-there's some interesting cosmology work, too, you know, on how regions of n-negative entropy gain could arise in a d-dilute expanding universe. I could get you some p-preprints."

The Dragon Lady was expasperated. "Well, thank you for this wealth of information, but I really do implore this assembly to address the question. Forget about the mechanism. Assume the conditions are a given. What would the consequences of communication between two universes, each of which is moving backwards in time relative to the other?"

"Violation of causality!" harrumphed the old phycisist.

"Right!" added the AI guy. "Grandfather paradoxes. Causal loops. Undecidability. Cats and dogs living together..."

Again laughter, and then the silence. Cough cough, whir.

As if it was her secret weapon (and later I thought maybe it was) the D.L. signaled for the caterers to come in with a cart of orange juice, cappucino, croissants, bagels, bear claws and some kind of tasty egg casserole squares. We took a break to graze.

As I waited behind the old phyicist to get my caffeine boost, he muttered to no-one in particular, "darned thing's as nutty as this bear claw."

Aha!

When we returned to our places, I noticed that Dr. Oder hadn't left his seat. He was drawing or doodling something on his pad of paper.

"Well," D.L. began, "it looks as though perhaps our Dr. Oder has something to add? Or may I call you Redonin?"

He picked up his name plate, "Dr. Redonin Oder, Department of Mathematics, San Diego Sate University," and turned it to look at, saying, "I don't know where the hell they got this info on me, my friends have always called me 'Red,' and I'm from Austin, I just work in San Diego. And I consider myself first and foremost a science fiction writer. This math thing is just my day job."

"Okay, 'Red,' you know that's what my name means, 'Roza' is 'red' in ____." She was amping up the Dragon Charm. "Do you have something to add?"

"Yes, ma'am," he chrmed right back, "I surely do."

He held up his drawing:


                 A1          A2
   universe A ---+-----------+--->>
                 |           |
            <<---+-----------+--- universe B
                 B2          B1
"Here's a little picture of two universes moving backwards in in time relative to each other. Each universe is a line. Universe A has its past on the left and its future on the right; universe B is the opposite."

>>>


Party Boobytrap

party with "area students" (dancers from Club Juana) finds out from babe in Madoinna lace blouse.

Resists going to Santa Fe, wakes up in plane, finds sleeping bag, as crashing, puts on bag, exits plane.

goldenrod-adorned log

[Reported as terrorist.]

Found by Old Joe, he leaves to ____

Nor-Tol Cyclotron

Roza shows up, tells tale, scuffle, Jowe returns and chloroforms her, upon her waking up with Scopalamine (sp?) patch she spills beans, Old Joe takes her to Yetis, Eb takes sunglasses and flycycle

Dumb mobs bomb mud

Ebbe finds cousin Jerry in Nashville, almost gets drunk with him,

So many dynamos!

goes to Fontana, w/ help of civil engineer builds long maser,

Satan oscillates my metallic sonatas

eavesdrops on messages. J jumps off dam

Is it I? It is I!

Eb uses body to fake death, back to Okefenokee.

Nurse, I spy gypsies! Run!

Throws dart at map, hits bend in Owyhee River in SE Oregon, takes I-10 W to Vegas area, thru Area 51 - jets, up to Black Rock Desert. Burning Man.

bird rib

Lives as homeless in Santa Monica,

rise to vote, sir

picked up by W Hollywood TD speed freak, dares him to prove story, calls around to CalTech, finds out abvout Stanford gal, Acc connection, gives him bus fare.

Send math to phycisist, "stlaks" as homeless w/ signs, "SOMETIMES WRITING THE WRONG GRANT PROPOSAL CAN GET YOU KILLED," gets in car w/ her and friend, Creekside Inn (B)

Daedalus: nine, Peninsulas: dead.

friend storms off to write grant proposal, dies in Treasure island car crash, TD dead in Fed Bldg break-in

Flee to me, remote elf.

go w/ physicist to dome in redwoods, living like Ewok, undergraound ex-pot farm, build long laser, golden ratio shorter, contacts underground on other side

Name no one man.

sword Excalibur

NYE 1999/2000 attacks defered.

Egad! No bondage!

back to Yeti

emit time

we broadcast



palindrome notes

name palindromes

  • Ebbe [low-tide] Geist-Sieg [mind-conquest] {German}
  • Nietstein [washout stone] {German}
  • "Pop" Grubeburg [pit castle] {German}
  • Damon A. [Asa] Nomad
  • Leo Noel

    English palindromes

  • He Be Lil' Eb, Eh?
  • LOL!
  • UFO tofu
  • Neil A. sees Alien
  • Won't lovers revolt now?
  • Oh no! Don Ho!
  • tuna nut
  • Dennis sinned.
  • Dennis and Edna sinned
  • O stone, be not so.
  • space caps
  • Senile felines
  • To Idi Amin: I'm an idiot
  • 
        Anna: Did Otto peep?
        Otto: Did Anna?
  • Mad Ana TN of Fontana Dam
  • Egad! An adage!
  • lonely Tylenol
  • If I had a Hi-Fi...
  • kayak

    foreign language palindromes

  • Neben [nearby] {German}
  • Reflexelfer [reflection elf-er?] {German}
  • mutatum [unit of change?] {Latin}
  • Si numi immunis. [Give me my fee, I warrant you free.] {Latin}
  • Es reconocer o no reconocerse. [It's to recognize or not to recognize oneself.] {Latin}
  • In girum imus nocte, et consumimur igni. [We go here and there by night, and we are burned by the fire.] {Latin}
  • Subi dura a rudibus. [endure rough treatement from uncultured brutes] {Latin}
  • A l'autel elle alla, ella le tua la. [To the altar she went, she killed him there.] {French}
  • Engage le jeu queje le gagne. [Start the game, so that I can win it.] {French}
  • ilus suli [beautiful crook] {Estonian}
  • en af dem der red med fane [one of those who rode with the flag] {Danish}
  • red [bills] {Danish}
  • edelstaalplaatslede [stainless steel tray from oven] {Dutch}
  • serres [claws] {French}
  • ado imioda [language of love] {Spanish}
  • ateo poeta [athiest poet] {Spanish}
  • sir ima miris [cheese has smell] {Croatic}
  • rosa razor [pink destruction] {Croatic}

    other notes

    Okefenokee Swamp, southern panhandle of Ware County.

    Black Rock Desert in NW Nevada

    Nor-Tol Cycoltron built in tunnel for Nor-Tol RR, Norfolf to Toldeo wide-gauge, drilled through Appalicians near VA/WV border, started in early '80s to allegedly connect container docks at Norfolk with ones in Toldeo on Lake Erie, actually for pilot sub program.

    from Prague Mini-Guide
    by Joanne Mackenzie-Winters

    Continue towards the river and you will pass the Golden Well and the Golden Serpent on the narrow street called Karlova, before reaching the huge building called the Clementinum. In an attempt to form a great Catholic seat of learning, the Jesuits spent two centuries buying land and building this massive complex. Soon after it was completed in 1773, they were forced out of the country and the Clementinum was handed over to the University.

    The original Dominican monastery expanded into a monument covering 19 hectares, on the site where 32 residential houses had stood. St. Clement's Church was rebuilt, schools and dormitories were constructed and the Italian Chapel was founded. A section with a theatre hall and the Mirror Chapel with its library hall was added, together with the observatory and the church of the Holy Saviour. As well as containing the tower where Johannes Kepler made his astronomical observations, it also houses a meteorological station which has taken uninterrupted measurements since 1775.

    The Clementinum is a remarkable artistic monument, to which many great architects of late Renaissance and the Baroque period contributed. Within its walls are the original University Library, Music Library and National Library with 6 million items and a large collection of manuscripts and first editions some dating from 1370. In the grounds of the Clementinum is the Technical Library which contains valuable documentation about technical developments of the last two hundred years.

    Before you reach the bridge over the river, you come to the Knights Square (Krizovnicke nam.) named after the Order of the Knights of the Cross with the Red Star who were the original gatekeepers of the old Judith Bridge. Their single-domed church (dedicated to Saint Francis) stands on the river bank. Over the road is St. Saviour's Church built by the Jesuits between 1578 and 1602.

    After the 19th century statue of Charles IV, comes the Old Town Bridge Tower. Designed by Peter Parler, it was the entrance gate to the Charles Bridge from the Old Town. This two-storey tower is richly embellished with architectural and heraldic decorations. A sculpture of the Emperor himself looks down from the central level of the facade, next to his son Wenceslas and in the middle St.Vitus under whose protection the bridge was given. Over the archway is a row of the carved emblems of the territories belonging to Charles' Empire. Latin palindromes designed to entrap demons can be found on the roof of the second floor.

    In his diary, the philopher Arthur Schopenhauer wrote that over the river Vltava goes "a very beautiful bridge..., on which stand many religious sculptures, a wonderful piece of work".

    The ancient Charles Bridge (Karluv most) is indeed an artistic piece of work. It is named after Charles IV (the Holy Roman Emperor and Czech King of Bohemia), who initiated its construction in 1357 to replace the originally Romanesque Judith bridge, which was battered by the onrush of the swollen river Vltava when it flooded in 1342.

    At 516 metres long and 9.5 metres wide, it was an imposing replacement. The emperor personally placed the corner stone and the young outstanding architect Peter Parler made a monumental Gothic building of it. At the beginning of the 15th century, Charles Bridge was decorated with sculptures. It gained its present appearance however in the Baroque period and became literally a gallery of sculptural art.

    For over four hundred years, the Charles Bridge was the only link between the two halves of Prague across the Vltava river which connects the city to Hamburg on the North Sea coast. Today it is the perfect place for feeding the seagulls, photographing the Castle, stocking up on arty souvenirs, taking in free entertainment from buskers, and getting your pocket picked if you're not careful.

        Ramblin' Wreck
    
        I'm a Ramblin' Wreck From Georgia Tech and a hell of an engineer.
        A helluva helluva helluva helluva helluvan engineer.
        Like all the jolly good fellows, I drink my whiskey clear,
        I'm a Ramblin' Wreck from Georgia Tech and a hell of an engineer.
        
        Oh, If I had a daughter, sir, I'd dress her in White and Gold.
        And put her on the campus to cheer the brave and bold.
        And if I had a son, sir, I'll tell you what he'd do,
        He would yell "TO HELL WITH GEORGIA" like his daddy used to do.
        
        I wish I had a barrel of rum and sugar three thousand pounds,
        A college bell to put it in, and a clapper to stir it round.
        I'd drink to all the good fellows who come from far and near,
        I'm a ramblin, gamblin' hell of an engineer, Hey!
    Last update 08-Jun-02000 by ABS.