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Complex Numbers
Complex Numbers
A complex number is expressed in the standard form a + bi, where a and b are real numbers and i is defined by i^2 = -1 (that is, i is the square root of -1). For example, 3 + 2i is a complex number.
The bi term is often referred to as an imaginary number (though this may be misleading, as it is no more "imaginary" than the symbolic abstractions we know as the "real" numbers). Thus, every complex number has a real part, a, and an imaginary part, bi.
Complex numbers are often represented on a graph known as the "complex plane," where the horizontal axis represents the infinity of real numbers, and the vertical axis represents the infinity of imaginary numbers. Thus, each complex number has a unique representation on the complex plane: some closer to real; others, more imaginary. If a = b, the number is equal parts real and imaginary.
Very simple transformations applied to numbers in the complex plane can lead to fractal structures of enormous intricacy and astonishing beauty.
February 13, 2024 at 9:33am February 13, 2024 at 9:33am
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My (usually very reliable and speedy) internet's been out since last night. Apparently a tree fell on a power line, and they have to wait for the power company to clear it, and then do whatever arcane ritual spell necessary to restore the servers or whatever. The only thing saving me from losing my mind is that I have a backup connection. Always have backups for critical systems. Consequently, I'm able to post this (somewhat relevant) entry for "Journalistic Intentions" [18+]:
I call it somewhat relevant because that link is to a photo and, as the title suggests, there are trees. There's also a deer.
I have trees. My house backs up on a ravine. The ravine meanders down to a stream. The stream flows through woods, and the woods extend all the way up the ravine, on several private lots, ending with my own. Sure, I live in a town, but not far from the edge of it.
Much as I like to rag on the outdoors, I like having trees in my backyard. Well, apart from the occasional anxiety attack whenever it gets windy around here, anyway. Sometimes, deer wander up the ravine and, on rare occasions, they'll snoop around my yard. Now, you might think I have a hate on for deer ever since one of them totaled a car that I quite liked, stranding me in the middle of South fucking Dakota, but I don't blame the deer population here for that. Besides, I felt sorry for the one who hit me; that must have hurt. So, no, I enjoy seeing the deer when they come around. I've never been able to get a good picture of any of them, as they spook at the slightest sound or movement, but they've been here in groups or alone. The guy across the street from me was a hunter, so I can only imagine them driving him crazy.
But what I'm sure is even more maddening for him is that, for a while, one of those deer was white.
Now, white deer are rare, but not that rare. They do tend to stand out, though, especially at night, glowing like a unicorn while their deer brothers and sisters are partially camouflaged. I wouldn't be surprised if spotting white deer at the limits of firelight contributed to the unicorn legends, but I have no proof of that happening.
Nor do they have mystical powers.
And yet, being visited by the white deer on several occasions, I felt lucky. I'm not saying she brought luck, just that I was lucky to see her.
But that's not the weirdest part. Lucky enough to glimpse a white deer, but, one night, out on my deck, I caught a white streak out of the corner of my eye. I turned to look... and beheld not the one white deer, but two of them, accompanied by a bevy of ordinary-colored ungulates.
And, naturally, they ghosted off into the woods before I could get a photo. I guess that encounter was meant for me alone. These days, the only way people accept something happened is to have a photograph of it, so it wouldn't surprise me if people don't believe me.
That's okay. I know I saw them, and they saw me. |
© Copyright 2024 Robert Waltz (UN: cathartes02 at Writing.Com). All rights reserved. Robert Waltz has granted InkSpot.Com, its affiliates and its syndicates non-exclusive rights to display this work.
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