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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.
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Might as well keep going. "JAFBG" [XGC]:
No one is perfect. Tell us one thing that your favourite person in the world does that you wish they'd just stop doing.
Can't.
From the forum rules: "Under no circumstances are we condoning bitching, whinging or ranting about fellow WDC members. That shit ain't cool. Don't do it." And the person I'd have to rant about is a WDC member and also reads this blog from time to time. Plus, there's not much to rant about there.
I'll have to settle for someone just a bit lower on the "favourite" (look, I'm keeping the Commonwealth spelling here) scale.
One of the things that bugs me the most about some people is how you make plans with them, and get all your shit together, and psych yourself up to go out into the fiery gaze of the accursed daystar and/or among other people..., and then they go, "You know, maybe another time."
Maybe it's me. Probably it's me. And look, I know that sometimes you just have to cancel. Like earlier this week, I had to cancel a bunch of hotel reservations and other plans for the rest of my trip, but dammit, I had an ironclad excuse. Though blowing me off is still better than an ex-girlfriend I had who was always late. And I mean always. Like, one time, we were twelve hours late for a flight. Twelve. Hours. She wasn't one of those people who did it as a power move, either; she just had no concept whatsoever of time.
No, she wasn't my girlfriend for very long, but we stayed friends. I just knew that I could never count on her to be anywhere on time, ever. One time (I'd married someone else by then) I even baby-sat her kid (by some other schmuck) while she went on a date. "I'll be back by ten," she told me. My mind edited that to "midnight" and planned accordingly. To her credit, she split the difference and got back around 11. By that time, her daughter (12 at the time) and I had gotten into a water balloon battle in her apartment, which pretty much guaranteed I'd never get roped into sitting again. As planned.
But I digress.
So, if, like, say, my other friend and I decide we want to go to Atlantic City (just to name a purely hypothetical, random example), I don't want it endlessly put off until later. Unless, you know, there's a pandemic going on. But absent that, fucking commit already.
Don't get me wrong; this doesn't mean that person isn't my friend, or that we won't eventually go to Atlantic City. We've been friends for a very, very long time, so he's basically a brother to me. Or at least I think so; he had actual brothers, but I didn't, so I don't really know what it's like. But doing anything with him can be like weeding a kudzu garden. To his credit, though, when he says, "hey, let's have lunch around 1," he's there before 1:00. Unlike some people who would show up around 5:30 am the next day. |
© 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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