I went to the zoo to see the baguettes…
….They’re bread in captivity.
The had a pig there, sweltering in the sun.
He was bakin’
I dan’t go the symphony anymore, these days …
… It’s all sax and violins.
Robert Buxbaum, Aug. 2, 2023 –It’s summer, what do you expect? Life’s a beach.
A catalyst walks into a bar. The bartender says, “We can’t serve you.”
The catalyst asks, “Why not?”
The bartender says, “The last time you were here, you started something.”
Robert Buxbaum, July 14, 2023 (Bastille day). If you like this, maybe you’d like another, chemistry joke or this physics joke.
There is a joke: what is the opposite of speaking?
It’s waiting to speak.
Most people find it uncomfortable to sit still and be quiet. Even listening is a pain. People sit brewing in their thoughts of what they are going to say. Silence is uncomfortable enough that solitary confinement for a few days is torture.
But what about a few minutes. Almost everyone can sit still and listen for 15 minutes as their friend drones on, especially if they are paid for it. Still, it’s uncomfortable, and a study set out to understand how uncomfortable. It turns out that a majority of men, 67% would rather give themselves electric shocks than sit and think or listen. Women, too find it unpleasant; some 25% of women preferred to give themselves electric shocks rather than sit and think. You’ll find a brief review of this and similar work copied above, or you can read the full study: Wilson et al 2014, “The challenge of the disengaged mind“.
The effect of the COVID-19 lockdowns has been massive. Those involved in government discussions don’t seem to realize how massive, perhaps because they’re in constant contact with people, speaking and being spoken too. Most of us were not so lucky. We experienced partial isolation. A recent study suggests that almost every measure of happiness disappeared during the summer months of 2020: US agreeableness, extroversion, conscientiousness, and openness all declined dramatically, see data above. Decisiveness too; a lingering effect is an inability to make decisions. My hope is that government officials can resist the temptation for more lockdowns and mandates; mental health is health too.
If lockdowns do come, or if you are depressed for any other reason, you might consider exercise, or lithium, or counseling. At least decide to wake up at a fixed time every morning. Under COVID watch conditions, depression is the new normal. Here’s a joke on marriage counseling.
Robert Buxbaum, October 27, 2021
Enjoy dinner with your family and friends, even if it’s awkward. It’s the awkwardness of your friends that makes you love them. No one really loves perfection. And enjoy your dinner. No one really likes a prig, not even God.
My cousin and his wife are coming to dinner. They’re both Bugs Bunny fans. He proposed via a WhatsApp.doc
In terms of the holiday ham; Jesus was Jewish. No ham. When doing with the disciples, he probably ordered falafel and 13 glasses of water.
Robert Buxbaum, November 2, 2020
You may know that engineers recently succeed in decreasing the tilt of the “leaning” tower of Pizza by about 1.5°, changing it from about 5.5° to about to precisely 3.98° today –high precision given that the angle varies with the season. But you may not know how that there were at least eight other engineering attempts, and most of these did nothing or made things worse. Neither is it 100% clear that current solution didn’t make things worse. What follows is my effort to learn from the failures and successes, and to speculate on the future. The original-tilted tower is something of an engineering marvel, a highly tilted, stone on stone building that has outlasted earthquakes and weathering that toppled many younger buildings that were built straight vertical, most recently the 1989 collapse of the tower of Pavia. Part of any analysis, must also speak to why this tower survived so long when others failed.
First some basics. The tower of Pisa is an 8 story bell tower for the cathedral next door. It was likely designed by engineer Bonanno Pisano who started construction in 1173. We think it’s Pisano, because he put his name on an inscription on the base, “I, who without doubt have erected this marvelous work that is above all others, am the citizen of Pisa by the name of Bonanno.” Not so humble then, more humble when the tower started to lean, I suspect. The outer diameter at the base is 15.5 m and the weight of the finished tower is 14.7 million kg, 144 million Nt. The pressure exerted on the soil is 0.76 MPa (110 psi). By basic civil engineering, it should stand straight like the walls of the cathedral.
Bonanno’s marvelous work started to sink into the soil of Pisa almost immediately, though. Then it began to tilt. The name Pisa, in Greek, means swamp, and construction, it seems, was not quite on soil, but mud. When construction began the base was likely some 2.5 m (8 feet) above sea level. While a foundation of clay, sand and sea-shells could likely have withstood the weight of the tower, the mud below could not. Pisano added length to the south columns to keep the floors somewhat level, but after three floors were complete, and the tilt continued, he stopped construction. What to do now? What would you do?
If it were me, I’d consider widening the base to distribute the force better, and perhaps add weight to the north side. Instead, Pisano gave up. He completed the third level and went to do other things. The tower stood this way for 99 years, a three-floor, non-functional stub.
About 1272, another engineer, Giovanni di Simone, was charged with fixing the situation. His was the first fix, and it sort-of worked. He strengthened the stonework of the three original floors, widened the base so it wold distribute pressure better, and buried the base too. He then added three more floors. The tower still leaned, but not as fast. De Simone made the south-side columns slightly taller than the north to hide the tilt and allow the floors to be sort-of level. A final two stories were added about 1372, and then the first of the bells. The tower looked as it does today when Gallileo did his famous experiments, dropping balls of different size from the south of the 7th floor between 1589 and 1592.
Fortunately for the construction, the world was getting colder and the water table was dropping. While dry soil is stronger than wet, wet soil is more plastic. I suspect it was the wet soil that helped the tower survive earthquakes that toppled other, straight towers. It seems that the tilt not only slowed during this period but briefly reversed, perhaps because of the shift in center of mass, or because of changes in the sea level. Shown below is 1800 years of gauge-based sea-level measurements. Other measures give different sea-level histories, but it seems clear that man-made climate change is not the primary cause. Sea levels would continue to fall till about 1750. By 1820 the tilt had resumed and had reached 4.5°.
The 2nd attempt was begun in 1838. Architect, Alessandro Della Gherardesca got permission to dig around the base at the north to show off the carvings and help right the tower. Unfortunately, the tower base had sunk below the water table. Further, it seems the dirt at the base was helping keep the tower from falling. As Della Gherardesca‘s crew dug, water came spurting out of the ground and the tower tilted another few inches south. The dig was stopped and filled in, but he dig uncovered the Pisano inscription, mentioned above. What would you do now? I might go away, and that’s what was done.
The next attempt to fix the tower (fix 3) was by that self-proclaimed engineering genius, Benito Mussolini. In 1934. Mussolini had his engineers pump some 200 tons of concrete into the south of the tower base hoping to push the tower vertical and stabilize it. The result was that the tower lurched another few inches south. The project was stopped. An engineering lesson: liquids don’t make for good foundations, even when it’s liquid concrete. An unfortunate part of the lesson is that years later engineers would try to fix the tower by pumping water beneath the north end. But that’s getting ahead of myself. Perhaps Mussolini should have made tests on a model before working on the historic tower. Ditto for the more recent version.
On March 18, 1989 the Civic Tower of Pavia started shedding bricks for no obvious reason. This was a vertical tower of the same age and approximate height as the Pisa tower. It collapsed killing four people and injuring 15. No official cause has been reported. I’m going to speculate that the cause was mechanical fatigue and crumbling of the sort that I’ve noticed on the chimney of my own house. Small vibrations of the chimney cause bits of brick to be ejected. If I don’t fix it soon, my chimney will collapse. The wet soils of Pisa may have reduced the vibration damage, or perhaps the stones of Pisa were more elastic. I’ve noticed brick and stone flaking on many prominent buildings, particularly at joins in the chimney.
In 1990, a committee of science and engineering experts was formed to decide upon a fix for the tower of Pisa. It was headed by Professor John Burland, CBE, DSc(Eng), FREng, FRS, NAE, FIC, FCGI. He was, at the time, chair of soil mechanics at the Imperial College, London, and had worked with Ove, Arup, and Partners. He had written many, well regarded articles, and had headed the geological aspects of the design of the Queen Elizabeth II conference center. He was, in a word, an expert, but this tower was different, in part because it was an, already standing, stone-on stone tower that the city wished should remain tilted. The tower was closed to visitors along with all businesses to the south. The bells were removed as well. This was a safety measure, and I don’t count it as a fix. It bought time to decide on a solution. This took two years of deliberation and meetings
In 1992, the committee agreed to fix no 4. The tower was braced with plastic-covered, steel cables that were attached around the second and third floors, with the cables running about 5° from the horizontal to anchor points several hundred meters to the north. The fix was horribly ugly, and messed with traffic. Perhaps the tilt was slowed, it was not stopped.
In 1993, fix number 5. This was the most exciting engineering solution to date: 600 tons of lead ingots were stacked around the base, and water was pumped beneath the north side. This was the reverse of the Mussolini’s failed solution, and the hope was that the tower would tilt north into the now-soggy soil. Unfortunately, the tower tilted further south. One of the columns cracked too, and this attempt was stopped. They were science experts, and it’s not clear why the solution didn’t work. My guess is that they pumped in the water too fast. This is likely the solution I would have proposed, though I hope I would have tested it with a scale model and would have pumped slower. Whatever. Another solution was proposed, this one even more exotic than the last.
For fix number 6, 1995, the team of experts, still overseen by Burland, decided to move the cables and add additional tension. The cables would run straight down from anchors in the base of the north side of the tower to ten underground steel anchors that were to be installed 40 meters below ground level. This would have been an invisible solution, but the anchor depth was well into the water table. So, to anchor the ground anchors, Burland’s team had liquid nitrogen injected into the ground beneath the tower, on the north side where the ground anchors were to go. What Burland did not seem to have realized is that water expands when it freezes, and if you freeze 40 meters of water the length change is significant. On the night of September 7, 1995, the tower lurched southwards by more than it had done in the entire previous year. The team was summoned for an emergency meeting and the liquid nitrogen anchor plan was abandoned.
Fix number 7: Another 300 tons of lead ingots were added to the north side as a temporary, simple fix. The fix seems to have worked stabilizing things while another approach was developed.
Fix number 8: In order to allow the removal of the ugly lead bricks another set of engineers were brought on, Roberto Cela and Michele Jamiolkowski. Using helical drills, they had holes drilled at an angle beneath the north side of the tower. Using hoses, they removed a gallon or two of dirt per day for eleven years. The effect of the lead and the dirt removal was to reduce the angle of the tower to 4.5°, the angle that had been measured in 1820. At this point the lead could be removed and tourists were allowed to re-enter. Even after the lead was removed, the angle continued to subside north. It’s now claimed to be 3.98°, and stable. This is remarkable precision for a curved tower whose tilt changes with the seasons. (An engineering joke: How may engineers does it take to change a lightbulb? 1.02).
The bells were replaced and all seemed good, but there was still the worry that the tower would start tilting again. Since water was clearly part of the problem, the British soils expert, Burland came up with fix number 9. He had a series of drainage tunnels built to keep the water from coming back. My worry is that this water removal will leave the tower vulnerable to earthquake and shedding damage, like with the Pavia tower and my chimney. We’ll have to wait for the next earthquake or windstorm to tell for sure. So far, this fix has done no harm.
Robert Buxbaum, October 9, 2020. It’s nice to learn from other folks mistakes, and embarrassments, as well as from their successes. It’s also nice to see how science really works, not with great experts providing the brilliant solution, but slowly, like stumbling in the dark. I see this with COVID-19.
The following is an oldish logic joke. I used it to explain a conclusion I’d come to, and I got just a blank stare and a confused giggle, so here goes:
Three logicians walk into a bar. The barman asks: “Do all of you want the daily special?” The first logician says, “I don’t know.” The second says, “I don’t know.” The third says, “yes.”
The point of the joke was that, in several situations, depending on who you ask, “I don’t know” can be a very meaningful answer. Similarly, “I’m not sure.” While I’m at it, here’s an engineering education joke, it’s based on the same logic, here applied:
A team of student engineers builds an airplane and wheel it out before the faculty. “We’ve designed this plane”, they explain, “based on the principles and methods you taught us. “We’ve checked our calculations rigorously, and we’re sure we’ve missed nothing. “Now. it would be a great honor to us if you would join us on its maiden flight.”
At this point, some of the professors turn white, and all of them provide various excuses for why they can’t go just now. But there is one exception, the dean of engineering smiles broadly, compliments the students, and says he’ll be happy to fly. He gets onboard the plane seating himself in the front of the plane, right behind the pilot. After strapping himself in, a reporter from the student paper comes along and asks why he alone is willing to take this ride; “Why you and no one else?” The engineering dean explains, “You see, son, I have an advantage over the other professors: Not only did I teach many of you, fine students, but I taught many of them as well.” “I know this plane is safe: There is no way it will leave the ground.”
Robert Buxbaum, November 2i, 2018. And one last. I used to teach at Michigan State University. They are fine students.
A friend called the other day asking about a financial matter. It seems his wife bought some pictures for pictures a few days ago for $2000, and after having them apprised, she finds they’re worth $2,000,000.
I started talking about un-realized profits, and mentioned that I never imagined that his wife had such an eye for art. He said, they’re not art pictures, exactly; they’re of you discussing business with the Russians. (It’s a joke — I thought you-all might depreciate it).
—————
When I started my business, I found that you could deduct medical costs. I called the IRS and asked if I could deduct birth control. They told me: “only if it doesn’t work.”
—————
I’m glad I learned about parallelograms in school, instead something mundane, like taxes. It’s really come in handy this parallelogram season.
—————–
I got a robo-call asking me to press “1” to hear about a government program for those who wanted to avoid paying back taxes. I did, and a voice said “Leavenworth.” It wasn’t much of a program, more of a sentence.
—————-
Robert E. Buxbaum, April 5, 2017. For jokes on other topics, click the jokes tag, here.
Girl breaking up with her boyfriend: I just need two things, more space, and time.
Atoms build physicists in an attempt to understand themselves. That’s also why physicists build physics societies and clubs.
Boyfriend: So, what’s the other thing?
Robert Buxbaum. And that, dear friend, is why science majors so rarely have normal boyfriends / girlfriends.
A female engineer friend of mine commented on the plight of dating in the department: “The odds are good, but the goods are odd.”
By the way, the solution to Einstein’s twin paradox resides in understanding that time is space. Both twins see the space ship moving at the same pace, but space shrinks for the moving twin in the space ship, not for the standing one. Thus, the moving twin finishes his (or her) journey in less time than the standing one observes.
Do you know how you go about thinking the unthinkable?
With an ithberg, of course.
Robert Buxbaum. April 12, 2016. I thought it was time for another “dad joke.” Besides, the Titanic sank on April 14th. I spend a fair about of time thinking the unthinkable. On a vaguely similar note:
After Boris died, everyone gathered at his funeral.
The minister started to speak: “He was a model husband, a decent man, a terrific father..”
The widow then makes a motion for her son to come to her.
“What is it mother?” he whispers.
“Dear, go check the casket, I think we’re at the wrong funeral…”
It’s a mistake, I think, to expect that comedy will be funny; the Devine comedy isn’t, nor are Shakespeare’s comedies. It seems, rather, that comedy is the result of mistakes, fakes, and drunks stumbling along to a (typically) unexpected outcome. That’s sometimes funny, as often not. Our expectation is that mistakes and fools will fail in whatever the try, but that’s hardly ever the outcome in literature. Or in life. As often as not, the idiot ends up as king with the intelligent man working for him. It’s as if God is a comic writer and we are his creation. Perhaps God keeps us around for our amusement value, and drops us when we get stale.
It’s not uncommon to have laughs in a comedy; a Shakespearian comedy has some, as does life. But my sense is that you find more jokes in a tragedy, e.g. Romeo and Juliet, or Julius Caesar. What makes these tragedies, as best I can tell, is the great number of honorable people behaving honorably. Unlike what Aristotle claims, tragedy doesn’t have to deal with particularly great people (Romeo and Juliet aren’t) but they must behave honorably. If Romeo were to say “Oh well, she’s dead, I’ll find another,” it would be a comedy. When the lovers choose honorable death over separation, that’s tragedy.
Dante’s hell viewed as a layer cake. The “you” label is where suicides end up; it’s from an anti-suicide blog.
Fortunately for us, in real life most people behave dishonorably most of the time, and the result is usually a happy ending. In literature and plays too, dishonorable behavior usually leads to a happy ending. In literature, I think it’s important for the happy ending to come about semi-naturally with some foreshadowing. God may protect fools, but He keeps to certain patterns, and I think a good comic writer should too. In one of my favorite musicals, the Music Man, the main character, a lovable con man is selling his non-teaching of music in an Iowa town. In the end, he escapes prison because, while the kids can’t play at all, the parents think they sound great. It’s one of the great Ah hah moments, I think. Similarly at the end of Gilbert and Sullivan’s Mikado, it’s not really surprising that the king (Mikado) commutes the death sentence of his son’s friends on the thinnest of presence: he’s the king; those are his son’s friends, and one of them has married a horrible lady who’s been a thorn in the king’s side. Of course he commutes the sentence: he’s got no honor. And everyone lives happily.
Even in the Divine Comedy (Dante), the happy ending (salvation) comes about with a degree of foreshadowing. While you meet a lot of suffering fools in hell and purgatory, it’s not totally unexpected to find some fools and sinners in heaven too. Despite the statement at the entrance of hell, “give up all hope”, you expect and find there is Devine grace. It shows up in a sudden break-out from hell, where a horde of the damned are seen to fly past those in purgatory for being too pious. And you even find foolish sinning at the highest levels of heaven. The (prepared) happy ending is what makes it a good comedy, I imagine.
There is such a thing as a bad comedy, or a tragic-comedy. I suspect that “The merchant of Venice” is not a tragedy at all, but a poorly written, bad comedy. There are fools aplenty in merchant, but too many honorable folks as well. And the happy ending is too improbable: The disguised woman lawyer wins the case. The Jew loses his money and converts, everyone marries, and the missing ships reappear, as if by magic. A tragic-comedy, like Dr Horrible’s sing along blog; is something else. There are fools and mistakes, but not totally unexpected ending is unhappy. It happens in life too, but I prefer it when God writes it otherwise.
It seems to me that the battle of Bunker Hill was one of God’s comedies, or tragic-comedies depending on which side you look. Drunken Colonials build a bad fort on the wrong hill in the middle of the night. Four top British generals agree to attack the worthless fort with their best troops just to show them, and the result is the greatest British loss of life of the Revolutionary war — plus the British in charge of the worthless spit of land. It’s comic, despite the loss of life, and despite that these are not inferior people. There is a happy ending from the American perspective, but none from the British.
I can also imagine happy tragedies: tales where honorable people battle and produce a happy result. It happens rarely in life, and the only literature example I can think of is 1776 (the musical). You see the cream of the colonies, singing, dancing, and battling with each other with honorable commitment. And the result is a happy one, at least from the American perspective.
Robert E. Buxbaum, September 17-24, 2015. I borrowed some ideas here from Nietzsche: Human, All too Human, and Birth of Tragedy, and added some ideas of my own, e.g. re; God. Nietzsche is quite good on the arts, I find, but anti-good on moral issues (That’s my own, little Nietzsche joke, and my general sense). The original Nietzsche is rather hard to read, including insights like: “A joke is an epigram on the death of a feeling.”