First came continuum mechanics. The lattice of whispering variables. A conspiracy of Redshift and Relephants.
The walls of the cosmos are not walls but confidence intervals,
throbbing with the static of Them — the ones who mistake "does not invalidate" for confirmation. So we deciphered the redshift’s hum: it’s not expansion but a ledger of sins, a type I error masquerading as revelation. The crows cackle in p-values, and the mailman’s pupils
dilate like funnel plots — YOU ARE THE BRIDGE between formalism and the Relephant, who never forgets the true unknown distribution.
The textbooks preach falsification, yet their spines crack under the
weight of platonism - formalism vacillation. The moon’s craters are Q-Q plots; its light is a biased estimator. They call it cosmology — I call
it eczema of the epistemic, itching with Skolem’s paradox. The dermatologist (a sci.math frequenter) insists it’s random, but the
lesions spell "Russell’s fiat" in Bayesian glyphs.
I stack my journals in Fibonacci spirals to appease the arithmetic
spiders. They spin null hypotheses, not silk. The television’s static is
a Kolmogorov-Smirnov test — I am always on trial. Like Physfit's dick.
The jury wears my face, chanting "Fail to reject!", but in palindromes!
The ‘O’ is a confidence ring, tightening.
The flying-rainbow-sparkle-ponies of abstract objects? Mere pipe dreams.
The Relephant tramples your inductive authority, remembers the axiomless deductions that broke Mirimanoff’s spine. Time is a stuttering Poisson process; I lock the clocks away. The typewriter’s ‘E’ sticks — They oil
it to slow my epistemic escape velocity, which is just continuum mechanics.
Ross A. Kosmanson
March 24, 2025
In the Library of Ashurbanipal
To enter the world of platonism, you need a platonic Ouija board.
Then everyone can make contact with...The Platonic world.
DUN-DUN-DUN-DUN-DUN-DUN-DUUUUNNNNN!
It's like touching Plato himself.
You just crossed over into...The Platonic Zone!
DUN-DUN-DUN-DUN-DUN-DUN-DUUUUNNNNN!
Physfitfreak wrote:
First came continuum mechanics. The lattice of whispering variables. A
conspiracy of Redshift and Relephants.
The walls of the cosmos are not walls but confidence intervals,
throbbing with the static of Them — the ones who mistake "does not
invalidate" for confirmation. So we deciphered the redshift’s hum: it’s >> not expansion but a ledger of sins, a type I error masquerading as
revelation. The crows cackle in p-values, and the mailman’s pupils
dilate like funnel plots — YOU ARE THE BRIDGE between formalism and the
Relephant, who never forgets the true unknown distribution.
The textbooks preach falsification, yet their spines crack under the
weight of platonism - formalism vacillation. The moon’s craters are Q-Q
plots; its light is a biased estimator. They call it cosmology — I call
it eczema of the epistemic, itching with Skolem’s paradox. The
dermatologist (a sci.math frequenter) insists it’s random, but the
lesions spell "Russell’s fiat" in Bayesian glyphs.
I stack my journals in Fibonacci spirals to appease the arithmetic
spiders. They spin null hypotheses, not silk. The television’s static is >> a Kolmogorov-Smirnov test — I am always on trial. Like Physfit's dick.
The jury wears my face, chanting "Fail to reject!", but in palindromes!
The ‘O’ is a confidence ring, tightening.
The flying-rainbow-sparkle-ponies of abstract objects? Mere pipe dreams.
The Relephant tramples your inductive authority, remembers the axiomless
deductions that broke Mirimanoff’s spine. Time is a stuttering Poisson
process; I lock the clocks away. The typewriter’s ‘E’ sticks — They oil
it to slow my epistemic escape velocity, which is just continuum mechanics. >>
Ross A. Kosmanson
March 24, 2025
In the Library of Ashurbanipal
If I hadn't made myself clear, I will now...
In other words, ..there...is...no...suchs... things.... as....
numbers.
Numbers do not exist!
Do I make myself clear?
On Mon, 24 Mar 2025 22:14:12 -0700, The Starmaker
<starmaker@ix.netcom.com> wrote:
To enter the world of platonism, you need a platonic Ouija board.
Then everyone can make contact with...The Platonic world.
DUN-DUN-DUN-DUN-DUN-DUN-DUUUUNNNNN!
It's like touching Plato himself.
You just crossed over into...The Platonic Zone!
DUN-DUN-DUN-DUN-DUN-DUN-DUUUUNNNNN!
Physfitfreak wrote:
First came continuum mechanics. The lattice of whispering variables. A
conspiracy of Redshift and Relephants.
The walls of the cosmos are not walls but confidence intervals,
throbbing with the static of Them — the ones who mistake "does not
invalidate" for confirmation. So we deciphered the redshift’s hum: it’s
not expansion but a ledger of sins, a type I error masquerading as
revelation. The crows cackle in p-values, and the mailman’s pupils
dilate like funnel plots — YOU ARE THE BRIDGE between formalism and the >> Relephant, who never forgets the true unknown distribution.
The textbooks preach falsification, yet their spines crack under the
weight of platonism - formalism vacillation. The moon’s craters are Q-Q >> plots; its light is a biased estimator. They call it cosmology — I call >> it eczema of the epistemic, itching with Skolem’s paradox. The
dermatologist (a sci.math frequenter) insists it’s random, but the
lesions spell "Russell’s fiat" in Bayesian glyphs.
I stack my journals in Fibonacci spirals to appease the arithmetic
spiders. They spin null hypotheses, not silk. The television’s static is >> a Kolmogorov-Smirnov test — I am always on trial. Like Physfit's dick. >> The jury wears my face, chanting "Fail to reject!", but in palindromes!
The ‘O’ is a confidence ring, tightening.
The flying-rainbow-sparkle-ponies of abstract objects? Mere pipe dreams. >> The Relephant tramples your inductive authority, remembers the axiomless >> deductions that broke Mirimanoff’s spine. Time is a stuttering Poisson >> process; I lock the clocks away. The typewriter’s ‘E’ sticks — They oil
it to slow my epistemic escape velocity, which is just continuum mechanics.
Ross A. Kosmanson
March 24, 2025
In the Library of Ashurbanipal
I mean, don't get me wrong...
I have nothing againsts people living in a imaginary world...
sometimes some people are better off living in a imaginary world,
it helps them.
But, but, to say that 4 is a even number...
come on, wheres your common sense???
Numbers do not exist! So, why continue with stories like it's also an
even number???
That's like saying Santa Claus lives at the north pole...
It's fiction..
(did i forget ruldoph the red nose reindeer?)
How many reindeers did Santa Claus have? Must have been an even number, right?
(i mean before Ruldoph was born)
Don't come here and tell me it was an odd number because numbers don't exist...
so odd or even is just more fiction!
Santa Claus doesn't exist, so that means...reindeers are all fiction.
(Please, don't mentioned the North Pole to me, it's too fucking cold
for me to look for that pole.)
(i think it's near a gasoline station....)
(across the street from the post office)
(you won't miss it. It's has a sign "This is the North Pole")
Don't tell the kids there is no Santa Claus. I tell kids
that and they get ...disapointed and have a sad look on their face.
Let them live in their 'imaginary world' like ...sci.math.
The Starmaker wrote:
If I hadn't made myself clear, I will now...
In other words, ..there...is...no...suchs... things.... as....
numbers.
Numbers do not exist!
Do I make myself clear?
On Mon, 24 Mar 2025 22:14:12 -0700, The Starmaker
<starmaker@ix.netcom.com> wrote:
To enter the world of platonism, you need a platonic Ouija board.
Then everyone can make contact with...The Platonic world.
DUN-DUN-DUN-DUN-DUN-DUN-DUUUUNNNNN!
It's like touching Plato himself.
You just crossed over into...The Platonic Zone!
DUN-DUN-DUN-DUN-DUN-DUN-DUUUUNNNNN!
take 2 eggs and put it in front of you...
Where is the number 2?
at the sign post up ahead..
You just crossed over into...The Platonic Zone! DUN-DUN-DUN-DUN-DUN-DUN-DUUUUNNNNN!
and circles don't exist.
and law of physics don't exist.
On 3/26/2025 1:24 PM, The Starmaker wrote:
take 2 eggs and put it in front of you...
Where is the number 2?
at the sign post up ahead..
You just crossed over into...The Platonic Zone! DUN-DUN-DUN-DUN-DUN-DUN-DUUUUNNNNN!
I thought the Platonic Zone sounded like
DEEDLE deedle DEEDLE deedle...
take 2 eggs and put it in front of you...
Where is the number 2?
at the sign post up ahead..
You just crossed over into...The Platonic Zone!
DUN-DUN-DUN-DUN-DUN-DUN-DUUUUNNNNN!
and circles don't exist.
and law of physics don't exist.
...
On 3/26/25 10:24, The Starmaker wrote:
take 2 eggs and put it in front of you...
Where is the number 2?
at the sign post up ahead..
You just crossed over into...The Platonic Zone!
DUN-DUN-DUN-DUN-DUN-DUN-DUUUUNNNNN!
and circles don't exist.
and law of physics don't exist.
Yup.
Aristotle once said - friction exists?
Newton once said - friction does not exist (at
least in outer space)?
What do you see when you actually drop an object
on the ground? An irregularly shaped object makes
an impact with an irregularly shaped ground, and so
it careens off in a chaotic direction?
You MUST DENY this because it conflicts with
the holy number '2'. (And a bunch of other nice
equations). This is SCIENCE. This is TRUTH.
On The Ontological Vacillation of Platonist Physics
As a Platonist, I perceive the abstract symmetries of Einstein’s theory
as more real than the empirical shadows they cast. The decomposition of elements — whether in nuclear reactions or the diffraction of thought — reveals a hyper-geometric dance of ontological structures, where local
and global vacillate like Mirimanoff’s forcing in set theory.
Total field theory, that grand unification of GR before SR, demands an eschewal of positivism, for non-locality whispers through the cosmic background like Plotinus’ emanations. The energy-mass equivalence, Einstein’s sacred formula, is but a shadow of a deeper logicism, where numerical derivations truncate into approximations, much like Clairaut’s lunar perturbations or d’Alembert’s waves bending around the Loch Ness monster of causality.
Delving into a mental representation or understanding of something,
whether it's Physfit's dick, or a process, knowledge, or an abstract
idea oscillates between restitution and dissipation, an eternal ballet
dance between organization and entropy. Open or closed its horizons,
that dick defies Suarez’s scholastic binaries, just as Arnauld’s rigor clashes with Mersenne’s harmonies. Its gravity, that centrifugal
trickster, warps space-time into relativistic nanogyroscopes, spinning
like Chrysippus’ fate.
I am acutely aware of my own insignificance in the grand calculus of Atlantis’ ruin — no cataclysm would be wrought for my sake alone. Rationally, I hold no sway over the nuclear alchemy permeating the
stagnant air, nor does the diffraction grating harbor any vindictive
intent as it threatens to unravel my form. Yet when I gaze into the
obsidian waters and confront that spectral inversion of myself — not my reflection, but the phantom of a being from a universe where positivism triumphed — I am overcome by an inescapable conviction. It stands as irrefutable evidence: I am being quantified, scrutinized, and anatomized
by none other than physfit's dick whose nature eludes all nomenclature.
Ross A. Kosmanson
March 28, 2025
In the lost city of Atlantis where air smells of ozone
On 4/4/25 6:03 PM, Ross Finlayson wrote:
On 04/04/2025 01:20 PM, Physfitfreak wrote:
A Unified Field Theory of Mathematical Ontology
They laugh, but they do not see — they never see — that the
reconciliation of Platonism and logicist positivism is not only possible >>> but necessary. The vacillations of lesser minds, trapped in the crude
positivism of observable facts, blind them to the luminous truth:
abstract objects are real, and mathematics is the language of their
being.
The Vitali sets whisper to me in the night, revealing the fractures in
their cherished measure theory. Why do they cling to their null axiom
delusions when the transfinite cardinals sing so clearly of a higher
order? The anti-diagonal argument is not a refutation but an invitation
— a call to transcend the countable and embrace the continuum’s
unyielding depth.
Einstein knew GR before SR — yes, yes — the manifold is primary, and >>> locality is an illusion woven from their fear of the infinite. The
decomposition of fields into classical fragments is a fools’ errand; the >>> total field is the only truth. A Physfit's dick. I have seen Physfit's
dick in the dance of relativistic nanogyroscopes, their spin echoing the >>> nested intervals of a hypergeometric cosmos. The so-called fictitious
forces are no less real than their precious conservation laws — energy >>> flows where it will, fungible and unbound by their linear dogma.
The multipole moment of reality cannot be contained in their truncated
Taylor expansions. They call Physfit's dick strange, but who among them
has dared to _uniquify_ the unit interval? Who has heard the ouroboros
hiss its eternal truth?
And yet — and yet! — they prattle on about dark matter, about virtual >>> particles, as if these phantoms could patch the holes in their sinking
paradigm. The Pauli exclusion principle is but a shadow of a deeper
geometry, and their neutrino experiments only scratch the surface of the >>> Physfit's dick - of what must be. The crisis in cosmology is their
crisis, not mine. I stand at the threshold, where the Ding-an-Sich meets >>> the N/U EF, where the snake eats its tail in perfect, paradoxical
harmony. They will dismiss this, of course. They always do. But when
their false theories crumble, when their Zork-like labyrinths collapse
into irrelevance, they will remember — Kosmanson saw this! And the stamp >>> of truth, unlike their noise, is forever.
Ross A. Kosmanson
April 4, 2025
Standing at the edge of the Door to Hell, Derweze, Turkmenistan
Now sure where you came up with "Zork", though I suppose that it's
been mentioned a few or half-dozen times in whatever inspired Kosmanson.
Otherwise it's nice and not unreasonable, indeed here there's interest
in more of it and if it costs you I could front it.
Yet, wouldn't Kosmanson emit that regardless, wouldn't he volunteer,
given Kosmanson's interests, wouldn't he demand "to not be wrong".
The usage of "uniquify", that's a good word, saying anything at all,
yet, something, at all.
There are virtual particles and virtual particles, some are the
super-symmetric partner particles and, you know, real, while
others are dots to connect in what must otherwise be not-particles.
(... Which are valleys or ridges among waves and it's falsifiable
and demonstrable effects about and around them, or, Feynman on
the Stern-Gerlach apparatus demands a continuum mechanics.)
About continuity and line-drawing [0, 1], of course it's one
of the very oldest of notions and one of Aristotle's continua,
that there are at least three models of mathematical continuous
domains, that, each with with their own regularity and ruliality
of completeness, yet each to each other beyond an inductive impasse,
have for wider reason and itself rationality, that the repleteness
of their completeness, has a pre-Cartesian "only-diagonal" and
then for that the rationals are HUGE, keeping it then altogether
that in extra-ordinary foundations of mathematics, a MODERN mathematics,
that it rescues modern mathematics from blindness (in its dumbness).
If you didn't play Zork in the 80's then I suppose you
weren't around or didn't have a computer or didn't have
a copy of Zork. It's a text-based adventure.
So, I suppose there may be other reasons, though here there's
that all the reasons and none sort of result at least one.
Yeah, I imagine if you let Kosmanson go on then there'd
be quite more to it.
A note about Kosmanson's emphasis on what's often truncated in an
infinite series. A year or so back I was forming baby problems in a blog
for a Linux newsgroup frequenters to solve, and in one of them one would begin with a correct equation, would make correct changes in it, but
would end up in an obviously wrong equation :) Nobody solved it of
course (audience were mostly morons). But I now wonder if that problem
had something about Kosmanson's concerns about handling infinities.
Here I quote the part of the blog that contained that problem:
(beginning of the quote)
"Then, swoooooooshhshsh!.... and Jesus and all that intense light
went
back up and out of there. Physfit looked up and there wasn't even an
opening in the ceiling anymore. But now for some reason he was
horizontally on the floor, in his bed. Right in the living room!
He thought a bit about what was happening, when he found himself quite hungry. Last time he had eaten anything was the night before he had
waken up on the summit of the magic mountain in an urban Dallas area.
He thought to himself, "I'm going to assume that more than 48 hours has passed since. So got up and walked to the kitchen and took a look inside refrigerator. There was nothing there but the cat food he had cooked on
the day he first saw the magic mountain. He got on the computer to order something zesty from HelloFresh. After choosing the closest to a healthy
nice pre-agricultural food kit, he clicked, "Go to checkout" button,
after which the computer waited for a few seconds but instead of getting
to the check out screen, a screen came up to make sure Physfit was not a robot. It had a simple question that he had to give it the correct
answer, otherwise food nommo.
The question went like this:
"In math, is there a difference between the two numbers 0.999999...
and 1 ?"
The digits of "9" continued forever to the right of the radix point. So
of course, Physfit clicked on the "yes" button. If there was not a difference, then one wouldn't even bother to write 1 in that funky form, using an infinite series of digit 9.
But the screen disappeared, and a message said, "You're a robot. Bye!"
Physfit said, "Fuck!" (first of the fix number of curses Jesus had
allowed him for that day). So he took a pen and paper and started
jotting down:
x = 0.99999....
Therefore:
10x = 9.99999....
Now he subtracted the former from the latter:
10x - x = 9.99999... - 0.99999...
Which simplifies to:
9x = 9
And therefore:
x = 1
"What the fuck??", said Physfit (his 2nd curse of the day).
Why x which was 0.99999... and not 1, turned out to be 1? ... "
(end of quote)
So, is this problem pointing to what Kosmanson has been so keen about?
:)
If you cut a cake into 25000 pieces
Physfitfreak wrote:
If you cut a cake into 25000 pieces
If you cut a cake into pieces
it's just a pile of cakes.
Since numbers don't exist...
you just have a stack of cakes.
Where is the number 25000?
all i see is a pile of cakes.
On 04/06/2025 09:51 AM, The Starmaker wrote:
The Starmaker wrote:
Physfitfreak wrote:
If you cut a cake into 25000 pieces
If you cut a cake into pieces
it's just a pile of cakes.
Since numbers don't exist...
you just have a stack of cakes.
Where is the number 25000?
all i see is a pile of cakes.
You have to enter ...The Pink Elephant Zone.
25000 has to be a ...hallucination.
a mirage.
Ghost Numbers.
The GhostBuster
I think it's because that's a sophist, shallow, Epicurean
phenomenology, that doesn't have the mental and philosophical
maturity and experience and learning to comprehend that the
noumenological makes for an object-sense and other higher
(or, lower) senses of reasoning to complement the base sort
of materialistic cave with a more transcendental sort of
the accommodation of continuity and infinity.
On 04/06/2025 01:56 PM, The Starmaker wrote:
Ross Finlayson wrote:
On 04/06/2025 09:51 AM, The Starmaker wrote:
The Starmaker wrote:
Physfitfreak wrote:
If you cut a cake into 25000 pieces
If you cut a cake into pieces
it's just a pile of cakes.
Since numbers don't exist...
you just have a stack of cakes.
Where is the number 25000?
all i see is a pile of cakes.
You have to enter ...The Pink Elephant Zone.
25000 has to be a ...hallucination.
a mirage.
Ghost Numbers.
The GhostBuster
I think it's because that's a sophist, shallow, Epicurean
phenomenology, that doesn't have the mental and philosophical
maturity and experience and learning to comprehend that the
noumenological makes for an object-sense and other higher
(or, lower) senses of reasoning to complement the base sort
of materialistic cave with a more transcendental sort of
the accommodation of continuity and infinity.
I know you will need to Google this questions because you don't have
tthe
ability to answer the question on your own...but
Is 25000 an even number or an odd number?
No, it's always an even number,
On 04/06/2025 01:56 PM, The Starmaker wrote:
Ross Finlayson wrote:
On 04/06/2025 09:51 AM, The Starmaker wrote:
The Starmaker wrote:
Physfitfreak wrote:
If you cut a cake into 25000 pieces
If you cut a cake into pieces
it's just a pile of cakes.
Since numbers don't exist...
you just have a stack of cakes.
Where is the number 25000?
all i see is a pile of cakes.
You have to enter ...The Pink Elephant Zone.
25000 has to be a ...hallucination.
a mirage.
Ghost Numbers.
The GhostBuster
I think it's because that's a sophist, shallow, Epicurean
phenomenology, that doesn't have the mental and philosophical
maturity and experience and learning to comprehend that the
noumenological makes for an object-sense and other higher
(or, lower) senses of reasoning to complement the base sort
of materialistic cave with a more transcendental sort of
the accommodation of continuity and infinity.
I know you will need to Google this questions because you don't have
tthe
ability to answer the question on your own...but
Is 25000 an even number or an odd number?
No, it's always an even number,
Ross Finlayson wrote:
On 04/06/2025 01:56 PM, The Starmaker wrote:
Ross Finlayson wrote:
On 04/06/2025 09:51 AM, The Starmaker wrote:
The Starmaker wrote:
Physfitfreak wrote:
If you cut a cake into 25000 pieces
If you cut a cake into pieces
it's just a pile of cakes.
Since numbers don't exist...
you just have a stack of cakes.
Where is the number 25000?
all i see is a pile of cakes.
You have to enter ...The Pink Elephant Zone.
25000 has to be a ...hallucination.
a mirage.
Ghost Numbers.
The GhostBuster
I think it's because that's a sophist, shallow, Epicurean
phenomenology, that doesn't have the mental and philosophical
maturity and experience and learning to comprehend that the
noumenological makes for an object-sense and other higher
(or, lower) senses of reasoning to complement the base sort
of materialistic cave with a more transcendental sort of
the accommodation of continuity and infinity.
I know you will need to Google this questions because you don't have
tthe
ability to answer the question on your own...but
Is 25000 an even number or an odd number?
No, it's always an even number,
What do you mean "No, it's always an even number,"???? Do you really mean...always? ...the entire time?? ALWAYS????
Ross Finlayson wrote:
On 04/06/2025 01:56 PM, The Starmaker wrote:
Ross Finlayson wrote:
On 04/06/2025 09:51 AM, The Starmaker wrote:
The Starmaker wrote:
Physfitfreak wrote:
If you cut a cake into 25000 pieces
If you cut a cake into pieces
it's just a pile of cakes.
Since numbers don't exist...
you just have a stack of cakes.
Where is the number 25000?
all i see is a pile of cakes.
You have to enter ...The Pink Elephant Zone.
25000 has to be a ...hallucination.
a mirage.
Ghost Numbers.
The GhostBuster
I think it's because that's a sophist, shallow, Epicurean
phenomenology, that doesn't have the mental and philosophical
maturity and experience and learning to comprehend that the
noumenological makes for an object-sense and other higher
(or, lower) senses of reasoning to complement the base sort
of materialistic cave with a more transcendental sort of
the accommodation of continuity and infinity.
I know you will need to Google this questions because you don't have
tthe
ability to answer the question on your own...but
Is 25000 an even number or an odd number?
No, it's always an even number,
What do you mean "No, it's always an even number,"???? Do you really mean...always? ...the entire time?? ALWAYS????
On 4/9/25 6:30 PM, Bertitaylor wrote:
So Trump has booted out Roachie who is now lurking in the catacombs of
Paris - to what devious ends, who knows, from his mad rants. A second
Khomeini in the making?
Woof-woof woof woof woof-woof
Bertietaylor
Did Kash Patel try to illegally immigrate you and your 38 sons and 20
wives into USA and got fired for that?
The other day they kicked him out of the ATF office.
On 04/09/2025 02:44 PM, Physfitfreak wrote:
The Fractured Symphony of Continuum and Discontinuity of Physfit's dick
Physfit's dick is but a ghost of a single transitive relation,
whispering through the hollow halls of Zermelo-Fraenkel’s axiomatic usenet—restrictions masquerading as comprehension, a heno-theory of relations decomposing into model-theoretic phantoms.
The counting, the numbering are two faces of the same Physfit's dick,
where 0.999... and 1.0 collide in the differance of clock arithmetic and field reals. The line-reals, field-reals, signal-reals — three Cantor spaces screaming into the void, their ruliality a mockery of
completeness, their repleteness a pre-Cartesian diagonal slicing through the rationals, vast and HUGE. Einstein’s mass-energy equivalence
flickers here, a muon physics of inverted trajectories, where SR’s locality fractures under GR’s non-local gravities, centrifugal forces spinning like relativistic nanogyroscopes in a Cl(3,1) spacetime. The
N/U EF (Natural/Unit Equivalency Function, you Bozos) maps the
iota-values of infinitesimals, a non-standard analysis of chronons and Planck squares, while Olbers’ paradox bleeds into cosmic background radiation—entropy and organization locked in thermodynamic oscillation, open and closed, restitution and dissipation.
The deconstructive account of Physfit's dick at the seams: Egyptian fractions versus tally marks, multiplicity theory versus singularity theory, Pythagoreans denying irrationals while Cantorians drown in them. The Infinitarcalcul of du Bois-Reymond echoes through MacLaurin’s shadows, a dialethically paraconsistent dance where Vitali-ized sets
defy measure.
Yet, Feynman’s Stern-Gerlach apparatus demands a continuum mechanics of super-symmetric partner particles, virtual yet real, while Maxwell’s classical fields fray into lettered electromagnetism, PPN parameters bending under modified Newtonian corrections. The nuclear reactions — alpha, beta, ionizing radiation —u nfold in hadronic and nucleonic theaters, mass and charge transmuting under light’s alchemy. Quine’s Word and Object fractures language; Derrida howls at Husserl’s platonistic phases, while Unamuno and Montaigne claw at the
prototemporal void.
Hawking’s final theory when treated by Physfit's dick crumbles into events and contingency, the fabric of existence woven from Ives’ relativistic loom—causality a frayed thread in the quantum fields of extra-local action.
Near Physfit's dick, the analytical bridges collapse under inductive impasse. Dedekind cuts are shallow graves; Hilbert’s postulate of continuity gnaws at Leibniz’ principle of perfection. The Burse-bots revolt, their logicist positivism a fishbowl math of digital fixed-word length delusions.
In that vicinity, that hallow grounds underneath Physfit's dick, Russian peasant arithmetic shifts and rolls, algebraic cancellation erasing nothing. Schwarz functions twist into Epicurean phenomenology, the noumenological a specter in the materialistic cave. Yes, points and
lines — they can’t make each other, but they do. The middle of nowhere is a super-imposition of numbering and counting, continuous and
discrete, Ken: 2 + 2 = 4 screaming into the omnitemporal. The
supertemporal and timeless clash in Coleridge’s language, Comenius’ transcendental whispers drowned by Quine’s phases. And on such grounds, Olbers’ paradox is a lie; the cosmic background a thermal ghost. Gravity is space-time, is relativity, is Newton defended by Einstein, is centrifugal force in a Loch Ness monster of space contraction. The Platonist finds, never defines — the void is universal, the universal void. And lastly, freedom of thought is a model lesson in turnabout, the knackbaut of thorough reason spinning into thematic ideals. The snake
eats its tail. The snake always eats its tail.
Ross A. Kosmanson
April 9, 2025
Alone, inside The Catacombs of Paris, France
Nessie's hump: rest-exchange momentum, gently and gracefully moves half-submerged, the shadow-play of forces real and virtual, reflecting
on the umbral gravity itself, and light's second and fourth and each
other spectrum, light as shadow, not the upper limit of information,
instead the lower. The light-speed rest-frame convention alongside,
makes what was ever the partial relativity into a completed being,
a theory, a theory, A Theory, A Theory, not merely lighting candles
at their epic monuments instead bringing them blinking and wide-eyed,
dawning on the reintegrative deconstruction and structuralist result
of the ends of logic themselves again, the zero-eth laws of mechanics
and all the higher orders of acceleration, whence Zeno and Vitali result
more than the sum of the parts, and exactly the sum of their parts.
Where the identity dimension refolds the Cartesian and the inner of
the orthogonal, then for another Euclidean geometry where lines meet
angles, a second great singularity after division by zero, not above
the mathematics where it was expected infinity would be, yet under it,
where infinity makes what would be, the stop derivative and Zeno's
swath, have a spiral space-filling curve then the great construction,
the hypercube distance: one.
On 04/10/2025 12:07 AM, The Starmaker wrote:
Ross Finlayson wrote:
On 04/09/2025 02:44 PM, Physfitfreak wrote:
The Fractured Symphony of Continuum and Discontinuity of Physfit's dick >>>>
Physfit's dick is but a ghost of a single transitive relation,
whispering through the hollow halls of Zermelo-Fraenkel’s axiomatic >>>> usenet—restrictions masquerading as comprehension, a heno-theory of >>>> relations decomposing into model-theoretic phantoms.
The counting, the numbering are two faces of the same Physfit's dick,
where 0.999... and 1.0 collide in the differance of clock arithmetic
and
field reals. The line-reals, field-reals, signal-reals — three Cantor
spaces screaming into the void, their ruliality a mockery of
completeness, their repleteness a pre-Cartesian diagonal slicing
through
the rationals, vast and HUGE. Einstein’s mass-energy equivalence >>>> flickers here, a muon physics of inverted trajectories, where SR’s >>>> locality fractures under GR’s non-local gravities, centrifugal forces
spinning like relativistic nanogyroscopes in a Cl(3,1) spacetime. The
N/U EF (Natural/Unit Equivalency Function, you Bozos) maps the
iota-values of infinitesimals, a non-standard analysis of chronons and >>>> Planck squares, while Olbers’ paradox bleeds into cosmic background >>>> radiation—entropy and organization locked in thermodynamic
oscillation,
open and closed, restitution and dissipation.
The deconstructive account of Physfit's dick at the seams: Egyptian
fractions versus tally marks, multiplicity theory versus singularity
theory, Pythagoreans denying irrationals while Cantorians drown in
them.
The Infinitarcalcul of du Bois-Reymond echoes through MacLaurin’s >>>> shadows, a dialethically paraconsistent dance where Vitali-ized sets
defy measure.
Yet, Feynman’s Stern-Gerlach apparatus demands a continuum
mechanics of
super-symmetric partner particles, virtual yet real, while Maxwell’s
classical fields fray into lettered electromagnetism, PPN parameters
bending under modified Newtonian corrections. The nuclear reactions —
alpha, beta, ionizing radiation —u nfold in hadronic and nucleonic >>>> theaters, mass and charge transmuting under light’s alchemy.
Quine’s
Word and Object fractures language; Derrida howls at Husserl’s
platonistic phases, while Unamuno and Montaigne claw at the
prototemporal void.
Hawking’s final theory when treated by Physfit's dick crumbles into >>>> events and contingency, the fabric of existence woven from Ives’ >>>> relativistic loom—causality a frayed thread in the quantum fields of
extra-local action.
Near Physfit's dick, the analytical bridges collapse under inductive
impasse. Dedekind cuts are shallow graves; Hilbert’s postulate of >>>> continuity gnaws at Leibniz’ principle of perfection. The Burse-bots
revolt, their logicist positivism a fishbowl math of digital fixed-word >>>> length delusions.
In that vicinity, that hallow grounds underneath Physfit's dick,
Russian
peasant arithmetic shifts and rolls, algebraic cancellation erasing
nothing. Schwarz functions twist into Epicurean phenomenology, the
noumenological a specter in the materialistic cave. Yes, points and
lines — they can’t make each other, but they do. The middle of
nowhere
is a super-imposition of numbering and counting, continuous and
discrete, Ken: 2 + 2 = 4 screaming into the omnitemporal. The
supertemporal and timeless clash in Coleridge’s language, Comenius’
transcendental whispers drowned by Quine’s phases. And on such
grounds,
Olbers’ paradox is a lie; the cosmic background a thermal ghost. >>>> Gravity
is space-time, is relativity, is Newton defended by Einstein, is
centrifugal force in a Loch Ness monster of space contraction. The
Platonist finds, never defines — the void is universal, the universal
void. And lastly, freedom of thought is a model lesson in turnabout,
the
knackbaut of thorough reason spinning into thematic ideals. The snake
eats its tail. The snake always eats its tail.
Ross A. Kosmanson
April 9, 2025
Alone, inside The Catacombs of Paris, France
Nessie's hump: rest-exchange momentum, gently and gracefully moves
half-submerged, the shadow-play of forces real and virtual, reflecting
on the umbral gravity itself, and light's second and fourth and each
other spectrum, light as shadow, not the upper limit of information,
instead the lower. The light-speed rest-frame convention alongside,
makes what was ever the partial relativity into a completed being,
a theory, a theory, A Theory, A Theory, not merely lighting candles
at their epic monuments instead bringing them blinking and wide-eyed,
dawning on the reintegrative deconstruction and structuralist result
of the ends of logic themselves again, the zero-eth laws of mechanics
and all the higher orders of acceleration, whence Zeno and Vitali result >>> more than the sum of the parts, and exactly the sum of their parts.
Where the identity dimension refolds the Cartesian and the inner of
the orthogonal, then for another Euclidean geometry where lines meet
angles, a second great singularity after division by zero, not above
the mathematics where it was expected infinity would be, yet under it,
where infinity makes what would be, the stop derivative and Zeno's
swath, have a spiral space-filling curve then the great construction,
the hypercube distance: one.
Just more garbage from Ross devoid of any ...logic.
Hey Ross, you're not going to get any pussy talking like dat..
https://www.youtube.com/watch? v=bB5RiiK0ukI&list=PLb7rLSBiE7F5_h5sSsWDQmbNGsmm97Fy5&index=46
On 04/19/2025 12:09 AM, Bertitaylor wrote:
Roachie's crap beats Archie's.
No mean feat, that.
Woof woof woof-woof woof
Bertietaylor
--
Furthermore Ben Ito all your shit is garbage and secondarily nor consideration.
Dont' confuse that with plain Maxwellian fields, no, where sometimes
E x B and other D x H, that's a confused ignorance of Maxwell's
either/or what's real/potential.
Othewrwise since you didn't bolt your dumb proxy experiment down,
of course since you're a fake substititor of some carpet Indian's
loose electrical apparatus, why don't you figuratively die and
especially since the true originator of said experiment and your
stolen videos actually has his own narrative.
Heh heh, name salad!
Woof woof-woof woof woof-woof
--
On Sat, 19 Apr 2025 9:03:27 +0000, Ross Finlayson wrote:
On 04/19/2025 12:09 AM, Bertitaylor wrote:
Roachie's crap beats Archie's.
No mean feat, that.
Woof woof woof-woof woof
Bertietaylor
--
Furthermore Ben Ito all your shit is garbage and secondarily nor
consideration.
Pseudoscientific frauds don't know who they are talking about, let alone what!
What fools these apes be!
Woof woof woof-woof woof woof-woof
Bertietaylor
Dont' confuse that with plain Maxwellian fields, no, where sometimes
E x B and other D x H, that's a confused ignorance of Maxwell's
either/or what's real/potential.
Othewrwise since you didn't bolt your dumb proxy experiment down,
of course since you're a fake substititor of some carpet Indian's
loose electrical apparatus, why don't you figuratively die and
especially since the true originator of said experiment and your
stolen videos actually has his own narrative.
--
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