[Dean's World] Dean: The Poetry of Antiquated Science
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Sat Jun 3 13:16:48 EDT 2006
Posted by Dean:
The Poetry of Antiquated Science
http://www.deanesmay.com/posts/1149341812.shtml
I love archaic terms. I like to refer to radio waves as "travelling
through the aether," for example. Physicists used to think that light
and radio waves had to move through something, and they didn't know
quite what it was so they called it "the aether." They eventually
abandoned the concept of the aether because (a) it was no longer
useful, and (b) no direct evidence existed for it any anyway.
Epicycles are even more interesting. Early astronomers noticed that
the sun, the moon, the planets, and even the stars, seemed to run in
somewhat circular motions, but they travelled in odd, loop-de-loop
patterns. Here's a great illustration:
[1]lyman's epicycle illaustration
Click on the image to enlarge it. On the left is a basic illustration
of how we understand the moon's rotation today. It's how we all
understand planetary rotations today. But on the right, what the heck
is that?
On the right is how it seemed to the ancient astronomers. Is that
interesting or what? They observed that the moon seemed to orbit the
Earth, but it seemed odd. It had this weird whirly loop-de-loop
behavior, which they called an "epicycle." All of the planets, and all
the prominent stars, seemed to have their own unique epicycles around
the Earth. Mostly because they lacked our modern perspective, but also
because it seemed to so elegently illustrate their behavior.
Even today, in 2006, if you want to you can run the math that assumes
the Earth to be the center of the universe, and the Epicycles will
appear. Isn't that beautiful?
More rationally, those two illustrations represent an incredible
paradigm shift, the parsimony of a great scientific breakthrough. If
you give up your old way of thinking, and find a better way of seeing,
you usually get a clearer, cleaner, more parsimonious view: the Earth
and the other planets revolve around the sun, the moon revolves around
the sun, and the sun dances with all the other stars. Suddenly it's
not complicated anymore. Sure, we've lost the great beauty of the
epicycles, but we have gained immeasurably from discarding the old
ideas.
Yet I think that poetically, or lyrically, the old ideas still hold
some truth. It should still be fair to talk about these obsolete
concepts: the planets in their epicycles, travelling through the
aether. Why not? The beauty of human language, the human soul, allows
for such things, and expresses a beautiful truth in its own right.
I mean, think on it: the Moon does not circle the Earth. It performs a
spirographic loop-de-loop around us every month. Isn't that beautiful?
It is true despite all rational thought.
Similarly, there are words in the English language that poetic
speakers still, in 2006, love to employ. They are:
Sanguine: Of or relating to blood. Often means bright blood red. But
used poetically, it usually means "Cheerfully confident; optimistic.
Phlegmatic: A calm, sluggish temperament; unemotional, or indicating
laughter or humor.
Choleric: Filled with yellow bile. Showing or expressing anger;
bad-tempered.
Melancholic: filled with black bile. Severe depression, guilt,
hopelessness, sadness, and withdrawal.
Closely related is Bilious: Having a peevish disposition; ill-humored.
A combinaion of choleric and melancholic--lots of both types of bile.
These come from the days of the ancient Greek physician Hippocrates,
who believed that the various fluids of the body could be so
categoritized. If you had lots of good red blood you were in good
health and were sanguine. If you were very calm you had a lot of
phlegm (that stuff that clogs up your nose and that you blow into a
kleenex) and were in good health.
These are all great words. They're based on antiquated science that
said that the fluids running through your body could diagnose your
condtion. So if you were sanguine you had lots of blood shining
through your system and were happy and cheerful and optimistic. If you
were phlegmetic--had lots of snot and semen in your system--you were
calm, cool, and rational. If you were melancholic, meaning had an
excess of black bile runing through your system, you tended to be
moody, irritable, and obsessive. And if you were filled with the
choleric fluids, you tended to be bad-tempered but a creative type and
a leader.
Scientificaly, none of this has any value at all. None. It's
scientifically worthless. But poetically, within the English language,
it speaks all kinds of truths:
If you are "sanguine" you're in a terrifically good and optimistic
mood (look it up in the dictionary).
If you are phlegmetic, you are calm, cool, rational, and maybe have a
dry sense of humor. (Again, look it up in any good dictionary)
If you are deeply depressed and unhappy, we often say you are
suffering from melancholy.
Those are all fairly common words. Gradually losing favor has been the
term "choleric," although I like it, as it indicates someone who is in
a very bad mood and difficult to get along with, although choleric
people often get things done when no one else can.
There's also a semi-common word, "bilious," but which I've often seen
spelled "bileous" (prounounced "BILE-ous"), but which I've also seen
spelled as "bileous," or just "full of bile. I think that word can
safely be applied to Rush Limbaugh, Anne Coulter, Al Franken, Janeane
Garofalo, Bill O'Reilly, Sean Hannity, Paul Krugman, Debbie Schlussel,
and yes, Dean Esmay on a bad day.
Oh yeah, and if you've ever heard the phrase, "He/she is in a good
humour today," you should realize that whether the speaker knows it or
not, she's referring to these antiquated notions of old science. The
"humours" have nothing to do with things being funny or not, they just
describe someone's mood: bad humour means they're filled with both
kinds of bile, and good humour means they're filled with bright red
blood and rich phlegm (yeah I know, "ick!" but thats what it means.)
Here in the early 21st century, I take a sort of delight in saying, "I
feel sanguine" or "these funny jokes about the current situation make
me phlegmetic." And when I'm in a bad mood I love to say that I feel
bileous, or to look at someone who is saying things that are angry and
resentful, and to say that they're "pumping out their bile."
It has no scientific meaning whatsoever, but poetically it speaks to a
truth that has been understood here in the West for more than 2,000
years.
Ain't that neat?
References
1. file://localhost/files/deanesmay-Epicycle-1.gif
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