As is revealed in Voyage of the Dawn Treader, the world of Narnia is a flat earth. Characters can literally fall of the edge of the world.
I started wondering, at one point, how thick is that edge?
Characters from our world report no differences in the gravity (or whatever) on Narnia; they don't feel any greater or lesser weight walking around. Arguably, if Narnia had a lower gravity, then the Pevensies might have had, at least, an easier time crossing through the snow. And contrariwise, if Narnia had a much higher gravity, then the adventure would have mostly been about aching knee joints.
Further, when the Pevensies stay in Narnia as kings and queens, they eat the food there, and this does not make them sick. The food they eat they report as tasting equivalent to earth food. When they grow up, they marry dryads and naiads and other mythological things and have children. Weird as this is, it all proves pretty much conclusively that Narnia is made of the same kind of "stuff" as Earth; this is important.
So we know three things. We know Narnia has the same overall downward-pulling force as Earth's gravity, we know that Narnia is made of the same kind of stuff as Earth, and we know that Narnia is a flat earth with a literal edge that you could fall off.
This is enough to calculate, to a very good approximation, how thick Narnia is.
Tuesday, March 19, 2013
Wednesday, March 13, 2013
No, I Don't Like BBC's Sherlock
I get asked this maybe once a week, on a good week. On a bad week, more. I think so far, every person that I know has asked me at least twice. I think friends from middle school that I haven't spoken to for over a decade have called me -- looked up my number and called me -- to ask if I like BBC's Sherlock. Then they hung up and called again to ask a second time.
The answer is no, I don't like it.
The answer is no, I don't like it.
Wednesday, March 6, 2013
The Literature Review Process, or So I Understand It
I'm in the bookstore, and a book catches my eye. More often than I'd like to admit, it's because it has a pretty cover illustration, or a very respectable binding. Or maybe it was misplaced on the shelf by a previous browser, or maybe it had a special display rack for itself.
Anyway, somehow, by some means, I've got the book in my hand, and I want to know: should I bother reading this?
Of course, I can't trust the reviews on the back of the book.
Anyway, somehow, by some means, I've got the book in my hand, and I want to know: should I bother reading this?
Of course, I can't trust the reviews on the back of the book.
Monday, March 4, 2013
Time Travel is Creepy
The other day, an idea dawned on me. It took several hours before the full weight of it began to sink in. It's an idea that has enjoyed constant employment by the human imagination, so much so that the terror of it has been weakened from banality. When I was forced to take it out of fantasy books and in to reality, I wasn't so sure I liked it.
It occurred to me, that it might be possible to make a device that causes light to travel in closed causal curves. As in, I could do some calculations and tell you how to make it and someone with a nanolab could build it in a year or so. This would allow communication with the future through radio waves; you broadcast them in to the machine and into the future, the future responds by broadcasting into the past.
It occurred to me, that it might be possible to make a device that causes light to travel in closed causal curves. As in, I could do some calculations and tell you how to make it and someone with a nanolab could build it in a year or so. This would allow communication with the future through radio waves; you broadcast them in to the machine and into the future, the future responds by broadcasting into the past.
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