Author: Jonah Goldstein

While discussing the part of Zulus in which Alice, while imprisoned in the rebel camp, apparently gives birth to herself, I could not help but be reminded of a video I watched a while ago about the “Banach-Tarski Paradox.” The paradox is a theorem that apparently proves that an item can be duplicated, resulting in an exact copy without any loss of density (clearly the comparison is not perfect, as the second Alice Achitophel that is spawned from the first is a thinner version). The video was created by one of my favorite YouTube-ers, a man named Michael Stevens who owns a channel called “Vsauce.” In the video, Stevens prefaces the Banach-Tarski Paradox with a discussion regarding infinity, talking about the different kinds of infinity and their properties. Then, he gives an in-depth explanation of the theorem, which shows that, my naming each point on a sphere and manipulating them in a certain way, you can get two perfect copies without any loss of material.

The various minds working on the paradox have yet to prove or disprove it. I am sure Moran would have a lot to say regarding what we must to make any progress in the matter, as interdisciplinary efforts are critical. While the theorem seems possible mathematically, it is the responsibility of mathematicians to work with physicists to find out if it is possible in the real world. While this purely theoretical mathematical anomaly may not seem to have any practical uses, scientists have actually already have found a possibly link between the Banach-Tarski Paradox and the particle collisions that occur in the Large Hadron Collider, some of which seem to result in more particles than they started with.

In Moran’s Interdisciplinarity: The New Critical Idiom, it is stated that as time goes on, the disciplines have become both more numerous and more isolated. Nietzsche and Ortega indicate that “this development was not simply an organic consequence of advances in knowledge, but was also the product of institutional and societal factors, particularly the demand for specialists in a complex and technologically sophisticated society” (Moran, Joe [2010-02-25]. Interdisciplinarity: The New Critical Idiom [p. 12]. Taylor and Francis. Kindle Edition.). The result, Moran states, is that many disciplines are now completely unable to communicate with each other; it is as if they are speaking different languages. There is one language, however, that is universal: the language of absurdity.

Continue reading “The Shared Experience of Absurdity”

If you told my mom about 17 years ago that I would grow up to major in English, she would have thought you were crazy. When most kids my age were talking, I wasn’t saying a word. Terrified that I might have a learning disability, my mom took me to the doctor, who cryptically remarked, “Oh, he’s one of those.” My mom discovered what she meant soon enough. One day, when I was more than two years old, I suddenly started talking in full sentences. Apparently, I had been waiting to talk until I had a firm enough grasp on language to speak fluently.

As a child, I read non-stop. If I didn’t have a book on hand at the breakfast table, I would read the cereal box in front of me. I cunningly realized that reading was a form of procrastination my parents wouldn’t get mad at me for. In school, I was always good at English, though my grades may not have shown it. Years of constantly having a face gave me the ability to write well and comprehend advanced texts. It was in class participation that I truly shined, and I did well on essays (always with a point deduction for lateness – time management was not my strong suit). Sophomore year of high school, my English teacher recommended me for AP English not because I had the grades for it, but because he “had to.”

I decided to major in English for a number of reasons. I want to recapture the love of reading that I seemed to lose in high school. I would love to end up in theatre or comedy or television, and I would be equally pleased to be on the performing or the writing end. I regard writing as one of the highest forms of self-expression; it is so intimate, so immersive. Crafting one’s ideas until they are sufficiently polished as to be shared with an audience is highly appealing.

Additionally, I believe that majoring in English will result in a more well-rounded education that will lend greater flexibility to my career path. Given the nature of English class, and all the connections it requires you to make, I hope to experience the “broad-based education that formed part of the general development of [a] student (Interdisciplinarity p. 9).”