Why is the sky dark at night?

This question was originally posed many years ago by different people like Kepler, Halley, Jean de Cheseaux and Heinrich Olbers.

“[...] That question is not as simple as it may sound. You might think that space appears dark at night because that is when our side of Earth faces away from the Sun as our planet rotates on its axis every 24 hours. But what about all those other far away suns that appear as stars in the night sky? Our own Milky Way galaxy contains over 200 billion stars, and the entire universe probably contains over 100 billion galaxies. You might suppose that that many stars would light up the night like daytime!

Until the 20th century, astronomers didn’t think it was even possible to count all the stars in the universe. They thought the universe went on forever. In other words, they thought the universe was infinite.

Besides being very hard to imagine, the trouble with an infinite universe is that no matter where you look in the night sky, you should see a star. Stars should overlap each other in the sky like tree trunks in the middle of a very thick forest. But, if this were the case, the sky would be blazing with light. This problem greatly troubled astronomers and became known as “Olbers’ Paradox.” A paradox is a statement that seems to disagree with itself.

To try to explain the paradox, some 19th century scientists thought that dust clouds between the stars must be absorbing a lot of the starlight so it wouldn’t shine through to us. But later scientists realized that the dust itself would absorb so much energy from the starlight that eventually it would glow as hot and bright as the stars themselves.

Astronomers now realize that the universe is not infinite. A finite universe–that is, a universe of limited size–even one with trillions and trillions of stars, just wouldn’t have enough stars to light up all of space.

Although the idea of a finite universe explains why Earth’s sky is dark at night, other causes work to make it even darker.

Not only is the universe finite in size, it is also finite in age. That is, it had a beginning, just as you and I did. The universe was born about 15 billion years ago in a fantastic explosion called the Big Bang. It began at a single point and has been expanding ever since.

Because the universe is still expanding, the distant stars and galaxies are getting farther away all the time. Although nothing travels faster than light, it still takes time for light to cross any distance. So, when astronomers look at a galaxy a million light years away, they are seeing the galaxy as it looked a million years ago. The light that leaves that galaxy today will have much farther to travel to our eyes than the light that left it a million years ago or even one year ago, because the distance between that galaxy and us constantly increases. That means the amount of light energy reaching us from distant stars dwindles all the time. And the farther away the star, the less bright it will look to us. [...]“

By Dr. Marc Rayman

well, that’s it…apparently the distant stars get to be red-shifted into obscurity and distant light hasn’t even reached us yet…but there is always the Fractal Star Distribution theory that does not rely on Big Bang…

Enivrez-Vous

Holy Shit! – funnyfreepics.com

Charles Baudelaire. 1821-1867

Enivrez-Vous

Il faut etre toujours ivre.
Tout est la:
c’est l’unique question.
Pour ne pas sentir
l’horrible fardeau du Temps
qui brise vos epaules
et vous penche vers la terre,
il faut vous enivrer sans treve.
Mais de quoi?
De vin, de poesie, ou de vertu, a votre guise.
Mais enivrez-vous.
Et si quelquefois,
sur les marches d’un palais,
sur l’herbe verte d’un fosse,
dans la solitude morne de votre chambre,
vous vous reveillez,
l’ivresse deja diminuee ou disparue,
demandez au vent,
a la vague,
a l’etoile,
a l’oiseau,
a l’horloge,
a tout ce qui fuit,
a tout ce qui gemit,
a tout ce qui roule,
a tout ce qui chante,
a tout ce qui parle,
demandez quelle heure il est;
et le vent,
la vague,
l’etoile,
l’oiseau,
l’horloge,
vous repondront:
“Il est l’heure de s’enivrer!
Pour n’etre pas les esclaves martyrises du Temps,
enivrez-vous;
enivrez-vous sans cesse!
De vin, de poesie ou de vertu, a votre guise.”

Get Drunk

Always be drunk.
That’s it!
The great imperative!
In order not to feel
Time’s horrid fardel
bruise your shoulders,
grinding you into the earth,
get drunk and stay that way.
On what?
On wine, poetry, virtue, whatever.
But get drunk.
And if you sometimes happen to wake up
on the porches of a palace,
in the green grass of a ditch,
in the dismal loneliness
of your own room,
your drunkenness gone or disappearing,
ask the wind,
the wave,
the star,
the bird,
the clock,
ask everything that flees,
everything that groans
or rolls
or sings,
everything that speaks,
ask what time it is;
and the wind,
the wave,
the star,
the bird,
the clock
will answer you:
“Time to get drunk!
Don’t be martyred slaves of Time,
Get drunk!
Stay drunk!

On wine, virtue, poetry, whatever!”

Personally, i’m not a big alchool fan, i had my share of long island iced-t, indeed, and drunk loads of green wine, but stopped for years now…:) and don’t miss it that much..

I Thess 5.21: ” Prove all things; hold fast that which is good.”- Paul

No Fear

?

Rudyard Kipling. 1865

An Astrologer’s Song

“TO the Heavens above us
O look and behold
The Planets that love us
All harnessed in gold!
What chariots, what horses
Against us shall bide
While the Stars in their courses
Do fight on our side?

All thought, all desires,
That are under the sun,
Are one with their fires,
As we also are one:
All matter, all spirit,
All fashion, all frame,
Receive and inherit
Their strength from the same.

(Oh, man that deniest
All power save thine own,
Their power in the highest
Is mightily shown.
Not less in the lowest
That power is made clear.
Oh, man, if thou knowest,
What treasure is here!)

Earth quakes in her throes
And we wonder for why!
But the blind planet knows
When her ruler is nigh;
And, attuned since Creation
To perfect accord,
She thrills in her station
And yearns to her Lord.

The waters have risen,
The springs are unbound
The floods break their prison,
And ravin around.
No rampart withstands ‘em,
Their fury will last,
Till the Sign that commands ‘em
Sinks low or swings past.

Through abysses unproven
And gulfs beyond thought,
Our portion is woven,
Our burden is brought.
Yet They that prepare it,
Whose Nature we share,
Make us who must bear it
Well able to bear.

Though terrors o’ertake us
We’ll not be afraid.
No power can unmake us
Save that which has made.
Nor yet beyond reason
Or hope shall we fall
All things have their season,
And Mercy crowns all!

Then, doubt not, ye fearful
The Eternal is King
Up, heart, and be cheerful,
And lustily sing:
What chariots, what horses
Against us shall bide
While the Stars in their courses
Do fight on our side?”

yeah..we’ll see about that..

Future

?

Thomas Hardy. 1840

“Going and Staying”

THE moving sun-shapes on the spray,
The sparkles where the brook was flowing,
Pink faces, plightings, moonlit May,
These were the things we wished would stay;
But they were going.

Seasons of blankness as of snow,
The silent bleed of a world decaying,
The moan of multitudes in woe,
These were the things we wished would go;
But they were staying.

Is it a dream?

Walt Whitman (1819-1892) – Leaves of Grass

Song of the Universal

1

Come said the Muse,
Sing me a song no poet yet has chanted,
Sing me the universal.
In this broad earth of ours,
Amid the measureless grossness and the slag,
Enclosed and safe within its central heart,
Nestles the seed perfection.

By every life a share or more or less,
None born but it is born, conceal’d or unconceal’d the seed is waiting.

2

Lo! keen-eyed towering science,
As from tall peaks the modern overlooking,
Successive absolute fiats issuing.

Yet again, lo! the soul, above all science,
For it has history gather’d like husks around the globe,
For it the entire star-myriads roll through the sky.

In spiral routes by long detours,
(As a much-tacking ship upon the sea,)
For it the partial to the permanent flowing,
For it the real to the ideal tends.

For it the mystic evolution,
Not the right only justified, what we call evil also justified.

Forth from their masks, no matter what,
From the huge festering trunk, from craft and guile and tears,
Health to emerge and joy, joy universal.

Out of the bulk, the morbid and the shallow,
Out of the bad majority, the varied countless frauds of men and states,
Electric, antiseptic yet, cleaving, suffusing all,
Only the good is universal.

3

Over the mountain-growths disease and sorrow,
An uncaught bird is ever hovering, hovering,
High in the purer, happier air.

From imperfection’s murkiest cloud,
Darts always forth one ray of perfect light,
One flash of heaven’s glory.

To fashion’s, custom’s discord,
To the mad Babel-din, the deafening orgies,
Soothing each lull a strain is heard, just heard,
From some far shore the final chorus sounding.

O the blest eyes, the happy hearts,
That see, that know the guiding thread so fine,
Along the mighty labyrinth.

4

And thou America,
For the scheme’s culmination, its thought and its reality,
For these (not for thyself) thou hast arrived.

Thou too surroundest all,
Embracing carrying welcoming all, thou too by pathways broad and new,
To the ideal tendest.

The measure’d faiths of other lands, the grandeurs of the past,
Are not for thee, but grandeurs of thine own,
Deific faiths and amplitudes, absorbing, comprehending all,
All eligible to all.

All, all for immortality,
Love like the light silently wrapping all,
Nature’s amelioration blessing all,
The blossoms, fruits of ages, orchards divine and certain,
Forms, objects, growths, humanities, to spiritual images ripening.

Give me O God to sing that thought,
Give me, give him or her I love this quenchless faith,
In Thy ensemble, whatever else withheld withhold not from us,
Belief in plan of Thee enclosed in Time and Space,
Health, peace, salvation universal.

Is it a dream?
Nay but the lack of it the dream,
And failing it life’s lore and wealth a dream,
And all the world a dream.

Yoga

 

 

 

We definitely need to educate our bodies; at the moment, apart from training at the gym and mountain biking, i’ve started doing Yoga. Excellent results so far, i feel already the difference. Good for any age… 

Perfection of Yoga PosturesYogi Hari

 

 

 

 

Yoga (Sanskrit: योग Yoga, IPA: [joːgə]) is a group of ancient spiritual practices originating in India^[1] around 3300 BCE for the purpose of cultivating a steady mind. A practitioner of Yoga is called a Yogi or Yogini. 

Yoga has been defined as “technologies or disciplines of asceticism and meditation which are thought to lead to spiritual experiences and a profound understanding or insight into the nature of existence.”^[2] Outside India, yoga is mostly associated with the practice of asanas (postures) of Hatha Yoga or as a form of exercise. 

Many Hindu texts discuss aspects of yoga, including the Upanishads, the Bhagavad Gita, the Yoga Sutras of Patanjali, the Hatha Yoga Pradipika, and the Shiva Samhita.^[1][3] 

Major branches of yoga include: Hatha Yoga, Karma Yoga, Jnana Yoga, Bhakti Yoga, and Raja Yoga.^{[4] [5] [6]} Raja Yoga, established by the Yoga Sutras of Patanjali, and known simply as yoga in the context of Hindu philosophy, is one of the six orthodox (āstika) schools of thought. 

 

1. ^ ^{a b c} Zen Buddhism: A History (India and China) By Heinrich Dumoulin, James W. Heisig, Paul F. Knitter (page 13)

2. ^ Note: Definition given by Gavin Flood, Academic Director of the Oxford Centre for Hindu Studies ochs.org.uk, Flood (1996), p. 94.

3. ^ Qigong: Essence of the Healing Dance – Page 268 by Garri Garripoli

4. ^ Pandit Usharbudh Arya (1985). The philosophy of hatha yoga. Himalayan Institute Press; 2nd ed.

5. ^ Sri Swami Rama ( 2008 ) The royal path: Practical lessons on yoga. Himalayan Institute Press; New Ed edition.

6. ^ Swami Prabhavananda (Translator), Christopher Isherwood (Translator), Patanjali (Author). (1996). Vedanta Press; How to know god: The yoga aphorisms of Patanjali. New Ed edition.

 

AAsana (Sanskrit आसन sitting down < आस to sit down^[1]) is a body position, typically associated with the practice of Yoga, intended primarily to restore and maintain a practitioner’s well-being, improve the body’s flexibility and vitality, and promote the ability to remain in seated meditation for extended periods.^[2] In the context of Yoga practice, asana refers to two things: the place where a practitioner (yogin (general usage); yogi (male); yogini (female)) sits and the manner (posture) in which s/he sits.^[3] In the Yoga sutras, Patanjali suggests that asana is “to be seated in a position that is firm, but relaxed”.^[4] As the repertoire of postures has expanded and moved beyond the simple sitting posture over the centuries, modern usage has come to include variations from lying on the back and standing on the head, to a variety of other positions.^[2]In the Yoga sutras, Patanjali mentions the execution of an asana as the third of the eight limbs of Classical or Raja yoga.^[5]

 

1. ^ Monier-Williams, Sir Monier (1899). A Sanskrit-English Dictionary. Oxford Clarendon Press, p. 159

2. ^ ^{a b} Feuerstein, Georg (1996). The Shambhala Guide to Yoga. Shambhala Publications, Boston. pp. 26

3. ^ “Patanjali Yoga sutras” by Swami Prabhavananda , published by the Sri Ramakrishna Math ISBN 81-7120-221-7 p. 111

4. ^ Verse 46, chapter II; for translation referred: “Patanjali Yoga Sutras” by Swami Prabhavananda , published by the Sri Ramakrishna Math ISBN 81-7120-221-7 p. 111

5. ^ ^{a b c} Patanjali (± 300-200 B.C.) Yoga sutras, Book II:29

 

 

in Wikipedia.

Higher Intelligence

?

Priorities and Prospects

Noam Chomsky

Excerpted from Hegemony or Survival, Metropolitan Books, 2003

“A few years ago, one of the great figures of contemporary biology, Ernst Mayr, published some reflections on the likelihood for success in the search for extraterrestrial intelligence (SETI). Mayr took exception to the conclusions of astrophysicists who confidently expected to find higher intelligence throughout the universe. He considered the prospects of success very low. His reasoning had to do with the adaptive value of what we call “higher intelligence,” meaning the particular human form of intellectual organization. Mayr estimated the number of species since the origin of life at about 50 billion, only one of which “achieved the kind of intelligence needed to establish a civilization.” It did so very recently, perhaps a hundred thousand years ago. It is generally assumed that only one small breeding group survived, of which we are all descendants, apparently with very little genetic variation. What we call “civilizations” developed near the end of this brief moment of evolutionary time, and are “inevitably are short-lived.”

Mayr speculates that higher intelligence may not be favored by selection. The history of life on Earth, he concluded, refutes the claim that “it is better to be smart than to be stupid,” at least judging by biological success: beetles and bacteria, for example, are far more successful than primates in these terms, and that is generally true of creatures that fill a specific niche or can undergo rapid genetic change. He also made the rather somber observation that “the average life expectancy of a species is about 100,000 years.”

We are entering a period of human life that may provide an answer to the question of whether it is better to be smart than stupid — whether there is intelligent life on earth, in some sense of “intelligence” that might be admired by a sensible extraterrestrial observer, could one exist. The most hopeful prospect is that the question will not be answered: if it receives a definite answer, that answer can only be that humans were a kind of “biological error,” using their allotted 100,000 years to destroy themselves and, in the process, much else. The species has surely developed the capacity to do just that, and our hypothetical extraterrestrial observer might conclude that they have demonstrated that capacity throughout their history, dramatically in the past few hundred years, with an assault on the environment that sustains life, on the diversity of more complex organisms, and with cold and calculated savagery, on each other as well.”

Sometimes I wonder…

Yeah..sometimes I wonder too much..

Hopi Tribe Labyrinth

Urban Species - “I wonder”

Sometimes I wonder what I want out of life
Do I wanna settle down have myself some kids and a wife
I take the dog on walks and have a house with a drive
Then I wonder to myself can I handle that vibe
And then sometimes I wonder if we’ll ever be free
Then I wonder if we are but maybe we can’t see
I wonder about the youth that’s running round with no direction
And I wonder how to channel making use of that aggression
Yes I wonder what the worlds coming to
And I wonder what it’s like ta have no home to go to
You got no roof over your head maybe a park bench as ya bed
And if I wasn’t rappin’then I wonder what I’d do instead
Ya see I could be alone or in a crowded place
I get all introspective my mind starts to race
>From one place to another strung together like beads
But no you can’t stop the process once you’ve planted those seeds
Now I’m…

Wondering and I’m pondering and I’m thinking
Got me tripping out of my mind

And sometimes I wonder who I am and where I’m going
Is there anything to know if so am I worthy of knowing
I might wonder how and when my life is gonna end
Then I wonder to if I’m gonna come back again
And if I do would I have learnt from the mistakes I’ve made
Or will I have to carry on till all my debts have been paid
I wonder if there’s really such a thing as UFOs
And if they exist I wonder if they’re friends or foes
And if they’re foes I wonder if they’ll ever invade
Can they do a better job than the mess we’ve made
Like most of us I wonder what’s the reason that I’m here
Are dreams a recollection of a whole different sphere
Now I could be alone or in a crowded place place
I get all introspective and my mind starts to race
>From one place to another strung together like beads
Ya can’t stop the process once you’ve planted those seeds
Now I’m

Wondering and pondering and I’m thinking
Got me tripping out of my mind

Now sometimes I wonder if the radio will play this
If they do will it be on the A- or B-playlist
I wonder if I got what it takes
For me ta rock the microphone over beats and breaks
But those anxieties are gone when I hear the competition
Those kids and saying nothing that make me wanna listen
I wonder was it in vain our leaders died
I wonder why some people ain’t never satisfied
‘Cos no matter what youi got is like you always want more
I wonder, I wonder what’s behind the green door
I wonder who shot J.F.K., I wonder what if my mum’s OK
You know what I think I’ll call her today
I wonder ’bout problems of the world at large
I wonder if peace is just a big mirage

You think it’s there but it’s gone when you try to touch
Sometimes I wonder if I wonder too much…

Hello world!

Hello indeed! My first post is actually a poem about mankind and good deeds, by Rudyard Kipling, which gave me an idea for what a man could be.

Encounter – 1944 Lithograph by MC Escher

If

If you can keep your head when all about you
Are losing theirs and blaming it on you,
If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you
But make allowance for their doubting too,
If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,
Or being lied about, don’t deal in lies,
Or being hated, don’t give way to hating,
And yet don’t look too good, nor talk too wise:If you can dream–and not make dreams your master,
If you can think–and not make thoughts your aim;
If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster
And treat those two impostors just the same;
If you can bear to hear the truth you’ve spoken
Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,
Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken,
And stoop and build ‘em up with worn-out tools:

If you can make one heap of all your winnings
And risk it all on one turn of pitch-and-toss,
And lose, and start again at your beginnings
And never breath a word about your loss;
If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew
To serve your turn long after they are gone,
And so hold on when there is nothing in you
Except the Will which says to them: “Hold on!”

If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,
Or walk with kings–nor lose the common touch,
If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you;
If all men count with you, but none too much,
If you can fill the unforgiving minute
With sixty seconds’ worth of distance run,
Yours is the Earth and everything that’s in it,
And–which is more–you’ll be a Man, my son!

–Rudyard Kipling