Friday, June 14, 2013
Prompted by what I wrote last week on this subject, Mickey’s son John (Eileen’s cousin) has some memories worth sharing. Chief amongst these, that his father was a devoted follower of Michael Collins and from time to time would literally cry about his being assassinated. This would turn into a tirade against Dev [de Valera], whom he held to be responsible, fervently praying that he should be shot.
John adds: “As kids we took no notice, knowing nothing of these matters, regarding all his mutterings as little short of rubbish. Anyway my mother had a very curt and common sense way of dismissing such things as totally irrelevant and a complete waste of time.”
Mickey’s occasional outbursts aside, John never at any time in his young life heard the civil war mentioned or opinions being expressed anywhere inside or outside of the home. Nor was it touched on at any school he attended - no more than if it had never occurred. He supposes that in the 1940’s it was too close to the events for dispassionate views to be expressed: not history yet, but rather a subject to steer clear of as memories could still be explosive. It was as if the entire nation was in denial, he says. Moreover Hitler and the world war seemed to tie up people’s thoughts in other directions.
I mentioned before how struck I was by the absence within the family of recriminations in later years. John adds that when he was young relations with his uncle Jonty were always most cordial “so fortunately the incident in the borheen was passed over with no lasting ill effects.”
Tuesday, June 11, 2013
Another cicada photo. Albert sent this one of their discarded shells in New Zealand. He says “I thought the empty shells were actually critters that could jump up at me. It was only later that I learnt that what I had been photographing were nothing more scary than empty cicada shells!” The shells’ owners were not necessarily dead. After emerging from underground the cicadas molt (shed their skins) on a nearby plant for the last time and emerge as adults. The abandoned exoskeleton remains, still clinging to the bark of trees, as here. More about their life-cycle in Wikipedia.
Monday, June 10, 2013
|Photo: Tom Wildoner|
It works this way. Cicadas are easy prey for birds and wasps. Now it turns out that predators commonly have 2-to-10-year population cycles. Imagine a cicada species with a 12-year cycle: it would be a feast for any predator with a 2-, 3-, 4-, or 6-year cycle (factors of 12).
On the other hand, Stephen J Gould reasoned in a famous essay that a cicada that emerges every 17 years and has a predator with a 5-year population cycle will only face a peak predator population once every 85 (5 x 17) years.
Advantage of prime numbers
This gives an enormous advantage to cicadas that know how to calculate prime numbers. Some biologists however claim that advanced number theory is well beyond the cicadas insect-sized brain and suggest instead that the pattern emerged as a result of Darwinian natural selection: cicadas that matured in easily divisible years were gobbled up by predators, and simply didn’t live long enough to produce as many offspring. Those who, by chance, had long, prime-numbered life spans fared best, survived longest, and left the most offspring, becoming the dominant variation of the species. It seems there are now at least fifteen distinct populations of periodical cicadas. Cicada emergence is tightly timed, with the bulk of the insects emerging within a span of a few weeks. Any cicada that tries to break the pattern is highly likely to have her offspring gobbled up.
I first became aware of this cicada prime number behaviour a few years ago through an In Our Time episode on prime numbers which I highly recommend. It included my guru Marcus du Sautoy.
In another radio programme I heard the biologist Simon Conway Morris pour cold water on cicadas and prime numbers, but he didn't elaborate his reasons.
Sunday, June 9, 2013
The English common law consists of about half a dozen obvious propositions, but unfortunately nobody knows what they are.
Why does this aphorism, which I've just stumbled on, tickle me? It's known to us through Harold Chaloner Dowdall (1868-1955), a high court judge. Whilst he didn't invent it, he was sufficiently impressed by it to record it for posterity in the following letter to The Times in 1932, relating a remark he heard many years earlier when a junior barrister.
Lord Sterndale [another high court judge] once said, “The common law consists of about half a dozen obvious propositions, but unfortunately nobody knows what they are.” He was reading a case I had looked up for him, and I did not know whether he was speaking to himself or enlightening a junior barrister in the mysteries of the law, and as his clerk immediately called him into Court the matter dropped. He was a leader at the time, and I think it was not long after he had taken silk. The observation is so witty and true that, unless it is already familiar, it deserves record; but as the number of those who knew Lord Sterndale diminishes, it would be interesting if any of your readers ever heard him make a similar observation.
The clerk immediately calling Lord Sterndale into court puts one in mind of the person from Porlock. Harold Chaloner Dowdall besides being a judge was also a regular commentator on ecclesiastical affairs, and in 1908-9 served as lord mayor of his native Liverpool.
The phrase “taken silk” referred to a barrister becoming a Senior Counsel. I know all this from the Quote Investigator, who has additional information with citations if you want it.