from An Introduction to Information Science

To fathom the workings of the material universe, theoretical physicists have developed elaborate structures of strings, quarks, forces and dimensions, spreading out from a generative big bang, maybe 15 billion years ago. Researchers in cybernetics are beginning to postulate similar structures to explain the development of the dataverse or cyberspace, which exploded into being about 441 quadrillion nanoseconds ago, around 1994.

Left: Radio Bob deploys bogon detection apparatus.

Instead of particles possessed of mass, cyberspace is thought to be composed of particles of information. And instead of charge, they have polar qualities of validity and bogosity. The irreducible units of information are known as the bogon and the cluon. The presence of bogons can be felt most strongly in the vicinity of intense bogon emission sources, such as political figures and sales executives. The development of the worldwide web was accompanied by a huge outflux of bogons, as evidenced by early websites such as "The Hamster Dance," and by the formation of the dot.com bubble. Cluons propogate at a slower rate, trailing the wavefront of the "bogon bang" by as much as two years. The spreadsheets of venture capitalists became a rich source of cluons that helped to stabilize the rapidly deflating, but still superheated mass. While the interplay of cluons and bogons explain much of the observable dataverse, researchers are still seeking evidence for a supermassive neutral information particle, tentatively dubbed the "npron."

As in the physical universe, particles are not uniformly distributed in cyberspace. For example, there is a peak in the field strength of the local bogon flux each year, shortly after the vernal equinox. For an excellent exegesis of recent research, see the Wikipedia entry on quantum bogodynamics.

All things being equal

Day and night have come back into balance, as they do twice each year, but no one who has spent a winter in the North Country actually expects spring to begin just because the calendar says so. Still, each new inch that falls after the equinox is a cause for special grievance, particularly when the winter has lived up to the tall tales we like to tell new residents. I'd been keeping an eye on the massive overhang of ice that shadowed the north side of the living room, and sure enough, it let go yesterday, taking out a second storm window. I lost the first when trying to preempt the fall by whacking the build-up loose with a steel pipe. All things being equal, this time I just moved the easy chair a little farther into the room away from ground zero. I'd hate to be decapitated while watching The Daily Show.

What can you do except tough it out? I've never known prayer to make the lilacs bloom one day sooner. The extra light helps a little, but raises expectations doomed to be dashed. There are strawberries in the store, but they are no sweeter (nor softer) than turnips. All things being equal, I'll stick to preserves until the local crop is in. I can already taste it on the tongue of my brain. Spring hopes eternal.

Inside the anthill

Things get a little crazy around here during fundraiser time. At the moment I have three windows open to edit frequently updated web pages, two photo editor windows, one email application, a calculator, four web browser windows, a Word document, and an IM chat room connecting the various pitch people throughout the station. And I'm having the least crazy day. The news department is roiling like a kicked over anthill trying to keep pace with developments in Albany.

Radio Bob is just back from an epic arctic journey up Blue Mountain to put us back on the air in the southern Adirondacks after a prolonged outage. And everybody else is teleporting themselves up and down the hall trying to keep the wheels from flying off the fundraising cart.

Left: Why we were off: NCPR's "iceproof" receiving antenna on Blue Mt. before and after Radio Bob climbed the sucker and whacked on it with a hammer.

You all, on the other hand, remain calm, patient and dependable--sending in your usual generous support for our operations, along with a little extra to help celebrate our 40th birthday. We've been able to count on you all these years, and believe me--we remember who "brung us." Our heartfelt thanks to all of you who have supported us in this drive, and a special thanks to our volunteers, and to the businesses who have donated the great daily drawing prizes: Old Forge Hardware, Mountain Man Outdoor Supply Company, Red Truck Pottery and Clayworks, and Northern Music and Video. You can still get your name in the hat for tonight's drawing on a set of handmade serving dishes from Red Truck. And tomorrow's winner can live out his or her rock'n'roll fantasy with a Fender guitar from the folks at Northern. Call 1-877-388-6277 or visit us at ncpr.org before the drive ends.

40 is the new 19

NCPR turns 40 tomorrow. Your fortieth birthday is supposed to be the one you dread--the first stale breath of mortality--but we're pretty excited. And not just because many of us at the station look way back over our shoulders (if our necks can still turn that far) on our own 40 candles. The celebration just happens to coincide with our annual March Membership Drive (Tuesday-Friday). Being ravenous public radio mendicants, we hope you will dig a little deeper this year to help secure our next four decades on the air, or on whatever platforms public broadcasting homesteads by 2048--cyberspace, hyperspace, digital telepathy, or multiverse transdimensional tachyon distribution.

Perhaps the century-old Magliozzi brothers will still be razzing the owners of junker hovercraft, and GK will be the world's oldest as well as tallest radio comedian. You never know. What we do know is that we won't get there without you and your support. To sweeten the deal we have some excellent swag on offer, including a geekly bonanza giveaway for early renewals.

Give early and often, and drop by anytime to see us on the radio.