violapterin

Götterdämmerung

Abstract: I review a performance of Twilight of the Gods, commenting in roughly such order: on listening experience, music interpretation, staging and design, and Wagner’s composition itself as a drama and a piece of music.

This production of Twilight of the Gods (Götterdämmerung) is conducted by Shao-Chia Lü (呂紹嘉), and directed by Carlus Padrissa. Brünnhilde is played by Rachel Nicholls, Siegfried by Lance Ryan, Hagen by Andrea Silvestrelli, Gunter by Lauri Vasar, Gutrune by Sandra Trattnigg. According to the credit, it is originally staged by La Fura Dels Baus.

It was the Oct 4 performance, in National Taichung Theater, that I attended. It was the first time I entered this lofty modernistic building, having opened about exactly 3 years ago. One walked in the middle of huge curved pillars, and came up several set of stairs to get to the big hall where the performance was to take place. There, a large orchestra pit could be accommodated, which the National Concert Hall couldn’t do. There were medium- and small-halls too. Indeed, just now there was a listening guide (presenter called 呂岱衛), holding in the medium hall that had started at about 16:00, which I joined. The talk was very helpful. We were given free brochures, which summarized the plot and verbal description (but without score examples) of leitmotifs.

Act 1 lasted from 17:15 to 19: 10; Act 2 from 19:45 to 20:45; Act 3 from 21:10 to 22:30. In the two long intermissions, stands were selling absurdly expensive light food, but hungry people still bought that, myself included. When it ended, I was fearing that I could not catch the train to Taipei, but I managed to stay for another 10 minutes to give stand ovation, for applauding was more important. But I took a taxi, and caught the last train successfully, thus making perfect use of today’s schedule.

Before this, I kind of thought Wagner to be dry, and even hypnotic, and so I was not a big fan of his. This time I decided to gave it a try, out of curiosity to see in person what a full-fledged Ring production would be like. Moreover, this Spanish team had collaborated with the opera house for 4 years in a row, and it was to be the last one in the cycle. The Ring was not something commonly performed in entirety, and the next time can mean forever. So I went to the concert.

And I do not regret it at all! My prejudice against Wagner dispels, and I think he is meant to be watched, which seems so obvious in retrospect!

The orchestra accompaniment is of high quality: overall the music flows smoothly, and very little mistake is made. Somehow the interpretation is more controlled than agitated, but I am not sure. I am seated in the principal hall, level with the stage, with ticket priced 3 000 NTD, at the point one-third the width to the right wall, and one-third the depth to the back wall. The acoustic experience is really great, and I am also close enough to see the actor’s facial expression. When one has listened to a real, full-sized orchestra, recordings pales in comparison. Tubas, timpani, and double bassoons are particularly grandiose to hear in real time.

The singers are impressive too. Apart from daunting register and sheer volume that Wagner demands, the roles of Siegfried and Brünnhilde call for a youthful vividness. Siegfried’s voice part is especially challenging. There are piano passages which involves notes as high as $A_4$ , and his highest note throughout the work (I recall) is $C_5$ ! And when he is to die, and kneels and lies face-down on the floor, calling Brünnhilde’s name, Siegfried even sings as effortlessly as usual. This being said, Hagen’s voice is particularly sonorous, while being somehow coarse (but not displeasingly so), which strangely suits the sinister character of his. Though Siegfried and Brünnhilde are extraordinary enough to compete with the orchestra, the resounding voice of Hagen’s still overwhelms theirs.

On the other hand, the stage and costume design are eccentric. First, the costume is in the science fiction style. That apart, there are more obscure symbolism all over the place, like numbers in Chinese characters, and a big $\pi$ (as big as his chest) printed on the back of Gunther’s coat—No, I didn’t expect the LaTeX feature of WordPress will come in handy in this music review. Everybody wears western suits, except for the quasi-primitive outfit Siegfried wears in the very beginning, and the incongruity can be odd.

Most of the time, the stage is empty (except perhaps for tables and chairs), and the surroundings are hinted only by image projection. The minimalism policy in costumes and props works okay, but it probably was not what Wagner expected, considering that the composer built a cutting edge theater to make his lavish production possible.

The minimalism can be too much, for example, in the last dramatic event, that Hagen should have been devoured into the River Rhine to death. This is not shown directly, but instead, Hagen (or another one?) rides on a electronic unicycle and falls onto the ground. (To be sure, it is difficult to tell what’s happening in the midst of a swarm of acrobats.)

The director also incorporates some acrobat performance, which is not a bad thing, but it is unfortunate that the acrobats’ endeavor can’t be integrated more effectively to the main part of the story. In end of act 1, purported nudes (in skin-colored bodysuit) appear and wiggle on the rock where Brünnhilde resides, when Siegfried, disguised as Gunther, swears by the sword that he will not touch Brünnhilde. So what do the nudes signify? They can’t mean the lust Siegfried has for Brünnhilde, which he has none after drinking the love potion. Similarly in the end of act 2 these entertainers make virtuoso jumps in the supposed realm of gods, not sure what that signify. In the end of Act 3, acrobat performers, hung like flying trapeze, again impressively circles around Siegfried’s dead body, which is said to be the building of Valhalla on the brochure. (I guess it is due to ease of arrangement, that they always introduce acrobats in the concluding section only.) At least the positive thing (not being sarcastic) is that they make good use of the vertical visual room in this spacious hall.

In addition to acrobats, the director is trying very hard to prevent audiences from sleeping, by projecting animation on the screen, when purely instrumental interludes are playing. It shows, e.g., the sea Siegfried is in, when he goes on his adventures in Act 2. So, though it turns out really hard to feel sleepy, animation can be a bit ludicrous, given the serious nature of the drama.

Finally on the composition itself. To begin, the plot of the whole Ring cycle is actually rather well arranged. There are interlocking action out of love and hatred, loyalty and betrayal, making characters well-rounded and complicated. And introduction of physical devices (e.g. the ring and helmet) and character relation often foreshadows later development.

It is so heartbreaking that, in the story, if anyone had throw the ominous ring away in any stage, the characters will avoid their doomed fate. Like the moment that the Rhine girls is teasing Siegfried, the composer portrays his reckless character in great precision. Money is nothing to Siegfried, and he is almost to give the ring away when the Rhine girls pledge him so. But when they warn him of the tragic ending he is facing, he ironically determined to keep the ring instead, in rebel to the fate.

Meanwhile, admittedly, there are also some inconsistency in the plot. For example, in the last part of Act 2, surely Gunter does not know the fact that Brünnhilde has been united with Siegfried. But when Brünnhilde says that there is a vulnerable spot on Siegfried’s back, doesn’t Gunter suspect that there is something between them? As another instance, why is Siegfried just about to come to the Gibichungs’ castle, the moment Hagen, Gunther, and Gutrune there finishes the discussion of their evil plan? This is too much a coincidence. But these problems may also have something to do under the limitation of transition of scenes.

As for the music, the heart of Wagner’s success (or failure) is his introduction and use of leitmotifs. In its best, the effect is remarkable and highly satisfying. Like the section that Siegfried recounts his adventure: previous leitmotifs appear, in relevant order, when he describes the people and things, all constructed tightly and organically. Also the very last section that Brünnhilde jumps into the flames to her death, is also a masterpiece; it eloquently reminds us of — and summarizes — the whole franchise, by a series of leitmotifs, collectively suggestive of the theme of destruction and redemption.

So how may Wagner still appear abstruse to some? I guess it is due to fact that his melodies usually lacks distinctive shape. In fact, they are not changed and developed as much as what Beethoven often does to them in his sonatas and symphonies. But they follow leitmotifs rather faithfully — a tremendous constraint. I now remember nothing of the melody, but can’t forget (and can be tired of) the ever-repeating leitmotifs.

And Wagner seldom writes heavy contrapuntal lines, nor introduces rhythmic complexities, leaving the melody subordinating to homophony. I would appreciate if Wagner had written more duets and trios, as in the Ring the parts mainly consist of a single voice. (There is only one section, namely the argument between Gunter, Brünnhilde, and Hagen in the last section of Act 2, as mentioned above, that may be loosely counted as a trio.) In this regard, singers can be considered as just another music instrument.

Wagner’s harmony is not progressive, if that can be a factor too. One peculiarity of his is the use of the so-called half-diminished 9th chord (e.g., $\{B_3, D_4, F_4, A_4, C_5\}$ ). Here the minor ninth is unnatural, and does sounds like avant-garde, but apart from that, he retains a generally classical harmony usage.

Generally, though I am sympathetic to Wagner’s rationale of introducing leitmotifs, I gather that it does not quite work out. Indeed, what Wagner’s idiosyncrasy dismays people (and sometimes me), is precisely what pleases his fans, and what he considered to have been his contribution. And this is probably true to every inventive artist. Wagner is still not my favorite opera composer, but I recognize his effort and praise his ingenuity. Maybe I will grow liking him, maybe not. I do replay other Ring albums on Spotify from time to time, and the more I listen to them, they do seem the less daunting and the more enjoyable.

The liminf and limsup for sets

Liminf and limsup for sets will be used in the proof of Borel-Cantelli Lemma. There are two equivalent definitions on Wikipedia, and it seems weird at first. Namely: liminf (resp. limsup) is defined as union of intersections (intersection of unions), and is also said as occurring infinitely often (occurring for all but finite indices). Let us verify their equivalence.

Let a sequence of sets, $A_1, A_2, \dotsc$ be given. By definition,
$\limsup\limits _{n \to \infty} A_n :=\bigcap\limits _{k =1} ^{\infty} \bigcup\limits _{n =k} ^{\infty} A_n$ … [1]
We claim
$\limsup\limits _{n \to \infty} A_n := \bigcap\limits _{k =1} ^{\infty} \{\omega:\; \omega \in A_n \quad \mathrm {infinitely\; often}\}$ … [2]
By definition of union,
$=\bigcap\limits _{k =1} ^{\infty} \{\omega:\; \exists n,\; n \geq k,\; \omega \in A_n\}$
By definition of intersection,
$=\{\omega:\; \forall k\; \exists n,\; n \geq k,\; \omega \in A_n\}$ … [3]
The meaning is completely the same as “infinitely often”, as claimed.

Alternatively, we may define
$\limsup\limits _{n \to \infty} A_n =: \{\omega: \limsup \mathbf{1}_{\{A_n\}} [x] =1\}$

Similarly, suppose
$\liminf\limits _{n \to \infty} A_n :=\bigcup\limits _{k =1} ^{\infty} \bigcap\limits _{n =k} ^{\infty} A_n$
We claim
$= \bigcap\limits _{k =1} ^{\infty} \{\omega:\; \omega \in A_n \quad \mathrm {for\; all\; but\; finitely\; many}\; n\}$
By definition of intersection,
$=\bigcup\limits _{k =1} ^{\infty} \{\omega:\; \forall n,\; n \geq k,\; \omega \in A_n\}$
By definition of union,
$=\{\omega:\; \exists k\; \forall n,\; n \geq k,\; \omega \in A_n\}$
The meaning is completely the same as “all but finitely many”, as claimed.

Alternatively, we may define
$\liminf\limits _{n \to \infty} A_n =: \{\omega: \liminf \mathbf{1}_{\{A_n\}} [x] =1\}$

Personal Position Study #02

Find the best move for White.

honorbear v. violapterin, Sep. 7, 2019

1. … Rg7 (Fig.)

★ Spoiler alert! See below for the answer. ★

actual-01

The main line is supposed to be the better response. The underlined are the actual continuation in the game.

Now, Black seems to have trapped the white queen … or has he?

2. Rxa6+!

By sacrificing the rook, White have not only saved his queen, but is also unfolding a series of possible attack, as follows.

[2. … Kxa6? 3. Qxd5 Nf6 {responding to 4. Qxb7#}

[(3. …Rc7 4. Rb6+! Nxb6 5. Qb5+ Ka7 6. axb6+ {winning back the rook in no time!} Kb8 7. Qe8+ Qc8 8. Qe5 {pinning the rook} Rg5 9. bxc7+ Qxc7 10. Qe8+ Qc8 11.Qxc8+ Kxc8 ± {White has 4 pawns for the black rook, which is certainly playable.})

[4. Qb5+

[(4. Rb6+ {also possible} Ka7 5. Nb5+ Ka8 6. Ra6+ Kb8 7. Qe5+ Rgc7 8. Nxc7 bxa6 9. Nd5+ Kb7 10. Qxf6± {10. … Bg7? Qb6+. White is threatening mate, or taking the Black bishop, or the pass a-pawn})

[4. … Ka7 5. Qb6+

[(5. … Ka8? 6. Nb5 1-0 {the only way for Black to continue is giving up the bishop: 6. … Bc5 7. dxc5 Qd1+ 8. Kg2 Qd5+ 9. Rf3 Qxc5 10. Rxf6 Qxb6 11. axb6 ± and white is up in material.})

[5. … Kb8 6. Qxf6 Qg5 7. Qe5+ Qxe5 8. dxe5]

While Black has a rook for a knight, White just has too many pawns. Still Black may want to give it a try.

2. … bxa6! 3. Qxd5 Nf6 4. Qe5 ±

Now b5 is guarded, and there is no 4. Qb5+. See what crucial effect it has on the game! The tension is dissolved, and Black retains material.

Personal Position Study #01

Find the best move for White.

honorbear v. violapterin, Aug. 19, 2019

1 … Kf7 (Fig.)

★ Spoiler alert! See below for the answer. ★

actual-01

The main line is supposed to be the better response. The underlined are the actual continuation in the game.

2. Qc7!

[2. Kf1?? Qb5+ 3. Nc4 (2. Kg1 Ne2+) Bxc4+ 4. Rxc4 Qxc4+ 5. Qd3 Qxd3+ 6. Rxd3 Nc6 0-1

[2. Rc7?? Ne2+ 3. Kh1 Nxg3+ 4. fxg3 Qxc7 {the knight check stops White from forking the Black queen}

[2. Qh4! {this continuation is okay} Rfc8! {avoiding 3. Rxd4} 3. Qh7+ Ke8 4. Qxd7+ Kxd7 5. Rxd4+

[2. Rd2? Nf3+ 3. Qxf3 Qxd2]

2. … Rac8

Black still tries to avoid 3. Rxd4

3. Qxd7+ Bxd7 4. Rxc8±

Stockfish suggests 4. … Nf3+ for the desperado knight. Anyway, the black knight cannot be kept. White has excellent g- and h-pass pawns, and is likely to win the endgame.

Definite Description and Context

0. Background

It is, in a possible form, one of the central concerns of analysis philosophy to translate the ordinary utterances into predicate logic propositions. And I have increasingly felt that the goal, though important, might turn out to be inadequate and doom to fail. Indeed, I argue that the natural sentences may depend highly on context, and the context can be difficult or impossible to define by logic only.

Let us examine, for concreteness, Russell’s theory of definite description, namely the translation of the definite article “the” into predicate logic. The theory does not take account of linguistic context. Thus I am inclined to say that it is problematic.

According to Russell, a sentence that contains “the”, such as

(1) The F is G

Is identical to

(2) There is exactly one F, and F is G.

Thus,

(3) The capital of The UK is a beautiful city.

is identical, as of now, to

(4) There is exactly one entity so that: it is capital of The UK; and that entity is a beautiful city.

1. The example of incomplete description

The first objection, which is certainly not original, is of incomplete description. Say that: Alice has a dog, and the dog is ill. The sentence

(5) The dog of Alice’s is ill.

There are likely other people called Alice who keep dogs, and Alice may keep several dogs. And this is problematic even if we add other attributes that Alice’s dog possess:

(6) The dog of Alice’s, of black-dotted fur, of height 53.02cm, [etc….], is ill.

Possibly doesn’t point to a single dog either. In fact, the dog being referred is limited to the context (for example, what people in mind who is talking to Alice), and it is absurd to suggest the speaker of (5) intends (6).

2. The example of twin earth

Inspired by the Twin Earth Experiment, I think of a second objection. Consider that, in a possible world, there is another planet very far away, say in Andromeda, which is a Twin Earth, identical in every regard to our Earth, and every person on the Earth has an exact twin on the Twin Earth. Bob, from our Earth, arrives the Twin Earth in Andromeda, and says the sentence (3).

Now (3) does not translate to (4) in people in the Twin Earth. In the alien’s context, “The capital of The UK” is also called “London”, but it lies in the Twin Earth.

3. The example of physical reference

Moreover, I argue that the speaker who use the definite description usually does not really check the definition of the referred object, and may not even be capable in verifying the conditions that the description holds. Consider that Charlie is walking in the field and looks at a particular white duck. Later, Charlie saws and the duck again in a group of ducks. Charlie says to someone:

(7) I saw the white duck in the group this morning.

Russell would think that (7) can be translate to be

(8) There is only one thing so that: it is in the group, it is a duck, and was seen by Charlie this morning.

But it may be beyond Charlie’s capability to check (8), nor does he have good reasons to believe (8). The group of ducks may contain a white goose, which Charlie lacks the expertise to distinguish. Indeed, to justify (8), Charlie has to check, one by one, in the group, that “It is a duck” (which is difficult), and that he has saw it (which he did not really check). Most likely, Charlie does not know the precise definition of the duck, including that it is named under binomial nomenclature to be Anas platyrhynchos, that its bill width and wing length are within technical regulation, and so on. And in the group of duck there may be a white goose, which can be hard to tell from duck. In reality, the proposition “It is a duck” need not be evaluated as thus, for Charlie has physically followed the white duck, has pointed it out, and has good reasons to believe (7) is true.

4. Conclusion

In each case, I am inclined to think that it is unlikely that any countably-many conjunctions or disjunctions of predicate logic propositions can be faithfully translate the context of relevant dialogue. If the context is just “something more” than logical predication can deal with, will any theory of definite description ultimately fail?

5. References

Peter Ludlow, “Descriptions“, The Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy.

王文方(2008)，形上學，台北:三民

Solitude Vacation in Okinawa (4/4)

Day 4: July 11

1.

By the monorail, it took about 10 minutes to go from the Miebashi Station to the Shuri Station (首里駅), and then one walked for another 10 minute to the Shuri Castle (首里城). It was free to enter the park of World Heritage, including going into part of the castle. The route of visit was well planned, and one followed the arrow on the pervasive signs to go into Kankaimon-gate (歓会門) first. The stone walls that surrounded the castle, and the stairsteps too, were built of hexagon stone bricks, which were polished very evenly and were tightly in contact with each other. I wondered how they cut the stone bricks so precisely. The stone, except for the fern and grass in the fissure, did not appear to be so old, but definitely appeared genuine and not restored.

2.

There was a gate, inside which one had to pay to visit. I was given a plastic bag (which appeared strange to me at first), and was asked to take off my shoes. Along the planned route of visit, one can see artifacts, for example a big bell’s mold, peony-carved bricks, dragon-shaped pillow remnant, the Ryukyu kings’ crown and seal, and a series of portraits of kings, all of them in the Mandarin costume. From what’s left here, the Ryukyu kings probably wrote calligraphy as skillfully as the Qing emperors. And there were the tatami-mats where the king must have sat, and looked down his people proudly. To call servants in another room, they pulled a bell, which seemed intriguing to us. These were all very interesting, but I found the stone-wall-building artistry to be most impressive above all.

3.

At the highest point there was an observation. One saw the China sea, the Tomari port I had been, the buildings that Naha city was, and the red roof-tiles of the palace that I was just moments ago. I left the castle, and found a wood pavilion at the center of the lake, which would have been a nice resting place if it had not been so hot. A sign explained that, in WWII, intense battles took place here, and American seized Okinawa, causing most ruin destroyed. While the Ryukyu Kingdom had once dominated the island, and in its prime vowed to serve as the port of “thousands of countries”, all that now left was a broken castle.

4.

The sentiment was all very noble, but I was hungry again. Close to the castle a restaurant called Suimui-kan (首里杜館) seemed to be the only decent place to eat. I ordered a soba-noodle, similar to what I had had in the America Village. The stewed pork often contained cartilage and fat, which I didn’t like. By the way, on the way back I helped a Thai woman — who lost her way back, could not speak English, and could not access Wifi — go to a police station. Though it would be quite a while before the flight was to took off, I chose to get to the Naha airport earlier to pick some Aloha shirts hard to see in Taiwan (or are they?).

Solitude Vacation in Okinawa (3/4)

Day 3: July 10

1.

It was said that there is a Fish Market near the Tomari (泊) port. It was a 10-minute walk from the hotel. On the road thereto, for the first time I realized I have been dwelling near the sea. In the market there were insanely cheap pieces of fish, or packs of bloody-clam or sea urchins, covered in plastic wrap and displayed down the corridor. However there were not many restaurant nearby. I walked into one I discovered, whose name I do not remember now, and ordered plate of about ten assorted sushi’s, which cost only a modest 1350 yen. It was certainly fresher than what I had had in conveyor-belt sushi shops in Taipei in the before, but seemingly neither was it magically different. Outside, ferry boats and fishing boats were strung in a row, on which severely tanned fishermen were, and far away huge cruise-boat could be seen.

2.

On the Google map, along the seashore it seemed possible to walk to Naminoue-Shrine (波上宮), but it was getting intolerably hot. A ice-cream-vending machine read: Beware of heat strokes. Next to the Shrine there was a small beach, where I thought I would be excited to take a sunbath, but this idea now sounded like a self-imposed torture. Up I climbed the hill, where emerged the Torii-gate (鳥居) of Naminoue Shrine’s. I did not intend for the paid prayer services, as I was not pious, but I did pressing my hands and close my eyes out of respect. The string of paper pieces hung from the ceiling waved with the hot wind, below there was the donation chest. I donated all my coins less than 100-yen into the slits of chest. By the shrine proper, out of Chinese-dragon-shaped stone statue’s mouth, flowed water for purification use; I followed the instruction to wash my hands and rinse my mouth. The heat started to made me uncomfortable and I took a taxi to Asabashi (旭橋) Station, where bus terminal was.

3.

Yesterday I was considering something like going to Gyoku-Sendo, but having asked the staff I now found it too far away, and thus decided to visit the American village. The bus no. 28 will do. One walked towards the ferris wheel, and beside it the imitation-wood houses were conspicuous. There rap songs were played, and vintage posters could be seen everywhere. I had a chili hot dog which is not spicy at all. I thought it was an okay place, but the atmosphere was more Disney-like than genuinely American, as when I now walked around the genuine Japanese street, it was not the case that every single thing shouted that it was of Japanese origin. Anyway, now, it was only 2pm and I had no idea what to do.

4.

But I found, on Google map, a bike shop “Sunset Bicycle” that regularly closed in 6pm, and I came up the idea (upon discussing with the shop owner) that, following the road 58, one might get to Cape Maeda (真栄田岬) or cape Zanpa (残波岬), and came back, constituting an almost 30km round trip, which seemed not impossible. For about half an hour, by a parking area near Kadena (嘉手納), as read the sign, there was a piece of beach. I could not stop sweating, and drank nearly three bottles of sparkling water — I bought one as soon as I saw a vending machine. From Kadena, the pavement began to be bumped and narrow, and though I managed to go inside residential district to find easier roads, it could be dangerous riding along with cars, and I always forgot keeping to the left. It was 3 and half, and I found it likely that I could not made it before 6pm, and it would be extremely cumbersome if I would not be able to return the bike, thus I decided going back. Along the seashore, fragmented pieces of beach, with no one near, were all over the place. After going back, I roamed on the sands on the beach by the American Village for a while before returning the bike. I ordered a mediocre Ramen in the mall, and, thinking today’s plan was not tightly packed enough, had another bowl of green-tea flavored shredded-ice (かき氷). I could only hope to get up really early to visit the Shuri castle tomorrow, to make most of it before I leave.

Solitude Vacation in Okinawa (2/4)

Day 2: July 9

1.

As yesterday I asked a staff of the monorail station, one went to the Naha Bus Terminal, at Asahibashi (旭橋), to get on the bus “117” to the Aquarium. It was a good 2-hour drive to the Aquarium; I did not know it was that far. Though having slept little, I could not fall asleep on the bumpy highway. By about Nago City, the bus came out of weeds and tombs, and followed the seashore. I had plenty time watching in solitude the sea, which extended to the unfathomable skyline in loneliness, and brooding about what misery the mankind was in, and completing the boring writing that this essay was. One got off on the “Memorial park” (記念公園前), which was exactly the entrance of the Ocean Expo Park, where the Aquarium was. It was moderately hot, but very humid in the air. Following the brochures, one walked for some 5 minutes to the right to get into the churaumi-suizokukan (美ら海水族館), or the “Beautiful Aquarium”. There was a Shark Statue in front of the door, which I would soon realize what it stand for.

2.

With the 1850 yen ticket, one got into the building crowded with people, many of whom were speaking Mandarin, and were downright excited kids. In the first room one may touch the sea stars and sea urchins, if done gently. And there was a big fish tank made with magnifying glass-wall, so that a variety of fish could be closely examined.
A swirling school of clownfish (people exclaiming “Nemo”, in reference of Finding Nemo), a really huge and scary grey sweetlips, a trumpetfish like a stick, and sea turtles that whipped its limbs to surface upwards — and a myriad of creatures I could not name. What, to you, now read like meaningless encyclopedia entries had, at that moment, turned into vivid bone and flesh in front of me. And how alienated have we been from the real nature that has always encircled us? We are not far from thinking the fish photo on the menu is a close likeness, especially those in a sushi shop.

3.

When I thought that that was it, I was wrong; what was the next room was nothing less than what I had seen. There emerged a larger fish tank. A ray with funnily protruding eyes swam, pressing the glass so it looked even closer to me. And a still larger, indeed incredibly large, fish, as wide as several adult’s height, swam casually across the curved glass wall, near the surface of water. Everyone exclaimed in earnest awe, in respective language. It was a whale shark. Now I just laughed at myself for just having considered those sea basses to be large. Furthermore, a dented canopy enabled people to directly look, under it, the whale sharks from below, and to examine its fins and abdomen closely, which could be frightening. And at 1 and half, a diver went into the tank to shot, in real-time, video of the sea creatures, and the scene was showed on a screen.

4.

Not in their genuine home, they must have required great care by the staff. We were still not sure what they eat, the written notes said. The staff even had the female whale sharks taken the ultrasound scan — with help by Taiwanese researchers — when it was about to give birth to baby sharks. Nevertheless, they must find the tank (or perhaps the bowl?) to be, unfortunately, depressingly small, barely possible to let them turn around as recklessly as in the ocean, though the tank has been recognized officially as one of the largest in the world. What must the whale sharks have been going in the sea? They were to plunge merrily, I guessed, once they felt like it, towards the deep of sea, into pure blackness, which the mankind perceived to be void, and again to rise onto the surface of water in no time.

5.

Beside the main fish tank, there were miscellaneous tanks that showed deep sea creatures. That was made possible by specially designed device that exert extra pressure, as explained on a plaque. The lobsters were big as an adult’s chest. The jellyfish, glowing under the ultraviolet light, must be eating something eerily by wielding many of its tentacles. And the flashlightfish, in the darkness, could only be recognized by with its fluorescent stripe. In the souvenir store I bought a shirt which the iconic whale shark was painted on, in the hope that the trifle amount of money would help the whale shark keep living at its ease.

6.

Thinking it was possible to go into the aquarium again, I felt like that was enough, and followed my whim to go to the plant gardens as promised on the brochure. Beside the Aquarium building, there were several pools for manatees, and several for sea turtles. A dolphin show, the moment I passed by, had just ended. Southwards there were more butterflies and bees, and tropical plants with prickling leaves, and crows’ caw could be heard. I was a little disappointed as there seemed to be no plant garden arranged with the same quality as the Aquarium was, or perhaps they were a reasonable distance away. But the bus schedule was awkward: The last one was to arrive here at 17:15, and it was now about 3 and half. Fearing that the bus time might be unpredictable, I decided, by almost at 4 o’clock, that I go back to wait for the returning bus. When I did, it soon came and I got on, calling it a day.

7.

By now I had had nothing impressive, except an Onigiri bought in the morning by the Naha terminal station, and a shabby Soba-noodle in a stand by the Aquarium, so I was really hungry. After going back to the hotel and rested for a moment, I found it was already 8 o’clock, and what was still opening might only be Izakaya-bars. Speaking of those, it was curious that the area, reading Maejima (前島) on the map, seemed right at the center of the aggregation of Izakaya-bars: there were more than a dozen within walking distance. I crossed a street to go into the nearest one, “海のちんぼらぁ”, judging from the fact that it was marked 4-star on Google Maps. The staff welcomed me to a low wooden seat, near the bar adorned with seashells; there, through the glass window of the open-kitchen, fish slices could be seen, on which diligently-working cooks worked in front of me. I ordered a dish of rice fried with fish shreds and served with sea urchin. Orion Beer could be refilled free, as seemed to be the norm. I felt a tad estranged by typing on my laptop alone here, for, as I could tell from the surrounding, the very place served usually for gatherings of business people and friends alike. I ordered another soy-sauce-stewed fish, and it tasted certainly like one of the best stewed fish I ever had had. The fish was cooked just to the right point, contrasted in taste by the bitter but smooth-flavored Orion beer. I would sign in my Google account to rate a five-star for the inconspicuous bar — I told the cook. But the fish alone cost some 1400 yen, and this number ought to be forgotten.

Solitude Vacation in Okinawa (1/4)

(Note: This blog was created on July 25, 2019, and this was the first post.)

Day 1: July 8

1.

The first time I travel in some 4 years, and in fact the first time I travel alone, I was going to Okinawa for a short 4-day (3-night) vacation. Today I was impressed by the MRT Airport Line when getting to the airport, and by the electronic, simplified boarding procedure. The Eva Air flight was smooth, and took a little more than 1 hour from Taoyuan to Naha. Upon landing it was incredibly straightforward, given the Kanji obvious in meaning, to figure out how to transfer, by means of local monorail, to the Miebashi Station (美栄橋駅) near where I was to dwell for the next 3 nights. Along the neatly arranged blocks and traffic lights, markedly different from those in Taiwan, I was able to get to the hotel with little effort, by following Google Maps—thanks to the very affordable roaming plan of local mobile company Docomo, about 300 NTD each day in price. The Smile Hotel Okinawa where I stayed, marked 3 stars on Google, was tidy and equipped with most necessities, while only costing about 2-thousand NTD per night.

From my hotel I returned to Miebashi Station to meet a friend of mine, Fang-Yi; it was a 20-minute walk. The street was full of Izakaya-bars and Yakiniku-grill restaurants, and of chained retail stores (the most pervasive is “Lawson”) still open late, including the familiar Family-Mart. By 9 o’clock—it was nominally 1 hour later than Taipei here—I saw Fang-Yi by the Station. She came to Okinawa too, together with another friend of ours, Pei-Lin. Though technically staying in Okinawa in the same interval of time, except this evening we were not to meet, for reason totally unnecessary (and uninteresting, I must add) to elaborate. Pei-Lin was in a non-ideal position to have to work to meet the deadline while on a long-planned vacation, whom let us earnestly bless and pass over in silence. Instead let us notice, in front of us, the first place of interest I was to encounter today (but not my friend, who had been a seasoned traveler of Japan)—The International Street (国際通り). From the direction of radiant lights from shop signs, here lay a variety of shops and restaurants.

3.

The very first eye catching thing was the glassware, a feature in Okinawa. I purchased a spiral-curved glass cup of deep blue that looked attractive. That was probably because the cup resembled, and was named after, the Blue Cave (青の洞窟), where I was not about going to, since it was too cumbersome, I guess, to swim or snorkel alone, and tiresome too—the very vacation, to me, was meant to relax. I also bought a case of Sablé cookie, made with the featured salt of Chitan (北谷), to treat fellow Lab students, in support of the excuse for the fact that I was absent. Besides food, cosmetic shops were also said to be a must visit, for your information. There were dubiously-looking masks purported to be made in volcano dust, and shampoo containing honey. And Merlion-like lion figures explained on the note in problematic English. What I did not bought: the curious looking Caulerpa lentillifera (海ぶどう), crunchy and rather salty in taste. What I did bought: cheap packs dried seaweed, the chilies dipped in wine (though it turns out I would not be able to pass that in custom), and cured fish. Food made up the most practical gifts.

4.

Fang-Yi and I walked westward along the street, and encountered a Ramen shop called “康竜”. I ordered a (I guess) soy-sauce flavored Ramen simply called “Ramen”, served with rice with raw yolk. It was (as was expected) salty, but good. We commented on the nature of Japanese language, as well as other language learning experience—though I was ashamed to admit that I had almost forgotten anything German I had learnt several years ago, and my understanding of Japanese was restricted on Duolingo’s Level-One lessons taken several days ago. I shared a recent enlightenment of personal nature, that, in every language, a sentence is such an entity organized of, let us say, “content words” and “function words”, where function words add redundancy—drawing analogy from study of error correction codes—so that the relationship between content words can be made clear and resist from misreading and mishearing. And Japanese is particularly unusual in this regard, as it adopts two writing systems, Kana and Kanji. Kana’s exhibit inflection (in the wider sense), wile Kanji’s do not (and could not). We talked a lot, and were in good mood. Having gone back to the monorail station I parted my friend, and wished them two well. Since I planned to catch an early bus to yonder Churaumi Aquarium in the north of the tropical island, but had already spent an hour and half writing (only to find my English rusty), I had better sleep now.

Macroscopic and microscopic randomness

Random variables, it would seem, arise in two contexts. According to quantum mechanics, the collapse of wave function produces truly random outcomes, for which recall that Bell’s inequality disallows hidden variable theory. Let us call for convenience that quantum systems are first-kind-random.

But what is the nature of macroscopic random events? Let us say we roll a die. The angle by which the die rotates, the slightest perturbation of dust, the rough surface it lands on, are all random variables, and they are so random that the point of die observes uniform distribution. Still, it is possible to consider the system as completely deterministic. Classical mechanics describes the evolution of system in the phase space. Chaos theory suggests that deterministic systems may be able to produce seemingly random results. Let us call them second-kind-random.

It is then inevitable to conclude that, strangely, somehow the first-kind-randomness generates the second-kind-randomness. The reason might be the central limit theorem. Also, the (strong) law of large numbers follows almost surely.

On the other hand, the second-kind-randomness in turn simulates the first-kind-randomness. As an example, the distribution of prime numbers is deterministic, yet they resemble a normal distribution (or converge in distribution). In fact, this is what I think mathematics does. The probability theory—classical or measure theoretical—does not rule out a completely static interpretation. The event space is just a static collection of outcomes. The expectation is just an integration, be it Lebesgue, Riemann, or other definition. The theory of probability is no doubt rigorous in logic, but the very core concept that lies in it—the probability—lies only in our heart. We have defined everything in a very sound manner, except the most crucial one: what randomness is. Maybe we shall never know. Maybe they are something we see everyday, but cannot be said.