Well, today was the day campus had a minimum of crazy. Seeing that, I braced myself. Surely the masses of squishy minds call out, a beacon for candles to lure moths in, burning their intellectual wings. To confirm my suspicions, they arrived. Not as one table but as many, as if to combat the very spirit of Barney Frank residing in the memories of the students. As if on command I texted out to a friend: "Larouches spotted in front of main library". The response back was harrowing: "One on bruinwalk, one by loop". The thought slid through my mind, musing on how many could there possibly be. Nevertheless, I decided to make the time after class to have a chat with them.
First table on Bruinwalk. It has a portrait of Obama with a mustache similar to Adolph Hitler and two posters similar to what I've seen promoted by the Mars Society. That hit a nerve, my sight became hazy. It was not long ago that I presented at the Mars Society, finding the members there to be courteous, driven and genuine. These people, the Larouche's (henceforth referred to as Larouchebags), of whom when I talked with a time before, had not only lost their temper in their weak attempts to refute classical mechanics, now appeared to be exploiting a cause of which I held true to. Seeing my friend by them, actively asking them questions, I walked over and pretended to text while I eavesdropped. Sure enough, one Larouchebag was telling my friend, in an annoyed voice, about "nuclear fusion rockets" that would allow "us" to mine "helium-3" from the moon. Nevermind the lack of abundantly tested mining equipment rated for space, the processes for purifying resources - what the hell is a "nuclear fusion rocket"? As far as I know, fusion is barely at the stage of getting the same amount of energy out as originally put into it. Couple that with funding cuts to the stellarator which was supposed to stabilize a plasma using eight dimensional models and it seems that fusion research has yet another roadblock. The area of plasma physics has had very few innovations in the past decade and there are very few fusion power research papers on the physics arXiv - it is stagnant Jim. According to this particular Larouchebag, if we applied constant force of unknown magnitude, one could get to Mars in five days. He, of course, neglected to mention the manner of slowing down the high velocity object, as well as the energies involved in stopping said craft, which would be immense and must be dissipated over a large period of time. But where did all this BS come from? I had to dig, and guess what? I got all of them to agree that it was from Lydon Larouche himself, do you want to listen to him, by the way? Hell no.
I am getting bored of this conversation, so many undefined terms and ridiculous science fictionesque replies. But my opponent feels he is losing ground. So he accuses me of being pessimistic and one of those people "who wouldn't have made electricity work." I do concede I am pessimistic, but I confront him that stating such does not prove his argument at all for technological development of hitherto unheard of and unproved concepts past current and immediate future technology. Not that it registers - he continues crowing that he "won". Whatever he won, it sure wasn't a brain I decided.
Time for table two and that is it. I am going back home to the house. Once again, similar set up. I let my friend engage one of them, while I play the part of the ignorant public. I ask why is Obama sporting a Hitlerstache to both Larouchebags, which I mention looks not bad at all (baiting Reductio ad Hitlerum, right?). I get accused of being homosexual, as if a man cannot comment on another man's looks, then ignored. Acting confused, I ask why Obama looks like Hitler. I get the response of "Oh, you can figure it out." Declaring that I cannot, I breathe deep and comment in a nonchalant tone that Obama cannot get his political party under control nor can get many acts passed, and that perhaps he is like a President von Hindenburg. The woman there looks blank and admits that my comparison makes more sense. Sensing an opening to a discussion, I ask about the "British Empire" mentioned on the flyers on their table. Despite my enthusiastic pressuring, neither of the tablers could tell me about what or even where the "British Empire" is. When I asked the woman what she thought about the economy, she began a reply with "Larouche thinks..." at which I interrupted her and asked again, "What do you think?"
Again, I got a blank and panicked look. I sighed and bid both of these tablers a farewell. My friend and I walked off. He was grinning - turns out he recorded my earlier conversation with Mr. Fusion in a public place, and knowing that I would not object, kept it focused on me. He could have recorded Mr. Fusion as well, but he didn't want to spook them silent.
That was my productive afternoon.
First table on Bruinwalk. It has a portrait of Obama with a mustache similar to Adolph Hitler and two posters similar to what I've seen promoted by the Mars Society. That hit a nerve, my sight became hazy. It was not long ago that I presented at the Mars Society, finding the members there to be courteous, driven and genuine. These people, the Larouche's (henceforth referred to as Larouchebags), of whom when I talked with a time before, had not only lost their temper in their weak attempts to refute classical mechanics, now appeared to be exploiting a cause of which I held true to. Seeing my friend by them, actively asking them questions, I walked over and pretended to text while I eavesdropped. Sure enough, one Larouchebag was telling my friend, in an annoyed voice, about "nuclear fusion rockets" that would allow "us" to mine "helium-3" from the moon. Nevermind the lack of abundantly tested mining equipment rated for space, the processes for purifying resources - what the hell is a "nuclear fusion rocket"? As far as I know, fusion is barely at the stage of getting the same amount of energy out as originally put into it. Couple that with funding cuts to the stellarator which was supposed to stabilize a plasma using eight dimensional models and it seems that fusion research has yet another roadblock. The area of plasma physics has had very few innovations in the past decade and there are very few fusion power research papers on the physics arXiv - it is stagnant Jim. According to this particular Larouchebag, if we applied constant force of unknown magnitude, one could get to Mars in five days. He, of course, neglected to mention the manner of slowing down the high velocity object, as well as the energies involved in stopping said craft, which would be immense and must be dissipated over a large period of time. But where did all this BS come from? I had to dig, and guess what? I got all of them to agree that it was from Lydon Larouche himself, do you want to listen to him, by the way? Hell no.
I am getting bored of this conversation, so many undefined terms and ridiculous science fictionesque replies. But my opponent feels he is losing ground. So he accuses me of being pessimistic and one of those people "who wouldn't have made electricity work." I do concede I am pessimistic, but I confront him that stating such does not prove his argument at all for technological development of hitherto unheard of and unproved concepts past current and immediate future technology. Not that it registers - he continues crowing that he "won". Whatever he won, it sure wasn't a brain I decided.
Time for table two and that is it. I am going back home to the house. Once again, similar set up. I let my friend engage one of them, while I play the part of the ignorant public. I ask why is Obama sporting a Hitlerstache to both Larouchebags, which I mention looks not bad at all (baiting Reductio ad Hitlerum, right?). I get accused of being homosexual, as if a man cannot comment on another man's looks, then ignored. Acting confused, I ask why Obama looks like Hitler. I get the response of "Oh, you can figure it out." Declaring that I cannot, I breathe deep and comment in a nonchalant tone that Obama cannot get his political party under control nor can get many acts passed, and that perhaps he is like a President von Hindenburg. The woman there looks blank and admits that my comparison makes more sense. Sensing an opening to a discussion, I ask about the "British Empire" mentioned on the flyers on their table. Despite my enthusiastic pressuring, neither of the tablers could tell me about what or even where the "British Empire" is. When I asked the woman what she thought about the economy, she began a reply with "Larouche thinks..." at which I interrupted her and asked again, "What do you think?"
Again, I got a blank and panicked look. I sighed and bid both of these tablers a farewell. My friend and I walked off. He was grinning - turns out he recorded my earlier conversation with Mr. Fusion in a public place, and knowing that I would not object, kept it focused on me. He could have recorded Mr. Fusion as well, but he didn't want to spook them silent.
That was my productive afternoon.
