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Learning with the Scientific Method

Sir Francis Bacon, philosopher, scientist, Attorney General, and Lord Chancellor of England for James the First

Where does science come from? The best answer I can give is the funny-looking, pasty-faced English dude pictured above. Frankie not only emphasized the scientific method, but he personally started the scientific blossoming of Elizabethan times, and he may have recruited whoever the heck became the greatest writer who ever lived, William Shakespeare. He believed in verifying what you know to be true by experiment, verifying the veracity of each fact by repeating the experiment, peer reviewing the results again and again, and working out results with verifiable mathematical descriptions.

Sir Isaac Newton, a natural philosopher that formulated the principles of Mechanics in his book, Philosophiæ Naturalis Principia Mathematica (Mathematical Principles of Natural Philosophy) thus setting off the greater conflagration of intellectual fire that became the Scientific Revolution.

Sir Izzy was a scientific genius who made his mark not only as a scientist but also as a mathematician, physicist, astronomer, alchemist, theologian, and author who was described in his time as a natural philosopher (meaning he studied nature and physics in the physical universe through observation and experiment.) You probably think of him as the guy sitting under the apple tree when an apple bonked his noggin, making him suddenly shout, “Aha!!! Gravity!!!” Which makes you look simple. That, of course, means, “stupid” to overthinking brainiacs like me who routinely think so hard about things that brain stew in our stupid heads begins to boil and make smoke come out of our ears whenever we think about Sir Izzy. So, stop laughing at me and realize… it is more complicated than that.

Sir Izzy used the Scientific Method by collecting a bunch of facts that were observed in experiments or proven by applying mathematical interpretations to measured data. He came up with some re-observable and re-provable data for which he would need a unifying theory.

Sir Izzy obviously was aware, as was anybody who ever dropped an apple, that apples fall down. He didn’t actually get bonked to conclude that. But he did relate that fact to the question about why the Moon did not fall to the ground on Earth in a similar (though disastrous) fashion. He assumed that it would fall down similarly to the apple if it were not also moving forward across the sky. In fact, the Moon was falling to the Earth. Though not fast enough to actually fall all the way to Earth because it was moving around the curvature of the Earth as it fell. In other words, it fell into a stable orbit. Sir Izzy could prove this through careful measurements and mathematical formulas. (He had previously invented calculus, though he shared credit with the German mathematician Liebnitz for the creation of calculus even though he had invented it many months earlier than Liebnitz. To be fair, Liebnitz had also developed it independently almost simultaneously and with no knowledge of Newton’s invention.)

Newton could now draw a line around all these facts and unify them under the set name of The Theory of Gravity.

Now a theory can be disproven, and scientists work together regularly to disprove all theories. The Theory of Gravity has never yet been disproven, and will probably not be disproven unless some really drastic changes happen to the universe.

But even with a proven theory, numerous anomalies can occur causing a need for larger, more inclusive theories to be created. A star like the fact that Black Holes Exist does not fit in the circle I have drawn to represent the Theory of Gravity in the illustration above. That little yellow star would have to go outside the circle in the above representation. A new bigger circle needs to be drawn.

Albert Einstein, a Nobel Prize Winner, created The Theory of Special Relativity.

Our mischief-making friend above used the Scientific Method to create a bigger circle to include many new stars that the Science of Physics provided. He devised an astronomical experiment to prove that the gravity of a large enough material body can warp the path that light takes. He chose a distant star that could be measured against the Sun in that it was observed to be very close to being obscured behind the Sun when the telescope photographed it in January. If the Sun’s mass could not bend the path of the star’s light, the star would be behind the Sun when they attempted to photograph it on the other side, six months later in July. But our boy Albie calculated that the Sun would bend the starlight with its massive gravity and they would be able to photograph it on the other side. The photograph of the visible star was proof that Einstein’s new theory was correct. And the experiment was redone more than once since proof of a theory has to be repeatable. The Theory of Special Relativity also leads to conclusions through observation and math about how traveling at the speed of light expands time, how black holes can be created by dying stars, and the speed of light is a constant throughout the universe.

The Scientific Method is a thinking tool that has helped mankind to do all kinds of wonderful and magical things. Unfortunately, it has also made Elon Musk rich and Mark Zuckerberg appear almost human. But it is a key to learning and something that schools need to teach everyone.

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Rainy Saturday Blues (a poem about depression )

Blue Dawn

I must make a confession about crippling depression,

Cause today I have the blues.

It requires a concession of time for regression,

And dark days enveloping all views.

There is no progression in a working profession,

Cause clouds leave me missing all news.

I start the procession of blue notes in session,

And all melodies tend to be blues.

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Fantasia

Mickey

I learned a lot of what I know about cartooning by copying Disney characters.  Now, I know that this post could potentially get me into trouble, because  I am posting on a blog I use for marketing, an imitation Disney character, a very famous and very copyrighted character.  Disney has been known to sue school districts for showing Disney movies in class without expressed written permission.  They have become cruelly litigious since transforming from Uncle Walt’s Wonderful World of Color into an evil multi-national corporate media empire whose spokesperson is a mouse.  So I beg you to pardon my transgressions due to love and debt I have to the work in the title of this piece.  Consider this fan art, like the pictures I posted of the Phantom and Captain America (who is also now owned by Disney).

Fantasia is for me the Book of Life.

The movie starts with Bach’s masterpiece, Toccata and Fugue in D Minor This amazing piece reminds me of earliest childhood memories.  It begins with sound and the instruments that make it, becoming shapes and lines and movements and, eventually cloud forms.  It is the beginning of perception, like modern art itself, the raw energy and emerging forms that I began to perceive as an infant, but could not define or distinguish clearly.

Next comes  Nutcracker Suite by Pyotr Ilyich Tchaikovsky.  This is the explorations of nature and the magic of existence as a mere child.  It uses Tchaikovsky’s sugar-plum ballet music to depict hours of play and learning and investigation and wonder.  In it I see myself as a young child, viewing all the color and beauty through wide eyes.

Then comes The Sorcerer’s Apprentice by Paul Dukas.  In this piece, the child in me, like Mickey the apprentice, for the first time bites off more than I could chew.  I overstep my protective boundaries and get myself into a serious fix that has to be undone by the parent stepping in at the end, and not only fixing it, but delivering the consequences to my ignorant behind with a broom.  Of course, we all know I will do it again.  Every child does.  But next time I will get it right.

This is followed by Rite of Spring by Igor Stravinsky.  Here the child is child no longer.  I watch the amoeba become dinosaurs to harsh and dissonant music.  I learn about the world, growing and evolving, finding out that life is full of hard lessons.  Life and Death play out there struggle, and the learning concludes when you reached the parched and hopeless climax, the realization that everything, no matter how big or powerful, ends in death and failure.  Dust returns to dust.

The film then blossoms into The Pastoral Symphony by Ludwig van Beethoven.  This mythical landscape of cute cherubs and satyrs, bare-breasted centaurettes, and Greek Gods rendered in pastel hues represents the blooming of romance, lust, and love.  There is celebration, complete with Dionysus and his invention, wine.  There is courtship, attraction, and bonding.  When the cherubs pull the curtain closed on the centaur couple, we also know what is happening behind the curtain even if it weren’t for the cherub whose butt becomes a red heart.  And, of course, there is a great storm that comes along, both in the pastoral music and the action of the cartoon, representing the volatility and strife that occurs when we dare to love another.  It does, however, subside for life to continue refreshed.

Disney centaur 2

The next piece is  Dance of the Hours by Amilcare Ponchielli.  This comedy of ballerina ostriches and hippos, bubble-dancing elephants, and aggressively dancing gators, is the domestic, married life.  It is a comedy of graceful awkwardness, beauty and humor rolled into the same cake and cooked with irony and wit.  And, of course, just like real life, everything is eventually carried away by the wind… until the next dance.

And finally, Night on Bald Mountain by Modest Mussorgsky and Ave Maria by Franz Schubert is the end of life.  First comes the pain and suffering of death, ruled over by Chernabog the Devil.  He commands the torture and heartless ritual that I am subject to even now, in the twilight of life.  The flesh and the bones yield to his trans-formative whims.  We must all dance to his music until the striking of dawn.  Then he is defeated and the spirit soars, free of body and definable form to the rousing strains of Ave Maria.  We journey through the cathedral forest towards the everlasting light, and the movie, like my life, will be done.  But I do not despair, because life, like the movie itself, can be endlessly replayed and is eternal.

I was not able to see this movie for the first time until college, attending a screening at Iowa State.  When it came out on VHS in the 80’s, I bought two, one to keep and store safely, unopened, and one to watch until it fell apart.  I also bought the DVD when it came out with Fantasia 2000.  I cannot count how many times I have seen this movie.  I even showed it to my classes as I was about to retire, and didn’t secure written permission.  But it was only this week, feeling ill and terribly mortal again that I realized… Fantasia tells the story of my life.

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What AI is Doing to My Artwork

Valerie Clarke, the main novel character, has yellow sunshine paint on her face from the happiness painting session with the child she babysat, Troy Zeffer, six years old. Seen above as re-rendered with the aid of AI Mirror. Below is the original pen and ink and colored pencil rendering.

Sherry Cobble is one of two twin sisters, both nudists, who are the main characters in a secondary position in more than one novel. Seen above drawn only with colored pencils. Below, that picture is re-rendered with the aid of AI Mirror.

Bree, above, was rendered with digital art tools on Digital Drawing Pad app. Then redrawn with AI Mirror. On investigation, I learned the original Instagram model was also generated with AI.

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Tinfoil Hats

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image from morettafra.altervista.org

I have, over time, become something of a nut over conspiracy theories.  My family jokes about me to friends and relatives… and people we don’t know that overhear me in restaurants.    Okay, I admit it.  I believe in some pretty loony things that I repeatedly search out on the internet.  I suppose it can all be traced back to college speech class where I gave a serious informative speech about why vampires are real, and the evidence (pre-internet loony-bin sites) from library books about nosferatus and the vampire of Croglin Grange.  The speech teacher told me he would’ve failed me for the class, except I was too entertaining.  Saved by a fool’s inherent comedy value.

The internet has proved to be a real boost to my addiction with its plethora of fake UFO pictures and New World Order/ Illuminati conspiracies.  I am caught up in so many things it worries me.  Of course, I will lie and say I am researching for my fiction.  I write humor, and thus require large amounts of otherwise useless trivia to fuel my extended puns, over-blown metaphors, and purple paisley prose.  I also like to write about clown characters; evil-hearted old men with lies too unbelievable to cause disbelief, fools who believe the fantastically foolish things that all fools believe, slapstick jokers whose pranks land them in the middle of demonic possessions and alien invasions, and gullible goofs who  end up sounding just like me.  Any excuse in a storm of protests, right?

Here’s what I believe in the terms I can best defend it;

  1.  John Kennedy was killed by a conspiracy that probably included E. Howard Hunt, George H.W. Bush, and J. Edgar Hoover.  There was obviously at least one extra shooter.  There was a cover-up that at the very least included covering up gross incompetence.  At the very worst, he was executed by rogue elements of our own government that may still hold power.  Of course, most of the “experts” that give you the facts for your puzzling-efforts make their living off conspiracy theories and the books they can sell.  Especially the books they can sell to gullible goofs who accept what they read as worth consideration.  Some of the information comes by way of various investigators and prosecutors that became mentally unbalanced to the point of pursuing things to the degree that it destroyed their careers.
  2. Aliens did crash in the Roswell, New Mexico area, and the U.S. Government did recover wreckage which was then back-engineered.  I have seen and heard enough evidence to know that the truth has been suppressed since 1947, and there are cracks in the government’s armor, and holes in the government’s collecting sacks.  The truth is probably far more mundane and harmless than all of this sounds, because, seriously, if aliens wanted to take the Earth away from us, what could stop them?  They have technology that can cross interstellar space.   All we have is bad science fiction by gullible goofs like me.
  3. The 9/11 Truthers worry me.  I know there’s a lot of bad science there.  A lot of shysters and hucksters play on peoples’ fears and anti-government sentiments.  But the truth is… I do not believe those planes brought down the twin towers.  And they certainly didn’t bring down the World Trade Center 7 building that wasn’t even hit by a plane.    I don’t want to believe it, but those buildings did fall exactly like a controlled demolition.  Concrete and steel designed to withstand a hit from a 747, and yet they were pulverized, and the debris burned for a month?  The implications are horrible.  Somebody should be in jail by now.
  4. The Illuminati are not real… at least not any more.  The New World Order, the Bilderburgers, the Tri-lateral Commission, the Knights Templar, and the Free Masons are only dangerous in the minds of paranoid people who listen to B.S, salesmen like Alex Jones and Jim Fetzer.
  5. There are no lizard men from outer space masquerading as world leaders.  Thank you David Icke for that amusing tidbit.
  6. Nikola Tesla did not send the USS Eldridge through a black hole in 1943 while trying to make it invisible.

So now you see why my family makes fun of me.  I recently saw a UFO over Carrollton in the Dallas-Fort Worth area.  It was box shaped, and floated silently.  A military-looking jet approached,  and it suddenly disappeared.  It was the first UFO I ever saw.  My oldest son saw it too.  And I am only too well aware that UFO means UNIDENTIFIED flying object.  My government knows what it is.  They just aren’t telling the rest of us.   

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Alien girls dancing to Mickey Mouse Club music in my book, Catch a Falling Star.

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Monkey Mathematics

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(colored pencil, pen, & ink – entitled “Math Monkey” – by Leah Cim Reyeb (my name backwards))

It has been said that if you have an infinite number of monkeys with an infinite number of typewriters, and unlimited time, they will reproduce all the works of William Shakespeare.  Not only that, they will produce every other work of literature in every language on Earth that has ever been written… and that ever will be written, for all time.  Not only that, but every version of Hamlet that has one misspelled word, two misspelled words, three misspelled words… and so on to infinity.

I was having an argument recently with a boy from Brazil who insisted there was no God and Creator.  He claims to be an agnostic, but argues like an atheist.  He was trying to “save” me from my erroneous belief that there is an underlying intelligence and purpose to all of creation.  His intentions were good, but he failed to convince me before sailing off back to Sao Paulo.  Alas, I am unrelentingly still convinced that I am not wrong, as he apparently believed all school teachers are by definition.  Yes, it is written that way in the teenager’s guide to life, the universe, and everything.  “Teachers are clueless and only teach you the wrong stuff” – page two hundred and three, in Chapter Twelve, Adults are Always Wrong.  And, of course, I’m blaming it on the monkeys.  It’s always those danged monkeys and their typewriters.

I tried to explain that the whole infinite-monkeys thing is based on flawed math.  After all, math was invented by enraged Greeks who danced around naked in caves worshiping circles, squares, and right triangles.  Pythagoras must’ve really hated school kids.  He gave them all this froo-frah to learn about whole numbers, integers, algebra, and geometry and stuff, and then threw in theorems and equations to give them something to mind-numbingly practice at their desks in Math classes until they were no different from infinite-monkey typists. 

If you take a pile of bricks up to the top of a mountain and then throw them off, even if you throw them an infinite number of times, how often will they actually land in the configuration of the Parthenon?  …And the Parthenon with one brick out of place, and then two bricks, and …wasn’t the gol-danged Parthenon carved out of marble, not bricks?  If you believe all of reality is based on random chance, then you obviously are figuring that out with infinite-monkey math.  I’m not saying the Theory of Evolution is wrong.  That is ordered and principled in ways that fit Occam’s Razor and is probably just as correct as the Theory of Gravity (which we don’t fully understand, either, yet we don’t go flying off into space with each rotation of the Earth).

“Wait a minute!” screams the head monkey.  “Are you saying you believe in Evolution, or in Creation?”   (I am constantly hearing nearly-infinite monkeys screaming that nowadays.)

Shoot, I think both things are true.  You can’t deny what science offers proof for, fact or theory.  Yet, God speaks to me and comforts me, even though he doesn’t actually answer prayers.  The evidence of God is in all that he created, including the process of evolution, the monkeys, the typewriters (well… man-made is made by God too if he created man with inventive capabilities, right?), and even the voices in my silly head that I interpret as God talking.  Am I guilty of Infinite-monkey math?  I try not to be.  But I also try not to argue with Brazilian teenage agnostics about the existence of God.  Oh, well… can’t win ‘em all.

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Teacher! Ooh-Ooh! Teacher!

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I have the privilege of being a public school teacher.  Or maybe I should use the word “cursed”.   It is no easy thing to be a teacher in the modern world.  Regressive State governments like Texas mandate that teachers do more with less.  We have to have bigger classes.  We have to show higher gains on State tests.  We have to do more for special populations based on race, disability, language-learner status, and socio-economic status.  Of course, we give money to private schools to be “fair” to all, so a majority of the well-funded and advantaged students are removed from the public school system, even though studies show that their presence in classes benefits everyone.  When the majority of students are low-income in a single classroom, even the gifted minority perform less well.  When higher-income students are at least fifty per-cent of the class, then even the low-income and learning disabled make higher gains than the minority gifted in the first example class.  So, there’s my triple-downer bummer for this post.  You might think that I would agree with Republicans in this State that the lower classes are not worth investing in.  Nothing could be further from the truth.

The fact is, my fondest memories from thirty-one years as a public school teacher come from the downtrodden masses, the poor, the oddballs, the disadvantaged, and even the truly weird.

Okay, so here’s the funny and heart-warming part.  I have a Hispanic English Language Learner right now who looks at the beard I have grown and calls me, “my friend Jesus”.  I have to constantly remind him that, “If I were the son of God, my son, then I would be using lightning bolts for discipline a little more often.”  He grins at me and answers, “Yes, my Jesus.”  He’s a sneaky sort, more dedicated to games and messages on his i-phone than learning.  He is more into working with the girls in small groups so that he can come out appearing much smarter without putting out very much actual work.

I remember one particularly challenged boy who didn’t talk in class at all.  He could make sounds, however.  Constantly during classes with this student in them, there would be numerous “meows” and birdcalls.  Grunts and groans and whistles would fill the air.  Most of the noises came from him.  The ones that didn’t, came from those who imitated him.  It reached a point that I was having to teach a classroom full of Harpo Marxes .  When asked about it, he claimed he had a sore throat all the time and just couldn’t talk.  Many of his teachers thought he was merely sabotaging class so he wouldn’t have to do any work.  But just like when you put a harp in front of Harpo, this boy had hidden talents, and just was not being engaged on his own level.  He was really quite bright if you could learn to communicate with him in Harpo Marxian.

I had another student who read all the existing Harry Potter books forward and backwards, and inside out.  He even looked like the actor who played Harry in the movies, glasses and all.  He was treated like a radioactive being by his classmates, and although he was charming and funny and had a natural talent for manga-style drawings of people, nobody seemed to treat him like a friend. (The paffooney picture I drew for this post was inspired by him.)    He was a jovial loner.  I was able to tap into his natural abilities for the Odyssey of the Mind creativity contests we participated in during the early 2000’s.  I helped him find nerd friends who also knew all the words to the Spongebob Squarepants theme. 

I have a Chinese girl in class who shared the Spongebob boy’s fascination with manga-style art.  She’s a different bird all together.  She gets my jokes and thinks I am funny.  But she never laughs.  She never even cracks a smile.  She is so careful and complete in every assignment that it is very nearly painful to watch.  Grades are serious matters to her.  If her grade drops from 100 to 98, she wants to audit the teacher’s grade book to find out why.  She does everything in class in beautifully crafted Chinese writing, and then translates it all word-for-word into English.

I owe my teaching career to kids like these.  When I started my career in 1981 for $11,000 per year, I was employed by a school that had total disciplinary meltdown the year before.  I had to deal with hostility, impossible behavior-modification tasks, fire crackers in the classroom, student fights, bullying, and a language/cultural gap wider than the Grand Canyon.  That first year, I was planning to resign at the end of the year and try to figure out what else I could do with my life when a small Hispanic boy with a Scottish family name came up beside me on the playground one March day and said, “Mr. Beyer, I hope you know you are my favorite teacher.  You are the reason I liked school this year.”

I didn’t let him see that there were tears in my eyes.  I told him something about him being my favorite student.  And I gave up thoughts about giving up.  I lived the next thirty years of my career for him.

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Bicycle Boy in England

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September 28, 2024 · 1:37 am

Things You Probably Ought to Know about Mickey

As Mickey’s go, the one who is writing this is a moderately interesting example of the breed.  Still, there are things you probably ought to be made aware of.  A sort of precautionary thing…

First of all, this particular Mickey is an Iowegian.  That means he comes from Iowa, the State where the tall corn grows.  It is a prime reason why his jokes are corny and his ears have been popped (oh, and he does actually have two, unlike the picture Paffooney where only one is showing).  His fur is not actually purple.  If anything now, it is mostly silver-gray.  But the Paffooney is a magical portrait, and purple is the color of magic.  He has a goofy, and sometimes fatal grin.  You may not be able to prove that he has ever actually grinned someone to death, but it is likely he could always dig somebody up.

Another irrefutable fact about this Mickey, unlike many many Mickeys, is that he used to actually be a public school teacher.  He taught the little buggers for thirty-one years, plus two years as a substitute teacher.  He did twenty-four of those years in middle school… twenty-three of those in one school in South Texas.  His mostly Hispanic students managed to teach him every bad word in Spanglish… err, Texican… err, Tex-Mex… or is it Taco Bell?  Anyway, they taught him every bad word except for the word for cooties… you know, piojos.  He learned that word from an old girl friend.

A despicable thing about him… (you know despicable, right?  It’s that word that Sylvester the cat always uses) is that he actually likes kids.  That’s just not normal for someone who teaches them.  Teachers are supposed to hate kids, aren’t they?  But he never did.  It is true that he yelled at them sometimes, but he never did that because he hated them.  He did that only for fun.  And he actually apologized to kids sometimes when they got into behavioral trouble, because he said it was the teacher’s fault if kids are bad, and, besides, the kids are so surprised by that, that they forget all about the behavior and can be flammoozled into acting good.

The last and most wicked thing you need to know about Mickey is that he cartoons up a storm sometimes.  He loves to draw everything that is wacky and weird.  He has more goofball colored pencil tricks than a Charles Shultz and a Dr. Seuss rolled together in a sticky lump with a George Herriman stuck on top in place of a cherry.  He steals ideas and techniques from other artists and steals jokes from comedians, undertakers, and random juvenile delinquents.  He also puts together lists of wacky oddball details that don’t quite fit together and weaves it into purple paisley prose (somewhere in this whole messy blog thing he has also defined purple paisley prose and how to make it… in case you were curious.)

So there you have it.  The Truth about Mickey.  The sordid, simpering, solitary facts about Mickey.  The straight poop.  (wait a minnit!  How did poop get there?  Not again!  I thought I had cured that!)

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Mermaid In Coral and other Drawings

No, she didn’t lose any fingers to sharks. Those fingers are curled in and I made the shadows too dark.

Girl in the Sand After Climate Change Ends
The Granddaughter of the Girl in the Sand Fifty Years Later
Three Teenagers Confused About How Sex and Nudity Work

The Mermaid Joins the Circus of the Air Breathers

Yes, you can see me getting mileage out of character drawings by changing backgrounds, details, and sometimes faces. It is a shortcut to artwork only possible now with computer software to help, though I did a lot of this too when AI wasn’t available… which, in truth, it still isn’t.

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