Not for the faint of art. |
Complex Numbers A complex number is expressed in the standard form a + bi, where a and b are real numbers and i is defined by i^2 = -1 (that is, i is the square root of -1). For example, 3 + 2i is a complex number. The bi term is often referred to as an imaginary number (though this may be misleading, as it is no more "imaginary" than the symbolic abstractions we know as the "real" numbers). Thus, every complex number has a real part, a, and an imaginary part, bi. Complex numbers are often represented on a graph known as the "complex plane," where the horizontal axis represents the infinity of real numbers, and the vertical axis represents the infinity of imaginary numbers. Thus, each complex number has a unique representation on the complex plane: some closer to real; others, more imaginary. If a = b, the number is equal parts real and imaginary. Very simple transformations applied to numbers in the complex plane can lead to fractal structures of enormous intricacy and astonishing beauty. |
Well, here's Valentine's Day. My plan is to spend the evening with my one true love: beer. I'll be doing this at a taphouse (or maybe two), in hopes of eavesdropping on a horrible Valentine's Day couples breakup. I'm easily amused and have a penchant for schadenfreude. Anyway, this means I can't swear I'll do my usual early-morning update tomorrow. Meanwhile, I found an interesting article about some differences between Anglic and French cultures. It also seems oddly appropriate for Valentine's Day. http://www.bbc.com/travel/story/20181104-why-the-french-dont-show-excitement Why the French don't show excitement Not only is âJe suis excitĂ©â not the appropriate way to convey excitement in French, but there seems to be no real way to express it at all. By Emily Monaco From the name alone, I'm just going to trust her observations of the differences in cultural approaches. âYou Americans,â he said, âlive in the faire [to do]. The avoir [to have]. In France, we live in the ĂȘtre [to be].â Infinitives as cultural signposts. I like it. I knew before moving that the French word âexcitĂ©â was verboten. It is one of the first âfalse friendsâ that a student of the language becomes aware of. Most French learners can recall the day that a classmate first uttered the phrase âJe suis excitĂ©â (which literally translates as âI am excitedâ) only to have their teacher hem and haw uncomfortably before explaining that the word excitĂ© doesnât signal emotional but rather physical excitement. A better translation of the phrase Je suis excitĂ© into English would be âI am arousedâ. See, that's exactly the kind of thing I need to know before I attempt to ply my halting French on someone from a Francophone country. Anglophones, meanwhile, blessed with both words, are free to use âexcitedâ as we please â which we (particularly Americans) do with reckless abandon. Weâre excited for our weekend plans, for the summer holiday, to get home after a long day of work and relax in front of our favourite Netflix show. I'm not sure I've ever constructed the sentence "I am excited" in casual conversation. Even in English, it leaves open the possibility of a double entendre, much like "I'm coming" or "It's not hard." With the crowd I hang out with, I'm careful not to leave myself open to that sort of thing, nor to pronounce the name of the planet that orbits between Saturn and Neptune. Some jokes are just too easy; I prefer to make people work for their puns. Sadly, this means that I have actually uttered the sentence, "I'm totally psyched." And then I wince inwardly every time. âI usually say âJe suis heureuseâ [âIâm happyâ] or âJâai hĂąte deâ [âIâm looking forward toâ],â one bilingual friend said. Neither quite captures the intensity of excitement, but it seems these are the best substitutes that French has to offer. In the course of learning French so far, I've encountered a few synonyms, or apparent synonyms. For example (par exemple), "student" can be translated into French as, at a minimum, Ă©tudiant or Ă©lĂšve (with variations for gender and number). I suspect that there's a difference, subtle or not, between the two, but I haven't figured out what it is, yet. Older student / younger student, maybe, as with the English "pupil?" Anyway, point is, the first word I learned for "happy" was content (pronounced in the French way with the swallowed 'n's). The second was heureux (f. heureuse as above). Again, I don't know what the actual difference is, but it seems to me that the french "Je suis content" expresses something more similar to the English "I am content," regardless of the overenthusiastic helpful illustrations on Duolingo. Being content isn't really the same as being happy, but then, as far as I know, the French never put "pursuit of contentedness" into the founding documents of their republique. So, what I'm getting at is, I don't know why the author left that particular synonym out of her discussion. âIf youâre too happy in French, weâre kind of wondering whatâs wrong with you,â he said. âBut in English, thatâs not true.â I have a suspicion that many French spend their ample leisure time wondering what's wrong with Anglophones in general, even while contentedly selling us their tasty cheeses and delicious wines. Indeed, those who are unable to show the proper emotional detachment within French society can even be perceived as being somehow deranged... You might say that they think they're... *puts on sunglasses* in Seine. When we were first dating, my husband used to watch me buzzing around like a busy bee, making plans for the future. He, meanwhile, was able to find not excitement, but contentment, in nearly everything. There's that word - the English version, anyway. His frequent motto, whether we were drinking rosĂ© in the sunshine or just sitting in a park, was: âon est bien, lĂ â â we are good, here. You know, I might just have to steal that for myself, especially when I'm three beers into a bender. Like maybe tonight. |