Random Thoughts

Dear Awareness People:

Shut the F......... (1) I'm begging you.

I already have more than enough to be aware of. Even more than I'm aware of. 

You try walking around Manhattan unaware. You won't be walking for long. Nope, there will be the usual horde of coked-up delivery guy lunatics whizzing around on bikes (sidewalks only, please) just praying for the opportunity to be the first to run you over. 

Stephen W Hawking actually wrote me a letter in response to one I sent him (actually I think it was an email) while in hindsight it was very likely to have been written by a functionary for him or the like it was still nice.  At about the same time I sent a message to someone at Fermilab and got a response which they posted to their website and kept there ever since.  Which I consider to be a distinct honor as it was either the first or one of the first such questions (and alone the lines of something people must think of from time to time if they know a little physics.) 
Yesterday over 50 million Italian citizens were called to voted to elect the new government, after a rather tense period of political campaign. And today the results are out, yielding a quite confusing picture, at least for what concerns the chances of forming a coalition with a majority in both chambers.

I was born and have lived in Venice for over 51 years now (omitting to mention some 2 years of interruption when I worked for Harvard University, 18 years ago), but this has come to an end on December 31st, when I concluded a rather complex move to Padova, 35 kilometers west. 
Venice is a wonderful city and quite a special place, if you ask me. A city with a millenary history, crammed with magnificent palaces and churches. A place where one could write a book about every stone. Walking through the maze of narrow streets or making one's way through a tight network of canals is an unforgettable experience, but living there for decades is something else - it makes you a part of it. I feel I own the place, in some way. So why did I leave it?
A comment under "Relevance Of Race And G Factor Over Social Darwinism In China And General" showed me again that also many smart Science2.0 readers, even those who read me for years, cannot understand that there is more than either progressive science deniers or Jew gassing Nazis, but Science2.0 castrated the comment system for some reason, by pure coincidence during the great 2016/17 shuttering of free speech to rescue freedom.
These are remarks to the article "Game Theory on Race Mixed Society turning Lawless"
A general trigger warning I will link to in some future articles:

The following text is quite likely disturbing. Relax and be assured about that this is so because you are evolved and shaped to perceive as required to function in certain social structures. I know, you are afraid, about that evil people take over and threaten your existence, those others that you cannot understand how it could be that they are like they are. I understand why you are the way you are:
Sing a Song of Politics

I was testing my memory, trying to remember things that I learned way back when I was a small kid, and I realised that my most intense memories are of or related to poems and songs.

I seem to remember it was Ogden Nash who wrote this little ditty during the early years of the cold war:

Rock of ages, cleft for me
 Let me hide myself in thee.
When the bombers thunder past,
 Shelter me from fire and blast.
And, though they say all men are brothers
  Let the fallout fall on others.

How many songs can you remember from your childhood?
My activity as a chessplayer has seen a steady decline in the past three years, due to overwhelming work obligations. To play in chess tournaments at a decent level, you not only need to be physically fit and well trained for the occasion, but also have your mind free from other thoughts. Alas, I have been failing miserably in the second and third of the above requirements. So I have essentially retired from competitive chess, and my only connection to the chess world is through the occasional 5-minute blitz game over the internet.
In 1952 my uncle Antonio, then 18 years old, left his family home in Venice, Italy to never return, running away from the humiliation of a failure at school. With a friend he reached the border with France and crossed it during the night, chased by border patrols and wolves. Caught by the French police Toni - that was the abbreviated name with which was known by everybody - was offered a choice: be sent back to Italy, facing three months of jail, or enrol in the French legion. Afraid of the humiliation and the consequences, he tragically chose the latter.