Skip to main content

A one hundred and fifty day lockdown

You can't have read much of my writings if you do not know that numbers are close to my heart. And today has a big nice round number attached to it. We are all familiar with the Google search engine. Most of us will use it today. The name is a mis-spelling of the name for the number you get when you multiply 10 by 10 one hundred times. The name Googol is the term for that number. For a brief period of time, it was the biggest number with a name.

But after Kasner and Newman came up with that name, they rapidly came up with Googolplex which is the number you get when you multiply 10 by 10 Googol times. We can in our Parliament make the Googol, if not the Googolplex real. There are 129 MSPs. If we allow people to sit randomly in seats, how many possible outcomes are there?

The first person to sit down can choose from 129 available seats. The second person can choose from one less, 128 seats. But the first person left 128 possible arrangements of the remaining seats. So the number of possible choices when these two people sit is, 129 times 128. And so it goes on with the total options being 129 times 128 times 127 .. and so on until it's .. times 3 times 2. Thus we know that the number of options are bigger than a Googol. And we can know that without doing any sums. How?

We know a Googol is 10 times 10 done one hundred times. Think only about the first 100 MSPs to sit down. The choices up to this point are 129 times 128 .. etc .. 31 times 30. So every single one of the first one hundred steps in the calculation uses a number that is bigger than 10. So we know the final answer is bigger, much bigger, than a Googol. I leave you to work out that the final answer is much, much less than a Googolplex. And again no sums are needed.

All of which is about reminding ourselves that maths is simply about thinking.

Today's special number? One hundred and fifty. This diary piece is the 150th in the sequence. And will add to the around one hundred and seventy thousand words which have preceded it.

With Charles Dicken's Tale of Two Cities containing 135,000 words and George Orwell's Animal Farm under a mere 30,000, my diary is now reaching for the upper reaches of literary effort. But much more to the point, the Parliamentary demands on my time are rising sharply. So, the daily effort of between sixty and ninety minutes hitherto devoted to these scrivenings has to be redirected.

I started because of being asked to write a one-off article. It morphed into a daily personal therapy session that helped keep me relatively sane during lock-down. And seems to have been relatively well-received by the several hundred people on my distribution list.

So what next? I have found that writing something book-length is quite straightforward. One does it a bit at a time. And I have a couple of other projects I now intend to pursue away from the public gaze.

But the diary will live on as a twice-weekly account of all things related to my Parliamentary life, or otherwise dragged back into the front of my mind from deeply hidden memories, by it. The plan is to publish for Tuesday morning, before the Parliamentary week really starts, and Friday evening as a reprise to be read over the weekend.

Even that is a temporary form just as the whole enterprise has been since the first day on 19th March. For my move from Holyrood and representative democracy is already twinkling on the horizon and will require a further adjustment in late spring next year. Not just regarding the diary, but many aspects of my day to day life and objectives.

Thank you for reading. But keep reading. Less often. But more words.

That's the first 150 days locked down over.

Much better than 150 days locked up.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Life Behind the Gate

For the first time in many years, the gate into our house is shut. Not to keep us in but to keep others out. I will shortly be going out to put a table in place for delivery drivers to leave parcels. And attaching a few helpful instructions on the other side of the gate. Last night's statement from Nicola and the legislation that is coming shortly from Westminster and Holyrood will create a framework designed to protect us all. Our role as more vulnerable oldsters, whose bodily systems are gently declining as we age, is to protect ourselves from becoming a burden on our health service, our social services. People with serious conditions, whose immune systems are relatively ineffective for whatever reason, sick babies, need to able to get to the front of the queue without people like us who can take action to avoid, or at least postpone catching the bug, getting in the way. Reports coming to me from elsewhere suggest that there is still a minority who may need something a...

Genealogy Series: Betsy (or Elizabeth) Esplin Bell (1858-1930).

Betsy (or Elizabeth) Esplin Bell (1858-1930). She had a long criminal record driven by her addiction to drink, but was she her husband’s victim? by Stewart Stevenson. Betsy was born on 26 th January 1858 in Dundee to David Bell, a carpenter, and his wife, Agnes Sandeman. i  Father registered the birth, but is recorded as “Not Present”. George T Bisset-Smith, the Registration Examiner, published his book “Vital Registration”, the manual for Scottish Registrars in 1907. ii  In it he states that a “liberal interpretation” should be given to the word “Present” in this context but also states that “Not Present” must not be used. I suspect that leaves most genealogists, me included, little the wiser as to what “Present” was actually supposed to mean. So let’s pass on to the story. Betsy’s parents married in 1856, iii  with her mother Agnes making her mark, an ”X”, rather than signing the registration record, indicating that she was illiterate. Her husband David signed. ...

Windy Weather

Yesterday's walk was a little different. A forecast of wind gusts of 42 miles per hour, admittedly under a clear blue sky, suggested choosing a more sheltered route than usual. So a bit shorter, but much harder, my route took me off-road for some of the distance. Two scarves to keep the wind off my ears, and another day encased on long johns, represented something substantially less than high fashion but provided an effective barrier against the wind. A route around the edge of Reidside Moss, our local site of Special Scientific Interest, was a wee bit depressing. The state of this SSSI is short of the ideal. It should be a bog and support a diversity of wildlife. It is rather dry and looks like a scruffy bit of scrub with a near monoculture of whin, broom and grass. But it probably isn't deteriorating because its status at least prevents it being used for anything other than what is. Nature as it once was—a rare patch of land which is not obviously the product of ...