Pulp Fiction, 1954 · page 117 of 133
Astounding Science Fiction (British Edition) — page 117: what you’re looking at
A restored page from Pulp Fiction, 1954. Page through the whole issue in the reader above.
📄 Transcribed text from this page (OCR, searchable)
Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
BRASS TACKS First, a thought is born—or occurs —or finds a mind to think it, if we choose to be metaphysical—depend- ing on the individual’s personal phi- losophy and interpretation of just what thought is. The thought, immedi- ately, is colored by the individual’s previous experiences, and at that instant loses some of its purity. Then comes the mental forging on the anvil of Language—a process which is Aris- totelian to the mth degree: to use or not to use a certain word—and again the thought is changed, mutilated, to a greater or lesser degree. But finally, it makes its way, battle- scarred and scarcely recognizable, to the fingertips of the thinker, and hence from pen or typewriter to paper. Voila! One would think the process would be complete, but sadly, it isn’t. The thinker, foolishly, wants to pass on his thought to others, so through some mysterious process, involving a possible editorial change and with or without an error on the part of the linotype operator and proofreader, it emerges in printed form. Then comes the ultimate reader, whose interpretation of everything he reads is colored by his experiences and the condition of his liver. Naturally, the thought he gleans from the printed page is seldom, if ever, the thought that existed momentarily in the mind of the thinker. In fact, it is exceedingly fortunate if he gets almost the same thought. Hence the definition, “al- most thought.” Consider again the step-modulation system of television transmission. If, at the transmitting end, seven steps of equal difference in light intensity are perfectly registered and perfectly transmitted, and in the receiver the rf, if, and video strips are operating with perfect linearity, the received picture should be an exact replica of the transmitted image, which above was perfect. I think you will agree, - assumption 115 though, that exact matching of all components is almost impossible. Therefore, if we are lucky, the result is almost the same picture. And if the reader is lucky, he gets almost the same thought the author started with.—Larry Maddock, 315 Canal Street, Eaton Rapids, Michi- gan. In other words—there is noise intro- duced in any communication channel. Dear Mr. Campbell: James W. Wilber’s letter very nicely exposes and corrects one false usually made about athletic son the Moon. Unfortunately, he keeps the other. His calculation assumes, as usual, that a jumper’s legs would not move any faster under the reduced load than they do on Earth, so that he would take off at the same velocity, his c.g. rising six times as high. Wil- ber’s later suggestion holds the clue, of course. How fast can a man jump under reduced gravity? I prefer to calculate a standing, rather than a running high jump, be- cause it is much simpler. In the run- ning jump, the athlete converts some of his forward motion into upward, by using his leg as a vaulting pole. This is so effective that he can jump higher this way than from a Standing start, even though he takes off from only one leg, and does not crouch nearly as low. Suppose Mr. Wilber’s 180-lb. 6-ft. athlete can raise his c.g. 24 ft. from a standing start. He first crouches down about 23 ft. The average force his legs exert through that distance gives him an acceleration of 2g. That is, 1g. to support 180 lbs., and Ig. to lift 180 lbs. another 24 ft. Accord- ingly, if he were on the Moon, weigh- ing 30 lbs., he could jump 6 x 24 = 15 ft. carrying a 129-lb. mass on EComichooksnco im