Like you need it

red Japanese maple leaves against green leyland cypress and blue sky
I’m sure the myriad and voluminous readers of this blog aren’t going to need the prodding, but June is just brimming with excuses to get outside. First off, the entire month is Great Outdoors Month, making it a good time to check out the parks near you, or not near you, and do a trip to that one place you’ve been planning to visit for months. Do it soon, before it gets too hot.

bamboo shoot fed on by likely North American beaverThen Saturday, June 7th, is National Trails Day, which fits in with the parks thing, or you can go out and find your own, looking for those subtle signs of trackways, crossovers, migration routes, and so on. How are your observations skills? Can you tell how long ago the trail was last used, and by what? Sometimes this is extremely tricky, sometimes not so – mud and recent rains, scat, and even leftover food can give some pretty strong clues.

The following Saturday (June 14th) is National Get Outdoors Day, always the second Saturday in June. This, really, shouldn’t have to be a prompt for anyone – we should be all outdoors at least several times a week, and I don’t mean between the house and the car either, but because everyone reading is naturally already on top of this, it’s a good time to do something different. No, not stay indoors, I mean try something outdoors that you haven’t done before. The US Forest Service is waiving the fees for their locations throughout the country for the day, so that can help, but this is a good excuse to be creative. Don’t be stupid about it, though: stay hydrated, don’t push your limits too hard, be familiar with your location, and as always, be prepared for the unexpected (which is contradictory, so ensure nothing is unexpected instead.) Put that rain poncho back into your bag, for instance. Don’t count on your smutphone to provide the information you need, since that about guarantees that it won’t.

[All of this sounds a little US-centric, because I’m not familiar with national holidays in other countries, but that’s a lousy excuse to avoid celebrating these if you live elsewhere. None of these were created or promoted by Florida Man/Putin’s Bitch/Tom Tariffic/The Utter Fuckhead and he probably hates them all anyway, so have at it.]

Above all else, experience the environment, broaden your horizons, and have fun!

wide angle shot of Falls of the Neuse region in Raleigh, NC

Throw numbers in the air

Over at Universe Today there’s an article about rewriting Drake’s Equation, and after reading it some time earlier, it’s been stewing in my mind a little; potential posts about it have changed several times, and resulted in this one.

Long story short: an astronomer named Frank Drake wrote out a simple equation, back in the sixties, to examine the possibility of contacting alien life. This was right at the beginning of advanced radio astronomy, and it took place for a meeting that would give birth to SETI, the Search for Extra-Terrestrial Intelligence, a project that is still going on today. I’ve written about this equation several times in the past, largely regarding how little it tells us and the bare fact that it’s all speculative. Recently, another astronomer named John Gertz proposed several changes to the equation, based on information that we’ve gathered in the time since. Here’s what he produced:

The number of spots on the sky within our field of view
X
The fraction of stars with planets
X
The average number of bodies within each that could engender life
X
The fraction of those that actually do give birth to life
X
The fraction of systems with life that evolve technological intelligence
X
The fraction of technological life that is detectable by any means
X
The duration of detectability
=
The chances of contact.

It was gratifying to see several of the points that I’d written about in the past get covered, but that’s just ego talking. A few other points were covered too, but those weren’t included in Gertz’s rewrite of the equation. But what came to me as I hashed this out was that there are three classifications of the information.

The first three factors in the equation are cosmological, able to be determined at a distance and hewing within reasonable estimates based on our knowledge of physics – they’re the ones we have the most confident numbers of (and it’s not all that confident, despite the huge upsurge in exoplanet knowledge in the past two decades.)

But the third is also biological, as are the fourth and fifth; they rely on the likelihood of life developing, moreover to a certain level, and we know nothing at all about that except for the conditions that we know are hostile, and that’s assuming life forms very similar to our own. Within our knowledge of physics, it seems that a carbon-based life form is most likely by far, but how life developed even on our own planet is still up for grabs, to say nothing of how likely this is to occur again elsewhere. These numbers are little more than wild guesswork, because we have nothing to support them. It’s the reason why I’ve said that the Drake Equation wasn’t actually an equation, because there’s no way to support it and testing it would require numerous examples of just the kind of contact it’s being used to predict.

The sixth and seventh factors are sociological, depending on the life from the previous factors actually engaging in practices or developments that we’d be able to detect, and to say that we’re spectacularly out to sea on these is putting it mildly. Intelligence isn’t this discrete concept; it’s a gradient, a spectrum of mental activity, and no matter what level you pick, you can find that it’s not necessary for life to sustain, not guaranteed or even likely to increase as a species develops, and possibly not even a lasting benefit (given how rapidly we’re depleting our resources and how serious our weapons of ‘defense’ are – targeted solely at our own species as well. But then again, as others have said, maybe we’re not actually intelligent.)

And as I’ve asked before as well, what are the chances of an extra-terrestrial species finding it a good idea to even make themselves known, much less initiate contact? Their own environment is going to guide how they develop, so are they competitive, or protective, or even just incurious about other life? It almost stands to reason that any species initiating contact does not feel threatened by this, and what should we infer from that?

Then there’s the attenuation of signal aspect. With all star systems light-years distant from us as well as one another, the ability to even transmit a signal would require enormous energy, becoming weaker with distance, so the species would have to be okay with disposing of this energy in the slim chance of making beneficial contact.

And if/when they do, what are the chances that they (or we) could even comprehend anything more than bare proof that it’s not a naturally-occurring signal? By what means are either of us going to translate any message?

So personally, I’d add a couple of factors into this equation, down at the bottom:

X
The fraction of technological life that is motivated to make contact
X
The fraction of technological life that would generate a signal that could reach us
X
The fraction of those signals that we would recognize as such
X
The fraction of technological life that would not present an enormous hazard to contact

That last one kinda throws a wrench in things, because it’s another number that we not only can’t calculate in the slightest, it can only be determined by taking the risk in the first place. I’ve mentioned before that we’re a stupidly gambling species, accepting certain risks if the reward seems worth it, and all too often the reward is entirely subjective. When we’re talking about an advanced species – one more advanced than us, since we’re considering it capable of something that we aren’t, yet – the risk of contacting something that could eradicate us is unknown in quantity, but undoubtedly present. For… what reason, really? Our curiosity? The chance that we might get some beneficial knowledge from them? The rather base instinct of being social? Yes, the idea of hostile aliens has been a science fiction trope for decades now – which doesn’t make it untrue in the slightest; some clichés are entirely accurate. Passively listening for signals likely entails little risk, but then, what do we do when we receive one? How low is the likelihood of any extra-terrestrial civilization openly transmitting useful information? Assuming for the sake of argument that we actually figure out how to translate such signals, how do we then figure out what the risks are? Are we going to psychoanalyze another species, much less based on their selected (and likely simple) transmissions? How trustworthy could we possibly consider this?

It’s funny; the more I think about the subject, the more I’m convinced that wild imagination and wishful thinking are playing more of a part than rational consideration. Receiving a definitive signal could be exciting and fascinating, but what happens after demands some careful thought.

*      *     *

Further posts along these lines:

Are We Alone? (Part One)
Are We Alone? (Part Two)
Are We Alone? (Part Three)
None of this looks familiar
Homey don’t play that
Let’s hope they’re cute

Just because, part 36

Given the topic of the previous post, I feel obligated to get a start on this month with an image that embodies incredible depth, poignancy, and insight.

Don’t believe me? Check out the nails on girlfriend here.

basking yellow-bellied slider Trachemys scripta scripta showing inordinately long toenails on foreleg
You just know she’s going to start complaining loudly that the price that came up at the register was way higher than it said on the shelf…

Blog trivia is the worst kind

So I noticed something the other day as I was checking my records. A year ago, I set a significant personal record (the ‘who-cares?’ kind of record) in May with the number of photos uploaded during the month, that number being 173; this was due to the trip we took to South Carolina, and I can’t even give the town usefully because we were between two and not even the residents seemed to know whether it counted more as Pawley’s Island or Murrell’s Inlet. Regardless, that was a notable jump, since the previous record had been 103 images in a single month. This also helped set the stage for the year being a record-holder as well.

May of this year is not even in contention – I uploaded 89 images for the month. However… the total for this year, so far, is well in advance of the same time last year, even with those 173 images from one month alone: 312 uploads by the end of May last year, versus 355 this year. The previous months held their own quite well, which says a lot considering those are the slow months of the year.

Will this trend continue? Will 2020 be a banner year for photos uploaded? Does anyone actually give a flying fuck? We’ll find out… well, it’ll be a few months yet. Except for maybe that last question.

Let’s provoke this party to commencing

osprey Pandion haliaetus in diveI know we’ve all been looking forward to this holiday for the past month at least, so we gonna fire it up now! Today for Do Some Creative Editing Day, we’re gonna tackle some simple photo tricks.

I’ve covered converting images to monochrome before, more than once actually, and our first exercise is an extension of it. It’s best to start with an image that already has us going in the right direction. It’s funny; I had looked at the osprey (Pandion haliaetus) image to the right recently (which you undoubtedly recognize from a previous post,) thinking that I’d like to use that strong contrast in a new way, and boom! Here we are at DSCE Day (pronounced, “Doosh,”) by the most amazing of coincidences. Since those linked posts, I’ve changed over to a Linux operating system, which means that my photo editing program is no longer Photoshop, but GIMP now (which is still available for free for Windows and OSX too.) GIMP doesn’t have a simple function for deleting channels, but it’s almost as easy, so we’ll cover that variation now.

If you can go into each channel and reduce them to nonexistence through the Curves function, which was one recommended method of channel clipping, it reduces the overall brightness of the image as well, making it harder to achieve the contrast you want. But I’ve just stumbled on a better way (it’s funny: advice on the internet is easy to find, but good advice is a little harder.) Go to Colors/Components and select ‘Decompose,’ and when it asks, choose ‘RGB’ and ‘Decompose to Layers.’ This creates a new image where the color channels are instead separate layers, visible through the Layers palette. It’s an easy matter to select the visibility of each layer (the little eye icon) to see which layer/channel has the best contrast; just remember that, because they’re now layers, the top layer has precedence if it’s visible (Which means that the Red channel is what you first see as the image opens.) Once you’ve determined which channel has the contrast that you like, simply right-click on the others and delete them.

deleting color channel in GIMP
osprey Pandion haliaetus in green channelThe individual channels might look a little blotchy here, which is where GIMP probably suffers against Photoshop’s abilities, but then again I didn’t open this image in Photoshop to see how it fared. For our purposes here it doesn’t matter, because we’re going to wantonly eradicate those registers anyway. Right now it’s an acceptable monochrome image, but lower in contrast than we might like to see, and much lower than we’re going to take it, because we’re going for a different effect now.

We now go into the Colors/Curves function, and increase our contrast in a very specific way.

adjusting for extreme contrast in GIMP
Move both the upper right and the lower left pointers inwards, but just left/right, and not up or down at all, increasing contrast – see the nearly-vertical line in the graph (the 45° diagonal was the starting position, but we want the one with the little circles on the ends.) It’s hard to describe exactly what we’re doing here, in terms of brightness and pixels, but basically we gave it a smaller number of positions to fill between full black and full white, so more of the ‘bright greys’ became ‘white,’ while more of the ‘dark greys’ became ‘black.’ Whatever – don’t ask questions, just do it. But deciding where to do it – how far to take either of those top and bottom positions – depends on the image and the effect you’re after. I liked this one, but yours may differ.

osprey Pandion haliaetus in very high contrast
The effect is very stark, almost reducing the image to pure black and white – some of the feathers and the legs retained some grey, but that was because they already inhabited that range the we reduced the entire photo to. There’s just enough detail to betray that it’s a photo and not a pen-and-ink sketch, but not by much.

I played around with a couple of others, too.

American toad Anaxyrus americanus in extreme  contrast
The American toad (Anaxyrus americanus) above was first seen here, while the green treefrog (Hyla cinerea) at right made its debut here. For the treefrog, however, the white of the belly showed up as well, without being a nice distinct shape that filled out the form, so I just trimmed that out, overpainting it in black. The treefrog clearly has more greys in the end result, while the toad really could be reproduced solely in black ink; all that would have to be fudged is some greys along the nose and near the eyes. Both of these, by the way, were possible because the light was distinctly from one side and so the shadows were deeper and the shaping distinct.

More experiments are below, where I added a wrinkle. I almost never touch the Saturation palette, because usually I’ve gotten it where I wanted in-camera, and it’s easy to over-saturate an image and have it look cartoonish and, frankly, edited. Even in the camera, I have a setting with slightly increased saturation only for those days when the light is weak and low-contrast, which would make the colors a little weaker too; it just adds an edge. However, if the resulting image has very narrow color registers itself, not too far away from monochrome to begin with, boosting saturation can produce a richer effect, even though plainly edited. The one below is a experiment of seafoam, taken during the recent SC trip.

oversaturated seafoam
The contrast between the sunlit and shadowed portions was very narrow, while the bubbles were distinct, so boosting the saturation way up just gave it a moderate amount of color. And then it got the high-contrast greyscale treatment:

seafoam in extreme contrast monochrome
Slightly different crop, because it was now the shapes of the bubbles, and not the contrasting colors, that made the focus of the subject. And then we do it again, with an image originally found here.

dandelion and dew oversaturated
Only by comparing it with the linked version can you tell that saturation has been radically altered – as far as it could go, in this case – because there was very little color to begin with. It seems perfectly feasible as a natural image, but those out-of-focus dewdrops gain a bit of depth to them. And now the monochrome.

dandelion and dew in extreme contrast monochrome
Had you not seen the original, it might have been a little difficult to tell what you were seeing here, I suspect. I probably should have popped this one up first without the link, but I don’t feel like rewriting the post now.

green treefrog in extreme contrast monochromeAnd our last one, not just another amphibian, but another green treefrog to boot. This one is from the gallery, as well as the exhibit this past winter, and presently decorates the hallway here at Walkabout Studios (in its original form, not this one. Maybe I’ll add it later one.) While the two images above used the red channel for best contrast when converting to monochrome, I went back to the green for this one, which rendered it pretty pale even before the alterations. Really, it works in color or monochrome – it all depends on what you’re after (or how much you believe that monochrome must mean, “high art,” a viewpoint held by far too many people with artistic airs.)

So go celebrate this wonderful holiday and experiment on your own, see what you can come up with. Skip the routine filters and effects that come prepackaged with any editing program, and try to whip up something on your own. Have fun!

The camera sees all

A few years back, I snagged what is sometimes called a “grab shot” of my cat Ben perched in the bathroom, and liked the effect of his glowing eyes in the depths. So I captioned it, a la LOLCats, but never bothered to submit it. More amusing to me is that Ben lacked any shred of threat or ominousness (you don’t think that’s a real word, do you?), being one of the most mellow and friendly cats I’ve known. Also one of the least bright, but those are stories for another day…

Unfortunately, I’m one of those people where half of my offline reading is done in the bathroom, and to the right of Ben’s pedestal (all cats have one, you know) sits my reading table. When I stumbled upon this image again recently, something there caught my eye, and I had to go in for a closer look. The original was shot much wider than this and cropped down, and done with a low-resolution digital camera yet, so the result isn’t exactly TV forensics quality, but it suffices.

As I suspected, the book is recognizable, and indicative of a skeptic’s bathroom for sure. In fact, I had a friend tell me that he’d picked up the book in my bathroom while visiting, became too engrossed, and ended up having to get his own copy – so now I even have a rough timeframe of when that occurred.

At this enhanced resolution, however, something that almost escaped attention now becomes obvious – there’s a sprite or orb or whatever in the shot! Don’t try telling me that it’s just a reflection of the flash, because reflections don’t have dark edges like that! Nor is there any reason for them to be purplish. No, the arcane processes that comprise photography served to capture the evidence of something not visible to the naked eye. I’d suspect the ghost of some past resident but the building was only about twenty years old, so perhaps the ghost of some previous structure on that location, though since I’m in North Carolina there’s a good chance this was a still. Then again, they do call liquor “spirits”…

Undoubtedly, it was locked in mortal combat (well, okay, immortal combat) with the spirit of the book. Which also explains why Ben was in there, because everyone knows cats are attuned to ghosts and such. He was probably refereeing.

I still have the book, but have noticed no arcane stacking behavior or anything. I’ll keep watching…