Evidently there’s a Venusian woman, also stationed on Earth, who’s in love with this particular alien. This is evidenced by the fact that, this morning, (Valentine’s Day Feb. 14, 2014), she sent me the following email:
How do I love thee? Let me count the ways. Let’s see….. Mmmmmm. Uhmmmm. Errrrrr.
It’s hopeless – there are too many things to count, I wouldn’t be able to get any work done. You are just too wonderful.
Her profession is numeric qualitative and quantitative measure, and she’s evidently enamored with numbers, so to this I responded:
OK… now let me count the ways…
eleven!
That was easy!
Adsense ended at a lousy $97.99 last night. It was over $2 before 1 AM and is now at $22. It may have happened back in October’s heyday but I don’t recall seeing a number that high in the morning before. Today is a typically slower Friday, however, so I don’t know how things will end up.
I love Adsense twelve ways!
And then she:
I count at least 13 ways that you love me!!!
So I:
In days of yore, length and depth and breadth pretty much covered it.
But now, with all the empirically possible divergent worlds, my love for you expands forever immeasurably.
Even if I could freeze time I’d spend the rest of eternity counting these ways of love. It would be a little sad though, because, despite quantifying bliss, it would be frozen in time and space and nevermore in the dynamic now.
So, yes, let’s go with 13.
And as a followup:
Love and Tensor Algebra
from “The Cyberiad” by Stanislaw Lem
Come, let us hasten to a higher plane
Where dyads tread the fairy fields of Venn,
Their indices bedecked from one to n
Commingled in an endless Markov chain!
Come, every frustrum longs to be a cone
And every vector dreams of matrices.
Hark to the gentle gradient of the breeze:
It whispers of a more ergodic zone.
In Riemann, Hilbert or in Banach space
Let superscripts and subscripts go their ways.
Our asymptotes no longer out of phase,
We shall encounter, counting, face to face.
I’ll grant thee random access to my heart,
Thou’lt tell me all the constants of thy love;
And so we two shall all love’s lemmas prove,
And in our bound partition never part.
For what did Cauchy know, or Christoffel,
Or Fourier, or any Bools or Euler,
Wielding their compasses, their pens and rulers,
Of thy supernal sinusoidal spell?
Cancel me not – for what then shall remain?
Abscissas some mantissas, modules, modes,
A root or two, a torus and a node:
The inverse of my verse, a null domain.
Ellipse of bliss, converge, O lips divine!
the product o four scalars is defines!
Cyberiad draws nigh, and the skew mind
Cuts capers like a happy haversine.
I see the eigenvalue in thine eye,
I hear the tender tensor in thy sigh.
Bernoulli would have been content to die,
Had he but known such a^2 cos 2 phi!
(This alien loves her too.)
UNIR1
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