Fungi

Today I have visited an exhibition on fungi. It was really impressive for several reasons:
1. The largest organism ever found on this planet is a fungus: Armillaria ostoyae
2. 80% (or even more) of the worlds biomass are decomposed by fungi
3. And other stuff
This made me forget, that yesterday, when I walked past the Bauernbergpark Man, I found him crying bitterly. However, the exhibition reminded me of how fragile our ecosystem is and how many complicated aspects of symbiosis, parasitism and equilibria it includes.
It makes me wonder about the unbelievable interconnectedness of all things, and of course about my role and the Man's role in all of this.
Yesterday, after passing the crying Bauernbergpark Man, my dog defecated into a decayed group of Coprinaceae. This at least is the narrative connection between fungi, the Man and me. Does that make sense?
One day, I walked through a forest near my hometown (Yes - the one with the Bauernbergpark) I encountered a single Coprinus atramentarius which is unusual because I think they normally grow in groups. Next to it there was a toilet brush. The picture of the biofact and the artifact, that somehow resembled each other, stayed in my mind for a long time. 
What was there before? The mushroom or the brush? From an evolutionary perspective the coprinus is much older. But who will survive as the fitter one? The mycelium of the fungus is a tough match even for a metal toilet brush. I fear that someone will cut the trees there, so that the mycelium must die. The toilet brush will live on happily ever after.
The purpose of this is that one day the Bauernbergpark Man will read this, and simply will stop crying.
My problem is, that I am pretty sure that a warm sleeping bag and a few warm words would be much better.

Event Horizon

No it is not the movie I am writing about (though that gave me some shivers some time ago). It is not about some physical theory either. It is the event horizon of individual perception.
And Zen.
Yes. This is actually one topic. While Bowie is singing "Changes" into my ears, I try to make my point.
You can get adicted to widening the horizon. You can get mad if it explodes. You can use drugs and you can use other kicks.
Usually this happens all too fast. To get a good knowledge of the territory you can perceive, to get a real good map of your world, it takes time. It takes time to sit, as Zen people would do. Of course there are other ways than Sôtô meditation, but all of them take time.
So stop where you are and look around. Where have you put your shoes when you entered the apartment, and what is the color of the carpet? That is essential.
It is not essential to go everywhere. Do you know yourself? Gnothi seauton!
Yes, I especially mean you, who is wandering the night alone, in search for the next beam of light. You who gave me this face. Sit down and rest my friend. Your enlightenment is false and will burn away like the flame of a torch. It is time to get back to the ground, to feel the earth again.
It will hurt, yes indeed, but we are merely human beings. Our lot is to work ourselves through the dirt. Per aspera ad astra.
I am looking forward to sitting next to you at the edge of the road and to watch the fast cars pass by.
You will laugh at your past madness. We will meet at a real slow place, in a pup somewhere, where time stands still. You will appreciate the fog and abhor the blinding light you are in now.
Finally you will have friends and family again.
You are free to chose. You can take the fast road into the light of perdition or you can turn around and follow the hard road, the long path back to mankind. There you can regain strength and freedom, real freedom, not the freedom of Icarus.
Enough for now.
See you in the citadel.
A friend.

Frankenstein

Finally I found time to read Mary Shelley's Frankenstein. Brilliant. Hubris in its most beautiful romantic form.
The other book I'm reading is Atran and Medin's Folkbiology, which is sometimes much weirder, for instance when discussing New Guinean bird names.
I am listening to Jerry Garcia playing "Sitting on top of the world" and I miss the Bauernbergpark Man.
Two days ago I passed by his summer quarters (which are two adjacent bark benches near a long turn of the road) and all his belongings were scattered on the ground. He was gone.
I hope he has a warm place to stay before the winter comes to the park.
I wonder how the Man really feels and if he is sometimes as lonely as Shelley's monster. Who can tell?
What shall I read next?
Ah. Phillip Balls's "Unnatural" comes to my mind.

Bauernbergpark Man III

This is a rather fascinating week for me. However, during a workshop at the Ars Electronica Future Lab I found the time to walk the dog.
I also found the Man, sitting in front of my suicidal friend's former apartment. He asked me for some cash.
He was very polite and he was using very formal German language-
I gave him 6 Euros and looked him into the eyes for the very first time. What I saw was kindness. What a contrast to the encounter a few days ago!
The weather is getting rather wet. Hope he's sleeping well on the floor of the pavilion.

Bauernbergpark Man Attack

Although the Man is mostly peaceful, he frequently has some sort of nervous attacks. Then he swears aloud or he calls for the police.
Three days ago I passed him when he came back from his Hofer market duties. He was having one of his fits. However, he stopped swearing when he saw me and walked past me silently.
SUDDENLY he turned around and told my dog that he is a good boy in a very aggressive manner.
I kept on walking, and the Man turned too and went after his lunatic business.
That is the other side of the Bauernbergpark Man, a side that undoubtedly gives him constant troubles. To me and to the dog it was just 10 seconds of fear. For him it means a life on park benches.

Ed Regis What is life? (german)

Ed Regis

What is Life? Investigating the Nature of Life in the Age of Synthetic Biology

2008

Oxford University Press

Link zu Amazon

Das Buch liefert eine spannende Reise durch die Geschichte des Lebensbegriffes und die modernen Herausforderungen an diesen, wie Synthetische Biologie, Protozellenforschung und die Suche nach extraterrestrischem Leben.

Die Geschichte beginnt mit den Protagonisten der Protozellenforschung, des sogenannten „bottom-up“ Zugangs zur Erschaffung künstlichen Lebens, bzw. einer künstlichen Zelle wie etwa Norman Packard und Steen Rasmussen.

Es folgt ein Rückblick auf Erwin Schrödingers Standardwerk: What is life? aus dem Jahr 1944, das zum einen den Mythos des Lebens aus physikalischem Blickwinkel entzauberte, andererseits aber viel Fragen offen ließ. Im Zentrum des Werkes Schrödingers steht der Begriff der Negentropie, oder negativen Entropie, der Lebewesen, was nichts anderes Bedeutet als Ordnung.

Regis erzählt nun die Geschichte der Entdeckung der DNA, die bis ins Jahr 1869 reicht, als sie von Friedrich Miescher aus dem Eiter von Wundverbänden aus dem Krankenhaus isoliert wurde. 1953 publizierten Watson und Crick ihre Entdeckung der Struktur der DNA. Der genetische Code wurde im laufe der 60er Jahre von Marshall Nirenberg entschlüsselt.

Das Buch handelt nun weiter von einem Kongress 1993 in Dublin mit dem Titel: „What Is Life: The Next 50 Years“ der Erwin Schrödinger würdigte, aber mit den meisten seiner Erkenntnisse abrechnete.

Als nächstes wird die Wichtigkeit von ATP für Lebensprozesse verdeutlicht und als wesentliches Merkmal von Leben der Metabolismus herausgearbeitet.

Dann geht es um die Ursprünge des Lebens. Die Theorie, die hier am plausibelsten erscheint ist jene von Freeman Dyson, die einen doppelten Ursprung von Metabolismus und Reproduktion postuliert.

Im nächsten Kapitel wird der Stand der Evolutionstheorie skizziert, indem Theodosius Dobzhanskys Aussage: „Nothing in biology makes sense except in the light of evolution“ als falsch hingestellt wird.

Dann spannt sich der Bogen zurück zu den Protozellen-Forschern und es werden deren letzte Fortschritte aufsummiert. Es wird jedoch klar gestellt, dass es noch nicht gelungen ist eine künstliche Zelle zu synthetisieren, obwohl schon interessante Entwicklungen in diese Richtung gemacht worden sind.

Am Ende wird die Frage „Was ist Leben?“ damit beantwortet, dass es sich bei Leben um einen in einem Körper enthaltenen Metabolismus (embodied metabolism) handelt.

Lieblingszitat: Carl Sagan wrote that „despite the enormous fund of information that [biologists] have provided, it is a remarkable fact that no general agreement exists on what it is that is being studied. There is no generally accepted definition of life.“ p.156

Origins

Where does life come from? A very original question.
If someone created it: the question remains: How did the creator do it? If someone brought it along through space, how did it emerge where it came from?
Although the answers given by Freeman Dyson seem to be the best ones so far, combining the origin of  heredity/replication with the origin of metabolism, the quest for the origin of life seems endless.
So lets look for some interesting creation Myths. In my rather cheap edition of a mythology book creation is the first chapter after the introduction. How original again.
If you take a closer look at the myths, it seems that they focus on different aspects of the origin of what we consider to be the universe.
For a start let us discuss the Egyptian myth of Nun. What is the difference between the primal soup and the primal sea? What is the difference between Maat and Miller? Both intended to create order from chaos.
Unfortunately there is a documentary on ORF III tonight, that I cannot miss. It is on a completely different topic, but I promise to continue to discuss matters of the origin of life in this blog.
By the way, today the Bauernbergpark Man asked someone for a cigarette close to where I live. For him, I think, the universe is created anew every day.

Archy good Archy nice

I have just rewritten my short prose on a guy doing something nasty to a church in Linz. So I am  productive. The problem with short prose is that you need a lot of small nice ideas to have enough material one day. I have four short stories so far. That is nothing.
I think the next one will be about trying to steal a bottle from the Bauernbergpark Man. He is the star of my Blog, so he will be the only real character in my short prose collection. Ha.
Maybe I even manage to write a poem today. For some reason I am having a good time, although my beloved one is very far away from me. Wait a moment. That's it. My sadness and loneliness gives me the kick on the dark side of the moon to be productive.
On the other hand it could also be the lime ice cream with blueberries I have consumed just a few minutes ago.
Yes drugs and loneliness. That feels good. Makes me feel young again.
So: What is left to do for today: Write a poem, write some short prose, make some plans for publishing some of the stuff, walk the dog, sleep. Ha
I'll do that. No time for stupid blogging any more.
Cu

Waunfawr

2 weeks in Wales are not enough. From Snowdonia ale to windy beaches everything was fine. I didn't even miss the Bauernbergpark and the Man although when I came back I first made sure that he is still around.
His latest drawings on the ground are rather interesting by the way. They look somewhat like this: <O> with all his cigarette butts in the middle.
Hmm. He sure has some troubles with the thunderstorms recently.
I wish my posts get more coherent again but I can't think of anything more interesting when I listen to David Bowie music.
My little finger hurts from typing.
I have to stop.
Sorry.
:-)

Coward

I have just deleted an interesting post that would have probably cost my job.
I will post it later, one day, hopefully.
Curious, eh?
Harr.