That’s a great question. I think it’s fair to say the idea that human beings develop in distinct stages was pioneered by Sigmund Freud in the 20th century, when he outlined his psycho-sexual stages of development in childhood. Erik Erikson, a developmental psychologist strongly influenced by Freud, described his own set of psycho-social stages, which carried through to adulthood.

Groundbreaking as these ideas were, they were to some degree anticipated by Shakespeare in his Seven Ages of Man speech from As You Like It. In the speech, Shakespeare describes seven developmental stages that carry through from childhood to adulthood, and the common characteristics that men display at each stage. Freud and Erikson would later codify this scientifically, but the Bard was able to figure it out just by observing the human condition. Point: Humanities!

It’s worth noting that both Freud and Erikson wrote about Shakespeare, and Hamlet in particular, to describe their theories. In a 1962 article entitled “Youth: Fidelity and Diversity,” Erikson actually references Shakespeare’s “ages of man” before spending about four pages examining fidelity and identity in Hamlet. So it would seem that the answer to the question is, yes, Erikson was influenced by Shakespeare to some degree, as was Freud. But influence often tends to be reflective, and the developmental psychologists certainly left their mark on Shakespeare as well.

I touched on this a bit about a month ago. I used to use “Mosh” to teach poetic devices, and I’m having trouble finding a more contemporary replacement. I’ll just give a sampling of each of the poetic devices I mentioned in that post. I tend to use only the middle stanza and the chorus, which I make into a handout. I also distribute the Prologue for Romeo and Juliet as a handout, so we can compare the two.

Repetition: “We gonna fight, we gonna charge, we gonna stomp, we gonna march”; “All you can see is a sea of people”; “If it rains let it rain”; “Rebel with a rebel yell”

Rhyme: Not only is there end rhyme, but there is internal rhyme as well. “They tell us no we say yea, they tell us stop we say go/ Rebel with a rebel yell, raise hell we gonna let em know”; “yea the wetter the better”; “that we need to proceed”

Rhythm: “Mosh” is written in anapestic tetrameter, which I always point out is the same meter as “‘Twas the Night Before Christmas”… and other popular poems as well. The Prologue for Romeo and Juliet, of course, is in iambic pentameter.

Alliteration: Note that in “we gonna mosh through the marsh” the words “mosh” and “marsh” start and end with the same sounds. Compare with “doth with their death” in the Prologue for Romeo and Juliet.

Antithesis: “They tell us no we say yea, they tell us stop we say go”; “from the front to the back”; “some white and some black”

Allusion: There’s a reference to George W. Bush in the passage.

Emendation: This is where I edited the reference to George W. Bush. I usually change it to “Stomp, push, shove, mush, [mock] Bush” even using the brackets like a Shakespeare editor.

In a 2006 interview with Brian Williams, President Bush claimed to have recently read “three Shakespeares” in addition to curling up with some Camus:

WILLIAMS: We always talk about what you’re reading. As you know, there was a report that you just read the works of a French philosopher. (Bush laughs)

BUSH: The Stranger.

WILLIAMS: Tell us the back story of Camus.

BUSH: The back story of the the book?

WILLIAMS: What led you to…

BUSH: I was in Crawford and I said I was looking for a book to read and Laura said you oughtta try Camus, I also read three Shakespeare’s.

WILLIAMS: This is a change…

BUSH: Not really. Wait a minute.

WILLIAMS: A few months ago you were reading the life story of Joe DiMaggio by Richard Ben Cramer.

BUSH: Which was a good book.

WILLIAMS: You’ve been on a Teddy Roosevelt reading kick.

BUSH: Well, I’m reading about the battle of New Orleans right now. I’ve got an eclectic reading list.

Williams didn’t ask him what “Shakespeares” he read, but I have my guess at one of them, as well as a selection I wish he’d read.

The constant pi is nature’s random digit generator, stretching out infinitely long and with no predictable pattern. This means that any finite string of numbers can be found somewhere out in the vast expanse of digits.

So if we were to express the Complete Works of Shakespeare in, say, ASCII code, it would indeed be represented as a very long, but certainly finite, string of digits. This string of digits is represented somewhere in pi, not once, but an infinite number of times. What’s more, the very first time it appears would be a finite distance in. Which means, there is some number X where you could say that if you start X digits into pi, you can read the Complete Works of Shakespeare.

Before you get too excited by that, you should realize that X is so unfathomably large that it would most likely be beyond human comprehension to even find a way to express it, let alone come anywhere near identifying it. You may think of the monkeys-at-typewriters thought experiment (and for our purposes, we can consider both the digits of pi and monkeys typing to be generating random characters). Even using theoretical monkeys, the number of simian typists needed would be beyond astronomical.

But, yes, the Complete Works of Shakespeare are somewhere in pi with a probability of 1. If the thought of that makes you smile, I’ve done my job.

Henry IV was often referred to as Henry Bolingbroke, but actually, his last name was Plantagenet.

In fact, all of the English kings from Henry II to Richard III carried the surname Plantagenet. This means that throughout the entire Wars of the Roses, the Yorks and Lancasters all had the same last name, which is found throughout the history plays. This is because both sides were led by male-line descendants of Edward III. There is a reference to this in Richard III, as Richard hits on the widow of the cousin he killed:

Glo. He that bereft thee, lady, of thy husband,
Did it to help thee to a better husband.
Anne. His better doth not breathe upon the earth.
Glo. He lives that loves thee better than he could.
Anne. Name him.
Glo. Plantagenet.
Anne. Why, that was he.
Glo. The self-same name, but one of better nature.
Anne. Where is he?
Glo. Here.

The long Plantagenet line comes to an end in 1485, when Richard III is defeated by a young man named Henry Tudor.

Rick Astley, before he became well known as a singer, did a bit of acting and even performed in some Shakespeare. Most of his Shakespeare work was done on stage and not screen, but there is a video clip of him performing the “never give her o’er” speech from The Two Gentlemen of Verona. The video can be found on YouTube here.

I leave the task of responding to the remaining search terms to my readers:

George Vaccaro was quoted a price of .002 cents per kilobyte for data usage while traveling in Canada. He later learned that he was being billed at a rate of .002 dollars per kilobyte. So instead of being charged an extra 71 cents, as he had expected, he found a 71 dollar charge on his bill. When he called to complain, he was unable to get anyone to understand what he was talking about, no matter how clearly he tried to explain it.

My .002 cents is that the exchange reminds me of the Upton Sinclair quote (made popular recently by Al Gore):

It is difficult to get a man to understand something when his job depends on not understanding it.

If they understood what he was saying, they’d have to take the charge off of his bill, which they clearly were not prepared to do.

Assume that everyone has two genes that determine eye color. For the sake of the math, we will stipulate that each gene must be either brown or blue. An individual inherits one gene from each parent. A parent will pass on one of his or her own two genes with equal probability.

Brown is dominant, which means that if an individual has one brown gene and one blue gene, then the individual will have brown eyes. An individual will also have brown eyes if both genes are brown. Only an individual with two blue genes will have blue eyes.

Now imagine this hypothetical scenario: Susan and David are a married couple, and both have brown eyes. David’s father had blue eyes, and his mother had brown eyes. Susan’s parents both had brown eyes, but her brother Bill has blue eyes. Susan and David are expecting their first child, baby Jason.

Question 1: What are the chances that Jason will have blue eyes?

Question 2: Suppose Jason had brown eyes. Susan and David are now expecting a second child, baby Ian. What are the chances that Ian will have blue eyes?

UPDATE: Both questions answered correctly by Micah. See comments for answers and discussion.

Now we’re getting a little closer to the present. King George III was king during the American Revolution; he was the King George we were revolting against. His reign was long – over 59 years! In fact, only his granddaughter Victoria reigned longer, though Elizabeth II is likely to pass him as well on May 12, 2011. But I digress.

George III is a direct ancestor of all subsequent monarchs of England. He was succeeded by two sons, a granddaughter, a great grandson, etc. So I’d imagine he’d be a direct ancestor of pretty much everyone who we consider to be of English royal birth today, though someone with a better grasp of how all of that works may correct me. I’d also imagine that he has many descendants who are not considered English royalty, their connection to the crown being too distant. Again, I am not beyond correction on this point.

The Tudors is for adults.

Cheater!

Many important historical events occurred during the 52 years of Shakespeare’s life, both in the world and in England in particular. Shakespeare was born in 1564, just two months after Galileo, and died on his birthday in 1616 on the same day as Cervantes (actually ten days later).

That’s a lot of history to cover here, but I’ll give you a sampling of five of the more significant English, but non-Shakespearean, events that took place during Shakespeare’s lifetime and how they may have affected Shakespeare. I invite readers to quibble with my choices:

1588 – The English navy defeats the Spanish Armada. This sparked a new era of English patriotism which coincided with the beginning of Shakespeare’s writing career. It’s why a lot of his early plays are Histories, as that was a popular trend at the time.

1603 – Elizabeth I dies without an heir, and is eventually replaced by King James I. James became a patron of Shakespeare’s company, now “The King’s Men,” and Shakespeare will write Macbeth in honor of the new king.

1605 – Catholic conspirators attempt to murder James in the Gunpowder Plot. It is believed that there are references to the Gunpowder Plot in Macbeth.

1607 – Establishment of Jamestown colony in Virginia. The Tempest may have been inspired by the wreck of a ship that was headed for the colony.

1611 – Publication of the King James Bible. Rumors that Shakespeare worked on the project are mere speculation. Stories about Psalm 46 containing hidden messages should be taken with a grain of salt.

The expression “slings and arrows” is from Hamlet, but I assume you’re talking about the Canadian television series. There were three seasons, each revolving around a different Shakespearean tragedy. Julius Caesar was not one of them. The plays were, in order, Hamlet, Macbeth, and King Lear.

He would look like a 517-year-old man holding a giant drumstick.

I leave the task of responding to the remaining search terms to my readers:

In the presidential election, Missouri has finally reached a decision. The state has been won by John McCain, bringing the final electoral college count (barring any faithless electors) to 365-173. And in Iowa County, Iowa, we find an exact tie between Obama and McCain, with 4,173 votes each.

You see? You should have voted.

From what I can tell, the site works from a table of which words follow other words in the play, and how often. It then constructs a chain by looking at the last word (or few words) that were entered, and choosing a random word of those that actually follow that word (or few words) in the play.

For example, one place in the play has “Alas! poor Yorick. I knew him, Horatio.” Another part of the play has “I knew your father.” The Markov chain might generate “Alas! poor Yorick. I knew…” and then, only looking at the last two words “I knew” might follow up with “your father.” The final result would be “Alas! poor Yorick. I knew your father.”

This is a favorite example provided by the author, but there are a lot of funny possibilities. You can keep refreshing the page to get a new randomly-generated Hamlet.

Thanks, Rosencrantz and Guildenstern are dead:
Ere I could accuse me of the courtier, cousin, and with a look so piteous in purport
As I perceived it, if I gall him slightly,
Whips out his rapier, cries, ‘A rat, a touch,
The queen desires you to remain
Here is your only jig-maker. What it should be old as I will be laid to us, till I know not–lost all my best obey you, and, at a shot
So art thou to me all the battlements their ordnance fire: proclaim no shame
When Roscius was an actor in Rome,–
As of a dear father murder’d,
With mirth in funeral and with a crafty madness, like the herald Mercury
New-lighted on a roar? Not one now o’er
The triumph of his own scandal.

Enjoy!

Looking at a traditional electoral map can be deceiving, because the states are shown in proportion to their land area. If instead, you look at a cartogram, you can see how the states compare to each other by, say, population (shown below) and you can really get a sense of how much of the country went red or blue. Professor Mark Newman from the University of Michigan has some good examples on his site:

So, is all of this just post-election gloating, or am I making a larger point? Well, it’s mostly post-election gloating; it has been a long eight years. But there is a larger point as well. President Obama will enter office with an overwhelming mandate, not to mention a friendly Congress and an enthusiastic public. I know some of my good friends are determined to cling to their cynical views, and I understand where they are coming from, but let me ask them this: If the potential for the change you want were to come along, would you recognize it? Would you believe in it? Would you do everything you could to support it? Because if this isn’t it, I don’t think we’re ever going to see it.

And this is a historical moment for so many reasons. It’s not just that we are going to have an African-American president, which in itself is a monumental marker of progress. It’s also about voter turnout and enthusiasm. And even the most cynical among us are daring to hope for change in this country.

For me, what makes this election remarkable is that the undecided voter wasn’t much of a factor. In the past few campaigns, the two candidates were so close that both had to court undecided voters. This leads to pandering, wedge issues, and attack ad wars.

This election was different. Between Obama’s inspirational message, McCain’s coming unglued in the final weeks, the economy in crisis, and the overwhelming Bush fatigue felt by so many of us, it was a perfect storm for the Democratic candidate. As a result, Obama had such a commanding lead that he was able to take the high road and speak directly to the issues.

McCain also tried to campaign cleanly. I never had a problem with the Joe the Plumber strategy. It never bothered me that he wasn’t a licensed plumber, wasn’t about to buy a business, would not have seen a tax hike under Obama, and wasn’t named Joe. McCain was making a point about standing up for small businesses, and Joe the Plumber was convenient shorthand. That seems fair enough.

However, the constant attempts to paint Obama as not a real American were painful to watch. Sarah Palin campaigning across the country would suggest that Obama liked to pal around with terrorists. And then there were the attack ads that used code words to appeal to the worst qualities of the electorate. I don’t think this was in the spirit of what McCain was trying to accomplish with his candidacy. But in the end, the law requires the candidate to explicitly state “I approve this message.” Ironically, it’s John McCain whom we have to thank for that law.

All of that is behind us now. We may go to sleep tonight secure in the belief that we will wake up to morning in America. And President Obama will ride a massive wave of momentum into office, only to find a friendly Congress waiting for him. His first hundred days have the promise to be extraordinary. But we must not let our enthusiasm be replaced with complacency. Change is difficult under the best of circumstances, and there will be pressure to compromise. This is still our country. This is still our government. We must be as vigilant with President Obama as we were with President Bush.

But that comes later. Tonight, we celebrate.

I’m the Shakespeare Teacher, and I approve this message.

After 2004’s disappointment, I don’t want to put too much faith in the polls, but I am feeling cautiously optimistic.

But this week’s question isn’t about predicting the election. Let’s suppose hypothetically that Barack Obama does win next month. Let’s say that the election maintains a Democratic majority in the House, and Democrats wind up with 60 seats in the Senate (enough to block a filibuster).

This would basically put the Democrats in control of the agenda for at least two years, longer if the voters are pleased with the results.

So, the two questions I pose to my mostly liberal readership (but also my few conservative and moderate readers as well) is this:

If the Democrats were to take control, what would you like to see happen? What would you expect would actually happen?

Right now, at this moment, what would you say is the percentage chance that Sarah Palin will become President of the United States in the next four years?

I’m going with 5%. That figure puts the election at about 50/50, and gives McCain a 90% chance of surviving his first term.

What do you think?

What number am I thinking of?

UPDATE: Question answered by Bronx Richie. See comments for answer.

“I usually go first,” he says icily. “Surely you will allow me a rematch, and allow me to go first this time.”

You know that, with his standard set up using piles of 1, 2, 3, 4, and 5, he can force a win by going first, so you decline. But he comes up with a surprising offer: you can increase the number of piles.

As before, the piles will start at 1 coin and will increase by 1 coin until the desired number of piles is reached. So if you decide to increase to six piles, the coin amounts must be 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, and 6. You’ve only got a limited number of coins available, so you may not exceed ten piles.

Iachimo will go first and you will take turns drawing coins from the piles. On your turn, you may remove as many coins as you like from any one pile. The winner is the one who takes the last coin and leaves his opponent without a move.

“Double or nothing,” he dares you, with a bit of desperation in his voice. You’re not sure what would happen if you decline. It doesn’t matter, though, since you see a clear path to victory, even allowing Iachimo to go first.

How many piles do you set up? What’s your strategy for winning?

In Nim, two opponents take turns drawing from several piles of coins. On your turn, you may remove as many coins as you like from any one pile. The winner is the one who takes the last coin and leaves his opponent without a move. The coins themselves are not on the line, but Iachimo likes to make the game more interesting with a modest wager.

As you enter the tavern, you notice that Iachimo is set up for business. He has stacked five piles of coins, numbered 1, 2, 3, 4, and 5. Each pile has the same number of coins as the pile number: 1, 2, 3, 4, and 5. He sees you coming and amiably offers you a friendly wager which you quickly accept.

“I’ll go first,” you smile, and before Iachimo can object, you make your move.

What’s your first move? What’s your strategy for winning?

But what of the founding fathers of Western literature? Recently, we celebrated April 23 as Shakespeare’s birthday, but we also know it as his death day. Shakespeare died in Stratford on April 23, 1616. We do not know the time of his death, or his last words.

Miguel de Cervantes, author of Don Quixote, might likewise be considered one of the founding fathers of Western literature. Cervantes died in Madrid on April 23, 1616. We do not know the time of his death, or his last words.

And yet, it is possible to say, with some degree of certainty, which of the two authors perished first. And that, dear readers, is today’s Conundrum.

Who died first: Shakespeare or Cervantes? How do you know?

Feel free to speculate as to last words too, if that sort of thing amuses you.

UPDATE: Question answered by Neel Mehta. See comments for answer.

This means that if Shakespeare were alive today, he would be the world’s oldest human. In fact, he would be the oldest human who ever lived.

The number 444 makes me think of the Iran Hostage Crisis. The hostages were held for 444 days.

444 is a Harshad number. It is also a palindrome.

The year 444 AD was precisely 1564 years ago. What year was Shakespeare born? 1564. Believe it or not!

How bad is that? Even sugared gum was signed off on by one out of five dentists. That’s 20 percent.

His job approval is only 14 percent on the economy. The remaining 5 percent who gave him a thumbs-up overall must have been dazzled by the undeniably admirable job he’s been doing managing the Iraq situation.

This seems to me to be a conservative fantasy, a cynical ploy to appeal to people who are so opposed to paying their taxes that they are willing to abandon the most basic logic. Surely we can all agree that if we cut taxes down to zero, then we will take in less revenue. Therefore, it must follow that there is a point beyond which cutting taxes cannot increase revenue.

I do understand the economics behind the principle. Cutting taxes leads to more disposable income for consumers, which leads to greater demand for goods and services, which leads to increased demand for labor, which leads to increased employment and wages, which creates more overall income to be taxed. However, in this age when outsourcing of labor is on the rise, and America is importing more goods than it is exporting, that chain seems to have a few weak links.

From 2003 to 2005, the increase in income for the top one percent exceeded the total income of the bottom twenty percent.

Turn that over in your mind for a moment before we move on to the Question of the Week, which comes to us via the Hoover Institute, a conservative think-tank at Stanford University.

How much does the gap between rich and poor matter? In 1979, for every dollar the poorest fifth of the American population earned, the richest fifth earned nine. By 1997, that gap had increased to fifteen to one. Is this growing income inequality a serious problem? Is the size of the gap between rich and poor less important than the poor’s absolute level of income? In other words, should we focus on reducing the income gap or on fighting poverty?

It’s a fair point. Do rising waters raise all ships? And if so, does it matter if the rich get richer faster than the poor get richer? Or is income inequity really the problem, and a bigger slice of the pie for the rich means less for everyone else? And is it okay to mix ship and pie metaphors when talking about economics? I guess what I’m asking is this:

Does the income gap matter?

Tic-Tac-Toe is a pretty easy one. You solved this as a kid. There are three opening moves – corner, edge, center. And then you work from there.

Connect Four was solved in 1988. That’s because those new-fangled computer thingies were starting to get some real power behind them. If you want to play Connect Four against the best opponent you’ve ever played in your life, check out the applet on John’s Connect Four Playground which is programmed to play flawlessly, based on a database of pre-determined best moves. But if you go first, and play just as flawlessly, you can beat it.

Checkers was solved this past April by researchers from the University of Alberta. You can play against Chinook, which will play flawlessly, but the best you can hope for is a draw. It doesn’t matter how amazingly good you are at checkers. You will never win. For me, there’s something a little disturbing about that.

Could chess be next? There are an incredibly large number of possible games, but it must be finite. And if it’s finite, then the tree must conceptually exist even if nobody has been able to come close to mapping it yet. Some see chess playing ability as intutive and creative, and not merely a number cruching process. But if number crunching continues to get better, it might evolve to the point where we get a chess-playing program as unbeatable as Chinook.

To be clear, we’re not talking about a really, really good chess-playing program. We have that now. We’re talking about a program that can access an exhaustive database of pre-determined best moves in order to ensure the most favorable outcome possible.

What do you think?

Will computers ever solve chess?

November 13, 2007 – Impeachment

A total of 64% of American voters say that President George W. Bush has abused his powers as president. Of the 64%, 14% (9% of all voters) say the abuses are not serious enough to warrant impeachment, 33% (21% of all voters) say the abuses rise to the level of impeachable offenses, but he should not be impeached, and 53% (34% of all voters) say the abuses rise to the level of impeachable offenses and Mr. Bush should be impeached and removed from office.

The respondents didn’t specify whether they were specifically referring to the administration’s policy on torture. They didn’t say if they were talking about how they cherry-picked intelligence to justify a wrong-headed war, or how they compromised national security by outing a covert CIA operative, merely as retribution for her husband calling them on their lies. The respondents may not have been specifically responding to warrantless wiretapping and secret military tribunals. They may have simply been thinking of how the administration handed over all government regulation to the industries being regulated. The data doesn’t say. All they were asked was if President Bush abused his power, and 64% said he did. The data also doesn’t show what the other 36% were thinking.

When you look at the data, though, something else is striking.

I’m surprised, though I guess I shouldn’t be, that so few people gave Response 2. Imagine a graph of this data. Usually a distribution like this would slope up, slope down, or rise in the middle like a bell curve. That this data set has such a sharp dip in the middle is a testament to just how polarizing this president has been. 64% of Republicans feel that President Bush has not abused his powers as president at all, while 50% of Democrats feel he should be impeached for it.

Also, more than one-fifth of respondents in general felt that his abuses had risen to the level of an impeachable offense, but that he shouldn’t be impeached. Isn’t that being soft on crime? Or perhaps we just remember the last time an opposition Congress impeached a sitting president, and are unwilling to go through all of that again, even if it’s warranted this time.

Because for 36% of the population, warrants are sooooo 20th century.