On the topic: The Storm and the Day After. Part Six: Applied Sciences

Nov062024

On the topic: The Storm and the Day After. Part Six: Applied Sciences

On the topic: The Storm and the Day After.

Part Six: Applied Sciences.

“Dog”, that’s the name of the captain’s bicycle. Each time he gives different reasons, but the one that is closest to reality is the one that says that, when he was a child, a neighbor had a dog and he named the little animal “bicycle.” In the captain’s broken sense of “justice,” the logical thing to do was to compensate, so his bike is called “Dog.” Since “bicycle” is feminine, then it was to be expected that he would have named it the feminine name of “Dog.” But, perhaps foreseeing the complications that translation into English would bring, or because he thinks that the arrangement of genres is like the assignment of destinies, an avoidable trap, “Dog” stuck.

Anyway, the thing is that it all started with the “Dog”. The captain has not wanted to convert his mechanical bicycle into an electric one, because he naively believes that he can find another option.

But this bit, the one of the “Dog”, is only one part of the equation, always in this hypothetical situation.

The other is a collective or group of people who do science. The coincidence between the “Dog” and that group may not only be the natural tendency, which is present in some people, to disagree. This group, which from now on I will call “Applied Science”, is ‘contreras’ [naysayer]. In other words, let’s say, it does not follow the majority trend in the scientific community. That is, it is not frivolous, superficial and ignorant of the world beyond its specialty. It is, therefore, a minority group. So don’t waste your time looking for the name in scientific catalogs. In addition to this serious foul on scientific tradition, this group does not seek to publish in specialized journals, win awards, scholarships, renown, government or non-governmental positions, or run aground in the academy. Instead, it focuses its work on seeking to apply scientific knowledge to reality.

The equation “Dog-Captain-Applied Science-Day After” has to do with two crow’s nests of two ignored ships: the small one of the Applied Science collective and the smaller of the Zapatistas. Although apparently in different and disparate seas, from both boats they were able to see what was coming in the distance. That is, the storm.

It is not known if there was a personal and formal meeting between the two, or if it was one of those impossible coincidences. The fact is that the collective, based on their scientific knowledge, and Zapatismo, based on their non-scientific knowledge, reached the same conclusion.

And on both ships, the corollary was not to throw oneself into vice and perdition (although the captain wanted nothing more), nor to burst into dives and partying. For some strange reason, difficult to explain rightly or wrongly, from both mastheads they managed to look beyond the storm and concluded that the problem, more than the storm itself, was… the day after.

The supreme leader of the “ezetaelene [EZLN] system of mail and ramblings”, a schizophrenic beetle, confided to our dear (ha!), admired (ha! squared), well-loved (ha! factorial), and never well-considered captain, the existence of that rebellious, unsubmissive, sacrilegious and, to top it off, scientific collective.

The captain skipped the part about asking the beetle when the hell had he got that position, and asked for the email address. He communicated with “ellos” [them] and, of course, “ellas” [them]. The captain’s letter detailed the following:

It was inspired by what, in the world of electric bicycles, is known as “regenerative braking” (which consists, roughly speaking, in that, when braking, the kinetic energy of the motor that would be lost in braking is directed to the battery of the vehicle to recharge it). As this system requires a special type of motor and device, energy recovery is not 100%, it is more expensive and requires more maintenance, the captain returned to his original idea: a wind-up bicycle. Yes, like the toy cars of old childhoods, where the car was wound up to move by a “motor” – which was nothing more than a spiral spring, compressed to the stop, which, when released and by “unwinding”, through gears, provided movement to the wheels. Just like a traditional watch. It was also used in toys and dolls (which were scientifically gutted to discover the “magic” that gave them movement).

The captain’s idea is to design a bicycle with this principle: a device that, when the spring is released, produces movement and that said movement generates the energy necessary to recompress the spring, and so on forever.

The first response from the “Applied Sciences” collective was not very encouraging, although it was as laconic as a statement: “The energy-motor-energy-motor thesis is fine for YouTubers and the like. Not even theology resorts to it. No way, my Cappy, you have to pedal.”

Following the scientific principle of “always doubt”, the second answer was even more concise but more promising: “It is not possible… yet. Well, we don’t really know.» The third answer, not raining but pouring, said: “I use a motorcycle.”

As expected, this encouraged our intrepid (if there were any “ha!s” left, please add some) captain. He began to work feverishly in his discredited bicycle workshop, hoping to find the holy grail of infinite energy. Well, actually he hoped it would merely last longer than the energy produced by his beautiful, shapely legs (ha!s at your discretion).

Even so, when talking about the bikes, the captain used to say: “this is a vehicle that runs on pozol and water, it is eco-friendly, so low-cost that the most expensive things are the bandages and antiseptics for the wounds caused by falls. Always wear a protective helmet. Be very careful: never, and I mean never, try to pass a dump truck or a herd of cows.”

-*-

Meanwhile, the storm worsened.

As is (or should be) characteristic of scientific knowledge, the “Applied Sciences” collective looked at where everything was going. It collected data, verified it, crossed it, analyzed simulation models, consulted tables, statistics, facts. It came to a conclusion: the destruction caused would be the end of the world as they knew it. In other words, everything would go to hell. Well, not with those words, but something more scientific.

Instead of courting directors, CEOs and department heads, or looking for a position from the already meager science budget, the group began to collect basic materials whose subsequent scarcity or non-existence was foreseeable.

So it put together a large amount of wires, cables, diodes, transistors, resistors (that is, not resistances, but the other kind), modulators, oscillators, coils, dynamos, relays and other equally mysterious things. They tested some experimental models. They were encouraged to see that they could increase the energy production of a dynamo in the wheel of a bicycle to… power a half-sized loudspeaker!

Of course, the challenge that Sub Commander Insurgent Moisés gave them was much greater: making the equipment in an operating room work. However, the group knew it was on the right track.

If there were the fraternal doctors, the health promoters, the facilities and, soon (or so we hope), the necessary equipment, then the problem would be to make them work even if the electrical energy from the grid, extinct in this hypothesis, was lacking.

When the storm was getting worse and practically the day before, the group moved, with everything and its junk, to the community I told you about. So, by the time the artistic gang arrived, “Applied Science” had already set in for some time. And were organized.

At the request of SubMoy, they had built their champas in a sector they called, honoring its history and vocation, “El Apagón” [“The Blackout”]. It is located in front of the place where the fraternal doctors and health promoters settled, who, not to be left behind, baptized their place with the suggestive name of “Lava tu mano y no estés jodiendo” [“Wash your hand and don’t be a nuisance.”]

Both groups were organized so that, in turns, while one part carried out the work necessary to survive, the other dedicated itself to creating all kinds of devices and ingenuities in applied science; and, in the case of fraternal ones, to preventive health, as well as to attend to more complicated medical cases.

As far as “Applied Science” is concerned, although they had not managed to produce enough energy for the operating room, it could be expected that in the next dance-meeting, there would be enough to turn on the microphone, a pair of speakers and, perhaps, maybe, God willing, the keyboard.

And the Captain? Well, when they run into him, those form the collective shout at him and mock him, saying: “My Captain Frankenstein! How is the bionic bicycle going?” The captain laughs and responds: “Cinetíficos necios que acusais al capi sin razón, sin ver que sois vos la ocasión de lo mismo que culpáis. Algún día.” [“Silly, you scientists – so very adept at wrongly faulting the Cappy, not seeing you’re alone to blame for faults you plant in Cappy’s mind. Some day».]

The “Dog” is still in the workshop, fragmented, surrounded by tools and all kinds of iron, wire, boards and nails. Every fruitless dawn, the captain throws down the hammer, cursing and conjuring: “someday, someday.”

-*-

Huh? Are you surprised that, in this hypothetical situation, this group of applied sciences has arrived first?

Well, if the sciences are not able to glimpse the day after, then what are the sciences for?

If “A then B” and you have all the elements to state “A”, it follows that “B” is the case.

Ergo: as the name of the community kitchen says (where the Applied Science collective has now caused a riot by using spoons to demonstrate a scientific principle applied to catapults… with pumpkin candy – science is one thing and aim is another): “No dejes para mañana lo que te puedas zampar hoy” [“Don’t put off until tomorrow what you can eat today.”]

Of course, in its scientific equivalent…

Oh, oh, Doña Juanita has come out brandishing a giant frying pan in one hand, and an XXXL ladle in the other, to exhort the diners to dialogue between science and art. The captain, protected behind trench of “comales” and pots, with a “Predator” model protective helmet, signals to the musicians to start with the song “Yo no fui” [“It was not me”], by Consuelito Velázquez: “si te vienen a contar…” [“if someone comes and tells you…”]

To be continued…

From the scientific bicycle workshop “My Grandma on idem”.