Viewpoint.

In the morning, they both didn't feel like writing the exam. 
She thought, 'I'm set. I don't need to write this.' 
He thought, 'I'm screwed anyway. What's the use?'

bored at 4am #1

the ronald opus story. (incidentally untrue) | Rough model
(read about it on fb, or on wiki, or whereever.)

assumptions: no two factors have a correlation. if they do, then the prob. drops even further. i'll update this model someday, maybe, if i'm bored enough again.


suicide rate in america: 19.0(male), 11.8(total) /per lakh people

fictional story, assuming him to be middle aged, the sex ratio is  1.00(15-64), and 0.75(65+)
therefore, the probability that he commits suicide is 19.0/(2*10000)

now, the number of people on an average (civilians) who own a firearm in the states is app. 34%

the probability that a family member has access to this firearm is proportional to the trust they place in each other, from divorce rates, estrangement and breach-of-promise suits, and other such cases, an estimate of this would be roughly 79%

23,237 accidental shootings in 2000 (since no other data is available, i assume its remained roughly constant since then), where the population then was 281,421,906. => 0.00008257

last two things:
spatial coincidence(rough)
area of an average flat is between 900-1000 sq.ft
Wall height is between 9.5-11.5 ft.
hence, considering that the bullet could be fired in any direction (the bias towards the direction of the wife is ignored), the probability that it will choose a spot where the trajectory would take it in the direction of opus is (considering his area as around 1sq.ft -> fatal only)
total surface area => 30ft*10ft*4+900sq.ft
prob => 1sq.ft/tot.area = 1/2100 = 0.00047619

the last thing i could think of (i might be forgetting factors that could possibly reduce the probability even further, but i'm being unduly optimistic here.), is the time factor.

temporal coincidence(rough)
it was two weeks since the attempted motherkilling setup -> average manifestation time of depression is three days, so thats 11 days that he's been contemplating suicide. that's 11*24*3600 seconds
assume the father goes into a psychotic gun-threatening rage every two-three days for a span of about 15 mins, then the amount of time pointing the gun around is about 15*60*7 seconds
thus, the probability that the events will temporally coincide is
prob => 15*60*(7 to 4.667)/11*24*3600 = 0.006628788 to 0.004419508

from these, the probability that this incident would occur is approximately between, (considering that the time and place were exactly as is, for all time and space. read multiverse theories for more.)

0.210694*10^-7 to 0.261704*10^-7

factoring in spatial and temporal conincidence factors, the probability further drops to about,

P = [Plower,Pupper] == [0.47827E-14,0.82619E-13].

please do point out flaws/improvements if you can think of any.

References:
"U.S.A. Suicide: 2006 Official Final Data". American Association of Suicidology.
Lott, John, John E. Whitley (2001). "Safe-Storage Gun Laws: Accidental Deaths, Suicides, and Crime". Journal of Law and Economics
"03: Housing space standards: a national perspective" Mike Roys, RIBA '08
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ronald_Opus
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Suicide_in_the_United_States
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/List_of_countries_by_sex_ratio
http://www.americanfirearms.org/statistics.php
http://www.smallarmssurvey.org/publications/by-type/yearbook/small-arms-survey-2007.html
http://www.reuters.com/article/2007/04/17/us-usa-crime-shootings-guns-idUSN1743414020070417
http://www.snopes.com/horrors/freakish/opus.asp

ps. i've an exam t'moro. i should probably go study now.

Gedanken

Think, for a second. All right.
Now think of something else.
What did you think of?

Think of all the things that you could have thought of, from musing upon the past, to contemplating the infinite excesses of the future, to present counterfactuals, to imaginaria, problems, solutions, corundums and doldrums. Think of all the good times that simply rolled, and those that sat like a rabid hippopotamus surrounded by the vertical sea. And all the birds, the bees and the potatoes.

Now go in a step further and refine.

Think not of counterfactuals, of musings of what could have been, and what might have been if the past had been what it could have been. What has happened, has happened, and you are where you are, for all the multiverses in all of their infinite wisdom cannot prove otherwise. At least, not yet.

Think, in the meanwhile, for you surely you ought to have freed up some space among all that grey matter, of what could be, depending only on what you do now. Of conclusions, results and outcomes based on non predeterminate input actions, and of possibilities, and the probabilities of their happening. Fantasize about the wide world, and everything that is in, on, off, remotely connected to, abrstactly visualizable, completely irrational, seemingly logical nuances that comprise it. It takes all kinds.

Sum them up over all of the dimensions that you can think of.
You get one, no?

Then think of the fact that you could actually have done something instead of simply sitting and thinking.

And finally, think of the cat in the box, and the fact that indeterminacy is a way of life. So is asymmetry, by the way. And that the blackness is where the light seems brightest. Nope, not metaphors. only tautologies.

And if in the course of these contemplations you happen to hit upon the solutions to one of humanity's greatest mysteries, then do one of the following:

1. if its a mathematical theorem, relax. take a shower. and then rush out in the middle and run around shouting 'eureka' till you get arrested for public indecency, or pelted with stones.
2. if its an earth changing physical revelation about the matter and fabric of the universe, then go to germany and occupy a position at the patent office over there.
3. if you realise who the one true love of your life is, then call her up. (assume) Either it will work out, or it wont. no sense in sitting and thinking. you've done that enough already.
4. if its a solution to world peace (fight less), the food shortage (grow more potatoes), AIDS (porn/condoms), the depleting ozone layer(fart less), or what the girl next door is wearing today (black lace, one can always wish, can't they) and any of the ten billion thousand other problems, then mail us at ohmygodifoundit@dontpissmeoff.com. Actually, no.
5. and if you found the answer to life, the universe and everything, then go cry in a corner. Somebody's done that already.

And if that isn't an experiment enough, my dear, then what is?

Not the first...

There's so much sense in the world that its sometimes baffling. So, in my best slipshod, broken english I have tried to convey er... stuff.

Wise old nipponese saying that I just made up,
"Life is like an orange, peel it for the juice within."

Now,  read on.

Onbus, inbus , redbus, buses with ladders, x double dot is increasing, and the dodo can not even reply to that.
To do or not to do, why is that a question?

Wouldn’t a cooked dodo be analogous to a stuffed tharki?

Good morning, to people so good, people so sad, people in people, and those in the bad.

So you’re twenty two? No, I’m twenty too. That’s what I said. Okay, we’re fine then.

Quiet reflection by us strong, silent people can lead to some rather expected conclusions. Un?

Written matter is that of zeros and ones, but bleeds and marks wait for no one, least of all some highly overdue chancellors and all their associated paraphernalia. What a way to get work done, no wonder some set standards by institutions like ours.

As it would be, devices in communicado choose a strange time (but coherent, completely so) to go defunct, sometimes mute, at other times allowing me usage of hallows of sacred communication.

Worried looking inspectors with malfunctioning pectorals bashing open doors, innuendoes fly everywhere, people heltering and skeltering. Very inspiring. The jokes are lame enough now, thank you.

The hallows were venerated and the bells tolled. ‘tisn’t a wonder heads hadn’t rolled. With so many people in the pot, the orgy was rather orgic, with big guys and their flying locks, and hallowed names turning into versions spawned by cradles of filth, god alone knows why they did not take a line out. I forgot, okay, I’m human.  Jeez.
Four strings for a lifetime. Nah, sounds better in native hindi.

Beera, beera, beera a guy’s gotta have balls to  do that kind of stuff. I admire such persistence. Limpet like, some might call it, others going so far as to brand them a leech, a desperate kind of chappie. But then, even ranjha was that kinda fella, wasn’t he? Just don’t sing in the bathroom, will you? You’ve got culture to handle, now.

Seccie is now ex, with a dopy and a joint in tow. What will classic do? The file handlers are parameters with random seed variables, but even that is ultimately a pseudorandom serie. We now have bodom, and jhat, and heaven knows a lot more, but which ones will take up the mantle. Wait, what mantle?

So if we have miniature dodos, is it all right to call him dad again?

Why me? This one says. But he’s the mos’t illustrious one, mind you. Never trust these whiny ones, I tell you. Just ask him to spout that hindi of his. Bloody bhasha ka saudagar. Just get him some java, tell him to change his scale and send him off to waves.

One small step for man, one giant leap for some others. (please don’t hit me.) A proclivity for physical comebacks only limited by the amount of torque one can muster. After all, r x F has to be small if r is…

A positive slew of birthdays this season, not much to rant about, but still. The planning among the amazonians include intricate (often) effectively planned efforts (still don’t know who ‘miss 100% attendance’ was, though.) while we neanthertals prefer a sound bash (by us), followed by a sound bash (by the unlucky feller who survived to tell another year’s tale). C’est la vie.

Speaking of which, that craphunt of ours gave us the opportunity to examine said waves in much more detail. Only wish I could be on those crests, going up and down, up and down…

Heterosexual company should be made mandatory, under grounds of illusionary sanity and what I can only call ‘groundedness’.

So you’re asleep, or comatose, isn’t it comma-toes.

Even nonsense has syntax, semantic is the rabble that defines chaos. Ordo ab chao, and all that.

There, there. too bad, so sad, better luck next time.

If you’re despairing as to why this isn’t making any sense, well my dear friend, your only problem is that you’re sane.

To talk about ‘anything, any damn thing’, has resulted in a phantasmagoria, ‘oops, stole chinker’s word, but it matters not, as this ‘ain’t a statement of purpose I’m typing. The infinite improbability of life, the universe and everything has resulted in a supply of topics that shalt not run out, in a mortal lifetime, at least. Anyone interested may contribute to the guide. For all that we talk about, well, there’s always that point when we finish, but there is no such thing as the end.

And another thing…