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The Tangled Origins of the Caduceus

The Caduceus is one of the most recognizable symbols of medicine, but its history is as twisted and complex as the creatures it portrays. Depicted as a staff with two serpents intertwined, capped with wings, its origins and meaning have long been subjects of debate. For one, are the creatures even snakes? Some have suggested the Caduceus might represent guinea worms—parasitic invaders that can grow up to a meter long. Removing these worms required a methodical wrapping process, often done around a stick. It’s a harrowing image, but one fitting for a symbol of medicine's triumph over affliction.

Further complicating the symbol’s history is its association with Hermes, the Greek god of commerce, thieves, and transitions. Hermes' staff, the Caduceus, is most closely linked to his role as a guide to the underworld rather than a healer. This connection feels at odds with medicine’s purpose of preserving life, leading many to question how the Caduceus became synonymous with healthcare.

A possible explanation lies in the US Army's Medical Department, which adopted the Caduceus in the early 20th century. Some argue this was a simple mistake—a confusion between the Caduceus and the Asklepian, the single-serpent staff of Asclepius, who discovered the art of healing and became the god of medicine. Others suggest the choice was intentional, with the Caduceus symbolizing neutrality rather than healing. By invoking Hermes, the Army sought to communicate that medical personnel were noncombatants, protected under the laws of war.

But intent doesn’t always dictate legacy. Over time, the Caduceus has come to mean medicine to the public, regardless of its historical or mythological appropriateness. Its meaning today derives not from its origins but from its usage—proof that symbols, like traditions, gain significance through collective practice and belief.

In much the same way, Wednesday Nights have come to signify something special—not through myth but through experience. They’ve come to mean good times, great company, and a shared tradition. Join us at Wednesday Night Cuttle tonight at 8:30pm EST and wrap yourself around an evening of fun-filled adventure!

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Counting Avocados - WNC 2024-12-11

Avogadro’s number, 6.022 x 10^23, is one of the most fundamental constants in chemistry. It’s the bridge between the microscopic and macroscopic worlds, linking the atomic scale to everyday quantities. When we say that one mole of a substance contains this many particles—whether atoms, molecules, or ions—we’re equipping ourselves to measure and calculate chemical reactions on a practical, human-friendly scale. Without it, balancing equations and determining molar masses would be nearly impossible.

But have you ever wondered why Avogadro’s number is exactly 6.022 x 10^23 Why not a clean 10^23, or even 10^24? At first glance, it might seem arbitrary, like the result of a historical coin flip. However, the value is deeply tied to the definition of the atomic mass unit (amu), historical measurements, and the practicalities of making the gram a useful unit for chemistry. In particular, the specific choice of Avagadro’s number was empirically determined in order to ensure that 1 mole of carbon-12 atoms would weight exactly 12 grams and that 1 atom of carbon-12 would weigh exactly 12 amu.

Could we redefine the system with a simpler number, like 10^23? Sure! The periodic table would stay the same in terms of relative relationships between elements, and chemical calculations would still work. The values for molar masses and the atomic mass unit would shift, but everything would scale proportionally. In fact, choosing a rounder number might simplify certain calculations, but it would also disrupt the precise ties we’ve developed over centuries between natural constants and real-world measurements.

So while 6.022 x 10^23 isn’t inevitable, it’s not arbitrary either. It’s a reflection of practical choices and historical context—an established and esteemed cornerstone of science. When faced with a myriad of choices, one can often find comfort and value in choosing a cherished classic. So when considering the infinite ways you might spend your evening tonight, remember that Wednesday Night Cuttle tonight at 8:30pm EST is the classically treasured choice that will bring you constant joy.

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On FOMO

FOMO, or “fear of missing out” has become one of the hallmark emotional sentiments of our time. In a progressively more globalized world where the spectacular accomplishments and idle past-times of our peers are constantly at our fingertips, we are constantly aware of the things we could be doing. The things we wish we were doing. The fun we could be having, the progress we could be making, and the satisfaction we would have if we could only…something.

But would the thing we’re missing really make us happy? Often not. The grass is always greener on the other side if we want it to be. It’s easy to agonize over our choices when we assume that one of them is right and the rest of them are wrong. But many times the stakes are low. It doesn’t really matter what you order for dinner at a new restaurant, so why beat yourself up over whether you should have ordered the fish?

This is sometimes easier to see when we remember that our choices are rarely binary. There are usually a zillion things we could do at any given moment. We’re not just missing out on one thing, we’re missing out on nearly everything, all the time. That’s life! We can only be in one place at one time and at any given time we are not doing enormously more things than we’re doing. We have every opportunity to be miserable about that fact, but we don’t have to.

Perhaps the difference between enjoying what we’re doing and pining over whatever we aren’t is more about our own attitude than it is about which option is better. Perhaps the key to making peace with missing out is to find joy and satisfaction in whatever we choose to do. Perhaps you’ll join us for Wednesday Night Cuttle tonight at 8:30pm EST and find you want for nothing

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Where am I?

I appear, looking at my own brain in a fabulous fountain/vat on a pedestal in front of whirring computer tape drives (remember those?), and wondering why I am saying, ‘Here I am staring at my own brain in a vat,’ instead of, ‘Here I am, in a vat, being stared at by my own eyes.’

In his thought experiment Where Am I?, Daniel Dennett unravels the concept of selfhood with humor and existential perplexity. The story follows a man who undergoes a unique operation, leaving his body controlled by a brain stored in a vat. The narrator grapples with an extraordinary question: if the brain is the seat of thought and identity, is he the brain in the vat, or the body carrying out its commands? Dennett playfully teases apart the sense of “I,” showing how the self is tied up in relationships between thought, perspective, and physicality.

Where do we reside? Is it in our minds, our bodies, or perhaps somewhere in-between? These questions are as slippery as they are profound, but one certainty shines through with transcendent clarity: tonight, we know exactly where you’ll be—at Wednesday Night Cuttle at 8:30pm EST.

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In 1665, a Dutch scientist named Christiaan Huygens was studying pendulum clocks when he noticed something strange. He had two clocks hanging on the same wooden beam, and no matter how he started them, they would eventually sync up, their pendulums swinging in perfect harmony. This odd little discovery—now called the metronome phenomenon—has fascinated thinkers for centuries. It’s not just clocks and metronomes, either. Fireflies flash together, drummers fall into rhythm, even heart cells in a dish can synchronize their beats. It’s as if the universe itself is nudging everything toward connection and unity. So what’s the most human example of this phenomenon? Easy: joining us for Wednesday Night Cuttle tonight at 8:30pm EST on Cuttle.cards. Come find your rhythm with us, and let’s swing together in perfect sync. Dive Deep, Cuttlers!

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On being Human

When giving one of his many lectures, the great greek philosopher Plato once defined a [Hu]man as “a featherless biped” to the agreement and applause of his pupils. The next day, Diagones the Cynic, ever the contrarian, brought a rooster to Plato’s school, plucked it, and marched it into Plato’s lecture hall for all to see, declaring, “Behold! Plato’s Man!” This simple joke has echoed over millennia, in part because it pokes fun at one of the most famous thinkers in western history, and in part because it highlights the elusiveness of our essential nature. What makes us human?What makes humans special? Throughout history, many have tried to define human beings in a way that showcases our uniqueness in the universe—and all such definitions have fallen short under further analysis. Crows use tools. Apes can learn sign language. Heck, “Pigcasso” has made more beautiful paintings than I ever will...

Perhaps human nature can’t be reduced to any single trait. Perhaps Diogones will always have the last laugh. Oh wait no I got it. Only human beings will join us for Wednesday Night Cuttle tonight at 8:30pm EST to enjoy an evening of great times in good company. Mystery solved; phew. Dive Deep, Cuttlers!

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The landscape of mental health discourse is constantly evolving. As our understanding of the conditions people experience and the challenges they face deepens, so too does our ability to empathize, to cope with our own struggles, and to help each other deepens as well.

ADHD is one of the most commonly diagnosed mental health conditions, and it is often discussed as if it were a singular monolith, flattening the breadth of people’s experience into a caricature of a fidgety school kid who can’t sit still. In reality, everyone has their own experience and we are all poised to be more compassionate when we acknowledge this fact. Understanding people’s experience can sometimes be aided by the use of conceptual lenses for breaking a large, multifaceted diagnosis into parts. Two of the aspects of attention that we could consider in this light are attentional flexibility and attentional control.

Attentional flexibility (more technically phasic alertness) is the brain’s capacity to adapt and shift focus as new information comes in. It’s what lets us pick up on something unexpected, pivot, and explore possibilities. It is sometimes referred to as an implicit, “bottom-up” system because it is responsible for adapting to stimuli coming from the environment on the fly. A deficit of attentional flexibility can result in fixation, an overly rigid focus that fails to adapt to new information, or one that takes an excessive amount of time to account for new information as it is processed.

Attentional control is a “top-down” system for consciously maintaining focus on something of your choice. Deficits here can manifest as a meandering stream of consciousness, or a short endurance for focusing on a single task, concept, or line of thought.

Notice that the mechanisms of attentional flexibility and control are not deficits or symptoms; they are neuropsychological systems that we all share. Understanding these dimensions of cognitive function (and impairment) can empower us to be more thoughtful about our own experience, our goals for self improvement, and our coping strategies. It can also facilitate a more empathetic understanding of the specific challenges other people face. We would all do well to improve our own faculties in this regard, and to deepen our awareness of their functions in our lives, and of the people around us.

If only there were some sort of environment where we could cultivate and practice these cognitive skills, creating and enacting plans that change fluidly as new information surfaces. A warm and welcoming place where our successes are recognized and our failures are all in good fun. If you know anything that sounds like that lmk; it sounds great.

Anywho join us for Wednesday Night Cuttle tonight at 8:30pm EST. It’s a good time, in good company — and it’s good for your brain!

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Today's WNC announcement is late -- sorry!

I am halfway through writing a Wednesday Night Cuttle announcement about ADHD but now I’m realizing that by the time I’m done it will be too late to announce the event. I hope you’ll bear with me in understanding why this is late and that I do plan a more thoughtful announcement than I’m able to give you here. Thank you for your patient understanding! It feels ironic to be confessing that my treatise on ADHD is late (I’ll confess a difficultly staying on task played a role there). That could probably be a good topic for an announcement, honestly. Maybe something about how irony has many forms, some intended, and some circumstantial. Something something things are more than they seem. But I digress. All that is to say you should join us for Wednesday Night Cuttle tonight at 8:30pm EST. I promise it will be worth your attention

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On the Good Life

Philosophy often aims to answer a seemingly simple question: "How can I lead a good life?" In theory, it's meant to guide us through the challenges of our daily existence, but sometimes that essential purpose gets buried in academic abstraction. It's easy to lose sight of the practical wisdom philosophy can offer when it detaches itself from the real, everyday struggles that constitute the substance of our lives. We could spend all day debating the metaphysical implications of the Ship of Theseus, but would this truly enrich our lives? Or would it be mere naval gazing?

With that in mind, here's a simple mantra for your consideration: Do the right thing, well, now. It may not resolve every complex dilemma we face, but it can serve as a compass in moments of uncertainty. It reminds us to act with integrity, to give our best effort, and to live fully in the present.

Sometimes living well is simple, even when it is challenging. Sometimes the most rewarding choices are the ones right in front of us. I’m sure when the time comes, you will choose well. Which of course means joining us for Wednesday Night Cuttle tonight at 8:30pm EST — after all, there’s no better way to live your best life.

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Topologists are never beating the hole fascination accusations

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Have you ever noticed how the sound of a siren changes as the car making it passes you? This shift in pitch is called the Doppler effect, and it happens because the waves from the siren are compressed when it’s moving towards you, and stretched as it moves away. The same principle applies to light, which is how we have come to understand something far more profound—the expansion of the universe.

When we look up at the stars, especially those that are farthest away, we notice their light is “red-shifted.” Just like the siren, the light is stretched out, becoming redder as these stars move away from us. But it’s not just the stars themselves that are in motion—space itself is expanding, carrying the stars farther away. This realization is one of the most astounding insights in modern science: space is more than some static environment in which life and change happen. The universe itself is growing, changing, and evolving on a cosmic scale.

Perhaps the mundane is more than it appears. Perhaps everyday experiences, when examined closely, can guide us toward understanding even the deepest mysteries. Perhaps you’ll join us for Wednesday Night Cuttle tonight at 8:30pm EST - where subtle shifts may bring the brightest discoveries.

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Remind me how it goes again?

Have you ever found yourself trying to remember something important and wishing you had a trick up your sleeve to make it easier? That's where mnemonic devices come in. These clever tricks help us remember things by using simple aids like acronyms, acrostics, and mind palaces.

Acronyms: Remember ROYGBIV for the colors of the rainbow? Red, Orange, Yellow, Green, Blue, Indigo, Violet. Acronyms create a handy shortcut by using the first letter of each word you need to remember.

Acrostics: Sortof like long-form acronyms, Acrostics are phrases, sentences or paragraphs where the first letter of each word in the phrase spells out the thing you’re trying to remember. For example, music students are frequently taught “Every Good Boy Deserves Fudge” to remember the line notes in the treble clef: EGBDF.

Mind Palaces: By imagining a familiar place in your mind and assigning each room or object a piece of information you want to remember, you can weave them all together into a visualization of physical space. When you imagine walking through your mind palace, you can retrieve each memory as if you were using landmarks to navigate a journey.

The underlying principle of these and other mnemonic techniques is that increasing the number of connections to a concept makes it more retrievable by providing more avenues from which to access it. The connections can be anything, even if they seem ridiculous; the more associations you make, and the more memorable those associations are, the easier it will be to remember any given idea.

Perhaps circuitous and even seemingly irrelevant connections can help us remember the important things in life. Perhaps reminders can be both stupid and useful, simultaneously. Perhaps this post makes no sense and has no point — but perhaps it will help you remember to join us for Wednesday Night Cuttle tonight at 8:30 pm EST. Join us for an evening you’ll never forget.

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O(Yeah)

In computer science, Big O notation is a fundamental concept used to describe the efficiency of algorithms, particularly in terms of time and space complexity. It gives us a way to quantify how an algorithm's performance scales with the size of its input. By focusing on the worst-case scenario, Big O helps us understand and compare the efficiency of different approaches.

However, the applications of Big O notation are more nuanced in actual software engineering. Real-world algorithms often execute with variable and sometimes small amounts of data. Big O notation describes how performance scales as the inputs scale towards infinitely big data sets; the fastest way to process a million numbers might not be the fastest way to process a hundred. Moreover, in real software, user experience often matters more than pure performance. For instance, a clear loading state might be more important than slightly improving speed. This is because users value knowing that something is happening over waiting a fraction of a second less without any feedback.

In a progressively more fast paced world that continually stresses immediacy, perhaps there is still more benefit to be found in a good experience than there is in a fast one. Perhaps what to optimize comes down to what we prioritize. Perhaps you’ll join us for Wednesday Night Cuttle tonight at 8:30pm EST and find it was worth the wait.

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When you know, you know, you know?

Richard Garfield, world-renowned game designer and inventor of Magic: The Gathering, uses an interesting concept to measure the value that hidden information plays in card games as a dimension of strategic depth. He asks himself, "How much (and in what ways) would my play change if I knew exactly what cards my opponent had?" The basic idea is that the more impactful perfect knowledge would be on your decision-making, the more interesting the game is among hidden information games. Such games reward ferreting out your opponent's secrets while keeping your own close to the chest — until it is too late to stop you.

In Cuttle, the glasses eight makes this concept more than theoretical; it’s a direct part of the actual game strategy. This puts an unusually concrete weight on the value that hidden information plays in the game. No one will disagree that knowing your opponent's cards in Cuttle confers a distinct advantage. It enables you to find offensive and defensive lines of play that maximize the efficiency of your cards, squeaking out wins with moves that would otherwise be highly risky. Perhaps that two-for-one ace is safe to play because your opponent doesn’t have a counter. Or maybe your opponent simple doesn’t have an answer to an all out offense of simple points.

However, playing the glasses eight costs your turn and a card in your hand, effectively denying you both the chance to draw a card and the direct use of the eight itself if things come to an immediate race to the finish. So while no one denies that having a glasses eight is highly useful, whether and when it is worth playing a glasses eight is one of the most highly debated points of Cuttle strategy across all levels of play.

If measuring the value of hidden information in Cuttle can be muddy, it is even more difficult in real life. We are rarely afforded the opportunity to reflect on and learn from what we could have done if we knew everything we needed to know, right when we needed it.

Perhaps knowledge is its own reward. Perhaps understanding how to leverage information will give you the edge you need. Perhaps you'll join us for Wednesday Night Cuttle tonight at 8:30pm EST and see just what you've been missing.

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In music theory, each major key has a relative minor key that shares the same notes but recontextualizes them to evoke different feelings. For instance, C major and A minor consist of the same pitches, yet C major is often perceived as bright and uplifting, while A minor carries a more somber and reflective tone. This shift in emotional landscape from the same set of notes illustrates the powerful impact of context on our perception.

The relationship between major and minor chords within a key is similarly interdependent. The brightness of a major chord feels particularly radiant when contrasted with the darkness of its relative minor. This interplay creates a dynamic balance in music, highlighting how our experiences of joy are enriched by our understanding of sorrow. The major and minor chords rely on each other to define their unique qualities, much like our emotions do in life.

Perhaps our joys are joyful because of our sorrows. Perhaps our triumphs are made valiant in the wake of our defeats. Perhaps you’re thinking of joining us for Wednesday Night Cuttle tonight at 8:30pm EST because win or lose, it sounds like a damn good time.

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This too, shall pass

Wednesday, June 5th, 2024

There’s a strange kind of sadness that can creep in when you’re enjoying a delicious meal, knowing it will soon be over. The last few bites are savored with a twinge of regret, a premature mourning for the empty plate to come. This feeling isn’t confined to meals; it can touch the end of a lovely conversation, the last moments of a vacation, or even the setting sun at the close of a beautiful day.

On a grander scale, this anxiety extends to our own lives. We live with the awareness that our time here is finite, and this knowledge can cast a shadow over our days. The thought of our own mortality often looms large, accompanied by the even more unfathomable concept of the universe's eventual end in great entropic silence. It’s a melancholy reflection: everything we know and cherish will one day cease to be.

But the real tragedy is not the ending itself, but how our fear of it intrudes upon the present. When we focus too much on the impending conclusion, we rob ourselves of the joy and richness of the moment. We mourn the loss of things that have just begun and, in doing so, we prevent ourselves from fully experiencing and enjoying them. Our preoccupation with the end makes it harder to savor the here and now.

Presentness is our antidote. By grounding ourselves in the current moment, we can fully appreciate our experiences without being distressed by their impermanence. This mindfulness allows us to savor life’s pleasures and engage deeply with the world around us, free from the shadow of inevitable endings.

This principle is most challenging to apply to the most important areas of our lives—our relationships, our passions, our deepest joys. Yet, it is here that the effort is most worthwhile. This means, of course, that there is no greater challenge, nor accomplishment then enduring the fact that Wednesday Night Cuttle tonight at 8:30pm EST will eventually be over. Well, if nothing lasts forever, let’s have a damn good time while it does.

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Euclid's Elements, written around 300 BCE, laid the foundations for what we now call Euclidean geometry. This geometry is based on five simple postulates, including the famous parallel postulate: given a line and a point not on the line, there is exactly one line parallel to the original line that passes through the point. For centuries, these postulates were considered the absolute truths of geometric reality.

But what if they aren't? What if, instead, we could explore a realm where the rules are different? Non-Euclidean geometry does just that. In the 19th century, mathematicians like Gauss, Lobachevsky, and Riemann began questioning these age-old assumptions, and discovered geometries where the parallel postulate does not hold. In hyperbolic geometry, through a point not on a line, there are infinitely many lines parallel to the original. In spherical geometry, no parallels exist at all, as all lines eventually intersect.

These new geometries have profound implications. They not only provide alternative ways of understanding space but also deepen our understanding of the universe. For instance, Einstein's theory of General Relativity describes gravity as the curvature of spacetime, a concept deeply rooted in non-Euclidean geometry. Our reality, it seems, is far more flexible and fascinating than we ever imagined under the rigid constraints of Euclidean space. Questioning assumptions expands our minds and enriches our lives. We're better off when we take the time to ponder what we haven’t previously considered. Perhaps embracing new perspectives is the key to intellectual and personal growth. Perhaps we should all seek opportunities to question our decisions and strategies, and to adapt to unexpected challenges. So join us for Wednesday Night Cuttle tonight at 8:30pm EST — it just might blow your mind.