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Complex Numbers
Complex Numbers
A complex number is expressed in the standard form a + bi, where a and b are real numbers and i is defined by i^2 = -1 (that is, i is the square root of -1). For example, 3 + 2i is a complex number.
The bi term is often referred to as an imaginary number (though this may be misleading, as it is no more "imaginary" than the symbolic abstractions we know as the "real" numbers). Thus, every complex number has a real part, a, and an imaginary part, bi.
Complex numbers are often represented on a graph known as the "complex plane," where the horizontal axis represents the infinity of real numbers, and the vertical axis represents the infinity of imaginary numbers. Thus, each complex number has a unique representation on the complex plane: some closer to real; others, more imaginary. If a = b, the number is equal parts real and imaginary.
Very simple transformations applied to numbers in the complex plane can lead to fractal structures of enormous intricacy and astonishing beauty.
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I haven't linked the Daily Fail in a while.
'A bikini bug ate me alive': The horrifying story of what happened when this woman left her swimwear to dry in the sun
...The trip was a great success, and as I took the taxi to the airport I was pleased to see that I had only one mosquito bite. It was on the inside of my left upper arm, by the seam of my T-shirt. Never mind, I thought, it's not even itchy: it will be kept cool in the plane's air conditioning and will be almost gone by the time I'm back. ...
http://www.dailymail.co.uk/health/article-1193233/A-bikini-bug-ate-alive--The-ho...
Ew. Ew. Ew.
Two days later, I was no longer ill, but the bite was so uniquely painful that I was exhausted by it. It was relentless. It was now very raised, and very yellow. I was as repulsed as I was pained by it.
This is where Americans go to the doctor.
At about 4am, I had turned the light on and was staring at the bite. Suddenly, it seemed to be moving. I must be very, very tired, I reasoned.
This is beyond the point where Americans go to the doctor. This is the part of the horror movie when the ditzy blonde gets what she deserv... oh.
The next morning, I headed to a meeting in North London.
Note: NOT a medical meeting.
As the train passed the stop for Hampstead, very close to the Royal Free Hospital, I decided on the spur of the moment to have it dressed by a professional.
YA THINK??!
I'd had no sleep for three days and was in no state to meet the most devastatingly handsome doctor I had ever seen, but there he was. I was swooning with pain, but I swooned some more.
What the effing crap? Chick is about to hatch Alien and all she can think of is how hot the doctor is? Christ on a boat, I know Brits are raised to have a stiff upper lip, but this chick's is made of fucking cast iron.
Half a tub was slathered over the area, then a clear, airtight plastic dressing was fixed on top. 'Go shopping and come back in three hours,' I was told.
Ignoring for the moment the horrid use of passive voice, which is not excusable even in Tory tabloids, again: What is she, British or Spartan?
Now I understood why maggots were used to clean wounds in the past: it was immaculate.
Still are, actually. See #5 here:
http://www.cracked.com/article_17446_6-disgusting-ways-animals-can-improve-your-... |
© Copyright 2025 Robert Waltz (UN: cathartes02 at Writing.Com). All rights reserved. Robert Waltz has granted InkSpot.Com, its affiliates and its syndicates non-exclusive rights to display this work.
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