iSync without BlueTooth and extortionate eBay shipping fees

I got a new phone a couple of weeks back — a Motorola V265 flip phone — that seems to be working just fine. It’s a big step from the V120c I have been carrying for the past couple of years, what with the color screen, camera, and all.

Today, the nice USPS driver brought me a cable to hook up it to my iBook so I could use iSync. It was a bit of a gamble, since I didn’t know for sure if it would work. Once I got the cable connected — fiddly little connection that it is — it works. I can put all the listings in my Address Book into the phone, after having merged them.

So I paid $.97 for the cable (with the attendant mini-CD that I can’t use since I have a slot loading system) and the package shows $.98 paid for shipping. So the $10 or so for shipping and handling went where, exactly? <grumble: the joys of eBay . . . >

Anyway, it seems to work as far as getting data back and forth, and as a bonus the cable will charge the phone as well. I’m not sure the two address databases match, though since I seem to have multiple records for people with different contact methods (one for home phone, for cell phone, for email . . . ) rather than a single record with multiple ways to contact the person.

More as I explore this.

Is it better to be lucky or good?

Couple Build Become Blogging Trailblazers:

Husband-And-Wife Team Build Startup Into Blogging Trailblazer, Making Them Easier to Setup

So the Trotts made $11.5 million with the initial investment from Joi Ito, and now they report 7 million users between MovableType, TypePad, and LiveJournal.

Not bad. I don’t know how many are paying $4.95/month for TypePad, but that seems like a pretty nice revenue stream.

MT is a great way to start. Shame I couldn’t keep using it (and a shame so many other sites still do).

on phishing

I have gotten two phishing attempts so far today, one of which was quite convincing looking: it appeared in full PayPal livery.

That leads me to wonder why secure sites don’t clamp down on the use of their images with some rudimentary checking of HTTP_REFERER values: for phishers who are so lazy as to link to the images at paypal or ebay, have the server return a big skull and crossbones image with FRAUD in big letters under it.

Of course, some will simply copy the images to their own server and negate the effectiveness of that, but it might cut down on the risk for some intended victims.

a-ha! Actually, I probably knew this but ignored it

Reuters Health Information (2005-02-16): Carbohydrate type, not amount, linked to obesity:

Reuters Health Information (2005-02-16): Carbohydrate type, not amount, linked to obesity:
When it comes to carbohydrates, it’s not how much you eat, but which kind, that makes a difference to your bathroom scale, new research shows.

People who are overweight do not appear to eat more carbohydrates overall than people who weigh less, the researchers report in the American Journal of Epidemiology. However, they found that overweight people tend to eat more refined carbohydrates, such as white bread and pasta, which cause a rapid spike in blood sugar.

Two of my favorite foods, and I have noticed when I ate less pasta along with my increased exercise, I dropped a couple of pounds. So how much exercise do I need to eat more pasta?

AppleScript: automation for the rest of us

So in the course of publishing these sections of Flatland, I have found I needed to reformat and clean them up (sometimes for odd line breaks, other times for artifacts that textile would misinterpret). It boiled down to a few common operations, and after reading Gruber’s writeup on how AppleScript-ability makes for a world-beating OS X app, it struck me that I have rarely used Applescript in OS X. I found myself playing with some the scripts that come with ecto (Thanks, Adriaan.) and realized it was worth another look.

So this time, when I copied from ecto to TextWrangler to use the search and replace options there, I turned on the Recording option in the Scripts menu and let it log my movements. The result?

tell application “TextWrangler”

activate
replace


using “•” searching in text 1 of text document 1 options {search mode:literal, starting at top:true, wrap around:false, backwards:false, case sensitive:false, match words:false, extend selection:false}

replace

using ” ” searching in text 1 of text document 1 options {search mode:literal, starting at top:true, wrap around:false, backwards:false, case sensitive:false, match words:false, extend selection:false}

replace “•” using


searching in text 1 of text document 1 options {search mode:literal, starting at top:true, wrap around:false, backwards:false, case sensitive:false, match words:false, extend selection:false}

replace “–” using ” — ” searching in text 1 of text document 1 options {search mode:literal, starting at top:true, wrap around:false, backwards:false, case sensitive:false, match words:false, extend selection:false}
replace ” ” using ” ” searching in text 1 of text document 1 options {search mode:literal, starting at top:true, wrap around:false, backwards:false, case sensitive:false, match words:false, extend selection:false}

end tell

And it works just fine. Faster than keystrokes, I can attest to that. I couldn’t have written this, based on what I know now, but I can now pick this apart and add or adjust some of the steps, with this as a template.

NB: if you try this — recording some steps you already perform — the results are stored in ~/Library/Application Support/${Application}/Scripts. You can then open your handiwork in the Script Editor (accessible through the Scripts menu) and see what you ended up with.

Now playing: Thanks For The Pepperonni by George Harrison from the album “All Things Must Pass [Disc 2]” | Get it (1)

Flatland, by Edwin A. Abbott

Flatland: Section 19 How, though the Sphere shewed me other mysteries of Spaceland, I still desire more; and what came of it

When I saw my poor brother led away to imprisonment, I attempted to leap down into the Council Chamber, desiring to intercede on his behalf, or at least bid him farewell. But I found that I had no motion of my own. I absolutely depended on the volition of my Guide, who said in gloomy tones, “Heed not thy brother; haply thou shalt have ample time hereafter to condole with him. Follow me.”

Once more we ascended into space. “Hitherto,” said the Sphere, “I have shewn you naught save Plane Figures and their interiors. Now I must introduce you to Solids, and reveal to you the plan upon which they are constructed. Behold this multitude of moveable square cards. See, I put one on another, not, as you supposed, Northward of the other, but ON the other. Now a second, now a third. See, I am building up a Solid by a multitude of Squares parallel to one another. Now the Solid is complete, being as high as it is long and broad, and we call it a Cube.”

“Pardon me, my Lord,” replied I; “but to my eye the appearance is as of an Irregular Figure whose inside is laid open to view; in other words, methinks I see no Solid, but a Plane such as we infer in Flatland; only of an Irregularity which betokens some monstrous criminal, so that the very sight of it is painful to my eyes.”

“True,” said the Sphere; “it appears to you a Plane, because you are not accustomed to light and shade and perspective; just as in Flatland a Hexagon would appear a Straight Line to one who has not the Art of Sight Recognition. But in reality it is a Solid, as you shall learn by the sense of Feeling.”

He then introduced me to the Cube, and I found that this marvellous Being was indeed no Plane, but a Solid; and that he was endowed with six plane sides and eight terminal points called solid angles; and I remembered the saying of the Sphere that just such a Creature as this would be formed by the Square moving, in Space, parallel to himself: and I rejoiced to think that so insignificant a Creature as I could in some sense be called the Progenitor of so illustrious an offspring.

But still I could not fully understand the meaning of what my Teacher had told me concerning “light” and “shade” and “perspective” and I did not hesitate to put my difficulties before him.

Were I to give the Sphere’s explanation of these matters, succinct and clear though it was, it would be tedious to an inhabitant of Space, who knows these things already. Suffice it, that by his lucid statements, and by changing the position of objects and lights, and by allowing me to feel the several objects and even his own sacred Person, he at last made all things clear to me, so that I could now readily distinguish between a Circle and a Sphere, a Plane Figure and a Solid.

This was the Climax, the Paradise, of my strange eventful History. Henceforth I have to relate the story of my miserable Fall: — most miserable, yet surely most undeserved! For why should the thirst for knowledge be aroused, only to be disappointed and punished? My volition shrinks from the painful task of recalling my humiliation; yet, like a second Prometheus, I will endure this and worse, if by any means I may arouse in the interiors of Plane and Solid Humanity a spirit of rebellion against the Conceit which would limit our Dimensions to Two or Three or any number short of Infinity. Away then with all personal considerations! Let me continue to the end, as I began, without further digressions or anticipations, pursuing the plain path of dispassionate History. The exact facts, the exact words, — and they are burnt in upon my brain, — shall be set down without alteration of an iota; and let my Readers judge between me and Destiny.

The Sphere would willingly have continued his lessons by indoctrinating me in the conformation of all regular Solids, Cylinders, Cones, Pyramids, Pentahedrons, Hexahedrons, Dodecahedrons, and Spheres: but I ventured to interrupt him. Not that I was wearied of knowledge. On the contrary, I thirsted for yet deeper and fuller draughts than he was offering to me.

“Pardon me,” said I, “O Thou Whom I must no longer address as the Perfection of all Beauty; but let me beg thee to vouchsafe thy servant a sight of thine interior.”

Sphere. My what?

I. Thine interior: thy stomach, thy intestines.

Sphere. Whence this ill-timed impertinent request? And what mean you by saying that I am no longer the Perfection of all Beauty?

I. My Lord, your own wisdom has taught me to aspire to One even more great, more beautiful, and more closely approximate to Perfection than yourself. As you yourself, superior to all Flatland forms, combine many Circles in One, so doubtless there is One above you who combines many Spheres in One Supreme Existence, surpassing even the Solids of Spaceland. And even as we, who are now in Space, look down on Flatland and see the insides of all things, so of a certainty there is yet above us some higher, purer region, whither thou dost surely purpose to lead me — O Thou Whom I shall always call, everywhere and in all Dimensions, my Priest, Philosopher, and Friend — some yet more spacious Space, some more dimensionable Dimensionality, from the vantage-ground of which we shall look down together upon the revealed insides of Solid things, and where thine own intestines, and those of thy kindred Spheres, will lie exposed to the view of the poor wandering exile from Flatland, to whom so much has already been vouchsafed.

Sphere. Pooh! Stuff! Enough of this trifling! The time is short, and much remains to be done before you are fit to proclaim the Gospel of Three Dimensions to your blind benighted countrymen in Flatland.

I. Nay, gracious Teacher, deny me not what I know it is in thy power to reform. Grant me but one glimpse of thine interior, and I am satisfied for ever, remaining henceforth thy docile pupil, thy unemacipable slave, ready to receive all thy teachings and to feed upon the words that fall from thy lips.

Sphere. Well, then, to content and silence you, let me say at once, I would shew you what you wish if I could; but I cannot. Would you have me turn my stomach inside out to oblige you?

I. But my Lord has shewn me the intestines of all my countrymen in the Land of Two Dimensions by taking me with him into the Land of Three. What therefore more easy than now to take his servant on a second journey into the blessed region of the Fourth Dimension, where I shall look down with him once more upon this land of Three Dimensions, and see the inside of every three-dimensioned house, the secrets of the solid earth, the treasures of the mines of Spaceland, and the intestines of every solid living creature, even the noble and adorable Spheres.

Sphere. But where is this land of Four Dimensions?

I. I know not: but doubtless my Teacher knows.

Sphere. Not I. There is no such land. The very idea of it is utterly inconceivable.

I. Not inconceivable, my Lord, to me, and therefore still less inconceivable to my Master. Nay, I despair not that, even here, in this region of Three Dimensions, your Lordship’s art may make the Fourth Dimension visible to me; just as in the Land of Two Dimensions my Teacher’s skill would fain have opened the eyes of his blind servant to the invisible presence of a Third Dimension, though I saw it not.

Let me recall the past. Was I not taught below that when I saw a Line and inferred a Plane, I in reality saw a Third unrecognized Dimension, not the same as brightness, called “height”? And does it not now follow that, in this region, when I see a Plane and infer a Solid, I really see a Fourth unrecognized Dimension, not the same as colour, but existent, though infinitesimal and incapable of measurement?

And besides this, there is the Argument from Analogy of Figures.

Sphere. Analogy! Nonsense: what analogy?

I. Your Lordship tempts his servant to see whether he remembers the revelations imparted to him. Trifle not with me, my Lord; I crave, I thirst, for more knowledge. Doubtless we cannot SEE that other higher Spaceland now, because we have no eye in our stomachs. But, just as there WAS the realm of Flatland, though that poor puny Lineland Monarch could neither turn to left nor right to discern it, and just as there WAS close at hand, and touching my frame, the land of Three Dimensions, though I, blind senseless wretch, had no power to touch it, no eye in my interior to discern it, so of a surety there is a Fourth Dimension, which my Lord perceives with the inner eye of thought. And that it must exist my Lord himself has taught me. Or can he have forgotten what he himself imparted to his servant?

In One Dimension, did not a moving Point produce a Line with TWO terminal points?

In Two Dimensions, did not a moving Line produce a Square with FOUR terminal points?

In Three Dimensions, did not a moving Square produce — did not this eye of mine behold it — that blessed Being, a Cube, with EIGHT terminal points?

And in Four Dimensions shall not a moving Cube — alas, for Analogy, and alas for the Progress of Truth, if it be not so — shall not, I say, the motion of a divine Cube result in a still more divine Organization with SIXTEEN terminal points?

Behold the infallible confirmation of the Series, 2, 4, 8, 16: is not this a Geometrical Progression? Is not this — if I might quote my Lord’s own words — “strictly according to Analogy”?

Again, was I not taught by my Lord that as in a Line there are TWO bounding Points, and in a Square there are FOUR bounding Lines, so in a Cube there must be SIX bounding Squares? Behold once more the confirming Series, 2, 4, 6: is not this an Arithmetical Progression? And consequently does it not of necessity follow that the more divine offspring of the divine Cube in the Land of Four Dimensions, must have 8 bounding Cubes: and is not this also, as my Lord has taught me to believe, “strictly according to Analogy”? O, my Lord, my Lord, behold, I cast myself in faith upon conjecture, not knowing the facts; and I appeal to your Lordship to confirm or deny my logical anticipations. If I am wrong, I yield, and will no longer demand a Fourth Dimension; but, if I am right, my Lord will listen to reason.

I ask therefore, is it, or is it not, the fact, that ere now your countrymen also have witnessed the descent of Beings of a higher order than their own, entering closed rooms, even as your Lordship entered mine, without the opening of doors or windows, and appearing and vanishing at will? On the reply to this question I am ready to stake everything. Deny it, and I am henceforth silent. Only vouchsafe an answer.

Sphere (AFTER A PAUSE). It is reported so. But men are divided in opinion as to the facts. And even granting the facts, they explain them in different ways. And in any case, however great may be the number of different explanations, no one has adopted or suggested the theory of a Fourth Dimension. Therefore, pray have done with this trifling, and let us return to business.

I. I was certain of it. I was certain that my anticipations would be fulfilled. And now have patience with me and answer me yet one more question, best of Teachers! Those who have thus appeared — no one knows whence — and have returned — no one knows whither — have they also contracted their sections and vanished somehow into that more Spacious Space, whither I now entreat you to conduct me?

Sphere (MOODILY). They have vanished, certainly — if they ever appeared. But most people say that these visions arose from the thought — you will not understand me — from the brain; from the perturbed angularity of the Seer.

I. Say they so? Oh, believe them not. Or if it indeed be so, that this other Space is really Thoughtland, then take me to that blessed Region where I in Thought shall see the insides of all solid things. There, before my ravished eye, a Cube moving in some altogether new direction, but strictly according to Analogy, so as to make every particle of his interior pass through a new kind of Space, with a wake of its own — shall create a still more perfect perfection than himself, with sixteen terminal Extra-solid angles, and Eight solid Cubes for his Perimeter. And once there, shall we stay our upward course? In that blessed region of Four Dimensions, shall we linger at the threshold of the Fifth, and not enter therein? Ah, no! Let us rather resolve that our ambition shall soar with our corporal ascent. Then, yielding to our intellectual onset, the gates of the Six Dimension shall fly open; after that a Seventh, and then an Eighth —

How long I should have continued I know not. In vain did the Sphere, in his voice of thunder, reiterate his command of silence, and threaten me with the direst penalties if I persisted. Nothing could stem the flood of my ecstatic aspirations. Perhaps I was to blame; but indeed I was intoxicated with the recent draughts of Truth to which he himself had introduced me. However, the end was not long in coming. My words were cut short by a crash outside, and a simultaneous crash inside me, which impelled me through space with a velocity that precluded speech. Down! down! down! I was rapidly descending; and I knew that return to Flatland was my doom. One glimpse, one last and never-to-be-forgotten glimpse I had of that dull level wilderness — which was now to become my Universe again — spread out before my eye. Then a darkness. Then a final, all-consummating thunder-peal; and, when I came to myself, I was once more a common creeping Square, in my Study at home, listening to the Peace-Cry of my approaching Wife.

Aaarrh. TV pirates!

Cory highlights the argument that

Sorry if I’m stating the obvious, but it’s television. Signals broadcast through the air. Sorry to burst the bubbles of the folks in Hollywood, but you can’t control the genie if you’re throwing it out of the bottle at the speed of light. Accept the fact that people have the right to record their television shows, and don’t complain when they trade them.

I think it helps to remember a key difference in how the TV markets are structured in US and the rest of the world. In the UK (and in Canada, at one time, perhaps even today), TV set owners were required to buy a TV license for their receivers. Those fees paid for commercial-free television of a quality unknown in the US market (Upstairs, Downstairs, Monty Python, the Hitchhiker’s Guide . . . ). While here in the US, advertisers pay for the programming and make a lot of the decisions about what get shown (ever wonder why the networks copy each other so aggressively? It’s not based on audience response alone. Does the name Jamie Kellner mean anything to you?). So yes, the signals are broadcast through the air, but in one market, people subscribe directly through their licenses, and in the other it’s an indirect relationship.

Guardian | Second sight:

Britain leads the world in piracy. We are responsible for 38.4% of TV downloads in the EU and 18.5% worldwide. Australia is second with 15.6% and the US a poor third on 7.3%. The reason is simple. The pirated programmes are mainly made in English by US companies and released earlier there than here. Top of the piracy charts is 24 (95,000 downloads an episode) followed by Star Trek: Enterprise (90,000).

This looks more like a business opportunity than a problem: if I was a cable operator or ISP, I would be trying to find a way to get that stuff into my network for resale, rather than have people jamming the network with duplicated outbound requests. I would be looking at what gets traded and trying make sure I have better quality versions on hand, as soon or sooner than the “pirates.” <aside>This is a big problem with the p2p nets: the quality is so variable, it’s not always worth bothering to look for stuff. If music files are so chaotic, how frustrating are video files?</aside>

This has always been a puzzle to me, how people assume that every market is structured identically. Ten years ago, I remember having to explain to people that free local phone calls were not the norm around the world. Imagine paying a per-minute charge for calls to a local access number for dial-up service, as well as the rates for the ISP service. And people wondered why internet usage was low outside the US.

non-drug sore throat remedy

My Son and Heir is being treated for strep, and I have had a sore throat for a few days: draw your own conclusions.

So I went into to get it checked out and while it didn’t register a positive culture on the spot, I was sent away with some things to try. One of this is a throat coating mixture of Benadryl®™ and Maalox®™ 1 tsp each. Interestingly, it works quite well at soothing the throat, and doesn’t taste quite as vile as expected. My secret might be due to the use of a small irrigation syringe left over from the days of medicating smaller patients. Mix the concoction in that, shake it, and squirt it up and past the tongue for best effect.

The LPA said my throat and roof of my mouth looked “viral”, ie red and inflamed, so we’ll see if the longer term culture registers anything. My guess is this is already on the ebb: swabbing the nastiness actually brought relief, rather than a more intense pain.

Now playing: If Not For You by George Harrison from the album “All Things Must Pass (Disc 1)” | Get it

everyone wants to be the friction

Bill’s Books:

Finally, if fans buy from our web site rather than Amazon or at a conventional retail outlet, Bill will receive a significantly increased share of the cover price because it effectively cuts out the chain of distribution, retail and the high discounts they demand (Amazon traditionally want 60 per cent of cover price as its cut, for example). “

The big story during the dotcom boom was about the frictionless marketplace, but that was actually a red herring: the goal was reduce friction caused by others, to be the sole remaining friction, ie, to cut as many others out of the chain as possible.

This makes me wonder how many books, etc. we may not know about because of Amazon’s reach and power: the small seller may be unwilling to send 60% of the take to Amazon rather than the artist and there may never be enough volume to make it worthwhile. As noted earlier, efficiency isn’t the most important thing all the time.

Flatland, by Edwin A. Abbott

Flatland: Section 18 How I came to Spaceland, and what I saw there

An unspeakable horror seized me. There was a darkness; then a dizzy,
sickening sensation of sight that was not like seeing; I saw a Line
that was no Line; Space that was not Space: I was myself, and not myself.
When I could find voice, I shrieked loud in agony, “Either this is madness
or it is Hell.” “It is neither,” calmly replied the voice of the Sphere,
“it is Knowledge; it is Three Dimensions: open your eye once again
and try to look steadily.”

I looked, and, behold, a new world! There stood before me,
visibly incorporate, all that I had before inferred, conjectured,
dreamed, of perfect Circular beauty. What seemed the centre
of the Stranger’s form lay open to my view: yet I could see no heart,
lungs, nor arteries, only a beautiful harmonious Something–
for which I had no words; but you, my Readers in Spaceland,
would call it the surface of the Sphere.

Prostrating myself mentally before my Guide, I cried, “How is it,
O divine ideal of consummate loveliness and wisdom that I see thy
inside, and yet cannot discern thy heart, thy lungs, thy arteries,
thy liver?” “What you think you see, you see not,” he replied;
“it is not giving to you, nor to any other Being, to behold
my internal parts. I am of a different order of Beings
from those in Flatland. Were I a Circle, you could
discern my intestines, but I am a Being, composed
as I told you before, of many Circles, the Many in the One,
called in this country a Sphere. And, just as the outside
of a Cube is a Square, so the outside of a Sphere represents
the appearance of a Circle.”

Bewildered though I was by my Teacher’s enigmatic utterance,
I no longer chafed against it, but worshipped him in silent adoration.
He continued, with more mildness in his voice. “Distress not yourself
if you cannot at first understand the deeper mysteries of Spaceland.
By degrees they will dawn upon you. Let us begin by casting back
a glance at the region whence you came. Return with me a while to
the plains of Flatland and I will shew you that which you have often
reasoned and thought about, but never seen with the sense of sight–
a visible angle.” “Impossible!” I cried; but, the Sphere leading the way,
I followed as if in a dream, till once more his voice arrested me:
“Look yonder, and behold your own Pentagonal house, and all its inmates.”

I looked below, and saw with my physical eye all that domestic
individuality which I had hitherto merely inferred with
the understanding. And how poor and shadowy was the inferred conjecture
in comparison with the reality which I now behold! My four Sons
calmly asleep in the North-Western rooms, my two orphan Grandsons
to the South; the Servants, the Butler, my Daughter, all in their
several apartments. Only my affectionate Wife, alarmed by my continued
absence, had quitted her room and was roving up and down in the Hall,
anxiously awaiting my return. Also the Page, aroused by my cries,
had left his room, and under pretext of ascertaining whether I had
fallen somewhere in a faint, was prying into the cabinet in my study.
All this I could now SEE, not merely infer; and as we came nearer
and nearer, I could discern even the contents of my cabinet, and the
two chests of gold, and the tablets of which the Sphere had made mention.

Touched by my Wife’s distress, I would have sprung downward
to reassure her, but I found myself incapable of motion.
“Trouble not yourself about your Wife,” said my Guide:
“she will not be long left in anxiety; meantime,
let us take a survey of Flatland.”

Once more I felt myself rising through space. It was even as
the Sphere had said. The further we receded from the object we beheld,
the larger became the field of vision. My native city, with
the interior of every house and every creature therein, lay open
to my view in miniature. We mounted higher, and lo, the secrets
of the earth, the depths of the mines and inmost caverns of the hills,
were bared before me.

Awestruck at the sight of the mysteries of the earth, thus unveiled
before my unworthy eye, I said to my Companion, “Behold, I am become
as a God. For the wise men in our country say that to see all things,
or as they express it, OMNIVIDENCE, is the attribute of God alone.”
There was something of scorn in the voice of my Teacher as he made answer:
“it is so indeed? Then the very pick-pockets and cut-throats
of my country are to be worshipped by your wise men as being Gods:
for there is not one of them that does not see as much as you see now.
But trust me, your wise men are wrong.”

I. Then is omnividence the attribute of others besides Gods?

Sphere. I do not know. But, if a pick-pocket or a cut-throat
of our country can see everything that is in your country, surely
that is no reason why the pick-pocket or cut-throat should be accepted
by you as a God. This omnividence, as you call it–it is not a common word
in Spaceland–does it make you more just, more merciful, less selfish,
more loving? Not in the least. Then how does it make you more divine?

I. “More merciful, more loving!” But these are the qualities of women!
And we know that a Circle is a higher Being than a Straight Line,
in so far as knowledge and wisdom are more to be esteemed than mere affection.

Sphere. It is not for me to classify human faculties according to merit.
Yet many of the best and wisest in Spaceland think more of the affections
than of the understand, more of your despised Straight Lines than of your
belauded Circles. But enough of this. Look yonder. Do you know
that building?

I looked, and afar off I saw an immense Polygonal structure,
in which I recognized the General Assembly Hall of the States
of Flatland, surrounded by dense lines of Pentagonal buildings
at right angles to each other, which I knew to be streets;
and I perceived that I was approaching the great Metropolis.

“Here we descend,” said my Guide. It was now morning, the first
hour of the first day of the two thousandth year of our era.
Acting, as was their wont, in strict accordance with precedent,
the highest Circles of the realm were meeting in solemn conclave,
as they had met on the first hour of the first day of the year 1000,
and also on the first hour of the first day of the year 0.

The minutes of the previous meetings were now read by one whom
I at once recognized as my brother, a perfectly Symmetrical Square,
and the Chief Clerk of the High Council. It was found recorded on
each occasion that: “Whereas the States had been troubled by divers
ill-intentioned persons pretending to have received revelations
from another World, and professing to produce demonstrations whereby
they had instigated to frenzy both themselves and others, it had been
for this cause unanimously resolved by the Grand Council that on the
first day of each millenary, special injunctions be sent to the Prefects
in the several districts of Flatland, to make strict search for such
misguided persons, and without formality of mathematical examination,
to destroy all such as were Isosceles of any degree, to scourge
and imprison any regular Triangle, to cause any Square or Pentagon
to be sent to the district Asylum, and to arrest any one of higher rank,
sending him straightway to the Capital to be examined and judged
by the Council.”

“You hear your fate,” said the Sphere to me, while the Council
was passing for the third time the formal resolution. “Death or
imprisonment awaits the Apostle of the Gospel of Three Dimensions.”
“Not so,” replied I, “the matter is now so clear to me, the nature of real
space so palpable, that methinks I could make a child understand it.
Permit me but to descend at this moment and enlighten them.”
“Not yet,” said my Guide, “the time will come for that.
Meantime I must perform my mission. Stay thou there in thy place.”
Saying these words, he leaped with great dexterity into the sea
(if I may so call it) of Flatland, right in the midst of the ring
of Counsellors. “I come,” said he, “to proclaim that there is a land
of Three Dimensions.”

I could see many of the younger Counsellors start back in manifest horror,
as the Sphere’s circular section widened before them. But on a sign from
the presiding Circle–who shewed not the slightest alarm or surprise–
six Isosceles of a low type from six different quarters rushed upon the Sphere.
“We have him,” they cried; “No; yes; we have him still! he’s going! he’s gone!”

“My Lords,” said the President to the Junior Circles of the Council,
“there is not the slightest need for surprise; the secret archives,
to which I alone have access, tell me that a similar occurrence
happened on the last two millennial commencements. You will,
of course, say nothing of these trifles outside the Cabinet.”

Raising his voice, he now summoned the guards. “Arrest the policemen;
gag them. You know your duty.” After he had consigned to their fate
the wretched policemen–ill-fated and unwilling witnesses
of a State-secret which they were not to be permitted to reveal–
he again addressed the Counsellors. “My Lords, the business of the
Council being concluded, I have only to wish you a happy New Year.”
Before departing, he expressed, at some length, to the Clerk,
my excellent but most unfortunate brother, his sincere regret that,
in accordance with precedent and for the sake of secrecy, he must condemn
him to perpetual imprisonment, but added his satisfaction that,
unless some mention were made by him of that day’s incident,
his life would be spared.