- Binder Entropy: On the Loss of Order in Three-Ring Notebooks
- 10 Mar 2011 04:26:53 pm
- Last edited by Deep Toaster on 10 Mar 2011 07:03:05 pm; edited 1 time in total
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The [url=http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Entropy_(order_and_disorder)]Law of Entropy[/url] is one of those rare things both biologists and physicists can agree on. It's a widely accepted law of nature that the Universe as we know it is giving way to entropy. In other words (those of the prophet Douglas Adams), there is something "fundamentally wrong with the universe," and it's only getting worse.
Take my backpack as an example. Open it up, and the first thing you see is a yellowing conglomerate of papers from semesters past, a disarrayed tribute to all that it means to be a student. Push it to one side, and you notice that it's encased in what was once a white three-ring binder. This binder is in just as bad a condition as some of the most ancient of the papers it holds—the edges are worn, the seams are split, the rings are wrenched. You wonder how its owner ever got anythlng done, and that's what I wonder too.
Then you look further and notice that it's not the only binder in my backpack. Hidden below the outgrowths of notes and homework is another binder, also simple and white. But this one's different. All its sheets are neat and tidy, with not a single sheet sticking out in the wrong place. The binder itself is in perfect condition, as if it were bought yesterday. You pull out this mystery of a organizer to take a closer look, and what you see surprises you (or doesn't, if you know me well enough).
It's a calculator binder.
The first sheet of paper inside is a rough image of a calculator, with each key labeled with a number. This is followed by massive, 250-page tutorial on some obscure topic you don't understand or care for (how many trees did that kill?). The other three-hundred-odd pages are also tutorials and references of all sorts—spotlessly organized into categories, even with tables of contents in appropriate places.
What's going on here? Obviously, the guy who owns this backpack loves calculators. He loves them so much that he'd let his ordinary school binder fall into total disarray while keeping his precious calculator binder as clean as a chinny-chin-chin. And that brings me to my own law of entropy, one I based on my own personal experiences: that the rate of entropy, ∆S, is proportional to apathy.
You may notice something strange near the right side of the graph—why would ∆S suddenly change direction and even go negative? Why would that ever happen?
This is a phenomenon somewhat similar to the concept of a "Ballmer peak" in software production productivity. At an apathy level of a 434.233 arbitrary units and above, there is a sudden drop in entropy; to explain it, let's go back to my backpack, to the third binder inside. This one's a small one, with only one-inch rings. I use it solely for Health class because my teacher forces me to keep it separate, for good reason.
Now, think about this: Health is the one class I truly don't give a crap about. It's ridiculously easy to get an A in the class if you sit around and pretend to do homework of any sort. Following from the trend described above, you'd expect this particular binder to be hopelessly disorganized. A whirlwind of papers in the form of dog-eaten (-digested and -excreted) wood pulp comes to mind.
But no; this binder is actually more organized than that massive calculator binder you saw earlier! How can that be? Well, think about it: You're stuck in class, with nothing in front of you except for a Health binder. You can't access your iPod, your phone, not even your calculator. What do you do? Many students faced with absolute boredom actually start doing productive things, such as organizing. This explains why so many seemingly hard-working students fail at their classes. No, they're not really working that hard; they're just bored to death. And so it is for me. This is what I call the "Blake peak," named after a student from whom I've apparently stolen the binder I now use for Health.
The [url=http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Entropy_(order_and_disorder)]Law of Entropy[/url] is one of those rare things both biologists and physicists can agree on. It's a widely accepted law of nature that the Universe as we know it is giving way to entropy. In other words (those of the prophet Douglas Adams), there is something "fundamentally wrong with the universe," and it's only getting worse.
Take my backpack as an example. Open it up, and the first thing you see is a yellowing conglomerate of papers from semesters past, a disarrayed tribute to all that it means to be a student. Push it to one side, and you notice that it's encased in what was once a white three-ring binder. This binder is in just as bad a condition as some of the most ancient of the papers it holds—the edges are worn, the seams are split, the rings are wrenched. You wonder how its owner ever got anythlng done, and that's what I wonder too.
Then you look further and notice that it's not the only binder in my backpack. Hidden below the outgrowths of notes and homework is another binder, also simple and white. But this one's different. All its sheets are neat and tidy, with not a single sheet sticking out in the wrong place. The binder itself is in perfect condition, as if it were bought yesterday. You pull out this mystery of a organizer to take a closer look, and what you see surprises you (or doesn't, if you know me well enough).
It's a calculator binder.
The first sheet of paper inside is a rough image of a calculator, with each key labeled with a number. This is followed by massive, 250-page tutorial on some obscure topic you don't understand or care for (how many trees did that kill?). The other three-hundred-odd pages are also tutorials and references of all sorts—spotlessly organized into categories, even with tables of contents in appropriate places.
What's going on here? Obviously, the guy who owns this backpack loves calculators. He loves them so much that he'd let his ordinary school binder fall into total disarray while keeping his precious calculator binder as clean as a chinny-chin-chin. And that brings me to my own law of entropy, one I based on my own personal experiences: that the rate of entropy, ∆S, is proportional to apathy.
You may notice something strange near the right side of the graph—why would ∆S suddenly change direction and even go negative? Why would that ever happen?
This is a phenomenon somewhat similar to the concept of a "Ballmer peak" in software production productivity. At an apathy level of a 434.233 arbitrary units and above, there is a sudden drop in entropy; to explain it, let's go back to my backpack, to the third binder inside. This one's a small one, with only one-inch rings. I use it solely for Health class because my teacher forces me to keep it separate, for good reason.
Now, think about this: Health is the one class I truly don't give a crap about. It's ridiculously easy to get an A in the class if you sit around and pretend to do homework of any sort. Following from the trend described above, you'd expect this particular binder to be hopelessly disorganized. A whirlwind of papers in the form of dog-eaten (-digested and -excreted) wood pulp comes to mind.
But no; this binder is actually more organized than that massive calculator binder you saw earlier! How can that be? Well, think about it: You're stuck in class, with nothing in front of you except for a Health binder. You can't access your iPod, your phone, not even your calculator. What do you do? Many students faced with absolute boredom actually start doing productive things, such as organizing. This explains why so many seemingly hard-working students fail at their classes. No, they're not really working that hard; they're just bored to death. And so it is for me. This is what I call the "Blake peak," named after a student from whom I've apparently stolen the binder I now use for Health.
