I attempted to watch the 2021 (CE) ‘Dune’ last night and had high expectations. I was disappointed and gave up after an hour or so. However, I should point out I was of necessity watching it in HD rather than 4K on an 80 cm telly without surround sound, about which I was already trepid due to the fact that it seems to be very much a cinematic experience. The best, or possibly only, way to watch it is probably in an IMAX cinema.
I’ve been putting it off for a while. When it was first released, the Covid issue and other reasons why I’m tied to this house prevented me from going to see it as it was “intended”, but I heard good reports about it. Later on, the rental price was ridiculously high, at something like £15.99, which was also off-putting. I can understand the need to recoup costs in difficult circumstances, so I’m not just going to put that down, as many others have, to greed on the part of the studio. I do wonder if the strategy worked, since it’s now been reduced.
But then I ask myself, if a film relies on spectacle for its impact, is it actually worthwhile anyway? Sometimes I think it is. For instance, there’s an ’80s film I can’t track down about a woman going blind which is visually very lavish because it emphasises what she’s losing. I also understand that another SF film, ‘2001 – A Space Odyssey’, hugely benefits from being seen in its original form in Cinerama. Incidentally, a number of films made in the late ’60s and early ’70s have a “trippy” scene like the one in ‘2001’, such as ‘Charly’ and ‘Willy Wonka And The Chocolate Factory’, with the tunnel scene, which very much chime with the Zeitgeist and exploit the medium of cinema well. I’m not sure how the parents of the children watching ‘Willy Wonka’ would’ve felt about the likelihood that that scene may have packed the auditorium out with a load of long-haired smelly hippies, as they would’ve seen them, but there it is.
I actually feel quite strongly that science fiction cinema should be low-budget and have low production values. ‘Primer’ and ‘The Cube’ both have tiny budgets. ‘The Cube’ mainly involves a single set lit in different ways to make it look like different rooms and cost only $350 000. ‘Primer’ was much lower, at $7000. Even ‘Dark Star’ only cost $60 000, although that was mid-’70s so in 2021 dollars that would be 350,000 (I’m having trouble with the blog editor messing up number formatting here). SF is a number of things, but for me two aspects of it are crucial. One is that it’s a genre where ideas replace protagonists, or perhaps are the protagonists, as with the Big Dumb Object approach seen in ‘Rendezvous With Rama’ and ‘Ringworld’, but often in more abstract ways as in ‘The Ones Who Walk Away From Omelas’. The other is that it has to be fiction whose plot depends non-trivially on the setting. I came up with this criterion specifically to exclude ‘Star Wars’, which I hate and despise, from the genre. The ‘Star Wars’ franchise has many issues, but a significant one is that it attempts to tell sword and sorcery fantasy tales in a space opera setting to demonstrate that certain aspects of the human condition are eternal and universal, and this means that the setting only exists to demonstrate that things are still the same, even though the characters don’t even share ancestry with Homo sapiens. There is nothing wrong in principle with fiction whose plot is independent of the setting or even trivially dependent upon it, although I suspect that the execrable ‘Number One Ladies’ Detective Agency’ is this so there is a risk of poor quality because of that, but it does place it outside the genre.
‘Dune’ was significantly heavily plundered by George Lucas for ‘Star Wars’ although the latter has many other elements which are not linked, such as Buck Rogers and Flash Gordon, and probably Tolkien too. This is unfortunate for a 2021 film though, because it may give the viewer the impression that it’s derivative rather than ‘Star Wars’. It’s very like the tendency for children’s CGI films to be pre-empted by inferior copies being released earlier because they take less time to render than the better quality Pixar films, which happened a lot in the ‘noughties. Without the awareness that Frank Herbert invented a lot of the tropes which ended up in George Lucas’s films, ‘Dune’ looks like a rip-off of that franchise, when it very much is not.
The problem with big budgets in films is that they are often used to make them visually impressive while detracting from the quality of the script and plot. It would be unfair to accuse ‘Dune’ the film of having too many fight scenes because the book also has those, but I remember thinking that the film of ‘Prince Caspian’ was completely ruined by having a ridiculously long battle scene in it, presumably because it needed to compete with ‘Lord Of The Rings’. Herbert did take pains to force his future universe to behave as if it was like our world of a few centuries ago, by outlawing AI and contriving to make melée weapons necessary, so the presence of long, tedious fight scenes and a fair bit of associated machismo is at least in keeping with the tone of the book. This is also balanced by the rôle of soft power and women in the story, although to describe the manipulations of the Bene Gesserit as “soft power” isn’t really accurate. At the same time, there isn’t necessarily anything wrong with a film mainly being a spectacle, and it might even make sense to go further in that direction to keep cinemas alive.
One way in which ‘Dune’ bucks the trend, inherited from the novel itself, is its positive portrayal of Middle Eastern culture and the associations with Islam. Being written in 1965, Herbert’s story long pre-dates the resurgence of Islamophobia in the ‘noughties. That said, it does very much portray religion as primarily an instrument of social control, although there is also the apparent existence of psi abilities. In the film, the latter is clearly present. The author appears to treat Arab culture and Islam respectfully throughout the first novel (I say that because I haven’t read any further). It’s refreshing to see that done in a 2021 Hollywood blockbuster.
I’ve got this far without mentioning the David Lynch version! One of the many problems with that appalling version was that it had an all-White cast when none of the protagonists in the novel were White. This is addressed to some extent in the casting of Villeneuve’s version, although it would be difficult to portray the thorough mixing of ethnicities the novelist assumes to have happened in the many intervening millennia. Evolution has also altered Fremen physiology, so there are biological differences, some of which are genetically engineered, and there are also millennia-long breeding programmes which are supposed to reach their climax in the birth of Jessica’s daughter, but the problem is that she chose to have a son first.
One positive from the previous film is that it at least attempts to portray the space-folding technique used to travel between the stars, although in a very weird and off-putting way. This is completely absent from the new version, which is significant because Spice is economically central to the Imperium as a means of enabling interstellar travel. It would’ve helped to have shown that in order to emphasise the in-universe realities of its central position.
Herbert advocates a right-wing position in his novel, that the basic state of human society is feudal. He was also writing against Asimov’s ‘Foundation’ series, where sociological predictability is central and the emergence of a mutant who can influence society through their new abilities disrupts the plan for preserving civilisation. This was a quasi-socialist position, although Asimov was merely a liberal. Herbert’s reply to Asimov is to portray a society where an individual mutant, or at least a carefully bred sport whose existence depends on an individual decision to go against the plan, makes a huge positive difference to a society. The way Hollywood works is to have heroines and heroes struggle against enormous difficulties and achieve resolution through strength of character, although there is sometimes emphasis on teamwork and family values too. ‘Dune’ lends itself fairly well to this approach. The approach, however, seems to be carefully engineered to bring a situation which reproduces the social conditions of the European Middle Ages. The emphasis on families wielding power can be seen as arising from powerful companies, as it sometimes does today, but on the whole large capitalist enterprises are more democratic than that because of shares and floatation on the stock market. I don’t think it’s really explained how humanity ended up back in the position of having powerful houses, religious organisations and guilds controlling everything when it had become thoroughly capitalist by the twentieth Christian century.
All this, though, may be the reason I didn’t enjoy the film. It’s a bit like ‘The Restaurant At The End Of The Universe’ in a way. You get to the very end of the span of time during which intelligent life exists, and the economic system is still as it ever was, there has never been a utopia and so forth. Likewise, ‘Dune’ is estimated to be set something like 30 000 years in the future, which is a lot closer to the present day, but the basic social order is not criticised so much as taken as a given. I think I would prefer a world to be presented either as a utopia or dystopia. That said, it may be more realistic to recognise the future as neither, and again this chimes with what political conservatives would see as realism. Moreover, this was in the original novel. If it comes across in the film too, that would seem to be a successful adaptation rather than either a failing or a negative aspect of the work.
When it comes down to it, what I think has happened is that I haven’t really seen ‘Dune’ and may not in fact ever do so. In order to see this film, you have to go to the cinema, and possibly to an IMAX to watch it. I didn’t do this, so maybe I haven’t got any valid grounds for criticism. Nonetheless I did rapidly lose interest. My fault probably.
This post will not be entirely about ‘The Hitch-Hiker’s’ Guide To The Galaxy’. And incidentally, the rest of the ingredients list includes a teaspoon of cinnamon, presumably powder, in case you were wondering, and the next bit reads as follows (and has started to transition to live-action):
(apparently it couldn’t deduce the spelling of “yields”).
Just to put this in context, this is naturally from H2G2 and regards the operation of the second greatest computer in all of space and time, Deep Thought, who started from first principles with ‘I Think, Therefore I Am’ and managed to deduce the existence of rice pudding and income tax before anyone managed to turn it off. It does this without any RAM incidentally. Is it just me, or is anyone else reminded of the bomb in ‘Dark Star’?
This is the second time, to my knowledge, Douglas Adams chooses to parody Descartes in the series. The first time is with the Babel Fish proving God exists and therefore doesn’t exist. This one involves Descartes method of doubting as much as possible until all he’s left with is the Cogito, id est, “I think, therefore I am”, and then using the Cosmological and Ontological Arguments for the existence of God to fill in everything he’s just rejected as open to doubt. He could’ve gone further, but didn’t. Isaac Asimov did something similar in ‘Reason’, where a robot on an orbital solar power station deduces that there is no Universe outside the station and that humans are brought into existence in the airlock when they arrive and are killed when they re-enter the airlock to leave. Incidentally there are problems with his presentation of the Three Laws in this story because it was written before he’d fully formulated them.
In terms of the two deductions above, Adams has a version of the Universe which strongly resembles the English-speaking world of the late 1970s, perhaps even the Home Counties, and Deep Thought is therefore able to deduce the existence of rice pudding relatively easily. In fact I think income tax is a more probable deduction than rice pudding, although that still involves the existence of what may be a uniquely human institution, namely money. As a side note, the idea that cinnamon exists is reminiscent of ‘The Dune Encyclopedia’, where the spice Melange, secreted by the sandworms of Arrakis and enabling humans who take it to fold space and travel between the stars without moving, an ability known here as קְפִיצַת הַדֶּרֶךְ or Qephitzat Ha-Derech, turns out to be similar in composition to cinnamic acid, as seen at the top of this diagram:
Molecular structure of the spice Melange. Note the copper atoms in the porphyrin ring, conferring its distinctive blue hue
Hence at least in the Dune universe, a cinnamon-like substance does exist off Earth.
As mentioned a few posts back, Fred Hoyle used the Anthropic Principle to conjecture that the bonding energy of the carbon-12 nucleus was of a certain value. Starting from the first principle that organic, carbon-based life exists, he predicted the triple-alpha process. In the early Universe, almost all atomic matter was either simple hydrogen (protium – just a proton and an electron) or helium-4, with two protons and two neutrons. If two helium-4 atoms combine, they form a beryllium-8 atom, and if that then collides with a further helium-4 atom, carbon-12 is formed. In most circumstances, the probability of this happening is very low but it so happens that the energy of three helium-4 atoms colliding is unusually close to the energy of a carbon-12 atom, meaning that they are more likely to stay together than they would be otherwise. This is an example of the so-called “fine tuning” which appears to show that either a Creator exists or that we are living in one of an innumerable number of parallel universes where the conditions happen to be exactly right. By a happy “accident”, conditions in this universe happen to favour the existence of carbon, upon which life can be built.
This is an unusual path of reasoning that turned out to lead to a successful prediction and is therefore similar to the deduction that rice pudding exists in H2G2. It goes roughly like this:
I think, therefore I am
Physical conditions in the Universe must allow thought to occur
For thought to occur, organic life must have existed at some stage
For organic life to exist, carbon must be an abundant element
For carbon to exist, the triple alpha process must be favoured
There’s a humungous number of steps missing from that argument of course, but it’s a fair sketch of how you get from the Cogito to the strength of the strong nuclear force and the existence of organic life. Note that Deep Thought was not an organic life form, but in order for computers to be invented, organic life forms are assumed to be necessary at some stage.
I was once very impressed indeed by an a priori idea that seems to prove that the atmosphere of any roughly spherical planet must have at least two locations where there is no wind. This sounds very much like the kind of thing which could only be demonstrated by observation. One can imagine looking at endless detailed global weather charts and finding at least two spots on each of them which are completely calm, and then making the inductive inference that it was very likely always to be the case. However, this isn’t necessary and in fact the proof can be demonstrated by means of imagining you’re trying to comb a tribble:
exhibit in the New Mexico Museum of Space History 21 August 2017, 14:59:27 Own work Stilfehler
Each of the hairs on a tribble can be thought of as arrows indicating wind direction. No matter which way that hair is combed, there will always be at least two points on the animal’s surface from which all the hairs radiate. Of course it makes more sense to give a tribble a parting or whatever, but the fact remains that there have to be two such locations, and that’s a topological truth. Extend this to a globe showing wind direction on any approximately spherical planet or moon, and the fact remains true, except of course that the atmosphere has depth. This, however, simply means that each individual layer must also have two still spots. It doesn’t work if the world has mountains on it high enough to leave the atmosphere because then the supposed stationary spots could be lined up to be where the air would be if the mountains weren’t there, and this means that a toroidal world is exempt from this fact. It also means it doesn’t apply to ocean currents unless there’s no land on the world. Therefore it already becomes possible to conclude from the premise that there are round planets completely enveloped in atmospheres that this is so without actually going there and checking them out.
Yesterday’s post on landlocked countries led me to similar conclusions, although they’re probabilistic and rely heavily on the idea that there are other planets with territorial intelligent life forms using a money-based economy on them. In fact that’s not entirely true. There are two sets of implied facts about such worlds, one relying on the existence of beings like us in those respects, the other not. We have already divided Mars, Venus and other worlds geographically into smaller areas, which are however not that relevant to this issue because there are no open bodies of liquid on those planets, but if, for example, Venus looked like this, and the land masses were divided up geographically, they would have certain predictable features.
I made the following claims yesterday about landlocked territories. They are likely to:
Be arid
Have extremes of temperature
Include high mountains, perhaps near or on their borders
Be located on the largest continent
Contain the point furthest from the land on that continent
The last point is not in fact true of Kazakhstan, Bolivia or Paraguay, but it is true of the Central African Republic. Except for the third, these are all consequence of the physical features of lines on a map separating bits of land, although not below a certain number. For instance, Hispaniola simply has a line drawn down the middle of it separating Haïti and the Dominican Republic and I have no knowledge concerning where the highest point on that island is, although it’s obviously more likely to be in the larger country. And to test that hypothesis without foreknowledge, the Dominican Republic is larger than Hispaniola and therefore more likely to contain the island’s highest point. And indeed the highest point on Hispaniola, and in fact in the whole of the Caribbean, is Pico Duarte. The reason for assuming that landlocked states are likely to have high mountains near their borders is that borders are often placed in inaccessible regions where there isn’t likely to be much argument over resources.
Then there are the conclusions which can be drawn about landlocked countries which do rely on the current economic system and the way humans tend to behave under it. Landlocked countries are also more likely to be:
Neutral
Poor
Reliant on natural resources more than manufacturing
Totalitarian
Have intolerant attitudes among their population
I explained the reasoning behind these attributes yesterday. They don’t apply across the board. For instance, Switzerland is mountainous and neutral but also rich and relies on financial services fairly heavily, although of course it makes Swiss Army knives and clocks, and presumably a lot of other stuff which my ignorance and cartoonish image of the country has failed to reveal.
It’s also possible to invert and go to opposite extremes with the first list at least. For instance, the largest continent is likely to contain the highest mountain, and in fact it does in terms of height above sea level, and likewise the largest ocean is more likely to include the deepest point, which again is so. Maritime and island countries are likely to have wet weather, have relatively little variation in temperature, particularly if surrounded by a lot of ocean as with Polynesian nations, and be fairly flat. Inverting the list of human characteristics doesn’t work as well, at least with island nations, and here I have Britain in mind in particular. They are likely not to be neutral (true), rich (true), not reliant on natural resources (not true – North Sea oil and gas come to mind, also historically coal and tin), be liberal democracies (this is only marginally true in our case) and have tolerant attitudes. It seems to some extent that in fact the same things are true of Britain at least as much as they apply to landlocked countries. It is the case that we have a moderate climate which is also quite wet, and that we have no high mountains.
The economies of island nations tend to be smaller, isolated from the global economy, dependent on shipping and therefore having relatively high prices for imported goods, but this really applies more to oceanic islands such as those of Polynesia rather than those situated on continental shelves. This island I live on is hardly one of the former. Nor is its western companion. As mentioned yesterday, landlocked states are somewhat protected by violent, ocean-related events such as tsunami and hurricanes,and conversely islands aren’t. Their infrastructure is therefore vulnerable. Again, this is one of the realities of a small, exposed piece of land in the middle of an ocean, though only on a planet with a particular set of meteorological conditions. Vast expanses of ocean are generally amenable to the development of tsunami and hurricanes on this planet, and a glance at Jupiter indicates that the latter are common elsewhere, but there might be globally frozen oceans with volcanic peaks sticking out of them for example, or widespread shallow seas.
The Hairy Ball Theorem mentioned above doesn’t apply to tori. This has an interesting consequence for oceans which could be considered toroidal in the sense that they include a range of latitudes where there are only small islands impeding their flow around the planet, because it means there can and probably will be both a steady current running all the way round and also winds able to build up speed without encountering obstacles. There’s a contemporary and a prehistoric example of this. The Southern Ocean exists today in this form, and the Tethys, which was tropical and subtropical, was in place for around 200 million years and still has traces today, although it’s no longer a continuous ocean.
I’ve previously stated that landlocked countries are likely to include high mountains, but this is somewhat misleading as it ignores continental drift. In fact, both Americas have mountain ranges on the Pacific coast caused by the continents moving in that direction and encountering the Pacific Plate. On the other hand, when two continents collide, the result is a mountain range far from any ocean, as with the Himalayas. The trouble is that it looked like I was thinking of a continent as a kind of spread out mountain, which isn’t how it is.
There are forty-seven island nations. Although the largest is Indonesia, which is bigger than Mongolia, that’s distributed over a large number of islands of varying size and it’s also continental, being in Eurasia and Sahul (the technical name for Australia as a continent as opposed to a country). The “U”K is the seventh largest of these and Great Britain the ninth largest island of any kind. Again deploying the rice pudding principle, the area of island nations is likely to follow something like the 80:20 rule, in that eighty percent of the area of island nations will consist of twenty percent of the nations, or something close to that, and also eighty percent of the area of all islands will consist of twenty percent of the islands. It won’t be exactly that, but it should be close. For these forty-seven nations, that means that the nine largest ought to have four-fifths of the area. These are Indonesia, Madagascar, Japan, the Philippines, Papua, Aotearoa/New Zealand, Iceland, the “U”K and Cuba (Ireland is next on the list). It isn’t practical to do the same for physical islands because there are an indeterminate number. These islands taken together have an area of 4 460 372 square kilometres, which suggests that the remainder will have a total area close to 900 000 km2. In fact their area adds up to 4 851 659 km2 if I’ve calculated that correctly, which is fairly close. The same principle might be applicable to population and population density. Indonesia is again the most populous of these nations, the “U”K being fourth, and the most densely populated is Singapore, which is of course a city-state. The most sparsely peopled such nation is Iceland, although Kalaallit Nunaat/Greenland is even less densely populated but doesn’t quite count as an independent state.
Island nations are of course very subject to climate change, such as the increased acidity of the oceans causing erosion of coral atolls and reefs, rises in sea level and increased occurrence of hurricanes. Some of them are at risk of disappearing entirely, but others, maybe surprisingly, are increasing in size because of it. They tend to be more politically stable than continental states but are more susceptible to invasion by them. This seems not to be true of Britain although some of our reputation for not having been invaded is due to an economic approach to the truth, since it’s also been said that England has been invaded more than six dozen times since 1066, for example the Glorious Revolution of 1688. These states are also often microstates, which means they can’t take advantage of economies of scale.
There would seem to be four different types of island states, depending on whether they’re based on archipelagos with a number of islands of similar size or consist of one larger island or a single island, and whether they’re continental or oceanic. Ireland and Britain are obviously both predominantly single island states and continental, and being continental makes quite a big difference. One perhaps surprising thing about Pacific islands is their linguistic, and therefore presumably cultural, homogeneity. It might be expected that isolation leads to difference, but in fact it seems not to, even though unique ecosystems do evolve on them.
Then there are maritime states. Technically, France and the “U”K have the most borders, most of which are maritime in both cases, because of their dependencies overseas. This is followed by Russia due to its size. Countries with single land borders tend to be on islands, such as Ireland and us, although Canada is a major exception. The characteristics of maritime states don’t seem to be as thoroughly explored as those of island and landlocked states.
Moving away from the sea and land issue brings one to the four-colour theorem. This is remarkably irrelevant to cartography, but involves the proof in the ’70s that any flat surface map or globe could be coloured with at most four colours. This might be expected to have big consequences for politics but oddly, it hasn’t. It is relevant to the number of frequencies needed to operate mobile ‘phone masts though. It doesn’t work for maps with non-contiguous territories such as Alaska and the Lower 48, or presumably the traditional counties of Wales and England, which have many enclaves and exclaves.
Ultimately, all of these kinds of considerations seem to be to do with applying mathematics to a few well-established facts, so in a way they’re all just bits of science. Two questions therefore arise. One is whether everything can be deduced from facts and principles about which it’s possible to be certain. Another is whether there’s an important distinction between the human-related aspects of these facts and the physical ones. Do we have enough control over ourselves, and do governments have sufficient flexibility, for these facts not to be inevitable? Is there something about human behaviour that just will not alter which leads, for example, to landlocked states being more likely to be totalitarian? Is there disruptive technology or other ideas which can change that?
I’ve used geography here to present this issue, but there are other areas where it applies, so to close I want to return to the issue of rice pudding and income tax. Deep Thought was able to deduce the existence of income tax from first principles. This means that money is inevitable. This is actually part of quite an oppressive ether pervading the H2G2 universe, because we know, for instance, that it’s possible (or rather impossible) to deposit a penny in one’s own era and find that at the end of time the cost of one’s meal at Milliways will have been paid for. This means that usury will always exist, and this makes capitalism as we know it a law of nature. There’s no escaping the flawedness of all lifekind for Douglas Adams. This might be connected to the certainty of death and taxes, but the taxes in question there were not income tax, which didn’t exist at the time. In a way, though, this could be seen as hopeful from a left wing perspective to some extent, because it means money will inevitably be pooled for the common good. The contrary view, of course, is that it’s theft. However, the idea that income tax can be deduced to exist from the Cogito does seem to be more feasible than the idea that rice pudding can, because income tax seems to be about numbers and science, but then so is rice pudding.
In order to exist, rice pudding needs milk and cereal. More specifically, it needs rice. According to the recipe Deep Thought came up with, it also needs demarara sugar and cinnamon. Of all these ingredients, the most likely one to be widespread in a Universe with organic life in it is sugar, although it may be glucose rather than sucrose. Milk is strictly speaking the nutrient secretion of a particular clade of Earth animals, but we are fully aware that EU nomenclature notwithstanding, “milk” needn’t mean milk, and in fact has a long tradition of use in other ways, as with almond milk and latex-containing plant sap. There’s coconut milk and a number of “cow trees”. Galactodendron of Central and South America yields a latex which is high in protein and can be used to make cheese and ice cream. We’re actually fine as far as milk is concerned, as an opaque white nutritious fluid is very common and found from all sorts of sources. It does, however, seem to depend either on the existence of seed-bearing plants or animals who secrete it.
Rice is a bit dicier. Although it happens to be a grass, there are grain-like seeds and fruits from other sources. This is important because although large areas of grassland are common today, in the fairly recent geological past grasses were just another species of plant with no particular dominance which coexisted in more diverse ecosystems, although even then they could presumably be cultivated, and there are non-gramineous cereal-like things like buckwheat and quinoa. Rice, however, is fairly distinctive. Porridge is not the same thing as rice pudding, and on the whole rice pudding is considered sweet.
Hence the dependencies of rice pudding seem to be the existence of seed plants. Although milk can be from an animal source, the animals humans actually exploit for it are grass-eaters, so it kind of depends on the existence of grass in two separate ways. Even three, if the sugar is from sugar cane. It is conceivable that rice pudding might be like gin & tonic, in the sense that according to the epic adventure in time and space it’s just called something like that everywhere but doesn’t refer to the same drink. However, this can’t be quite true because we see a list of ingredients, as specific as “pudding rice”. There’s also the issue of rice pudding being deduced if it only exists on Earth, because although Deep Thought knows that a greater computer will be built one day, it presumably doesn’t know the details or it would be able to predict that its own task would be unsuccessful. Therefore it seems likely that rice pudding does exist elsewhere in the Hitch-Hiker universe. It is also the case that variants of rice pudding exist all over the land surface of this planet, but it’s less clear to me whether it’s been invented independently on more than one occasion.
I’ll close, then, with this. Income tax seems to be a more likely candidate for deduction than rice pudding, but is it? Is it just that the use of maths-like concepts applies more easily to the idea of tax than it does to rice pudding? Is there a stereotypical gender-rôle bias here? What’s it about?
A Box Of Chocolates 