The mystical properties of this date have been well examined by a mathematics methods professor of my acquaintance; instead of rehashing what I learned today, I'll simply quote him:
Hello all,
As you will no doubt have noticed, today's date on the Christian calendar is a palindrome (It reads the same backwards as forwards, like "Rats live on no evil star"). Not only that, it is a palindromic DATE in a palindromic YEAR. I hope somewhere someone is naming their babies Ava and Otto to acknowledge this fact.
Now you may be a bit blasé about this, as we had a palindromic date just last year (10-02-2001) and there's another one next year, and we had a palindromic year in 1991. But it is really very special. It isn't going to happen again for a long time (there's a remote chance some of the babies born recently might be around for it).
And it has NEVER HAPPENED BEFORE!
Before you all write me emails pointing out that I'm wrong, and mention 11-11-1111 as an obvious example, let me explain.
First let me compliment you on your arithmetic, but criticize your history. In 1111 Christians weren't using Arabic numerals yet, so 1111 would have been written in roman numerals: MCXI, which isn't a palindrome. And the Arabs certainly weren't using the Christian calendar. I suppose you could argue that XI-X-XIX qualifies, but I don't believe the Christian calendar was even in use then.
And there's also the issue of when using numbers to stand for the month began. Any historians out there want to help out? I bet it's within the past two hundred years or so.
Meanwhile, pity the poor Americans, who write the number for the month before the number for the day. Perhaps they could count 12-21-1221 as qualifying (but Fibonnacci had only written his Liber Abaci advocating the use of Arabic numbers in 1202, so it isn't likely that their use was widespread by 1221, especially not in the US which hadn't been visited by Europeans at all yet).
Problem for homework:
When will the first palindromic date written US style in a palindromic year occur?
I hope I've succeeded in bringing some interesting intellectual activity to the torpor of study week,
David
Answers to come.
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Today we took Ceilidh to the vet. It was kind of fun, actually; at 11 a.m. I got to leave my desk and trot off into the warm spring sun, bound for the no-kill hospital. I was early for once, so I pet the stray cats in the holding room and thought about how wonderful these cats made me feel in their desire for a scratch behind the ears. It's like hanging around little children: every once in a while you get to play Messiah, bringer of wonders.
This was the first time I've ever sat through an animal appointment. Like I said, it was a lot of fun - from the rectal thermometer to the vaccination booster, Ceilidh was amusingly stroppy. The vet, of course, was unflappable. Even when Ceilidh's panicked anal glands filled the examining room with choking stink, the vet cooed and sprayed deodorant on the smelly derriere.
I found myself wondering if she had envisioned this sort of scene when she decided that she wanted to be a vet.
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Time to go to sleep...I have grad pictures tomorrow, and I need that elusive beauty sleep.
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2 years ago today: that cat needs to check herself before she wrecks herself
