Vi-R-Us

Security researchers at the Sillycon Valley Startup VirulentStrains, Inc. have discovered startling news.  Computer viruses have jumped the genetic gap to humans.  Analysts have long been concerned with several variants of the bird flu, which have jumped to humans in a few isolated cases.  Recently, however, a more serious problem has surfaced.

"With the increasing complexity of computer systems we suspected something like this would happen at some point," said lead artificial intelligence researcher John Hyong. "Computer engineers try to model their intricate AI around the human body's capabilities, especially that of the brain, the most amazing computer known to man.  Computers are now so similar to humans that it wasn't a large leap for the Vi-R-Us strain to adapt itself from computer DNA, as it were, to human."

The Vi-R-Us strain, originally discovered in 1998, has been responsible for DDoS attacks on major corporations for years, mutating as it grew in scope.  Now, it seems, it has mutated once again, able to attack not just human-like artificial intelligent computers but humans themselves.  Vi-R-Us is transmitted like any other flu: contact with infected door handles, public restrooms, and sneezing are especially deadly.


The National Association of the Prevention of Human-Borne Computer Viruses/Trojans/Infections (NAPHBCVTI), formed in an emergency meeting on Saturday by the President, is advising everyone to protect their electronics from the threat.  Laptop users are encouraged to buy keyboard covers.  iAnything users should buy gloves.  "The threat is two-fold," said a NAPHBCVTI representative. "We need to stop users from infecting computers and computers from infecting users."

Meanwhile, representatives of Toys 'R' Us have released a public statement distancing themselves from the "unfortunately-named" virus.

"We have absolutely no connection, corporate or otherwise, with the malignant 'Vi-R-Us' threat," stated a press release from the company on Monday.

While no cases have been reported to the NAPHBCVTI yet, the threat is real and hospitals are advised to begin using traditional stethoscopes instead of their Apple iSpy pilot program stethoscopes at this time.

Entropy and the Gospel

In chemistry we've been learning about a concept called entropy, designated by the letter S.  The statistical definition of entropy is dependent on how many microstates a substance can have.  Microstates are determined by how spread out particles in the substance are, how much energy they have (velocity), the number of rotational and vibrational movements they can have, etc.  Entropy, in other words, measures disorganization.  Entropy also helps to measure spontaneity. 

Here's the important part:  every reaction increases the entropy of the universe.

There's a tradeoff in every reaction necessary to accomplish work.  We like the fridge to be cold, but we can't except it to get that way on it's own.  Why?  Because systems seek to maximize entropy.  In this case, the maximum entropy level of the fridge and the surroundings exist when the fridge is the same temperature as the surroundings and thus all particles are as disorganized as they can be.  If we want to cool the fridge down, we have to put work/energy into it using the compressor and the chemical properties of the Freon-like material.  By putting work in, we can cause the entropy level of the fridge to decrease and, therefore, it can sustain a colder temperature than the surroundings.

Take note of the important fact that even in this process, the entropy of the universe is still increasing.  The fridge decreased, but where did the energy come from to do it?  The power company, which produces energy by one of several means.  Each way will increase entropy in the universe more than the fridge will decrease it. The overall S of the universe will increase.

Life is not spontaneous.  Life works against entropy.  Our bodies are builders, not "sparsifiers."  Thus life has a problem.  If everything has to increase the universe's entropy, what do we do?  The truth is, we work the same way as the fridge.  We offload our entropy problem.  It's like an entropy chain.  We use the energy from the food we eat to build proteins and to do work.  That food is built from plants, which take a ton of energy from the sun to build sugars.  If we follow the chain back, we realize that we can only survive if the sun increases in entropy more than we decrease in entropy.  Essentially, we offload our entropy problem to the sun.  The only way life can exist on earth is if we take our problems and let something else deal with all of them.  Of course, we do deal with some of it; we will die eventually and our particles will be dispersed.  We are all subject to the 2nd Law of Thermodynamics, but at the same time, we can use another Law (a less defined law) and transfer our problem to the sun.  It's a law because it works, and it always works.  It's what allows us to live.  Yet the first law, the law defining entropy, is not violated.  In fact, if we define life in terms of a system that auto-perpetuates a lower entropy state even with complete material turnover, the sun becomes the enabler of that.  The sun becomes not only the light, but the life of the world.

Now, as I'm sure you predicted, comes the ol' vowel switcheroo.  'u' becomes 'o' in the sun.  The only enabler of life on this planet is the Son.  The only way we can survive is if we offload our problems to Him.  Sometimes it goes through the chain - hometeachers, the bishop, etc - until it finally reaches Him, but it will eventually.  Through the Son the Law of Justice can still be fulfilled while letting us use the Law of Mercy (less defined - more abstract) to transfer the full effect of the Law of Justice to Him.  As our bodies have to do work to let the entropy changes slow and transfer the change away, so do our spirits have to do work to let our problems transfer to Christ.  It's called repentance, prayer, fasting, commandment-keeping, etc.

Now, scientifically, the sun of this world will ultimately fail.  Entropy will wear it down until it stops giving off the light and the energy the world needs.  That is where the comparison stops.  Unlike this temporal sun, the Son of Man (exalted Man) will not fail.  He has already completed the mission that allows us to apply the Law of Mercy.  It is an infinite and eternal sacrifice.  Jesus Christ, the true Son, will never wear down and we can partake of his infinite light, power, and goodness forever.  Life is not spontaneous.  We were created by God through his Son, Jesus Christ, and by Him and through Him we live.  He is the ultimate light and life of the world.

At a Break

Today is the lull before the storm.

Yesterday was a very cathartic day.  I went to Chemistry, as always (every day at 8am!), came home, and saw an email that told me I had won the Freshman Learning in the Light of Faith essay contest.  Guidelines can be found at the essay contest website.  Yes, there is a grand prize of $500.  Winning was totally unexpected!  41 essays were entered.  Here is the essay, written the day before the deadline:

Quandary

It is soot black. Rural Idaho has no streetlights; one would be hard pressed to say the two-rut weed patch meandering around the country is any sort of a road, let alone a street.  No moon shines.

If the outside is soot, inside the garage is soot burned a thousand times over, coated with pitch, ensconced in the blackness of a glistening stallion, and laying at the bottom of a five hundred foot pit.  Black as night.  Blacker than night.

Stumbling through the garage, my toe is stubbed by an unknown solid.  By feeling around with hands I can deduce the texture and shape of a wooden box.  Why is it there?  What purpose does it serve?  I can’t tell in this overwhelming darkness.  Everything seems jumbled up, patternless. 

Secular scientists the world over comfortably establish the metaphorical ground on which they stand and then reach out into the darkness carefully until touching something.  By feeling around the object they may deduce various physical properties about the object or even its identity.  However, there is no illumination.  It is meekness as a disciple-scholar that allows one to bring the lights up and see not only the box but also how it fits into the garage’s overall pattern.

First year biology, Brigham Young University.  Evolution unit.  Nobody is late for today’s class: Discussion on Science, Evolution, and Creationism.  Apparently there are not many people disinterested in this subject; most, like me, are listening intently.  As we read the BYU evolution packet I remember Elder Neal A. Maxwell’s assertion that “Restoration theology is expansive, not constraining” (Maxwell 6).  I must remember to keep an open mind about evolution and the processes whereby organisms adapt.

Scientists have documented natural selection really happening.  During a drought on Isle Daphne Major of the Galápagos, medium ground finches’ beaks increased in depth considerably, heightening their ability to survive eating harder seeds (Freeman 506-08).  Over time, this natural selection leads to evolution.  The process is occurring.  The problem I was left to grapple with is how this process fits into the larger plan presented by the Bible and Book of Mormon, which I know are true with far more certainty than evolution.  How is this reconciliation possible?

The answer is through meekness.  Both Maxwell and Cecil O. Samuelson Jr. cite meekness not as just one of many characteristics of a disciple-scholar, but as the chief characteristic of a disciple-scholar (Maxwell 12-15; Samuelson 44).  Nephi, the Book of Mormon prophet, is a quintessential example of meekness.

While journeying in the wilderness, all of Lehi’s sons lose the use of their bows.  When Lamen, Lemuel, and even the stalwart Lehi murmur, Nephi humbly makes another bow and asks his father, “Whither shall I go to obtain food?” (1 Nephi 16:23).  This meekness is one of the characteristics of Nephi that qualifies him for his glorious vision in chapter 11.  Nephi’s vision sheds light upon the mysteries of Lehi’s dream.  The big picture is shown and the individual events are explained.

At the end of the lecture the only pragmatic statement on evolution was that Adam and Eve are the primal parents of our race.  At first I wished something more tangible could be given out, but perhaps this quandary is best put to rest by the words of a wise roommate on the subject: “It’s not hard.  That’s what faith is all about.  You know the important stuff; you don’t need to know everything yet.”

Still dark.  Almost as quiet.  Unable to get anywhere without running into another quite-solid object, I call out quietly.  To my surprise, the deep baritone tone of my father’s voice rings out strong and true.  “I’ll get the light, son.”

Gradually, light fills the room from the dimmer switch.  A path materializes out of the darkness and confusion melts away.  Noticing my interest at the suddenly clear box, my father reminds me, “That’s our Christmas box I made.”  The box fits neatly into a clear grid pattern.  As I thread my way through the narrow, before-unseen path, my father puts his arm around me and together we walk inside.  I don’t yet need to see what else I could have bumped into.

Secular science explores boxes in the dark.  I would rather explore boxes in the light with the Maker close by, exploring the ones that He tells me about, listening to how the box fits into the larger pattern, and meekly trusting Him explicitly.

Works Cited

Freeman, Scott. Biological Science. 2^nd ed. New Jersey: Pearson/Prentice Hall, 2005.

Maxwell, Neal. “The Disciple-Scholar.” Learning in the Light of Faith. Ed. Henry B. Eyring. Salt Lake City: Bookcraft, 1999. 1-18.

Samuelson, Cecil O. Jr. “The Importance of Meekness in the Disciple-Scholar.” Learning in the Light of Faith. Ed. Henry B. Eyring. Salt Lake City: Bookcraft, 1999. 35-48.

On top of that great news, I took our Chemistry test and was very pleased with my score on the multiple choice section.  What I love about Chemistry is the sense of wonder emanating from our professor.  He truly sparks that natural curiosity about the world in his students.  I was wondering the other day about the hard water deposits on our glasses after we do the dishwasher.  Having just studied about solubility and acid-base reactions I was curious as to how detergent manages to tie up ions in the water.  I learned that the harder the water, the more detergent needs to be used.  Knowing what I know now I can equate that to Ksp and the five solubility rules.  I would be interested to learn more.

After the test I played some Super Smash Bros., which I haven't done for a while.  It was quite fun.  After that I took some soup up to a girl in our ward who is sick, then went to eat dinner at the all-you-can-eat cannon center (or cancer center, as my biology professor calls it).  Stuffed, our Freshman Academy community walked to the Marriott center, where one of our roommates performed in a celebration of Christmas with folk dances around the world.  Very fun.  After that I was privileged to go to the creamery with some friends, then come back and play catch phrase.  Overall, a very, very good day.

Today there is hardly anything going on.  Tests and assignments are mostly over.  It is the slow inhalation of air before the "final" push.  Finals are the week after next and everything is wrapping up in classes.

Furhermore, I got my Elks Lodge Scholarship form turned in a couple days ago and they just notified me that the Byrd scholarship checks are on their way.  These are both beneficial to my financial situation at college and I was excited to hear about them!

Until next time,

Sean

Another English Post Response

Years ago. Across the great, endless, narrow ocean we call a road, undulating across knolls to wind around rocky foothills. It was there that I found peace among the wild elements.

At the base of the enormous dual pine tree trunks sat two large boulders, white and sparkly with abundant mica, a castle and fortress to warriors littered about from the most recent squirt-gun fight. As accelerating skate boarders flew past on the sidewalk directly under the trees a small boy watched them from high above. Gradually the wind grew from a small summer breeze to a swift moving current strong enough to rustle hair. As the storm became more intense dark clouds cast a shadow over the ground years below. The warriors became 4th grade students again upon retreating from the onslaught into their closed houses. The skateboarders cooly picked up their transportation and dashed inside. Only the boy was left, swaying as much as 20 feet in the ferocious wind, the giant tree almost buckling under the pressure. Luckily the storm held no lightning. The boy's hair whipped around in wild exhilaration as observation became survival. The strong truck was a lifeline, the steadying rock before the waterfall. We leave the boy there, yelling a challenge to the sky as the elements pegged him with dihydrogen monoxide.

Jerry

For our Writing class we have to write a post every week on a topic, ask a question of our own, and then answer somebody else's question.  This week the topic was on our favorite books.  Remember, this is for our English class...

One of the people posted this post:

At a very early age, I discovered the world of books. I quickly exhausted my elementary school's small library and quickly moved on to the county library system. You ever read Matilda by Roald Dahl? Well, that was me. I read more than I talked, and that habit has followed me through my life. I've had to give up some of my reading for the sake of having a life, but I am still a very avid reader.

As a result, I can't actually tell you what my "favorite" book is. I have favorites in different genres and for different purposes, and I almost always "appreciate" books, especially the classics. So here is a few of my "favorites."

The Grapes of Wrath by John Steinbeck
Of Mice and Men by John Steinbeck (I have to say, he is probably my favorite author, with the exception of The Pearl, which I like to disregard as a small blemish on his superb writing style.)
The Maltese Falcon by Dashiell Hammett (one of the greatest mystery/detective stories of all time - Sam Spade is the best!)
Crime and Punishment by Fyodor Dostoyevsky (a truly compelling novel)
A Separate Peace by John Knowles
To Kill A Mockingbird by Harper Lee (one of my comfort books - I read it when I'm upset)
Lord of the Flies by William Golding (I read it when I want to be mad at the world ;) It has the most amazing metaphors!)
Macbeth by Shakespeare (as well as The Taming of the Shrew, Much Ado About Nothing, and Romeo and Juliet)
Tess of the d'Urbervilles by Thomas Hardy (beautiful imagery and characterizations, omgosh)

And I just realized that's a lot, and I haven't even gotten to my contemporary favorites yet... I'll refrain for now for your sake, as my reader. :)

Question: Are there any traits in a person's character that really, really drive you crazy?

Jerry, upon reading it, decided to (almost) write a response to her question:

Yeah!  When they suck up to the teacher!

Jerry and I have a great time

For English we have to write a post on a topic and then ask a question and then respond to somebody else's question. This is the question that I asked:

Here's a question! Do you have any theories you came up with on your own? Maybe a theory that nobody else believes?

This is Jerry's response (a combined effort between him and I):

I came up with a theory just reading this question, and you can't say that it's not true. "The universe revolves around Jerry Robertson." -Jerry Robertson-

Since the universe revolves around myself, and the fact that I defy the laws of the universe, you should all submit to my bidding.

Minesweeper in English!!!!!!!

Disciple-Scholar Writing Response

A disciple-scholar is not the same as a scholar-disciple.  Notice the order.  Thus our main focus must be on discipleship, and not on scholarship, which brings up the question: what does a disciple-scholar do that is different from a regular scholar?

 Disciple-y stuff.

 Which is what, exactly?

 A disciple is a follower.  A disciple of Christ is a follower of Christ.  How do we follow Christ and be scholarly at the same time?  Easily. The trick is recognizing that Christ is the Creator.  He is the Ultimate Scholar, the Ultimate Biologist, the Ultimate Chemist, the Ultimate Musician.  He created the earth, the seas, and all that in them is.  Can we not follow his perfect example and seek to obtain as much knowledge about the world we live in?  Then, taking knowledge one step farther, can we use the information to further God's work?  Can we consecrate the knowledge we gained through His help to His will?

 Submittance to a higher power than our own brings blessings of humility, meekness, and further opportunities to gain the knowledge that is paramount to our eternal progression.  Meekness is, after all, the best quality of a disciple-scholar.  Meekness is a quality of character.  One of the AIMS of a BYU education is to develop character.  The one thing that every BYU student should leave with is a character of meekness, ready to continue a lifelong pursuit of learning and service.

A Let Down!

The black, forbidding, thunderous night seemed to permeate every cubic inch of cold air in the room.  Wood and brick walls meant nothing to the feeling that ever encroached from the dark, tumultuous exterior of the building.  The dim light in the room flickered as the television, unwatched, showed the same scene from the horror show The Ghost and Mr. Chicken over and over again.

"Yes, you can!" the exasperated Sean said again.  "I've done it!"

"Look Sean, you have to prove it.  It has never happened to any of us before."

"If I'm right, ten dollars?"

"Only if I get ten if I'm right."

"Deal."

The ferocity of the storm grew as his futile effort augmented.  Past trying now, he took to the internet to see what others had to say.  The search returned many results, all with the same heading.  He clicked on the first result.  Just then the intensity of the storm rose to a feverous pitch.  The lightning crackled just outside, and with the BOOM! that followed immediately after, the power went out.  The computer screen flickered off, but not before the fateful words had entrenched themselves forever in his mind:

You cannot click on a bomb on the first click in Minesweeper (in Windows XP)!

Past Writing Experience Writing Response

Negative writing experiences can be found littered throughout my past.  I wouldn't call the frequency high, but conversely I cannot say that the frequency has been extremely low.  I find that instead of a specific teacher or paper my worst writing experiences have been those where my general condition does not meet the qualifications below.  I remember a particular experience writing a college entrance essay.  My time was short; it was due in a day or two.  I was at a critical period in high school and my workload was higher than our dorm's trash pile.  Pressure was increasing with that slow squeeze that constricts macrocosmic views until one can get lost in the details.  In my finished product it was evident that I was not prepared.

On the other hand, occasionally a gem will emerge from the raw carbon.  As I have done most writing in some sort of formalized class it is no surprise that good experiences have come out of AP English Literature.  Frame of mind is very important for me, but my frame of mind is predicated almost exclusively on the environment.  As my roommate can attest, I cannot work in a crowded, half-lit room on a small desk.  Things need to be clean and have space around them.  I recall one time in English class we wrote a forty minute essay in class based on a prompt our teacher put up on the whiteboard.  I was in a good mood that day, well-fed and smiling (smiling often goes with being well-fed).  The surrounding desks were clean, the pure white page smiled up at me like a window through the desk upon which it sat to a whole new world.  When I wrote my hand did not tire as fast.  As I turned it in satisfactorily at the completion of the excercise, I realized that I had just had a positive writing experience.

What makes the difference?  What is it about an individual situation that makes writing so easy or so difficult?  I can think of several factors.  Although these are ordered here, I believe the order is unique to each individual.

1. Environment, including surroundings, time constraints, noise level, amount of personal space, stress or pressure from other activities, and light levels.  The environment should especially be conducive to the Spirit.

2. Preparation.  This could be anything from eating the requisite amount of Cheerios for stimulating neurological impulses to hours and hours of research on the topic.

3. Frame of mind.  The writing frame of mind comes, to me at least, only at certain times.  Perhaps a frame of mind can come as a result of preparation.  Free writing and zero drafts may help to accomplish this goal.  Frame of mind can also be a direct result of the environment.

4. Mastery of Vocabulary/Grammar.  These fundamentals of the English language are the instrument with which ideas can be expressed.  A single idea can be expressed so differently between two writers, and it is their own unique expression of vocabulary and phrasing within the grammatical context of English that facilitates each writer's unique take.

I Am Writing Response

I am the hours and days.  I am the time spent reading.

I am the intense apprehension, disappointment, and elation.  I am the soccer game.

I am the aching muscles and wild thrill as the gusty wind hurdles about.  I am the summit of the mountain.

I am the white and black.  I am a Latter-day Saint.

I am the black and white.  I am the sharps and flats on a piano.

I am the sum and conglomeration.  I am the experiences.

I am the vanilla extract.

I am the peach Pace bar.

I am the small, soft breeze.

I am the rustling of deciduous leaves on trees in the small, soft breeze.

I am the deep, dark, navy blue of a favorite shirt.

I am the sum and conglomeration.  I am the senses.

I am the C.S. Lewis, wait, no, the Apple.  Ah, what I really meant is the long iTunes playlist.  Actually, now that I think about it, I would have to say the cleats and shin guards.  Shin guards?  Who wants to be that soaked with sweat?  Rather I am the abandon of a first grader finished with homework, laying amidst the sweet-smelling grass on a trampoline, the cool breeze offset by the slow warmth stealing up from the black tarp.

I am sometimes indecisive.

English House Exercise

I have decided to start posting up some of the little blurbs we write in our writing course.  Here's one we did today to get the creative juices flowing.  It didn't really work, but this is it in its rough, unaltered form.

I am making a house where the slap of feet echoes off the high ceiling onto the deceptively soft tile.  I am making a house where the spicy burn-your-nose scent of pine gives way to the fresh, cool, moist air, sounding of crickets chirruping.  I am building a house where the magic refrigerator drones like a bee.  Industry...in whiffs of chocolate and red sugar.

If You Blog It......

they will come.

Allegory of the...Freeway?

I was laying in bed the other night and thought this up and decided to turn on the light and write it in my journal. So here I thought I'd post it up, if I can decipher the handwriting that I wrote at midnight, and my handwriting is bad enough anyways! This will be copied word for word, because it's late right now, but in the future maybe I'll tweak it a little and improve it and maybe add some other ideas I've had since then, because this can be expanded. Additionally, both the real story and the symbolical meaning is sometimes incorporated into this mesh of words, so ideally the story will come first and then the explanation later, but that's a project for a different time. Here it is:

Life is like a highway. Sometimes we get off the exit and detour from our true destination, which is the celestial kingdom. Sometimes interchanges come up, and people take the roads to the other kingdoms. When we get off the narrow, straight freeway, sometimes the access to the on-ramp is blocked from the off-ramp. Sometimes we need to drive a little ways and then pop a U-turn (repent means to turn around) and bypass the roadblock through the help of our in-car navigation system kind of like OnStar - sometimes the volume is low - sometimes we can't remember where the volume control is - sometimes our arms don't seem long enough and we really have to work to reach it. However, a voice does come out of the navigation system, telling the will of Him who watches the position of our and every car on the satellite tracking system, overseeing legions of helpers recording every turn we make. He waits at our destination. Often we need the help of "officers" along the way, those who wear a badge of leadership and priesthood, those who venture out into the muddlesome places and attempt to direct those who are weaving ll over the road back to the main highway. Sometimes other officers (or perhaps the same one) regulate entrance to the highway by approving returners. They stand by a car wash, for being clean is of utmost importance on the highway. Additionally, it is sometimes a junior officer in training who actually raises the bar to let a freshly washed car onto the freeway. Sometimes it is hard for a car to find its way back because of the detours, but I testify there is an unblocked on-ramp for every car, if it chooses to seek it long and hard enough. Billboards along the road attempt to entice cars with their siren's song to take the next exit, but those that learn to listen and enjoy the soft music coming from the navigation radio never have need for the billboards and ignore them. Every week we pull into a rest area and refuel. Sometimes it seems the road will never end. Those in the know know that the real trick to getting to the destination is driving until your car wears out and collapses, for as we all know, roads never really end - everything is interconnected. After your car collapses, JC Grace Towing will come, evaluate your car, and decide whether it is worthy for the destination. If so, it will be taken the rest of the way by the towing company. The executive of the towing company is the only person with the key to the compound to which we all aspire. The number of dings on the front from giving those in front a nudge in troubled times might be evaluated, as well as any unwashed spots. Some try to crash early, while others take an exit and drive, trying to get away, but their car will eventually wear out too, and then they'll be in a pickle, because they will be so far away from the range of the towing company they will have to stay and roast and burn in the desert. Those who are closer but not on the freeway will have to pay a fee to be towed. Highway travelers get the service for free.

For you AP English graduates

Of course, if you've read the several stories, this would make sense to you as well, even if you haven't taken the ol' AP English.

What happened after? (a small excerpt of the upcoming #1 New York Times Bestseller)
By Sean Fisher

The moor was quite possibly the bleakest, drollest, most gray spit of boring land he had ever set eyes on. To top it off, he was cold. The grayish-blue was lightened only by a brighter white road winding through it. The road was white due to the peculiar nature of the rocks on the heath, which had years ago been collected and cobblestoned into a lithe track. The air was dead. No riffle of wind staggered through the surroundings. Even the weeds looked as if they were dying, which is hard for a weed to do. Through the blue, chilly haze of the expansive moor he could see a small cart trundling along perhaps a mile away. Along its side was boldly emblazoned an unrecognizable advertisement in peeling paint.

He turned. There was no joy to be had in meeting one of the inhabitants of this lonely forsaken wasteland. They had no wish to see the return of a native, as it were.

As the old man shambled along the road, his footsteps awkward but his blue eyes lucid and sure, he paid close attention to the flowers lining the roadway. The yellow cut a cold contrast to the stark white of the cobblestones. As a traveler from distant lands he had seen many flowers, but never before had he seen this flower in such proliferation. It positively lined the path, sparked decades before by the thoughtlessness of a passing repairman. The yellow was powerful. It was not necessarily happy. The conditions of its birth were much too heart-rending for that, but the emotion imbued into that simple yellow color immediately caught his eye. He knelt down and touched the fuzzy cluster of small petals. Chrysanthemums.