**S**ix months running I worked alone in my garage on **primality**. Used the topic to divert my thoughts,, while trying to fall asleep from some seriously depressing side-concerns, several of which I’m actually forbidden to discuss here.

Factored every number in turn up to 2000 and beyond in my head, developed tricks for dividing by every number under the Sun.

The point is that I knew that I had a **Goal,** I just felt it in my bones. Resisted boning up on Fermat, Euler, Poisson, all the gang who’ve been obsessed on the question for millennia. Somehow I knew that my approach was.. *emotional?*

Early on I ‘**got it’** that if 41 is prime here on Earth, Rock 3 from the Sun, then it was also prime in the Pleiades. This is **oddly and truly comforting** to realize. You got 41 pebbles on the beach in an alien star system? Well god help ’em, even the smartest ETs can’t line ’em up in tidy rows and columns. We are not alone? At least in our misery.

And with all respect to my older son’s claim, Primality has *‘nuttin’* to do with choice of number-base system. I finally agreed to disagree, told him to ** ‘Enjoy yer world where stuff is, like ‘different’**, and stopped arguing.

And now to Emotions.. Feelings:

Um I feel a deep dislike, hatred even, of, for example, ’61’, that sad-sack number. (God should wipe out his Name and Memory). To my mind and heart there are

**four Prime Numbers, as per the title: 2,3,5, and 7.**

All the rest are losers, ne’er-do-wells, and misfits.

Now it’s not rocket science to discover that lots of primes occur as pairs ‘Twin Primes’ as they are called. Almost always on either side of a nice number divisible by 6. Like, say 42,(six times seven), surrounded by 41 and 43, evil little failed numerals.

Let’s look at 61 for a moment. He lives right beside 60, who has almost nightly parties on the lawn with his many loving factors: 15, 12, 10, 6, 5, 4, 3, and 2. Hot dogs and buns, who cares that they’re sold in 6-pax and 8-pax, he’ll get by. He even made friends with Heinz ketchup (57 kinds) after he realized that 57 is really just 3 sub-flavour-groups with 19 varieties in each group. Yeah, even in the Pleiades.

So 61 is jealous at root, and spiteful to boot. The side-porch he built toward the other neighbor, ’62’, gave him less

*‘misery loves company’*consolation than he’d hoped. ’62’ entertains 31 and the busy-but-party-animal 2 almost every week-end… while 61 hides in his stupid basement , alone with a cheap beer and some pirated math-porn.

I have zero sympathy, it turns out. They made a choice, now need to live wid it.

**Eleven,**you might say, why not include eleven?

Good question, and here’s a good answer: Of all the numbers up to 2000, eleven ‘owns’ a pathetic three integers: his own sorry ass, plus 121 and 1331. All the rest belong to other ‘real-men’ primes. I’ll explain:

First of all, ‘2’ grabs fully half of the natural numbers, *the even ones, duh.*

Then 3 goes out to claim a third of them, but comes back, tail between his legs, with one-sixth. Half of his ‘clients’ were already claimed by 2, like 6, 12, 18, 24, etc.

**Five’s turn happens,** and his dream of twenty percent kinda melts like an ice-cube here in the Israeli summer: Numbers ending in ‘0’ belong to 2 already, and of what’s left, say 15,25,35,45,65, etc, well, ‘3’ already grabbed a third of them.

**Seven** has the shittiest deal, one could say. Every one of his homies has been tagged by some other gang, save 49 and 91 (of numbers up to one- hundred.) Either they’re even, or divisible by 3 or 5. Ninety-one is where he hides out and built his embassy. But only because Johnny ‘Pluto-ized’ 13. (7X13=91)

So, enough already. I don’t give a rat’s ass about ‘percentage of primes approaches asymptotically n/log-n.’

Like in any social setting, even Word-Press, once you decide who your **real Friends** are, the rest is stamp-collecting. I’m ‘friend-ing 2357 and disabling ‘Requests’.

I do hope anyone reading enjoyed this romp. I just tell the truth, like Truman; *other folks* call it number-hell/ JS

promisesunshineforbidden!

I bet it’s composite.

solberg73Post authorHey, thanks for the comment. Only two questions: What’s forbidden? And who’s composite?

I’m dense lately I guess.

promisesunshineI got stuck on the part where you said you were forbidden to speak of something. Forbidden things can be so enticing.

As for composite, I was trying to make a joke that actually referred to the content of your post. Prime/composite. Yep.

May I further add that your comment struck me as funny as your post. 🙂 I’m glad you have good distractions in the midst of your side concerns.

solberg73Post authorAha! Goosebumps here to realize (with your help!) the meaning of your sly comment. Yes, ‘composite’ side-issues indeed. I’m happy to have discovered ‘mental math’ as a distraction, esp late nights and early mornings, when the demons attack; it’s almost life and death.

And just wait, we’ll see what deliciously cryptic aside Duncan SWH has to throw in. Almost never easily comprehensible without Google …and then a similar ‘Aha’ moment. Thanks again, kid

promisesunshinesleeping is over-rated

google is essential.

eleanorioNow, if only you’d included 1 at the beginning, you’d have my complete birth date. So there.

solberg73Post authorWell ain’t that a potentially meaningful coincidence. I’d love to say that I *felt something*, and hence my choice. At any rate, a handy way to remember the ‘yom holedet’ of one of my favorite readers and friends.

solberg73Post authorFood for thought, that. I spent decades working construction days and onstage nights till 3AM, sleeping a few hours a day. Before Google. Back then Helena, Montana was ‘IDK’ unless you remembered from 7th grade or ran to a library. I recently googled ‘recommended hours of sleep’ (8) and now am almost normative. But I do miss being worshipped as a ‘human-google’ back before everyone became equally smart.. if ya give him a couple clicks.

promisesunshineI know! Libraries! Encyclopedias! And now information available all the time. I was never a “human-google”, but I do hope I get smarter every day. (Except for the days I don’t)

happierheathenI like primes. Really huge ones. And lots of ’em. I identify with them and they make me feel secure. Ain’t nuthin’ cryptic about that, eh?

solberg73Post authorHa, spent a good week, before learning about how complex RSA actually is mathematically, trying to DIY a cryptic scheme, just to prove (to myself) dat I’z schmart. No go. I used 899 as a test. It’s X times Y, both primes. See how long it takes you to solve for x and y. In your head, of course. Glad to hear from you/ JS

somewittyhandleThe cross-Pleiadean synchrinicity that 2357 is itself a prime, only remains true if you concede that much to your eldest son.

The ‘lining pebbles into rows and columns’ point is a stroke of genius. It perfectly and tangibly illustrates (actually without even the need for numerals at all, let alone a base system) the meaning of prime. Even Nero couldn’t make a grid out of XXXXI , however he fiddled it.

somewittyhandleI just verified: a 3-year old can understand the concept of prime, given your pebbles, rows, columns example. Truly illuminating.

solberg73Post authorWow, triple goose-bumps to hear that!! Can’t believe I merited showing that dear sweetheart something possibly new. And yes, I was happy to ‘discover’ my ties with the Arcturans, we’ve a common unsolvable challenge: Toast always falls to the planet’s surface butter-side down. .. Oh, and primes.

Roadkill SpatulaI don’t think I’ve ever dwelt on numbers during my hours (more commonly minutes) of insomnia, except maybe a couple of times when they had dollar signs in front of them and had arrived in the mail from a creditor.

Primes are fascinating. I was very impressed with your reasoning in setting up the first four as an elite that get to watch the game from the owner’s box while the rest have to sit in the sun with the hoi-polloi and drink beer instead of cocktails, undistinguished except for the secret handshake shared with other primes they may encounter at the refreshments stand.

solberg73Post authorThat’s an excellent re-statement of my mental picture, Tim. Yeah, take ’em out to the ball game. And even 2357, who tried to leverage name-recognition watched the whole game from the blue-lips concourse.

I suppose I could have chosen a number of other subjects to use to keep my panic-prone mind firmly in neutral; this one works, and I’m sincerely fascinated by it.