Let's Make A Deal

[jporter]

There are three doors...

behind one- paradise, behind the other two- eternal damnation.

You choose door number one, but before your door is opened, the
dealmaker/doorman/gatekeeper strides up to door number three and flings it
open. Flames, noxious volcanic gases, brimstone- come flying out. The
dealmaker slams it shut, turns back to you and asks, politely, "Would you
like to change your choice to door number two, or, would you rather stay
with door number one?"

Hint- the probablities for reaching paradise are NOT equal, despite the
claim (by THEM?) where all roads may lead.

(See: John Tierney, N.Y. Times, July 21, 1991, p.A1/A20)

The Monty Hall Problem is just an inverted version of the notorious paradox
in probability theory known as the Jailor's Paradox: Three prisoners, one
condemned to death. Prisoner A asks the jailor, to which of the other two- B
or C- he should give his "goodbye to the wife and kids letter," i.e., which
of the other two will NOT die. The jailor hesistates, thinking that if he
lets on to A that one of the other two will NOT die, it will decrease A's
own hope for survival, and he will have an even more miserable final night.

It turns out that the jailor's concerns are misguided. A's probability of
dying is still only 1/3, even if the jailor tells him that B is not the one.
As counterintuitive as it seems, however, the probability of C being
executed has now increased to 2/3. [Randomness, Deborah J. Bennett, Havard
University Press, 1998. pp 178-181].


I'm not sure if Pynchon is toying with the Jailor's Paradox, in the
Gaucho/Evan jail scene, but it wouldn't surprise me. The Gaucho's need to
alert Cuernacabron (anyone else pick up a reference to _Under the Volcano_
in that name?) by a message seemed like a clue, but the lack of a third
prisoner threw me off. Then I remembered that this is Tom, and, in a pinch,
the reader is always available. (Which doesn't bode well given that Evan and
the Gaucho are both released.)

I'm still working on that angle. Also, with respect to John Bailey's
original question about the significance of "Mantissa," I'm pretty sure this
must refer to the non-repeating decimal expansion of the irrational
transcendental number, e, the base of the natural logarithms. As e is
greater than 2 but always falls short of 3, so Mantissa sits somewhere
between the unoticeable Cesare- beneath suspicion- and, Hugh, who has been
to the motionless pole. I'm still working on it. Any help would be
appreciated.

jody