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Category: games

a COLgo endgame

Published January 17, 2018 by lievenlb

COL is a map-colouring game, attibuted to Colin Vout. COLgo is COL played with Go-stones on a go-board.

The two players, bLack (left) and white (right) take turns placing a stone of their colour on the board, but two stones of the same colour may not be next to each other.

The first player unable to make a legal move looses this game.

As is common in combinatorial game theory we do not specify which player has the move. There are $4$ different outcomes, the game is called:

– positive, if there is a winning strategy for Left (bLack),
– negative, if there is a winning strategy for Right (white),
– zero, if there is a winning strategy for the second-player,
– fuzzy, if there is a winning strategy for the first player.

Here’s an endgame problem: who wins this game?

Spoiler alert: solution below.

First we can exclude all spots which are dead, that is, are excluded for both players. Example, F11 is dead because it neighbors a black as well as a white stone, but F10 is alive as it can be played by white (Right).

If we remove all dead spots, we are left with 4 regions (the four extremal corners of the board) as well as 5 spots, 3 for white and 2 for black.

That is, the game reduces to this “sum”-game, in which a player chooses one of the regions and does a legal move in that component, or takes a stone of its own colour from the second row.

Next, we have to give a value to each of the region-games.

– the right-most game has value $0$ as the second player has a winning strategy by reflecting the first player’s move with respect to the central (dead) spot.

– the left-most game is equivalent to one black stone. Black can make two moves in the game, independent of the only move that white can make. So it has value $+1$.

– the sum-game of the two middle games has value zero. The second player can win by mirroring the first player’s move in the other component. This is called the Tweedledee-Tweedledum argument.

But then, the total value of the endgame position is

zero, so the first player to move looses the game!

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Chomp and the moonshine thread

Published January 10, 2018 by lievenlb

Chomp is a 2-player game, usually played with chocolate bars.

The players take turns in choosing one chocolate block and “eat it”, together with all other blocks that are below it and to its right. There is a catch: the top left block contains poison, so the first player forced to eat it dies, that is, looses the game.

If you start with a rectangular bar, the first player has a winning strategy, though it may take you too long to actually find the correct first move. See this post for the strategy-stealing argument.

If you label the blocks of the rectangular bar by $(a,b)$ with $0 \leq a \leq k$ and $0 \leq b \leq l$, with the poisonous one being $(0,0)$, then this can be viewed as choosing a divisor $d$ of $N=p^k q^l$ and removing all multiples of $d$ from the set of divisors of $N$. The first person forced to name $1$ looses.

This allows for higher dimensional versions of Chomp.

If you start with the set of all divisors of a given natural number $N$, then the strategy-stealing argument shows that the first player has a winning move.

A general position of the game corresponds to a finite set of integers, closed under taking divisors. At each move the player has to choose an element of this set and remove it as well as all its multiples.

The thread of $(N|1)$, relevant in understanding a moonshine group of the form $(n|m)+e,f,\dots$ with $N=n \times h$, consists of all divisors of $N$.

But then, the union of all threads for all 171 moonshine groups is a position in higher dimensional Chomp.

Who wins starting from this moonshine thread?

Perhaps not terribly important, but it forces one to imagine the subgraph of the monstrous moonshine picture on the $97$ number-lattices way better than by its Hasse diagram.

Click on the image for a larger version.

By the way, notice the (slight) resemblance with the ‘monstrous moonshine painting’ by Atria

Here’s how the Hasse diagram of the moonshine thread was produced. These are ‘notes to self’, because I tend to forget such things quickly.

1. Work though the list of 171 moonshine groups in Monstrous Moonshine, pages 327-329. Add to a list all divisors of $N$ for a group of type $N+e,f,\dots$ or $n|h+e,f,\dots$ with $N=n \times h$. This should give you these $97$ integers:

1,2,3,4,5,6,7,8,9,10,11,12,13,14,15,16,17,18,19,20,21,22,23,24,25,26,27,28,29,30,
31,32,33,34,35,36,38,39,40,41,42,44,45,46,47,48,50,51,52,54,55,56,57,59,60,62,
63,64,66,68,69,70,71,72,78,80,84,87,88,90,92,93,94,95,96,104,105,110,112,117,
119,120,126,136,144,160,168,171,176,180,208,224,252,279,288,360,416

2. Let $L$ be this list and use Sage:

P=Poset((L,attrcall("divides")),linear_extension=True)
H=P.hasse_diagram()
H.graphviz_string()

3. Copy the output to a file, say chomp.dot, and remove all new-line breaks from it.

4. Install Graphviz on Mac OS X.

5. In Terminal, type
dot -Tpng chomp.dot -o chomp.png

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Life on Gaussian primes

Published July 26, 2017 by lievenlb

At the moment I’m re-reading Siobhan Roberts’ biography of John Horton Conway, Genius at play – the curious mind of John Horton Conway.

In fact, I’m also re-reading Alexander Masters’ biography of Simon Norton, The genius in my basement – the biography of a happy man.

If you’re in for a suggestion, try to read these two books at about the same time. I believe it is beneficial to both stories.

Whatever. Sooner rather than later the topic of Conway’s game of life pops up.

Conway’s present pose is to yell whenever possible ‘I hate life!’. Problem seems to be that in book-indices in which his name is mentioned (and he makes a habit of checking them all) it is for his invention of the game of Life, and not for his greatest achievement (ihoo), the discovery of the surreal numbers.

If you have an hour to spare (btw. enjoyable), here are Siobhan Roberts and John Conway, giving a talk at Google: “On His LOVE/HATE Relationship with LIFE”

By synchronicity I encounter the game of life now wherever I look.

Today it materialised in following up on an old post by Richard Green on G+ on Gaussian primes.

As you know the Gaussian integers $\mathbb{Z}[i]$ have unique factorization and its irreducible elements are called Gaussian primes.

The units of $\mathbb{Z}[i]$ are $\{ \pm 1,\pm i \}$, so Gaussian primes appear in $4$- or $8$-tuples having the same distance from the origin, depending on whether a prime number $p$ remains prime in $\mathbb{Z}[i]$ or splits.

Here’s a nice picture of Gaussian primes, taken from Oliver Knill’s paper Some experiments in number theory

Note that the natural order of prime numbers is changed in the process (look at the orbits of $3$ and $5$ (or $13$ and $17$).

Because the lattice of Gaussian integers is rectangular we can look at the locations of all Gaussian primes as the living cell in the starting position on which to apply the rules of Life.

Here’s what happens after one move (left) and after three moves (right):

Knill has a page where you can watch life on Gaussian primes in action.

Even though the first generations drastically reduce the number of life spots, you will see that there remains enough action, at least close enough to the origin.

Knill has this conjecture:

When applying the game of life cellular automaton to the Gaussian primes, there is motion arbitrary far away from the origin.

What’s the point?

Well, this conjecture is equivalent to the twin prime conjecture for the Gaussian integers $\mathbb{Z}[i]$, which is formulated as

“there are infinitely pairs of Gaussian primes whose Euclidian distance is $\sqrt{2}$.”

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