It is, once again, the evening, and I find myself sitting around, mulling about life as I await the opportune moment to head out for training. I find that I feel a strong sense of ennui more than anything else, as though there are very few things left in the world that are really worth any effort to look into or something. That blocking feeling that I felt in my head when I was still in the US on that fateful trip for my PhD is returning, but this time I think I can attribute it to the general lack of sleep as I struggle to balance the time spent on physical training and work.
Time really flies.
I hadn't realised that it was almost the end of the month until I suddenly decided to take a slightly closer look at the calendar. Within the month itself, I simultaneously feel as though I had done a lot and done nothing at the same time. Paradoxical feelings seem to be the rule of the day and that kind of double-think is something that I am unwittingly beginning to accept.
Why write now?
That's a question that always plague my mind. It is not as though I write blog entries on a regular basis any more---it feels more like a journal than a diary. I have no incentive nor the time to be writing every day, so each time that I do end up contributing an article to my own blog I always think of it as a specific event that has some form of significance.
I think I might be in love. Or at least, having a strong sensation of crushing on someone.
It is that sense of having a crush on someone that is probably the cause of my latest vexations. I want to be close, yet we are not really close. I want to be cool, but I'm not really that cool. I want to break out of a single mold that I might be in to be the real me, but I fear the rejection of that real me. I cannot tell what I am doing right now. Perhaps I should really cool off and let this crush work itself out---stop thinking of her for a moment and let everything settle down.
I have the funny feeling that I have been too aggressive for almost no reason, and with that, pushing my chances to ever be with her just a little further, even without considering the implausibility of its success due to all the various mitigating factors. Or maybe I'm just a worry-wart, and she's just feeling annoyed at her discomfort from training that evening, and surprised at another facet of myself that she hasn't seen and is therefore trying to process all that.
I don't know.
Thursday, July 25, 2013
Sunday, July 07, 2013
Self-Identifying Categorisation
Time to rant.
In spite of doing lots of machine learning/data mining stuff, I really dislike having to categorise things. Especially people. Actually, I hate categorising people. The mere act of categorising people is exactly the act of discrimination, which from the perspective of the liberal is a term that is taboo. It is also a term that has been drilled into my head as being ``not good'' for a multi-racial society, but of course I am alluding to the ``bullshit'' notion of what race is. But I digress.
We are wired for handle ``simple'' knowledge. Part of the power of being a human is the ability to abstract, generalise and then specialise the abstraction to specific instances. For instance, Science is the systematic study of phenomena in the attempt at understanding the underlying principles (generalisation), link up similar principles (generalise) and then try to apply the principles when a similar phenomenon in a completely different domain is observed (specialisation). Lucky for us though, Science, as a whole, is generally quite good at doing this.
The problem comes when we start applying such concepts to people. Especially when we are talking about various abstractions with respect to the way we think and react to the world.
Why would this be a problem, one might ask. There are two reasons that I can think of: first, the abstraction or thus category of the person's thought and reaction patterns is somewhat self-propagating, and second, this categorisation process is often used as the bulwark against any form of criticism. Allow me to elaborate before jumping on my case.
A self-propagating categorisation is as it describes -- one may demonstrate the qualities that might be thought of to be in a specific category X, and when told of the categorisation, it acts as a form of suggestion. Most people are quite suggestible, related to the fact that most people are unwilling to use their reasoning powers if they can do so, and this suggestibility is what causes that categorisation to be perpetuated throughout the life time of the person involved. And this in term helps propagate silly stereotypes -- ``once a thief, always a thief'', ``all X people have the Y behaviour''. This is one reason we have idiots.
Using a categorisation as a bulwark is more subtle and definitely more insidious than the first reason that I proposed. The subtlety comes from the empathetic factor that the self-identification of the categorisation is supposed to elicit -- telling someone that ``I am introverted''/``I am autistic'' evokes certain senses of emotions in most people. It is subtle because short of doing a diagnosis, no one can truly verify if the categorisation is true. The insidious aspect of this is when people learn from the empathetic responses and leverage on it to just be an overall jerk. ``I am introverted'' gets translated to ``well pardon me for treating you with the cold shoulder -- you know I don't like to use up my energy to communicate with people'', while ``I am autistic'' gets translated to ``sorry for being an overall jerk who speaks loud, speaks using my own lingo, and have a general lack of common sense''. A less petty example would be the use of the ``insanity defense'' for people who actually have pre-meditation.
Why rant about this? Annoyance. Just because you self-identify that you are of category X is no excuse that the rest of the world has to figure out how to deal with you. I've seen a few of those ``info-graphics'' where they write about ``How to live with X''. In the entire info-graphic, all I am hearing is basically me, me and me -- how to do things that will please me and only me. It sounds as though being in category X provides the mandate for stagnation, that one who is in category X will not find the middle ground, and anyone who wants to deal needs to do it on one's terms.
I call bullshit on that.
This is the exact same reason why there are many times when I get mad at the whole institution of marriage and the way some women carry themselves. But that is reserved for a special rant some other time. I think I have written enough on what I wanted. Till the next update.
In spite of doing lots of machine learning/data mining stuff, I really dislike having to categorise things. Especially people. Actually, I hate categorising people. The mere act of categorising people is exactly the act of discrimination, which from the perspective of the liberal is a term that is taboo. It is also a term that has been drilled into my head as being ``not good'' for a multi-racial society, but of course I am alluding to the ``bullshit'' notion of what race is. But I digress.
We are wired for handle ``simple'' knowledge. Part of the power of being a human is the ability to abstract, generalise and then specialise the abstraction to specific instances. For instance, Science is the systematic study of phenomena in the attempt at understanding the underlying principles (generalisation), link up similar principles (generalise) and then try to apply the principles when a similar phenomenon in a completely different domain is observed (specialisation). Lucky for us though, Science, as a whole, is generally quite good at doing this.
The problem comes when we start applying such concepts to people. Especially when we are talking about various abstractions with respect to the way we think and react to the world.
Why would this be a problem, one might ask. There are two reasons that I can think of: first, the abstraction or thus category of the person's thought and reaction patterns is somewhat self-propagating, and second, this categorisation process is often used as the bulwark against any form of criticism. Allow me to elaborate before jumping on my case.
A self-propagating categorisation is as it describes -- one may demonstrate the qualities that might be thought of to be in a specific category X, and when told of the categorisation, it acts as a form of suggestion. Most people are quite suggestible, related to the fact that most people are unwilling to use their reasoning powers if they can do so, and this suggestibility is what causes that categorisation to be perpetuated throughout the life time of the person involved. And this in term helps propagate silly stereotypes -- ``once a thief, always a thief'', ``all X people have the Y behaviour''. This is one reason we have idiots.
Using a categorisation as a bulwark is more subtle and definitely more insidious than the first reason that I proposed. The subtlety comes from the empathetic factor that the self-identification of the categorisation is supposed to elicit -- telling someone that ``I am introverted''/``I am autistic'' evokes certain senses of emotions in most people. It is subtle because short of doing a diagnosis, no one can truly verify if the categorisation is true. The insidious aspect of this is when people learn from the empathetic responses and leverage on it to just be an overall jerk. ``I am introverted'' gets translated to ``well pardon me for treating you with the cold shoulder -- you know I don't like to use up my energy to communicate with people'', while ``I am autistic'' gets translated to ``sorry for being an overall jerk who speaks loud, speaks using my own lingo, and have a general lack of common sense''. A less petty example would be the use of the ``insanity defense'' for people who actually have pre-meditation.
Why rant about this? Annoyance. Just because you self-identify that you are of category X is no excuse that the rest of the world has to figure out how to deal with you. I've seen a few of those ``info-graphics'' where they write about ``How to live with X''. In the entire info-graphic, all I am hearing is basically me, me and me -- how to do things that will please me and only me. It sounds as though being in category X provides the mandate for stagnation, that one who is in category X will not find the middle ground, and anyone who wants to deal needs to do it on one's terms.
I call bullshit on that.
This is the exact same reason why there are many times when I get mad at the whole institution of marriage and the way some women carry themselves. But that is reserved for a special rant some other time. I think I have written enough on what I wanted. Till the next update.
Friday, July 05, 2013
Wednesday, July 03, 2013
That Bubble of Isolation
It's extremely late now, considering that it is a work week, so I shall make this fast. Also, it has been a while since I wrote an entry at the ``traditional'' witching hour -- bear a little with me.
As I was hopping on the Circle line and the NEL home today, I came to a startling realisation that I am living in a bubble.
Yes a bubble. There is no mistake. A bubble of social isolation, a bubble of indifference to the legions of people who may be surrounding me at the time. It is not wholly intentional that it turned out that way. I was talking briefly with a friend recently on how when I travel on the MRT system (or bus too, but that wasn't really brought up during the discussion), I basically ``turn off'' my central vision and just operate wholly on the peripheral vision that I have the luxury of cultivating over the past decade of my life. It wasn't because I didn't want to see -- it was more of the fact that everyone was standing so damn close to me that if I tried to take in everyone, my myopia would be worse. We are talking about staring at a person's head that is no more than four inches away from one's nose; it is not a distance to be using the focal power of the eye.
And people wonder why Singapore has the highest ratio of myopes in the population in the world.
But the visual separation aside, that I am ``plugged in'' heightens the sense of the bubble. And no, it is not just me. Almost everyone else who is on the MRT are ``plugged in'' in one way or another. My choice of vice is a pair of in-ear self-sealing headphones to reduce the external noise, but there are others who keep in their little bubbles of drama videos loaded on their phones, or the latest mobile game fad, again on the same phones. Each of us are living in our own little bubbles, where we get completely oblivious to the world around us.
In some sense, it sounds like a utopia, the triumph of the individual over the conformities of society. But really it is far from the truth. While the individual freedom seems obvious, we have really traded in true freedom for a temporary reprieve that is really our bane in the future. I am lucky in a sense -- I am still old school enough to actually have friends who are willing to physically talk about things with me. But I suspect that the same situation is not true given this time and age, and with that, I feel sorry for our generation.
I am nearing thirty. The realisation that I am living in a bubble is horrifying to me in another way. I find to my horror that given the current situation of isolationism of the individual, it becomes even more statistically improbable that I can meet up with women, let alone meet up with potential spouses. It is rather disturbing to me at this point, but it hasn't gotten to the level where I start to get anxiety attacks and panic attacks.
I don't really want to do something completely out of character just to impress a girl. I find it superfluous and untruthful. Yet it seems that everyone seems to be more interested in the charade of romance than actually dealing with the true nature of ther person who is pursuing them. I'm not sure how this will turn out.
The feeling of isolation while travelling is probably quite normal, considering everything, but I feel the same even in the work place. I2R isn't the same as before -- the management and thus direction has changed, and the people make-up have also changed a lot. Friends that I had made from my two years of attachment there have mostly moved on in their lives, and I am now working all out and all in to rush a project whose delay I wasn't the cause of.
It is not that there is no one to talk to at work. If I gave that impression in my previous tirade, I apologise as it wasn't really what I was going for. I just find rather sombrely that I am merely a small cog in the machine that is the research institute, especially since I am a ``failed'' scholar who came back with only a course-based Masters degree. No PhD, but not even a thesis-ed Masters -- I'm only a smidgen higher than dirt in the pecking order. Maybe the sense of inferiority and the failure to meet up with expectation holds me back from joining the main lunch crowd to idly pass an hour with conversation, or it could be that the group dynamics have changed to the point that I have regressed back to my usual role of the outsider looking in. Who really knows?
I have been thinking about my life for quite a while, well specifically, what I am doing with my life and what I need to do with my life. I think all this while, I have been thinking too small. I have been too altruistic and neglected the more mercenary pragmatism that the world runs on. Perhaps it is time to go along such a path to maximise my ``true'' potential, or whatever excess/hidden capacity that I have given the disastrous attempt at the PhD. But this is something that requires the next two to four years to work out. Compared with some of my peers, I am actually doing alright, but compared to what this society is demanding, I think I can definitely do better, much much better. If mediocrity can earn undeserved credit, imagine what excellence can earn when done correctly!
Ah life. I'm always bitching about it. And now, something a little more hush-hush.
Abg gbb ybat ntb V gevrq gb pbagvahr n engure srroyr ebznapr gung ortna arneyl gjb lrnef ntb. Ohg nf nyjnlf jvgu erfcrpg gb znggref cregnvavat guvf gbcvp, vg snvyrq, ohg vg snvyrq va n irel vagrerfgvat fbeg bs jnl. Va fbzr frafr, V guvax gung V unir bognvarq fbzr engure inyhnoyr qngn ba zlfrys. Jvgubhg vafhygvat nalbar, yrg'f whfg fnl gung V unir ernyvfrq gung V pnaabg oevat zlfrys gb snyy va ybir jvgu fbzrbar vasrevbe va gur jnlf bs gur jbeyq. V fbeg bs oynzr guvf ba gur jubyr Wnar Nhfgra'f ``Cevqr naq Cerwhqvpr'' gung V jnf ernqvat qhevat gur crevbq, ohg gur qvfpbirel erznvaf gur fnzr. V pnaabg gbyrengr gneqvarff; vg naablf zr zhpu zber guna urnevat anvyf fpengpuvat npebff gur oynpxobneq. V gevrq gb bireybbx gung, V gevrq irel uneq. Ohg vg xrcg ba ohttvat zr. V pnaabg tb bhg jvgu fbzrbar jub vf qhzo naq ershfrf gb orggre urefrys, rira jura gur vffhr vf cbvagrq bhg ng cbvag-oynax. Gbb qnza rknfcrengvat. Naq V'z abg rira guvaxvat nobhg guvf sebz n frkhny crefcrpgvir -- gung vf jung nznmrf zr gur zbfg. Rvgure zl yvovqb vf qlvat/qrnq, be V unir gehyl ``zngherq'', jungrire gur uryy gung zrnaf. Va nal pnfr, V unir lrg nabgure qngn cbvag ba gur glcr bs crefba V jbhyq yvxr gb tb bhg jvgu. V guvax gur znagen bs abg snyyvat va ybir jvyy fgvyy freir zr jryy rira cbfg CuQ, naq V nz fgvyy xrrcvat zl zbhfgnpur jvgu zr; vg urycf xrrc gur syvtugl jbzra ng onl.
But I digress. Back to the whole sense of isolation. While I acknowledge it, I am still uncertain if I am wholly comfortable with it at this point -- the associated peace and quiet that I get is at times comforting. Since I am more free-spirited than those around me, I still can derive my own sort of pleasure in spite of all this. So maybe this isn't so bad after all.
Anyway, it is now apparent that I have reached stupid o'clock. I need to crash out now before I completely lose it. Till the next update then.
As I was hopping on the Circle line and the NEL home today, I came to a startling realisation that I am living in a bubble.
Yes a bubble. There is no mistake. A bubble of social isolation, a bubble of indifference to the legions of people who may be surrounding me at the time. It is not wholly intentional that it turned out that way. I was talking briefly with a friend recently on how when I travel on the MRT system (or bus too, but that wasn't really brought up during the discussion), I basically ``turn off'' my central vision and just operate wholly on the peripheral vision that I have the luxury of cultivating over the past decade of my life. It wasn't because I didn't want to see -- it was more of the fact that everyone was standing so damn close to me that if I tried to take in everyone, my myopia would be worse. We are talking about staring at a person's head that is no more than four inches away from one's nose; it is not a distance to be using the focal power of the eye.
And people wonder why Singapore has the highest ratio of myopes in the population in the world.
But the visual separation aside, that I am ``plugged in'' heightens the sense of the bubble. And no, it is not just me. Almost everyone else who is on the MRT are ``plugged in'' in one way or another. My choice of vice is a pair of in-ear self-sealing headphones to reduce the external noise, but there are others who keep in their little bubbles of drama videos loaded on their phones, or the latest mobile game fad, again on the same phones. Each of us are living in our own little bubbles, where we get completely oblivious to the world around us.
In some sense, it sounds like a utopia, the triumph of the individual over the conformities of society. But really it is far from the truth. While the individual freedom seems obvious, we have really traded in true freedom for a temporary reprieve that is really our bane in the future. I am lucky in a sense -- I am still old school enough to actually have friends who are willing to physically talk about things with me. But I suspect that the same situation is not true given this time and age, and with that, I feel sorry for our generation.
I am nearing thirty. The realisation that I am living in a bubble is horrifying to me in another way. I find to my horror that given the current situation of isolationism of the individual, it becomes even more statistically improbable that I can meet up with women, let alone meet up with potential spouses. It is rather disturbing to me at this point, but it hasn't gotten to the level where I start to get anxiety attacks and panic attacks.
I don't really want to do something completely out of character just to impress a girl. I find it superfluous and untruthful. Yet it seems that everyone seems to be more interested in the charade of romance than actually dealing with the true nature of ther person who is pursuing them. I'm not sure how this will turn out.
The feeling of isolation while travelling is probably quite normal, considering everything, but I feel the same even in the work place. I2R isn't the same as before -- the management and thus direction has changed, and the people make-up have also changed a lot. Friends that I had made from my two years of attachment there have mostly moved on in their lives, and I am now working all out and all in to rush a project whose delay I wasn't the cause of.
It is not that there is no one to talk to at work. If I gave that impression in my previous tirade, I apologise as it wasn't really what I was going for. I just find rather sombrely that I am merely a small cog in the machine that is the research institute, especially since I am a ``failed'' scholar who came back with only a course-based Masters degree. No PhD, but not even a thesis-ed Masters -- I'm only a smidgen higher than dirt in the pecking order. Maybe the sense of inferiority and the failure to meet up with expectation holds me back from joining the main lunch crowd to idly pass an hour with conversation, or it could be that the group dynamics have changed to the point that I have regressed back to my usual role of the outsider looking in. Who really knows?
I have been thinking about my life for quite a while, well specifically, what I am doing with my life and what I need to do with my life. I think all this while, I have been thinking too small. I have been too altruistic and neglected the more mercenary pragmatism that the world runs on. Perhaps it is time to go along such a path to maximise my ``true'' potential, or whatever excess/hidden capacity that I have given the disastrous attempt at the PhD. But this is something that requires the next two to four years to work out. Compared with some of my peers, I am actually doing alright, but compared to what this society is demanding, I think I can definitely do better, much much better. If mediocrity can earn undeserved credit, imagine what excellence can earn when done correctly!
Ah life. I'm always bitching about it. And now, something a little more hush-hush.
Abg gbb ybat ntb V gevrq gb pbagvahr n engure srroyr ebznapr gung ortna arneyl gjb lrnef ntb. Ohg nf nyjnlf jvgu erfcrpg gb znggref cregnvavat guvf gbcvp, vg snvyrq, ohg vg snvyrq va n irel vagrerfgvat fbeg bs jnl. Va fbzr frafr, V guvax gung V unir bognvarq fbzr engure inyhnoyr qngn ba zlfrys. Jvgubhg vafhygvat nalbar, yrg'f whfg fnl gung V unir ernyvfrq gung V pnaabg oevat zlfrys gb snyy va ybir jvgu fbzrbar vasrevbe va gur jnlf bs gur jbeyq. V fbeg bs oynzr guvf ba gur jubyr Wnar Nhfgra'f ``Cevqr naq Cerwhqvpr'' gung V jnf ernqvat qhevat gur crevbq, ohg gur qvfpbirel erznvaf gur fnzr. V pnaabg gbyrengr gneqvarff; vg naablf zr zhpu zber guna urnevat anvyf fpengpuvat npebff gur oynpxobneq. V gevrq gb bireybbx gung, V gevrq irel uneq. Ohg vg xrcg ba ohttvat zr. V pnaabg tb bhg jvgu fbzrbar jub vf qhzo naq ershfrf gb orggre urefrys, rira jura gur vffhr vf cbvagrq bhg ng cbvag-oynax. Gbb qnza rknfcrengvat. Naq V'z abg rira guvaxvat nobhg guvf sebz n frkhny crefcrpgvir -- gung vf jung nznmrf zr gur zbfg. Rvgure zl yvovqb vf qlvat/qrnq, be V unir gehyl ``zngherq'', jungrire gur uryy gung zrnaf. Va nal pnfr, V unir lrg nabgure qngn cbvag ba gur glcr bs crefba V jbhyq yvxr gb tb bhg jvgu. V guvax gur znagen bs abg snyyvat va ybir jvyy fgvyy freir zr jryy rira cbfg CuQ, naq V nz fgvyy xrrcvat zl zbhfgnpur jvgu zr; vg urycf xrrc gur syvtugl jbzra ng onl.
But I digress. Back to the whole sense of isolation. While I acknowledge it, I am still uncertain if I am wholly comfortable with it at this point -- the associated peace and quiet that I get is at times comforting. Since I am more free-spirited than those around me, I still can derive my own sort of pleasure in spite of all this. So maybe this isn't so bad after all.
Anyway, it is now apparent that I have reached stupid o'clock. I need to crash out now before I completely lose it. Till the next update then.
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