Yeah I copped out and did a couple of six-word flash fiction pieces, but they took a surprising amount of effort to pull off. I am sort of proud of the wordplay in the first piece, and the second one was a bit more icky. But I just felt like trying something new. Ultimately, I think I will stick with the usual types of prose we are used to, and so we'll be back to the regular programme tomorrow.
There is one thing that has been stuck in my head for the past few days that was literally trying to scream itself out loud (which explains this out-of-season post). The Streisand effect is a phenomenon that traditional power players don't seem to ``get'', a simplified description would be that the more one tries to silence a piece of information, the harder the information fights back by being even harder to silence. It is a side effect of the cheap replication powers of the World Wide Web.
News on the Web is like noise---there really isn't a significant difference between the two. News and noise are always generated and cooperate with burying each other through sheer volume. But when censorship is attempted on a piece of news, indignant information ``warriors'' will see it as a civic duty to point out the censorship attempt, hereby guaranteeing that attention would be drawn to an otherwise innocuous piece of information (no matter how damning it may be in context).
In short, it is almost never prudent to take the high-handed approach to any dispute, especially in this time of cheap information replication. The rebound will often be hard and fast, and will likely to make the original cease-and-desist step seem tame.
Thursday, May 22, 2014
Sunday, May 18, 2014
Singular
The chief disadvantage of striving for one's dreams and goals is that it tends to lead to being in a singular state. Now, being a rather singular person (or unique for those who are a little vocabulary challenged) means one thing: that the overlap of commonalities with fellow humans tends to be small, and in the extreme case, non-existent.
I had known for a long time that I was a ``unique'' type of person. There were a few contributory factors of course; my chronic skin allergies have made me look different from the norm for a long time, my general intellectual interests are often considered esoteric enough that to actually find a single person who shares a large enough overlap in interests is actually hard. And for that reason, I used to maintain several groups of non-overlapping friends, just to ensure that things don't get too complicated.
A decade ago, for reasons of economy, I tried to meld the groups together into a single group that is called ``friends of thelaptop''. Well, a decade has passed, and I can finally come to some interesting conclusions of the experiment.
It was a total failure.
People are weird. The notion that a person can be multi-facetted is something that is almost always foreign to them. It doesn't really help when there are facets that are also contradictory---for example to be both a decent musician while also being technically proficient in the cutting edge---it really confuses the hell out of them. It confuses them to the point that they summarily declare that one was ``too complicated, too singular'' and just ditch the entire relationship with the reason of being incomprehensible.
It took me too long to learn of this. Well, I knew about this before, and thought that somehow I could buck the odds and just cut my own path through life. Like many things facing insurmountable odds, it failed. In fact, at the end of the great combination exercise, I ended up with even fewer friends than before, not all of them actually getting closer to me.
In short, I ended up more isolated now than I was nearly ten years ago. Talk about a horrible surprise.
These days, I don't even bother to do anything more than just be passive about things. There is really no need to demonstrate anything about what I truly am to most people, and I have found that it is merely easier to just let others develop whatever crazy notions they have on me than to try and correct them. There is no polite or authorised way of correcting an adult human's perceptions; if there were, we would have much fewer political and economical issues already, since most of those come from some level of misconception and misperception.
The main side effect of this type of behaviour is that it drives me literally crazy. I always have a compelling need to correct misperceptions and misconceptions, and in general to talk a lot and to talk readily about almost any subject matter that I have some access to, just as a means of learning new perspectives and to gain additional knowledge that I don't already have. But to ensure at least a veneer of friendliness (and to cut back on the perceived arrogance), I have to play the passive game and shut the hell up. It's silly and annoying, but is proving to be a necessary game to play if I still want to have some form of interaction in society.
Last Friday evening, I went on an unplanned drinking session with Michael, his elder sister, and a fellow colleague. I wasn't really planning on drinking at all, but seeing that he was leaving soon and that I will be quickly out of a fellow crazy in the office, I capitulated and joined in. Apparently I haven't really lost my ability to drink, though the strange loss of spatial awareness had emerged itself once again when I knocked over an empty wine glass while gesticulating. I think something like that happened when I was drinking beer with Chris back in Pittsburgh at PHI, but that's a story that I haven't told here. I should probably keep a look out for such things the next time I drink again, which isn't going to happen in a long while I think. The bar that we went to was owned by his elder sister's friend, and was congenial in demeanour. I've tried my first single malt whiskey, and it was an interesting and intense flavour compared to say Jack Daniels, Jameson, or Johnny Walker. By the way, I'm on the look out for the best day to get Jim Beam so that I can finally get the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse, which I think is probably going to be the most intense cocktail that I will be having in a while, not counting the Graveyard. The company was fine, and I was pretty sure I creeped out his elder sister and the colleague a little, but that's to be expected. It's fun to play the role of the quiet unassuming geek---it gives people a stereotype to associate with. Besides, all the knowledge in the world is useless among people that one doesn't know well; arrogance is a label that can easily be slapped on to a stranger who just sounds like he/she knows too damn much.
Ah, what else is there to talk about here on my solitary soap box?
Oh, right. Facebook. So I've reactivated my account to upload some pictures from the recent trip to the US. Not much stuff since I'm not really a fan of the ``selfie'', but there were a few nice panoramic pictures that I built from shots I had taken. Even though I have reactivated my account, I am still exiling myself from it---the Signal-to-Noise-Ratio (SNR) is asymptotically near zero when compared to the other places where I get my news and information from. And it starts to get old very quickly when I see the two-hundredth baby picture. I mean, yes, I get it. You got married and have a baby. Congratulations. Now please stop spamming the hell out of everyone's feeds with pictures on your baby and saying how ``cute'' it is. That and the ``OMG marriage!'' pictures. And the ``OMG boyfriend/girlfriend get!'' pictures. We all get it. Things are going swimmingly well in your life. The rest of us boring singles are still single and without kids. Thanks for reminding us.
You know, I keep thinking that many people on Facebook have serious narcissism problems. They do things just so that they have a ``cool [picture] story'' to tell on Facebook. Like how cool they are, how well life is and what not. It's the worst kind of narcissism---it's the kind that irritates the hell of everyone who are not them. Then the reposters. Ugh. I don't even want to talk about it. And so yes, that's what I meant when I said the SNR is asymptotically near zero.
Yeah, I'm a grumpy old man now. With a moustache. And short hair. And bad skin. And terrible combination of interests. Who the hell would want someone like that?
I had known for a long time that I was a ``unique'' type of person. There were a few contributory factors of course; my chronic skin allergies have made me look different from the norm for a long time, my general intellectual interests are often considered esoteric enough that to actually find a single person who shares a large enough overlap in interests is actually hard. And for that reason, I used to maintain several groups of non-overlapping friends, just to ensure that things don't get too complicated.
A decade ago, for reasons of economy, I tried to meld the groups together into a single group that is called ``friends of thelaptop''. Well, a decade has passed, and I can finally come to some interesting conclusions of the experiment.
It was a total failure.
People are weird. The notion that a person can be multi-facetted is something that is almost always foreign to them. It doesn't really help when there are facets that are also contradictory---for example to be both a decent musician while also being technically proficient in the cutting edge---it really confuses the hell out of them. It confuses them to the point that they summarily declare that one was ``too complicated, too singular'' and just ditch the entire relationship with the reason of being incomprehensible.
It took me too long to learn of this. Well, I knew about this before, and thought that somehow I could buck the odds and just cut my own path through life. Like many things facing insurmountable odds, it failed. In fact, at the end of the great combination exercise, I ended up with even fewer friends than before, not all of them actually getting closer to me.
In short, I ended up more isolated now than I was nearly ten years ago. Talk about a horrible surprise.
These days, I don't even bother to do anything more than just be passive about things. There is really no need to demonstrate anything about what I truly am to most people, and I have found that it is merely easier to just let others develop whatever crazy notions they have on me than to try and correct them. There is no polite or authorised way of correcting an adult human's perceptions; if there were, we would have much fewer political and economical issues already, since most of those come from some level of misconception and misperception.
The main side effect of this type of behaviour is that it drives me literally crazy. I always have a compelling need to correct misperceptions and misconceptions, and in general to talk a lot and to talk readily about almost any subject matter that I have some access to, just as a means of learning new perspectives and to gain additional knowledge that I don't already have. But to ensure at least a veneer of friendliness (and to cut back on the perceived arrogance), I have to play the passive game and shut the hell up. It's silly and annoying, but is proving to be a necessary game to play if I still want to have some form of interaction in society.
Last Friday evening, I went on an unplanned drinking session with Michael, his elder sister, and a fellow colleague. I wasn't really planning on drinking at all, but seeing that he was leaving soon and that I will be quickly out of a fellow crazy in the office, I capitulated and joined in. Apparently I haven't really lost my ability to drink, though the strange loss of spatial awareness had emerged itself once again when I knocked over an empty wine glass while gesticulating. I think something like that happened when I was drinking beer with Chris back in Pittsburgh at PHI, but that's a story that I haven't told here. I should probably keep a look out for such things the next time I drink again, which isn't going to happen in a long while I think. The bar that we went to was owned by his elder sister's friend, and was congenial in demeanour. I've tried my first single malt whiskey, and it was an interesting and intense flavour compared to say Jack Daniels, Jameson, or Johnny Walker. By the way, I'm on the look out for the best day to get Jim Beam so that I can finally get the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse, which I think is probably going to be the most intense cocktail that I will be having in a while, not counting the Graveyard. The company was fine, and I was pretty sure I creeped out his elder sister and the colleague a little, but that's to be expected. It's fun to play the role of the quiet unassuming geek---it gives people a stereotype to associate with. Besides, all the knowledge in the world is useless among people that one doesn't know well; arrogance is a label that can easily be slapped on to a stranger who just sounds like he/she knows too damn much.
Ah, what else is there to talk about here on my solitary soap box?
Oh, right. Facebook. So I've reactivated my account to upload some pictures from the recent trip to the US. Not much stuff since I'm not really a fan of the ``selfie'', but there were a few nice panoramic pictures that I built from shots I had taken. Even though I have reactivated my account, I am still exiling myself from it---the Signal-to-Noise-Ratio (SNR) is asymptotically near zero when compared to the other places where I get my news and information from. And it starts to get old very quickly when I see the two-hundredth baby picture. I mean, yes, I get it. You got married and have a baby. Congratulations. Now please stop spamming the hell out of everyone's feeds with pictures on your baby and saying how ``cute'' it is. That and the ``OMG marriage!'' pictures. And the ``OMG boyfriend/girlfriend get!'' pictures. We all get it. Things are going swimmingly well in your life. The rest of us boring singles are still single and without kids. Thanks for reminding us.
You know, I keep thinking that many people on Facebook have serious narcissism problems. They do things just so that they have a ``cool [picture] story'' to tell on Facebook. Like how cool they are, how well life is and what not. It's the worst kind of narcissism---it's the kind that irritates the hell of everyone who are not them. Then the reposters. Ugh. I don't even want to talk about it. And so yes, that's what I meant when I said the SNR is asymptotically near zero.
Yeah, I'm a grumpy old man now. With a moustache. And short hair. And bad skin. And terrible combination of interests. Who the hell would want someone like that?
Wednesday, May 07, 2014
I Hope This Makes Up For It
I suppose I really should apologise for not having an entry prepared at the natural fortnight mark, but I won't. I'm not trying to be pompous or heaven forbid to ``act cute'', but I have a very good reason why there wasn't an entry prior to this one.
I was on holiday.
Yes, I shocked even myself. To think that I would break away from actual work for nearly two-ish weeks and to get away, and not to any place but back to America, that is something I wouldn't have ever thought I would have done back in the day.
But in a way, I had to. There was no choice about it whatsoever.
It was the last chance to visit Pittsburgh (and pick up some geocaches) before everyone that I know there is completely gone. It was [probably] the last chance I would visit Champaign-Urbana to come to a better understanding of where things stand between she and I, and more importantly, to meet up with my friends before they leave for San Francisco. It was a time to avenge the lack of running at the 10km race last year when I broke my hallux.
At this point though, I am just jet-lagged and want nothing more than to sleep deeply for a few more hours. I probably should have been less stingy with my leave and applied for another two or three more days just to stay at home to sleep and fight jet-lag.
I should probably write more, particularly about events that happened during my trip to the US, but those have been consigned to the diary already, and I don't want to rehash them here. All I can say is, I hope that the trip I made and the awkward conversations I had with her weren't in vain. If that were true, I would be a pretty sad person.
I could have written an entry earlier, but I had to content with myself playing the transcription and catch-up game for my story-[fragment]-a-day challenge. Around 15+ story fragments were written while I was out in the US, mostly done while on planes and on the train. Only a couple were written while I was in the apartment of my friends. There was still a shortfall of nearly 8 more stories, and those I had to cobble together over the past few days. I am happy to announce that as at now, I am again on schedule for the stories. The 15+ story fragments were written on a stenographer's pad, two lines to a ruled line, which worked out to be around 400+ words per side. That was a nice number for a story fragment, and I suppose I had written so many of these by hand that I have started to write at a ``natural'' 400-ish words per sitting.
And now, I shall collapse to sleep. Maybe when I'm feeling better I will write a more complete entry.
I was on holiday.
Yes, I shocked even myself. To think that I would break away from actual work for nearly two-ish weeks and to get away, and not to any place but back to America, that is something I wouldn't have ever thought I would have done back in the day.
But in a way, I had to. There was no choice about it whatsoever.
It was the last chance to visit Pittsburgh (and pick up some geocaches) before everyone that I know there is completely gone. It was [probably] the last chance I would visit Champaign-Urbana to come to a better understanding of where things stand between she and I, and more importantly, to meet up with my friends before they leave for San Francisco. It was a time to avenge the lack of running at the 10km race last year when I broke my hallux.
At this point though, I am just jet-lagged and want nothing more than to sleep deeply for a few more hours. I probably should have been less stingy with my leave and applied for another two or three more days just to stay at home to sleep and fight jet-lag.
I should probably write more, particularly about events that happened during my trip to the US, but those have been consigned to the diary already, and I don't want to rehash them here. All I can say is, I hope that the trip I made and the awkward conversations I had with her weren't in vain. If that were true, I would be a pretty sad person.
I could have written an entry earlier, but I had to content with myself playing the transcription and catch-up game for my story-[fragment]-a-day challenge. Around 15+ story fragments were written while I was out in the US, mostly done while on planes and on the train. Only a couple were written while I was in the apartment of my friends. There was still a shortfall of nearly 8 more stories, and those I had to cobble together over the past few days. I am happy to announce that as at now, I am again on schedule for the stories. The 15+ story fragments were written on a stenographer's pad, two lines to a ruled line, which worked out to be around 400+ words per side. That was a nice number for a story fragment, and I suppose I had written so many of these by hand that I have started to write at a ``natural'' 400-ish words per sitting.
And now, I shall collapse to sleep. Maybe when I'm feeling better I will write a more complete entry.
Wednesday, March 26, 2014
So?
Not a fan of pseudo open talk. But I don't really want this to be that easily read, so bear with me.
V nz fgnegvat gb svaq vg vafhssrenoyr gb yvir urer ng gvzrf. Znal gvzrf jura V ybbx nobhg zr, V frr uhfxf bs sbezre uhznaf, nyy rvgure gelvat gurve uneqrfg gb nccrne gb or jryy-nqwhfgrq, be gelvat gb chg qbja bguref gb znxr gurzfryirf srry jryy-nqwhfgrq. Abj, zber guna rire, abguvat vf rire jung vg frrzf, naq nyy gur cergrafr bs n fbpvrgl zbivat ba jryy vf whfg anhfrngvat.
Gur qnvyl tevaq sbe zr vf whfg gung, n qnvyl tevaq. Jnxr hc, gnxr gur ohf gb jbex, jbex, erghea ubzr, fyrrc; evafr naq ercrng. Gurer vf nyzbfg ab erny ernfba jul V fubhyq rira or qbvat nyy gurfr nal zber, be fb vg jbhyq frrz. V unir gubhtug gung V jbhyq unir n tbbq punapr gb svanyyl or jvgu n tvey V yvxr n jubyr ohapu, ohg bhe eryngviryl ybj yriry bs pbzzhavpngvba abj vf znxvat zr srry artyrpgrq naq fbzrjung hajnagrq, nf gubhtu V jrer whfg znxvat hc gur jubyr fgbel va zl zvaq. V pnaabg gryy vs vg'f whfg n frnfbany inevngvba, n trahvar ybfg bs gur grahbhf pbaarpgvba, be fbzrguvat ryfr nygbtrgure.
Znlor V unq orra yvivat va n frys-perngrq ohooyr nyy gurfr juvyr.
V jnf gnyxvat jvgu n sevraq bire n Thvaarff erpragyl, naq juvyr V'z abg fher vs fur jnf gelvat gb or gebyy-l be urycshy, ohg fur qvq znantr gb tvir zr gur cebireovny xvpx va gur onyyf. V srry nf gubhtu V unir fhqqrayl njnxrarq sebz n pbagragrq qernz fpncr naq nz abj va n yvzob-yvxr avtugzner. Fhqqrayl V srry guvatf ner yrff pregnva guna orsber, rira gubhtu gurer unfa'g npghnyyl orra nal punatr orsber naq nsgre gur pbairefngvba jvgu zl sevraq.
V'z va gur zvqqyr bs ernqvat Tbar jvgu gur Jvaq, naq V'z cerggl fher vg unfa'g qbar nalguvat tbbq jvgu erfcrpg gb guvf engure bqq rzbgvbany fgngr V'z va. Vg uvtuyvtugf gur vffhrf bs ybir naq eryngvbafuvcf, naq gur abgvba bs uneqfuvc, naq ubj Fbhgurea pbafreingvir frafvovyvgvrf ner bsgra ng bqqf jvgu gur centzngvfz eryngrq gb fheiviny. Vg znqr zr dhrfgvba znal guvatf. Zl sevraq jnf naablrq ng zl veerirerapr bire n pbzzrag, juvpu fbzrubj rkgraqrq gb zl veerirerapr gb gur zhygvghqrf bs yvsr, naq abj, V unir orra genafcbegrq onpx gb zl hfhny fgngr bs orvat zbebfr.
Guvf gevc onpx gb gur HF vf fgnegvat gb or fbzrguvat gb or srnerq engure guna fbzrguvat gb ybbx sbejneq gb. V nz fgnegvat gb qbhog znal guvatf, naq jbaqrevat vs V nz vaqrrq qbvat gur evtug guvat ol vtabevat nyy gur cebonovyvgl naq fgngvfgvpny pregnvagl bs ubj guvatf jvyy cna bhg naq cynpvat zl ragver urneg naq fbhy vagb gur yvggyr guvat pnyyrq ubcr gung unf orra zl qbjasnyy sbe gur cnfg srj lrnef.
Gunax lbh, sevraq. Lbh unir fhpprffshyyl oebhtug zr onpx gb gur jbeyq bs qnexre tenlf, jurer gurer vf yvggyr yvtug gb or frra. V'z abg fher vs lbh vagraqrq gb qb gung, ohg lbh unir fhpprrqrq. Xhqbf. V qba'g guvax V jvyy jnag gb gnyx jvgu lbh sbe n ybat, ybat gvzr gb pbzr.
Crbcyr ner jrveq. Rirelbar yvxrf gb guvax bs gurve ceboyrzf naq bayl gurve ceboyrzf. V thrff V'z abg gung qvssrerag rvgure. Hxenvar vf univat n uryyhin fbirervtagl zrff, naq bs pbhefr gurer vf gur jubyr Znynlfvna nveyvar penfu gung rirelbar vf serggvat bire naq cbvagvat svatref naq rkpunatvat ybhq naq unefu jbeqf. Naq V'z urer jbeevrq naq zbbql nobhg zl yvggyr qernz gung jvyy cebonoyl zrrg gur unefuarff bs ernyvgl naq gnxr n uvxr.
Naq V'z guvaxvat bs rkgraqvat gung fnoongvpny sebz Snprobbx vaqrsvavgryl. Gurer ernyyl frrzf gb or yvggyr ernfba gb trg onpx ba gung jntba, rfcrpvnyyl abj. Gurer ner srj crbcyr gurer gung V jnag gb pbagvahr gb xrrc va pbagnpg, naq gubfr jubz V jvfu gb xrrc va pbagnpg jvgu, jryy, fbzr bs gurz whfg qba'g tvir n qnza nal zber. Fb V fnl, rabhtu. Ab zber Snprobbx. V'q yvirq jvgubhg vg onpx va 2006, V pna qb vg abj. Naq vg'f abg yvxr V hfr Snprobbx sbe nalguvat hfrshy naljnl; V'z cnfg gur ren jurer gurer jrer riragf naq jung-abg gung jrer ubfgrq ba Snprobbx gung arrqrq pbbeqvangvba gb tb gb.
Znlor V'z rzoenpvat rfpncvfz gb n jubyr arj yriry. Erxvaqyvat zl ybir bs ernqvat svpgvba unf nyfb cebivqrq n arj ernyz bs ergerng sbe zr, n fnapghnel gung V pna fnsryl erghea gb naq uvqr njnl sebz gur erfg bs gur pehry jbeyq nf vg oheaf gb nfurf nebhaq zr. Be znlor gurer'f whfg fbzrguvat bqq va gur nve gung vf xvyyvat zr rire fb fbsgyl gung V'z whfg gelvat gb uvqr njnl sebz.
Jub xabjf?
V nz fgnegvat gb svaq vg vafhssrenoyr gb yvir urer ng gvzrf. Znal gvzrf jura V ybbx nobhg zr, V frr uhfxf bs sbezre uhznaf, nyy rvgure gelvat gurve uneqrfg gb nccrne gb or jryy-nqwhfgrq, be gelvat gb chg qbja bguref gb znxr gurzfryirf srry jryy-nqwhfgrq. Abj, zber guna rire, abguvat vf rire jung vg frrzf, naq nyy gur cergrafr bs n fbpvrgl zbivat ba jryy vf whfg anhfrngvat.
Gur qnvyl tevaq sbe zr vf whfg gung, n qnvyl tevaq. Jnxr hc, gnxr gur ohf gb jbex, jbex, erghea ubzr, fyrrc; evafr naq ercrng. Gurer vf nyzbfg ab erny ernfba jul V fubhyq rira or qbvat nyy gurfr nal zber, be fb vg jbhyq frrz. V unir gubhtug gung V jbhyq unir n tbbq punapr gb svanyyl or jvgu n tvey V yvxr n jubyr ohapu, ohg bhe eryngviryl ybj yriry bs pbzzhavpngvba abj vf znxvat zr srry artyrpgrq naq fbzrjung hajnagrq, nf gubhtu V jrer whfg znxvat hc gur jubyr fgbel va zl zvaq. V pnaabg gryy vs vg'f whfg n frnfbany inevngvba, n trahvar ybfg bs gur grahbhf pbaarpgvba, be fbzrguvat ryfr nygbtrgure.
Znlor V unq orra yvivat va n frys-perngrq ohooyr nyy gurfr juvyr.
V jnf gnyxvat jvgu n sevraq bire n Thvaarff erpragyl, naq juvyr V'z abg fher vs fur jnf gelvat gb or gebyy-l be urycshy, ohg fur qvq znantr gb tvir zr gur cebireovny xvpx va gur onyyf. V srry nf gubhtu V unir fhqqrayl njnxrarq sebz n pbagragrq qernz fpncr naq nz abj va n yvzob-yvxr avtugzner. Fhqqrayl V srry guvatf ner yrff pregnva guna orsber, rira gubhtu gurer unfa'g npghnyyl orra nal punatr orsber naq nsgre gur pbairefngvba jvgu zl sevraq.
V'z va gur zvqqyr bs ernqvat Tbar jvgu gur Jvaq, naq V'z cerggl fher vg unfa'g qbar nalguvat tbbq jvgu erfcrpg gb guvf engure bqq rzbgvbany fgngr V'z va. Vg uvtuyvtugf gur vffhrf bs ybir naq eryngvbafuvcf, naq gur abgvba bs uneqfuvc, naq ubj Fbhgurea pbafreingvir frafvovyvgvrf ner bsgra ng bqqf jvgu gur centzngvfz eryngrq gb fheiviny. Vg znqr zr dhrfgvba znal guvatf. Zl sevraq jnf naablrq ng zl veerirerapr bire n pbzzrag, juvpu fbzrubj rkgraqrq gb zl veerirerapr gb gur zhygvghqrf bs yvsr, naq abj, V unir orra genafcbegrq onpx gb zl hfhny fgngr bs orvat zbebfr.
Guvf gevc onpx gb gur HF vf fgnegvat gb or fbzrguvat gb or srnerq engure guna fbzrguvat gb ybbx sbejneq gb. V nz fgnegvat gb qbhog znal guvatf, naq jbaqrevat vs V nz vaqrrq qbvat gur evtug guvat ol vtabevat nyy gur cebonovyvgl naq fgngvfgvpny pregnvagl bs ubj guvatf jvyy cna bhg naq cynpvat zl ragver urneg naq fbhy vagb gur yvggyr guvat pnyyrq ubcr gung unf orra zl qbjasnyy sbe gur cnfg srj lrnef.
Gunax lbh, sevraq. Lbh unir fhpprffshyyl oebhtug zr onpx gb gur jbeyq bs qnexre tenlf, jurer gurer vf yvggyr yvtug gb or frra. V'z abg fher vs lbh vagraqrq gb qb gung, ohg lbh unir fhpprrqrq. Xhqbf. V qba'g guvax V jvyy jnag gb gnyx jvgu lbh sbe n ybat, ybat gvzr gb pbzr.
Crbcyr ner jrveq. Rirelbar yvxrf gb guvax bs gurve ceboyrzf naq bayl gurve ceboyrzf. V thrff V'z abg gung qvssrerag rvgure. Hxenvar vf univat n uryyhin fbirervtagl zrff, naq bs pbhefr gurer vf gur jubyr Znynlfvna nveyvar penfu gung rirelbar vf serggvat bire naq cbvagvat svatref naq rkpunatvat ybhq naq unefu jbeqf. Naq V'z urer jbeevrq naq zbbql nobhg zl yvggyr qernz gung jvyy cebonoyl zrrg gur unefuarff bs ernyvgl naq gnxr n uvxr.
Naq V'z guvaxvat bs rkgraqvat gung fnoongvpny sebz Snprobbx vaqrsvavgryl. Gurer ernyyl frrzf gb or yvggyr ernfba gb trg onpx ba gung jntba, rfcrpvnyyl abj. Gurer ner srj crbcyr gurer gung V jnag gb pbagvahr gb xrrc va pbagnpg, naq gubfr jubz V jvfu gb xrrc va pbagnpg jvgu, jryy, fbzr bs gurz whfg qba'g tvir n qnza nal zber. Fb V fnl, rabhtu. Ab zber Snprobbx. V'q yvirq jvgubhg vg onpx va 2006, V pna qb vg abj. Naq vg'f abg yvxr V hfr Snprobbx sbe nalguvat hfrshy naljnl; V'z cnfg gur ren jurer gurer jrer riragf naq jung-abg gung jrer ubfgrq ba Snprobbx gung arrqrq pbbeqvangvba gb tb gb.
Znlor V'z rzoenpvat rfpncvfz gb n jubyr arj yriry. Erxvaqyvat zl ybir bs ernqvat svpgvba unf nyfb cebivqrq n arj ernyz bs ergerng sbe zr, n fnapghnel gung V pna fnsryl erghea gb naq uvqr njnl sebz gur erfg bs gur pehry jbeyq nf vg oheaf gb nfurf nebhaq zr. Be znlor gurer'f whfg fbzrguvat bqq va gur nve gung vf xvyyvat zr rire fb fbsgyl gung V'z whfg gelvat gb uvqr njnl sebz.
Jub xabjf?
Tuesday, March 11, 2014
So much drivel...
Yet another long overdue update. I swear that fortnights pass so quickly and silently that I don't realise that they have passed me by till they have actually done so. Several odd things have happened, so let me try to put some sense into some of them by laying out some perspective or something to that effect.
First off, something fantastically funny. Twitch Plays Pokemon (TPP) (associated reddit topic here) is a hilarious anarchistic game play of the Pokemon RPG. The quality of the stream isn't from the content of the game (unlike say any of the Games Done Quick marathon sessions), but from the meta-content. By meta-content, I mean of course the fan-generated lore and commentary on the things that everyone is witnessing. I follow the stream semi-religiously, reading mostly the commentary rather than actually watching the chaos that is happening as the thousands of people mash keys into the emulator over IRC. The best part was that the motley crew actually managed to defeat the Pokemon Red game after around two-ish weeks or something. Considering the amount of coordination (or lack thereof partly due to trolls, and partly due to stream lags), it's a miracle of some sort. And as I'm writing now, they are on to the next game in the series, Pokemon Crystal. And in roughly half the time, they are now attacking the Elite Four once again, which can be loosely said as being the halfway point of the game in one sense and ``completion'' in another (the ``real'' final boss-character is Red from the previous game). Now it remains to be seen of the Red character has the same pokemon that the TPP stream was using---there was a request for this to be hacked into the ROM, but there has been no indication if this was done.
Second, anything I've said before about feeling/knowing that one is an adult is moot given the new situation that I now present. One feels that one has stepped irreversibly into adulthood when one's parents are starting the serious matter of handling their funeral arrangements. Nothing gets one into the ``grown-up'' mood quicker than planning around one's parents' mortality. It wasn't macabre or depressing in the least, but there were some sombre moments during that discussion. I now know what my parent would like me to do when they have passed on, and that knowledge has deepened an aspect of my character that I don't really know how to relate in a semi-public avenue such as this blog. I don't think I have even managed to phrase it comfortably into something that I write into my diary. Maybe I will have a good enough description for it in time to come.
Third, this drought and hazy weather condition is driving me absolutely insane. I can no longer train outdoors for my 10-km run safely---the PM2.5 concentration is bordering on being dangerous especially for vigorous activities like long distance running. Already my eyes and nose are suffering---lots of scleritis and rhinitis reactions. I think my lungs have diminished capacity as well from having to deal with the particulates in the air---when playing the 笛子 for my solo during the rehearsal from last Saturday, I found that I couldn't hold my air flow strong enough to cover the 8-beat/16-beat phrases. It sucked because I felt very stuffy and heavy-lunged, and the emergency breath pauses totally screwed up the phrasing, making the entire piece sound very sub-standard. At least I'm not hit with bronchitis for now, and I think I will have to keep physical exertions to a minimum to avoid destroying my lungs too much. This weather condition is getting rather stupid---isn't the hot season supposedly between the months of May and July? If so, why are we facing horrible conditions now?
Fourth, I find that my tolerance for general incompetence and irreverence to have dropped quite significantly between last year and this. There were a couple of times on the bus where I found myself irritated when some irresponsible bugger decided to keep the sound for their smartphone game on a high volume and keep performing actions that triggered that high-pitched arpeggio albeit in non-regular intervals, which made it hard to ignore. The temptation to stand up, turn around, and yell at the guy to shut it was so high, yet I think the repressive behavioural traits that has been inculcated in me since young are still at work and I just passively tried to avoid it by stuffing my ears with my active noise-cancellers and listen to something from whatever my Rock-boxed iPod have. At least incompetence isn't something that I have to deal with at work, which is a good thing. Oh, some other commuters tried to elbow their way through me while getting off the cramped transport while I was actively giving way, they ended up eating a whole bunch of aiki when I just sunk deeper to hold out against them. It made me happy and them pissed, but I don't care.
Fifth, the Android PDF readers from Adobe and FoxIt died when I tried to read the translated epic of The Thousand Nights and a Night by Burton. It wasn't anything too fancy, at the physical page location of 200+ on volume one, it just caused the PDF readers to crash. I got pissed off trying to get it to work until I realised that the PDFs were basically scanned pages. Using the all-powerful ImageMagick, I extracted and converted the PDF files into corresponding Comic Book Archive format (a CBR file to be specific, because why not):
Sixth, in the view of intolerance, I have started on yet another period of non-Facebook usage. This time, I'm targetting at least two months, so between now and say June-ish I will not be accessing my Facebook account. It has been deactivated, and should anyone need to contact me, well, they should know how. I have a cellphone number that hasn't changed for ten years, email accounts, and even doing a simple search for me on the 'net with Google reveals enough contact information that it becomes an unacceptable excuse for anyone who needs to find me claiming that there was no way of doing so.
Alright, it's getting late, and the haze is making me more tired than usual. Time to crash out, and hopefully the next update won't be as late.
First off, something fantastically funny. Twitch Plays Pokemon (TPP) (associated reddit topic here) is a hilarious anarchistic game play of the Pokemon RPG. The quality of the stream isn't from the content of the game (unlike say any of the Games Done Quick marathon sessions), but from the meta-content. By meta-content, I mean of course the fan-generated lore and commentary on the things that everyone is witnessing. I follow the stream semi-religiously, reading mostly the commentary rather than actually watching the chaos that is happening as the thousands of people mash keys into the emulator over IRC. The best part was that the motley crew actually managed to defeat the Pokemon Red game after around two-ish weeks or something. Considering the amount of coordination (or lack thereof partly due to trolls, and partly due to stream lags), it's a miracle of some sort. And as I'm writing now, they are on to the next game in the series, Pokemon Crystal. And in roughly half the time, they are now attacking the Elite Four once again, which can be loosely said as being the halfway point of the game in one sense and ``completion'' in another (the ``real'' final boss-character is Red from the previous game). Now it remains to be seen of the Red character has the same pokemon that the TPP stream was using---there was a request for this to be hacked into the ROM, but there has been no indication if this was done.
Second, anything I've said before about feeling/knowing that one is an adult is moot given the new situation that I now present. One feels that one has stepped irreversibly into adulthood when one's parents are starting the serious matter of handling their funeral arrangements. Nothing gets one into the ``grown-up'' mood quicker than planning around one's parents' mortality. It wasn't macabre or depressing in the least, but there were some sombre moments during that discussion. I now know what my parent would like me to do when they have passed on, and that knowledge has deepened an aspect of my character that I don't really know how to relate in a semi-public avenue such as this blog. I don't think I have even managed to phrase it comfortably into something that I write into my diary. Maybe I will have a good enough description for it in time to come.
Third, this drought and hazy weather condition is driving me absolutely insane. I can no longer train outdoors for my 10-km run safely---the PM2.5 concentration is bordering on being dangerous especially for vigorous activities like long distance running. Already my eyes and nose are suffering---lots of scleritis and rhinitis reactions. I think my lungs have diminished capacity as well from having to deal with the particulates in the air---when playing the 笛子 for my solo during the rehearsal from last Saturday, I found that I couldn't hold my air flow strong enough to cover the 8-beat/16-beat phrases. It sucked because I felt very stuffy and heavy-lunged, and the emergency breath pauses totally screwed up the phrasing, making the entire piece sound very sub-standard. At least I'm not hit with bronchitis for now, and I think I will have to keep physical exertions to a minimum to avoid destroying my lungs too much. This weather condition is getting rather stupid---isn't the hot season supposedly between the months of May and July? If so, why are we facing horrible conditions now?
Fourth, I find that my tolerance for general incompetence and irreverence to have dropped quite significantly between last year and this. There were a couple of times on the bus where I found myself irritated when some irresponsible bugger decided to keep the sound for their smartphone game on a high volume and keep performing actions that triggered that high-pitched arpeggio albeit in non-regular intervals, which made it hard to ignore. The temptation to stand up, turn around, and yell at the guy to shut it was so high, yet I think the repressive behavioural traits that has been inculcated in me since young are still at work and I just passively tried to avoid it by stuffing my ears with my active noise-cancellers and listen to something from whatever my Rock-boxed iPod have. At least incompetence isn't something that I have to deal with at work, which is a good thing. Oh, some other commuters tried to elbow their way through me while getting off the cramped transport while I was actively giving way, they ended up eating a whole bunch of aiki when I just sunk deeper to hold out against them. It made me happy and them pissed, but I don't care.
Fifth, the Android PDF readers from Adobe and FoxIt died when I tried to read the translated epic of The Thousand Nights and a Night by Burton. It wasn't anything too fancy, at the physical page location of 200+ on volume one, it just caused the PDF readers to crash. I got pissed off trying to get it to work until I realised that the PDFs were basically scanned pages. Using the all-powerful ImageMagick, I extracted and converted the PDF files into corresponding Comic Book Archive format (a CBR file to be specific, because why not):
convert -density 300 -strip -interlace Plane -quality "30%" -filter Lanczos -resize 800x "pdf01.pdf" "pdf01/pdf01_img.jpg"rar a -m5 -ma4 "pdf01.cbr" "pdf01"
rename command---it allows the use of regular expressions to specify how to transform the file names. I made use of it to force zero padding on the extracted JPEG images from the PDF---ImageMagick doesn't do that. In principle, there was no problem, but I liked things to be zero-padded and therefore making a stronger guarantee on the order when listed lexicographically. The newly assembled CBR is then read with Perfect Viewer, easily the best Comic Book Archive format viewer, on both my phone and tablet. No crashes so far, and I doubt any will be forthcoming.Sixth, in the view of intolerance, I have started on yet another period of non-Facebook usage. This time, I'm targetting at least two months, so between now and say June-ish I will not be accessing my Facebook account. It has been deactivated, and should anyone need to contact me, well, they should know how. I have a cellphone number that hasn't changed for ten years, email accounts, and even doing a simple search for me on the 'net with Google reveals enough contact information that it becomes an unacceptable excuse for anyone who needs to find me claiming that there was no way of doing so.
Alright, it's getting late, and the haze is making me more tired than usual. Time to crash out, and hopefully the next update won't be as late.
Friday, February 21, 2014
Duplicity
Okay, I think I maaay be a little late in the promised per fortnightly entry. But here it is, and I hope that this makes up for it.
------
I had been spending time reading Les Misérables by Victor Hugo, not the French version of course but an English translation. And the main comment that I can make is: wow. The main storyline is relatively straightforward with the focus being on Jean Valjean, and the over-arching theme about how class often triumphs nurture, no matter how much has one done to make amends for the crimes that one makes. It's a touching story, especially when you consider the sacrifices that Jean Valjean had made to ensure the future of Cosette, a person who was at best someone he adopted.
But what sets Les Mis apart from other fiction that I had been reading is the large inserts of historical information. Things like the Battle of Waterloo, the political philosophy of the revolutionists, and even the Parisian sewers all made their way into the tome to fluff it up to the nine-hundred page brick it is. I can't write like that; my knowledge just isn't encylopaedic enough. In fact, I'm sure when people said that one could learn a lot of general knowledge from reading they were referring to Les Mis.
I'm sure many have deconstructed the story enough that I won't even attempt to do so here. It is a good book to dive into, but be forewarned, it will take a bit of time to go through it.
In other news, I have tried to re-start my running training programme once again. The last time I started on this, the haze got in the way and I couldn't continue. This time though, I could keep up with it, mostly, until this week when my body started to give out on me from fatigue. The problem with the training programme is that it requires a very specific sleeping and waking schedule, which for most purposes is just brutal to keep up. I can't run in the afternoon, and evenings are terrible for running due to general tiredness and heat, which leaves only the morning. But I take the bus to work in the morning, which means that I need to wake up early. To run, then, would require me waking up even earlier, and to ensure that I have enough sleep, I will have to sleep earlier still.
The long and short of it is that I need to sleep by 2200hrs each night and wake up at 0500hrs each morning. This is bad because I only reach home at 1900hrs at my fastest due to the amazingly [in]efficient transport system. Even driving doesn't help because of the massive jams on all the roads that lead to my home.
I guess it's no wonder that my body decided that enough was enough and shut down on Wednesday, forcing me to take a sick day to rest up.
The haze is fast coming back too. I just hope that I can survive through that.
On another front, I think that I am more isolated than ever now. Janet's been busy with lab, and so isn't talking with me online that often---I miss her enough. The other people that I used to chat online on a regular basis have long since gone on to other pursuits and are thus less available as well. And don't let me get started on the people who are physically near me---there are too few of them left. And the artificial groupings that are thrust into my face are not helping much---dinner and dance, and the ugh faux social group for scholars. I take offense to such artifice. I may have studied on a scholarship or two, but I never felt like I was ``one of them'' scholars. If anything, I feel like a schmuck. I think this might be due to my general distaste for the Machiavellian conduct that many of these people practise---narcisstic self-serving sadists most of them are. Or maybe I'm just bitter I don't have a PhD and am sick of having to explain myself to a bunch of people who never saw defeat and failure in the face. Each time any of these people try to reach out to me, instead of feeling camaraderie, I sense them as just pitying me and just trying to be nice. I don't like it when people act that way. Duplicity is the key to all complications and if I can reduce the amount I have to deal with, the better.
I like people who see what I see, rather than try to see how I look. To look at me for what I am, and not for what I appear to be. Maybe my cynicism has gone too far, or maybe it hasn't gone far enough; I'll leave it to society to judge. Meanwhile I'll just carry on what I've been doing so far, building systems, reading voraciously, and writing a whole lot more.
Till the next update, and sorry for the rambling angsty post.
------
I had been spending time reading Les Misérables by Victor Hugo, not the French version of course but an English translation. And the main comment that I can make is: wow. The main storyline is relatively straightforward with the focus being on Jean Valjean, and the over-arching theme about how class often triumphs nurture, no matter how much has one done to make amends for the crimes that one makes. It's a touching story, especially when you consider the sacrifices that Jean Valjean had made to ensure the future of Cosette, a person who was at best someone he adopted.
But what sets Les Mis apart from other fiction that I had been reading is the large inserts of historical information. Things like the Battle of Waterloo, the political philosophy of the revolutionists, and even the Parisian sewers all made their way into the tome to fluff it up to the nine-hundred page brick it is. I can't write like that; my knowledge just isn't encylopaedic enough. In fact, I'm sure when people said that one could learn a lot of general knowledge from reading they were referring to Les Mis.
I'm sure many have deconstructed the story enough that I won't even attempt to do so here. It is a good book to dive into, but be forewarned, it will take a bit of time to go through it.
In other news, I have tried to re-start my running training programme once again. The last time I started on this, the haze got in the way and I couldn't continue. This time though, I could keep up with it, mostly, until this week when my body started to give out on me from fatigue. The problem with the training programme is that it requires a very specific sleeping and waking schedule, which for most purposes is just brutal to keep up. I can't run in the afternoon, and evenings are terrible for running due to general tiredness and heat, which leaves only the morning. But I take the bus to work in the morning, which means that I need to wake up early. To run, then, would require me waking up even earlier, and to ensure that I have enough sleep, I will have to sleep earlier still.
The long and short of it is that I need to sleep by 2200hrs each night and wake up at 0500hrs each morning. This is bad because I only reach home at 1900hrs at my fastest due to the amazingly [in]efficient transport system. Even driving doesn't help because of the massive jams on all the roads that lead to my home.
I guess it's no wonder that my body decided that enough was enough and shut down on Wednesday, forcing me to take a sick day to rest up.
The haze is fast coming back too. I just hope that I can survive through that.
On another front, I think that I am more isolated than ever now. Janet's been busy with lab, and so isn't talking with me online that often---I miss her enough. The other people that I used to chat online on a regular basis have long since gone on to other pursuits and are thus less available as well. And don't let me get started on the people who are physically near me---there are too few of them left. And the artificial groupings that are thrust into my face are not helping much---dinner and dance, and the ugh faux social group for scholars. I take offense to such artifice. I may have studied on a scholarship or two, but I never felt like I was ``one of them'' scholars. If anything, I feel like a schmuck. I think this might be due to my general distaste for the Machiavellian conduct that many of these people practise---narcisstic self-serving sadists most of them are. Or maybe I'm just bitter I don't have a PhD and am sick of having to explain myself to a bunch of people who never saw defeat and failure in the face. Each time any of these people try to reach out to me, instead of feeling camaraderie, I sense them as just pitying me and just trying to be nice. I don't like it when people act that way. Duplicity is the key to all complications and if I can reduce the amount I have to deal with, the better.
I like people who see what I see, rather than try to see how I look. To look at me for what I am, and not for what I appear to be. Maybe my cynicism has gone too far, or maybe it hasn't gone far enough; I'll leave it to society to judge. Meanwhile I'll just carry on what I've been doing so far, building systems, reading voraciously, and writing a whole lot more.
Till the next update, and sorry for the rambling angsty post.
Thursday, February 06, 2014
On Ignorance
Okay, time for a rant. First, read this (this is around 5 web pages long and will therefore take a fair bit of time, props to Janet for pointing this story out to me). Now, read what I have to say about the article.
The article makes me angry. It makes me angry in a way that is cumulative of the many injustices and inefficiencies that I see in the world today that I have found that I am unable to effect any meaningful change. I will try to categorise the facets that have raised my ire in the upcoming text. I've said this before (see the footer of this page), but I will make it explicit here once more: all that I say are my views limited within the context of the time in which it was written, and is in no way the ``final word'' that I have on things. With that, let's soldier on.
The chief problem that the article demonstrates, at least in the early stages, is the common problem of local versus global optimisation. The governor involved in the decision making process that saw the withdrawal of certain forms of aids and subsidies was well-known to be making decisions through assiduous study of large amounts of data, these days known by the pop-term of ``big data''. On paper, it makes a lot of sense---you literally have data that can back up your decision to show that overall, there is an improvement of lives with the reduction in the use of resources such as money or housing. It sounds great, doesn't it? In fact, it probably makes a good newspaper headline, simply because the effect can be compactly represented as a catchy sound bite, a modern media darling. But ``big data'' hides a thousand evils. Decision making with ``big data'' often involves a type of utility function, and sad enough to say, most of the time the utility function is designed to measure something akin to the average case of something, and thus the best decision as defined under the utility function is the one that raises the average case. Ordinarily, by the Mean Value Theorem, we can safely assume that if the average value of a smooth function is improved, then almost all of the image given the range of the function will also be improved, put in more economical terms, a type of Pareto improvement (everyone wins) is achieved.
Except that in many cases, such utility functions are by no means smooth. Worse yet, policy makers are not mathematicians nor are they operational researchers, and therefore their utility functions tend to not pay close attention to the details, or in this case, humane concepts like ``what happens to the lowest percentile of a population given the new decision?''. And that is a major failing that plagues the modern technocrat. This is by no means a new problem, really, it occurs in every human endeavour that involves having to decide boundaries and how to shift them. Remember the times that you have to ask if your puny score for an exam is an `A'-grade or a `B'-grade? You face the exact problem. ``Big data'' analysis methods do not account for boundaries, and using such methods to solve human problems will have the same issues. The effect may be well at the global scale, but for various subsets of locality, we find that the decision taken is ludicrous. I used to think that given a strong scientific method of analysis, we can make the rationally best decision out of all possible decisions in the decision space, but now, I am no longer that firm in that thought. It does not contradict the idealism; it highlights the weakness of the simplified models that are used to aid in the decision making process. After all, isn't it the case that the output of a model is only as good as the input and the model's expressitivity itself?
But back to the article. The previous rant is sort of expected coming from me; the case of local optima (rules of thumbs) and global optima (unified/integrated model) is a cornerstone of making machine learning effective and accurate and was something that I had visited time and time again while I was still working on my PhD. This next part of the rant, however, is something that I have refrained from saying for quite a while because I didn't really have the thought process worked out till now. Allow me to summarise the next part with this one line:
Adults rarely, if ever, change their ways, for good or for bad.
The main thrust of the article is to use the anecdote of a promising girl (Dasani) and her life issues to illustrate the problems relating to the poverty cycle, especially in a land of opportunity such as the US. One theme that keeps coming back in the article, whether or not the author intended so, is the notion of education or at the very least, the conquering of ignorance. On the one hand, you have a promising child, Dasani, bright, street smart, and on the other hand you have her parents, ignorant, foolish, and at times, actively attempting to jeopardise Dasani's future. And then of course you have adults who know better who are trying to help Dasani escape the whole mess by providing all forms of support.
The poverty cycle is vicious. Yes, aid provided may be insufficient, sometimes deliberately so to prevent an over-reliance on the state, as seen by the policy changes highlighted in the article. But aid is always insufficient by very definition---if aid were always sufficient, it is not an aid but a form of livelihood. One cannot expect the glorious state to provide for all of her citizens' needs; it is a model that has been repeatedly demonstrated in history as being unsustainable. Aid is meant to help one tide over some rough times, provide a safety net that cushions off the hardest of the falls. Does one come out uninjured? No, but one is not dead, and that's what aid is supposed to help.
But how does one make effective use of aid? One needs to figure out how to stand on one's two feet, and that means, crudely put, a need to shed ignorance and to act responsibly. From the anecdotes in the article, one can easily see that the parents of Dasani are ignorant. Money that comes in goes as fast, with little to no plans beyond the short term. That is the continuation of the poverty cycle, since they are now poor, and they lament about being poor instead of trying to step out of the cycle by taking control of their lives.
You would think that education can help beat ignorance. Yes it can---all the responsible adults in the article are trying to do that for Dasani, to teach her, to make her learn, to make her think and realise just how ridiculous a situation she is in, to show her that there is a way out through education. Some of them also tried to get her parents to learn, but somehow that didn't work out.
Old habits die hard. The parents acknowledge it themselves in the article. Yet we don't see them actually trying to change. This is, in fact, a very troubling trend that I keep observing in the US, and perhaps even in Singapore. Acknowledging that a problem exists is a good first step, but if nothing else is done about it, then it is as good as not trying to solve the problem. Most of the time, we find that adults are the ones who are in that weird situation; children are more likely to be creative and figure out ways to get out of problems that are highlighted to them, unless of course if they are acting under direct supervision of adults, then they are more likely to take on whatever the adult that is supervising them say.
Ignorance is the true enemy of humans. Ideological extremism, be it political or religious, is based on ignorance. The solution to ignorance is education, but that is where the crux of the problem lies: how can we educate an ignorant person if the said person ignores his/her ignorance? An emerging example of this is the ``debate'' between evolution and creationism. I thought we had put that to rest with the open letter that was written to the Kansas School Board back in 2005; it is 2014 now, and we have a ``live'' debate between a science advocate and a creationism advocate. All I hear from the ignorant is ``no, you are not fit to educate me because I educated thankyouverymuch and I think that what you want to educate me with is baloney given what I believe in''. The ignorant don't even acknowledge that they have a problem, and that is in itself a major problem.
It would have ended there if they kept to themselves, but to raise their ignorance to the level of legitimacy of scientific knowledge is taking things too far. And I digress from the article, of course.
Coming back once more to the article, we find that ignorance becomes hard to stamp out when one reaches adulthood. The ways are set, and of course, the ignorant may not even acknowledge their ignorance, which makes rehabilitation hard to impossible. All hope then lies in the education of the young, and therefore the reliance on the next generation as a way of breaking out of the poverty cycle.
I could tie that analogy to how governance systems and political parties work, but I think I may be stretching it and will reserve that rant for another time.
If ignorance is the reason why the poverty cycle is not broken, why then doesn't the government attempt to break it through legislation? This is something that has interesting consequences. Sure, the cost will be great---we are talking about re-educating (which includes teaching, guidance and enforcement) these poverty-stricken ignorant adults to be more prudent in their finances, and to learn how to make an honest living for themselves and their families and finally break the poverty cycle, never to return---but it is not exactly unbearable. All the money, time and effort spent on dishing out aid (which is short term) can be pushed towards education (which is long term). No problems there.
So why aren't we doing it?
A couple of reasons come to mind. One is specific to the US---personal liberty. The government is supposed to, as far as the US constitution goes, run the country with as light a touch as possible. This means that didactic steps that appear autocratic are implicitly forbidden. Forcing anyone who is ``in a poverty cycle'' to undergo an education process that may appear to be draconian (for effect perhaps) can be seen as a form of discrimination and violating personal liberties. In fact, under a dictatorship, such forced [re-]education processes are the norm, except under most dictatorships, the [re-]education process is more often for the regime than for true altruistic reasons.
The second reason is a little more conspiratorial. There is a vested interest in a voted government to keep the voting bloc as ignorant as possible. Ignorant voters tend to ask less critical questions and are more likely to take what is said at face value, which makes propaganda effective, and therefore remove one level of uncertainty when parties are out campaigning. In many democratic countries, the majority vote is the one that counts, and therefore the ignorant voter who is easily swayed is a very precious commodity for each party to win over to their side. Less ignorant voters are more likely to ferret out the bullshit from the parties, and can make the campaigning process hard, and make the incumbent expend more effort in keeping their power, something that is not really welcomed by any rational party---why would anyone want more work at winning when spending less on education and diverting the funds to propaganda will work even better?
I'll end this rant on a slightly more optimistic note: we as adults are more or less ``finished'' when it comes to issues on ignorance and poverty. Our minds have already been fixed into the final form in some sense. We have little left in our future by way of variation, for good or for bad. But our young are literally the future. Our selfishness for the status quo should never be allowed to interfere in the preparation of our young to be better than we are, if we still want a human world to exist long into the future.
The article makes me angry. It makes me angry in a way that is cumulative of the many injustices and inefficiencies that I see in the world today that I have found that I am unable to effect any meaningful change. I will try to categorise the facets that have raised my ire in the upcoming text. I've said this before (see the footer of this page), but I will make it explicit here once more: all that I say are my views limited within the context of the time in which it was written, and is in no way the ``final word'' that I have on things. With that, let's soldier on.
The chief problem that the article demonstrates, at least in the early stages, is the common problem of local versus global optimisation. The governor involved in the decision making process that saw the withdrawal of certain forms of aids and subsidies was well-known to be making decisions through assiduous study of large amounts of data, these days known by the pop-term of ``big data''. On paper, it makes a lot of sense---you literally have data that can back up your decision to show that overall, there is an improvement of lives with the reduction in the use of resources such as money or housing. It sounds great, doesn't it? In fact, it probably makes a good newspaper headline, simply because the effect can be compactly represented as a catchy sound bite, a modern media darling. But ``big data'' hides a thousand evils. Decision making with ``big data'' often involves a type of utility function, and sad enough to say, most of the time the utility function is designed to measure something akin to the average case of something, and thus the best decision as defined under the utility function is the one that raises the average case. Ordinarily, by the Mean Value Theorem, we can safely assume that if the average value of a smooth function is improved, then almost all of the image given the range of the function will also be improved, put in more economical terms, a type of Pareto improvement (everyone wins) is achieved.
Except that in many cases, such utility functions are by no means smooth. Worse yet, policy makers are not mathematicians nor are they operational researchers, and therefore their utility functions tend to not pay close attention to the details, or in this case, humane concepts like ``what happens to the lowest percentile of a population given the new decision?''. And that is a major failing that plagues the modern technocrat. This is by no means a new problem, really, it occurs in every human endeavour that involves having to decide boundaries and how to shift them. Remember the times that you have to ask if your puny score for an exam is an `A'-grade or a `B'-grade? You face the exact problem. ``Big data'' analysis methods do not account for boundaries, and using such methods to solve human problems will have the same issues. The effect may be well at the global scale, but for various subsets of locality, we find that the decision taken is ludicrous. I used to think that given a strong scientific method of analysis, we can make the rationally best decision out of all possible decisions in the decision space, but now, I am no longer that firm in that thought. It does not contradict the idealism; it highlights the weakness of the simplified models that are used to aid in the decision making process. After all, isn't it the case that the output of a model is only as good as the input and the model's expressitivity itself?
But back to the article. The previous rant is sort of expected coming from me; the case of local optima (rules of thumbs) and global optima (unified/integrated model) is a cornerstone of making machine learning effective and accurate and was something that I had visited time and time again while I was still working on my PhD. This next part of the rant, however, is something that I have refrained from saying for quite a while because I didn't really have the thought process worked out till now. Allow me to summarise the next part with this one line:
Adults rarely, if ever, change their ways, for good or for bad.
The main thrust of the article is to use the anecdote of a promising girl (Dasani) and her life issues to illustrate the problems relating to the poverty cycle, especially in a land of opportunity such as the US. One theme that keeps coming back in the article, whether or not the author intended so, is the notion of education or at the very least, the conquering of ignorance. On the one hand, you have a promising child, Dasani, bright, street smart, and on the other hand you have her parents, ignorant, foolish, and at times, actively attempting to jeopardise Dasani's future. And then of course you have adults who know better who are trying to help Dasani escape the whole mess by providing all forms of support.
The poverty cycle is vicious. Yes, aid provided may be insufficient, sometimes deliberately so to prevent an over-reliance on the state, as seen by the policy changes highlighted in the article. But aid is always insufficient by very definition---if aid were always sufficient, it is not an aid but a form of livelihood. One cannot expect the glorious state to provide for all of her citizens' needs; it is a model that has been repeatedly demonstrated in history as being unsustainable. Aid is meant to help one tide over some rough times, provide a safety net that cushions off the hardest of the falls. Does one come out uninjured? No, but one is not dead, and that's what aid is supposed to help.
But how does one make effective use of aid? One needs to figure out how to stand on one's two feet, and that means, crudely put, a need to shed ignorance and to act responsibly. From the anecdotes in the article, one can easily see that the parents of Dasani are ignorant. Money that comes in goes as fast, with little to no plans beyond the short term. That is the continuation of the poverty cycle, since they are now poor, and they lament about being poor instead of trying to step out of the cycle by taking control of their lives.
You would think that education can help beat ignorance. Yes it can---all the responsible adults in the article are trying to do that for Dasani, to teach her, to make her learn, to make her think and realise just how ridiculous a situation she is in, to show her that there is a way out through education. Some of them also tried to get her parents to learn, but somehow that didn't work out.
Old habits die hard. The parents acknowledge it themselves in the article. Yet we don't see them actually trying to change. This is, in fact, a very troubling trend that I keep observing in the US, and perhaps even in Singapore. Acknowledging that a problem exists is a good first step, but if nothing else is done about it, then it is as good as not trying to solve the problem. Most of the time, we find that adults are the ones who are in that weird situation; children are more likely to be creative and figure out ways to get out of problems that are highlighted to them, unless of course if they are acting under direct supervision of adults, then they are more likely to take on whatever the adult that is supervising them say.
Ignorance is the true enemy of humans. Ideological extremism, be it political or religious, is based on ignorance. The solution to ignorance is education, but that is where the crux of the problem lies: how can we educate an ignorant person if the said person ignores his/her ignorance? An emerging example of this is the ``debate'' between evolution and creationism. I thought we had put that to rest with the open letter that was written to the Kansas School Board back in 2005; it is 2014 now, and we have a ``live'' debate between a science advocate and a creationism advocate. All I hear from the ignorant is ``no, you are not fit to educate me because I educated thankyouverymuch and I think that what you want to educate me with is baloney given what I believe in''. The ignorant don't even acknowledge that they have a problem, and that is in itself a major problem.
It would have ended there if they kept to themselves, but to raise their ignorance to the level of legitimacy of scientific knowledge is taking things too far. And I digress from the article, of course.
Coming back once more to the article, we find that ignorance becomes hard to stamp out when one reaches adulthood. The ways are set, and of course, the ignorant may not even acknowledge their ignorance, which makes rehabilitation hard to impossible. All hope then lies in the education of the young, and therefore the reliance on the next generation as a way of breaking out of the poverty cycle.
I could tie that analogy to how governance systems and political parties work, but I think I may be stretching it and will reserve that rant for another time.
If ignorance is the reason why the poverty cycle is not broken, why then doesn't the government attempt to break it through legislation? This is something that has interesting consequences. Sure, the cost will be great---we are talking about re-educating (which includes teaching, guidance and enforcement) these poverty-stricken ignorant adults to be more prudent in their finances, and to learn how to make an honest living for themselves and their families and finally break the poverty cycle, never to return---but it is not exactly unbearable. All the money, time and effort spent on dishing out aid (which is short term) can be pushed towards education (which is long term). No problems there.
So why aren't we doing it?
A couple of reasons come to mind. One is specific to the US---personal liberty. The government is supposed to, as far as the US constitution goes, run the country with as light a touch as possible. This means that didactic steps that appear autocratic are implicitly forbidden. Forcing anyone who is ``in a poverty cycle'' to undergo an education process that may appear to be draconian (for effect perhaps) can be seen as a form of discrimination and violating personal liberties. In fact, under a dictatorship, such forced [re-]education processes are the norm, except under most dictatorships, the [re-]education process is more often for the regime than for true altruistic reasons.
The second reason is a little more conspiratorial. There is a vested interest in a voted government to keep the voting bloc as ignorant as possible. Ignorant voters tend to ask less critical questions and are more likely to take what is said at face value, which makes propaganda effective, and therefore remove one level of uncertainty when parties are out campaigning. In many democratic countries, the majority vote is the one that counts, and therefore the ignorant voter who is easily swayed is a very precious commodity for each party to win over to their side. Less ignorant voters are more likely to ferret out the bullshit from the parties, and can make the campaigning process hard, and make the incumbent expend more effort in keeping their power, something that is not really welcomed by any rational party---why would anyone want more work at winning when spending less on education and diverting the funds to propaganda will work even better?
I'll end this rant on a slightly more optimistic note: we as adults are more or less ``finished'' when it comes to issues on ignorance and poverty. Our minds have already been fixed into the final form in some sense. We have little left in our future by way of variation, for good or for bad. But our young are literally the future. Our selfishness for the status quo should never be allowed to interfere in the preparation of our young to be better than we are, if we still want a human world to exist long into the future.
Wednesday, January 22, 2014
Looking in Both Directions
It's that day again. I'm pre-writing this while I'm still sober and not depressed/manic and so what I may say here is likely to be subjected to some minor changes on the day itself.
It seems like yesterday I was still celebrating my twenty-first. Now, I feel like I have used up yet another decade, and this time, with little to show for it save for the many different kinds of scars both figurative and literal from the whole ordeal that is life. This is the last year that I will have the leading figure of two, and it is one of those magical milestones in life where you stop to take stock of the goings on and decide how the next part should go.
I'm no different. Having tried to spend two decades redefining myself as a unique individual with the ability to change the world into a better place, I have found increasingly that the real world has a way of simply beating one severely to ensure one's conformity with social mores, for good or for bad.
At this stage of my life, I am almost confident that my formal education years are over, and from this point on, whatever I do and learn is based wholly upon my own chosen path, instead of the pre-set but still delusionary free will paths that I had been on since the start of my formal education.
The path before me differs from before. There are, surprisingly enough, much more choices now that I can take. I have unlocked slightly more aspects of myself that I didn't know existed when I was merely twenty, and each of these aspects provide a path that I can choose to go on as part of my life's journey. I have met wonderful people over this decade, and met with a couple that caused me more than my recommended dose of anguish. There were many significant highs, and just as many confidence-shattering lows.
I have been annealled and heated so many times that I an no longer the boy I was. Am I a man yet? From some metrics, I'm well on my way there. Already I have lost some of the freedom that youth gives; though still forthright as a general principle, I have learnt to curb my tongue at times, particularly when I have sensed that whatever I say will not help in matters at all. T'is better to shut up than to worsen a situation with reason that the other refuses to listen. I suppose this is why the PhD became one of those bad decisions that needed to be excised. I may hold a couple of diplomas, but it seems that I'm always within reach of relying on physical violence; such is how aggravating some situations I can get into. And that's why I curb my tongue and hold my peace---confrontations will not end well for the other party if I do allow myself to go ``all out''.
But those reflective thoughts sound a little too nostalgic and self-defeating. Time to look forward.
What's the year ahead for me?
Getting work done---that's my primary occupation. At least eight hours a day for five days a week; doing something to that frequency makes it hard to just ignore it. To build on my own happiness with a woman that I suspect I am starting to love---a hard path that I've chosen, but it is something that has the highest postive expected value. Staying sane is no longer the problem; it seems that I have learnt more ways of accomplishing that now that I am no longer under any form of direct oppression. I also see a deeper exploration of writing on my side, what with the blitz writing that I've promised to do for the rest of the year, and the exploration of poetry forms that I am about to start on.
All in all, a good year ahead is planned.
I don't regret the last decade. True, it had bad parts, like how all the old friends I have starting to drift away and go into their various lives, or how I was delayed in life for effectively four years due to national service and the ill-attempt at the PhD (silver lining: leaving with an MCS). But I changed from being a machine that emulates emotions into a person who thinks he is a machine emulating emotions. In some sense, I have revealed more of me to myself over the last ten years, and am happier by it. It may not seem much to the less observant, but those close enough can attest to the changes that I have undergone.
Or I could just be delusional. Either way works for me.
This is starting to be an aimless entry. That's fine by me. It's my birthday---I get to choose what I want to say, especially on my blog.
Who can stop me?
It seems like yesterday I was still celebrating my twenty-first. Now, I feel like I have used up yet another decade, and this time, with little to show for it save for the many different kinds of scars both figurative and literal from the whole ordeal that is life. This is the last year that I will have the leading figure of two, and it is one of those magical milestones in life where you stop to take stock of the goings on and decide how the next part should go.
I'm no different. Having tried to spend two decades redefining myself as a unique individual with the ability to change the world into a better place, I have found increasingly that the real world has a way of simply beating one severely to ensure one's conformity with social mores, for good or for bad.
At this stage of my life, I am almost confident that my formal education years are over, and from this point on, whatever I do and learn is based wholly upon my own chosen path, instead of the pre-set but still delusionary free will paths that I had been on since the start of my formal education.
The path before me differs from before. There are, surprisingly enough, much more choices now that I can take. I have unlocked slightly more aspects of myself that I didn't know existed when I was merely twenty, and each of these aspects provide a path that I can choose to go on as part of my life's journey. I have met wonderful people over this decade, and met with a couple that caused me more than my recommended dose of anguish. There were many significant highs, and just as many confidence-shattering lows.
I have been annealled and heated so many times that I an no longer the boy I was. Am I a man yet? From some metrics, I'm well on my way there. Already I have lost some of the freedom that youth gives; though still forthright as a general principle, I have learnt to curb my tongue at times, particularly when I have sensed that whatever I say will not help in matters at all. T'is better to shut up than to worsen a situation with reason that the other refuses to listen. I suppose this is why the PhD became one of those bad decisions that needed to be excised. I may hold a couple of diplomas, but it seems that I'm always within reach of relying on physical violence; such is how aggravating some situations I can get into. And that's why I curb my tongue and hold my peace---confrontations will not end well for the other party if I do allow myself to go ``all out''.
But those reflective thoughts sound a little too nostalgic and self-defeating. Time to look forward.
What's the year ahead for me?
Getting work done---that's my primary occupation. At least eight hours a day for five days a week; doing something to that frequency makes it hard to just ignore it. To build on my own happiness with a woman that I suspect I am starting to love---a hard path that I've chosen, but it is something that has the highest postive expected value. Staying sane is no longer the problem; it seems that I have learnt more ways of accomplishing that now that I am no longer under any form of direct oppression. I also see a deeper exploration of writing on my side, what with the blitz writing that I've promised to do for the rest of the year, and the exploration of poetry forms that I am about to start on.
All in all, a good year ahead is planned.
I don't regret the last decade. True, it had bad parts, like how all the old friends I have starting to drift away and go into their various lives, or how I was delayed in life for effectively four years due to national service and the ill-attempt at the PhD (silver lining: leaving with an MCS). But I changed from being a machine that emulates emotions into a person who thinks he is a machine emulating emotions. In some sense, I have revealed more of me to myself over the last ten years, and am happier by it. It may not seem much to the less observant, but those close enough can attest to the changes that I have undergone.
Or I could just be delusional. Either way works for me.
This is starting to be an aimless entry. That's fine by me. It's my birthday---I get to choose what I want to say, especially on my blog.
Who can stop me?
Sunday, January 12, 2014
Structure
Blech. I feel like shooting myself in the face.
So, in one of my earlier posts of the year, I said that I would be writing a short piece of something every day and posting it up on my scribble blog. And I felt like writing something a little more substantial today, so something along the lines of writing for 30 minutes from a prompt, way up from the usual 10--12 minutes that I use, while using WriteThis.
I was almost done when the timer went off, and I was typing a word with the `n' character, which promptly told WriteThis to discard the text that I had in the text box. And so, I lost a 30 minute piece of writing. Since WriteThis doesn't have any form of back-up mechanism, and I stupidly did not use a safety copy-to-clipboard save, I've lost that story forever.
I was ready to rage quit. But instead, I just started on a ten minute piece to post as a means of fulfilling today's quota. Such a stupid action on my part. Bah.
------
On slightly less trivial matters, I have been thinking a little on the whole notion of the corporate entity with respect to social, economic and political spheres. I don't think this concept is new, but it is an interesting perspective to think about nonetheless.
I think that at some fundamental level, structure is the basis of nature. The problem with ``optimising'' nature is the issue of choosing the right structure with which to organise the objects involved.
Starting at a not-so-low level, humans are multicellular organisms. Each of us have roughly the same archetypal structure that makes us human, something that anatomy can easily show us. Yet each cell that makes us up is individual and unique. Such combinations also cause each of us to be individual and unique in the way we behave and in the way we think.
But on an even more macroscopic level, we organise ourselves according to structures as well. Socially we organise ourselves into groups of families, clans, villages, towns, cities, countries. Economically we organise ourselves as sole proprietorships, partnerships, small/medium enterprises, corporations, conglomerations, consortia, trade blocs. Politically we organise ourselves as cells, sects, races, councils, parties, strategic blocs, nations.
There is but one major difference: unlike cells, we can simultaneously be a part of multiple such structures across the three different categories of structures. If there is anything that separates the artificiality of separating artificial from natural, I think this would be the best candidate.
It was once the case thta the three different categories were treated as one. Within a single localised structure of say a village, the social, economic and possibly political groups are one and the same. But as we increase the number of people and increase the scope in which we allow ourselves to travel (both metaphorical and literal), we find that such homogeneity is no longer common. For example, someone may be a staunch ally of the United States (political group), be a part of the Mitsubishi corporation (economic group) and yet be a devout wife in a biracial family (social group). This is a natural outcome from having increased globalisation. Ideas and information are intangible but infinitely reproducible goods, and once a good idea or good piece of information ``escapes'', they tend to reproduce rather quickly and almost without limit.
The problems of the world come about when the membership of each of these groups start clashing. With a cell in a body, it is obvious that it belongs to the body and therefore its loyalty stays with the body. But what about people who belong to different groups across the social, economic and political spheres? What should they do if one or more ideals from their various groups suddenly clash? Who will they side? Who should they side? These are not readily apparent.
In the old days, loyalty was easy---you are loyal to your country, or more specifically, you are most loyal to things that are in close proximity to you. Thus the whole notion of nationalist pride, and calls of defending one's home and all the other brave words that many a warrior had shouted out in the past. But with multi-national corporations being the norm these days, such loyalty becomes murky, since physical location is no longer the determining factor, but ideological alignment is. Should one be loyal to one's country if one discovers that the entity that gives them the most benefits is the corporation that they are associated with? What about one's loyalty to one's country and corporation under the influence of one's religion?
I don't have an answer to the question that I have so posed, but it will be an interesting line of thought to consider with respect to the way the world works. Maybe I might have something new to contribute on this some time in the future as and when I sort out my thoughts on the matter.
So, in one of my earlier posts of the year, I said that I would be writing a short piece of something every day and posting it up on my scribble blog. And I felt like writing something a little more substantial today, so something along the lines of writing for 30 minutes from a prompt, way up from the usual 10--12 minutes that I use, while using WriteThis.
I was almost done when the timer went off, and I was typing a word with the `n' character, which promptly told WriteThis to discard the text that I had in the text box. And so, I lost a 30 minute piece of writing. Since WriteThis doesn't have any form of back-up mechanism, and I stupidly did not use a safety copy-to-clipboard save, I've lost that story forever.
I was ready to rage quit. But instead, I just started on a ten minute piece to post as a means of fulfilling today's quota. Such a stupid action on my part. Bah.
------
On slightly less trivial matters, I have been thinking a little on the whole notion of the corporate entity with respect to social, economic and political spheres. I don't think this concept is new, but it is an interesting perspective to think about nonetheless.
I think that at some fundamental level, structure is the basis of nature. The problem with ``optimising'' nature is the issue of choosing the right structure with which to organise the objects involved.
Starting at a not-so-low level, humans are multicellular organisms. Each of us have roughly the same archetypal structure that makes us human, something that anatomy can easily show us. Yet each cell that makes us up is individual and unique. Such combinations also cause each of us to be individual and unique in the way we behave and in the way we think.
But on an even more macroscopic level, we organise ourselves according to structures as well. Socially we organise ourselves into groups of families, clans, villages, towns, cities, countries. Economically we organise ourselves as sole proprietorships, partnerships, small/medium enterprises, corporations, conglomerations, consortia, trade blocs. Politically we organise ourselves as cells, sects, races, councils, parties, strategic blocs, nations.
There is but one major difference: unlike cells, we can simultaneously be a part of multiple such structures across the three different categories of structures. If there is anything that separates the artificiality of separating artificial from natural, I think this would be the best candidate.
It was once the case thta the three different categories were treated as one. Within a single localised structure of say a village, the social, economic and possibly political groups are one and the same. But as we increase the number of people and increase the scope in which we allow ourselves to travel (both metaphorical and literal), we find that such homogeneity is no longer common. For example, someone may be a staunch ally of the United States (political group), be a part of the Mitsubishi corporation (economic group) and yet be a devout wife in a biracial family (social group). This is a natural outcome from having increased globalisation. Ideas and information are intangible but infinitely reproducible goods, and once a good idea or good piece of information ``escapes'', they tend to reproduce rather quickly and almost without limit.
The problems of the world come about when the membership of each of these groups start clashing. With a cell in a body, it is obvious that it belongs to the body and therefore its loyalty stays with the body. But what about people who belong to different groups across the social, economic and political spheres? What should they do if one or more ideals from their various groups suddenly clash? Who will they side? Who should they side? These are not readily apparent.
In the old days, loyalty was easy---you are loyal to your country, or more specifically, you are most loyal to things that are in close proximity to you. Thus the whole notion of nationalist pride, and calls of defending one's home and all the other brave words that many a warrior had shouted out in the past. But with multi-national corporations being the norm these days, such loyalty becomes murky, since physical location is no longer the determining factor, but ideological alignment is. Should one be loyal to one's country if one discovers that the entity that gives them the most benefits is the corporation that they are associated with? What about one's loyalty to one's country and corporation under the influence of one's religion?
I don't have an answer to the question that I have so posed, but it will be an interesting line of thought to consider with respect to the way the world works. Maybe I might have something new to contribute on this some time in the future as and when I sort out my thoughts on the matter.
Sunday, January 05, 2014
白い雪
Recently, I got my hands on this nice piece by KOKIA:
KOKIA------白い雪Lyrics courtesy of J-Lyric.net. A translation from Hendri Tan is provided here:
溢れる涙から生まれる雪の結晶
次から次へと生まれては消えてゆく
一瞬の輝きに賭けた人生
もう言い残すことはないと堅く口を閉ざした
沈黙の中で押し寄せる感情が凍りついてく
白く汚れを知らない雪だからこそ
はかなく消えていった
白く汚れを知らない雪だからこそ
傷つきやすかった
静かに忍び寄る終わりの時に気づかず
無邪気にはしゃいだ時はただ過ぎてく
小さな吐息が白い跡を残して
閉ざされた世界に立ちすくみ
冷えきったその手は
もうどんなぬくもりも感じないと
凍りついてく
白く汚れを知らない雪だからこそ
はかなく消えていった
白く汚れを知らない雪だからこそ
傷つきやすかった
生まれたことの意味も知らずに
消えてゆく存在に誰も気づかず
他人の笑いに押しつぶされて
孤独と手を結んだあの子は最期に... 笑ってた
白く汚れを知らない雪だからこそ
はかなく消えていった
白く汚れを知らない雪だからこそ
傷つきやすかった
降り積もる雪たちは
あなたの生きた証さえも残さず白くしてゆく
降り積もる雪たちは
あなたの生きた証さえも残さず白くしてゆく
白く汚れを知らない雪だからこそ
はかなく消えていった
白く汚れを知らない雪だからこそ
傷つきやすかった
遠く聞こえるあの子の声 白い雪の足跡
Crystal Snow was born from my flowing tearsI've been listening to this piece on loop for the past few days, and frankly, it is really haunting and lovely, even without having to read the translation of the lyrics. KOKIA is a lovely singer, and I'm glad to have first heard of her some time back on one of the few non-nonsensical threads on 4chan.
From one drop to the next one, then starting to disappear
Risking on an instant light of human life
There's nothing left to say, so I close my mouth tightly
In a silence, feelings that I ignored begin to freeze...
You won't see the white impurity, because it's snow
It'll soon gone
You won't see the white impurity, because it's snow
It's easy to leave a wound on somebody
Quietly creeping in, in the end I become worry
Innocently I think I've overacted when I thank you
With a small sigh, leaving white prints
I can't move in a locked world
And my hand become completely chilled
Can't fill warmth anymore
And I begin to freeze...
You won't see the white impurity, because it's snow
It'll soon gone
You won't see the white impurity, because it's snow
It's easy to leave a wound on somebody
Before I knew the meaning of being born
Everybody's worry of not surviving anymore
People's laugh is being wasted away
Totally confused -- need help
laughing
You won't see the white impurity, because it's snow
It'll soon gone
You won't see the white impurity, because it's snow
It's easy to leave a wound on somebody
The gathered falling snow
Even as a proof of your living, the left white begin to disappear
The gathered falling snow
Even as a proof of your living, the left white begin to disappear
You won't see the white impurity, because it's snow
It'll soon gone
You won't see the white impurity, because it's snow
It's easy to leave a wound on somebody
Somewhere far out there I can hear the little boy's voice
Footprints of white snow...
Wednesday, January 01, 2014
Quick Summary
So, a quick summary of what I had written in 2013:
That’s an average of 0.074 pieces of writing a day, compared to 0.34 last year. I'll be frank, it's an atrocious number of writing, at least, if you compare only the publicly available stuff. I have reverted to writing diary entries these days instead of using my own blogs to publish my thoughts on issues around us, partly because it is just more handy (grab book, grab fountain pen, go!) compared to using Blogger (log in, click new post, realise I can't gauge how much I'm writing from the lousy back-end text entry area, load up Q10 to scribble, copy and then paste into text area before publishing). The other part to the reason is that my thoughts on many things have started to stray more and more into the not-so-good-for-public-consumption realm.
What this means is that I have decided that certain thoughts that I have are to be kept relatively private, and are not meant for world consumption. Is it because they are seditious? No, they are just private thoughts. It's tricky that way. Sort of like a religious conviction---you have them, but you can't exactly explain or even talk about it that makes sense to anyone but yourself.
Besides, now that I've turned more or less into one of the millions of corporate drones in the world, what kind of care-free frivolous whimsical writing am I supposed to do? I don't really have much good news to write about, and I've been on cold turkey from writing verse because I think my verse is just terrible, and not to mention that I am less inspired these days due to corporate drone-hood.
The last six to seven months of being back in Singapore have been very sobering. The environment that I was used to is no longer existent. Everywhere I look, I see new and strange sights that I would not have dreamed of just two years ago. Everyone seems to be rushing around in circles, and those who seem smart enough to escape the cycle of busy work have done so by just leaving it behind and disappearing elsewhere. It's a bleak outlook, my fellow reader, a very bleak one. And it's getting to the cynic in me.
This year though, I have rekindled my old hobby---reading, and I don't mean reading scientific papers from conference proceedings or journals, I mean fiction, or at the very least, classics. Already I have put up a reading list on my own web site to track the books that I am reading, will read, and have read. Perhaps this is my way of escaping the cycle of busy work, to embed myself in alternate worlds that were created by writers past and present, to see things from their perspective, to live more lives than I can physically do so vicariously.
I think I'll boost the writing output for this year. I can't let it slide away like that. Of all the things that I do that are not work-related, writing comes in as the first thing, followed by music, followed by my martial arts and running, of which I had not been doing much of late due to over-use injuries. So, as a part of the plan, I will write a short story fragment every day, using the venerable WriteThis 2, my steady companion throughout all these years to help me keep my ``blitz'' style of writing going. At the same time, I'm doing a rewrite/retelling of the fantasy story I wrote last year. Having read the Ender series, I think I have a gimmick that I can explore a little more fully than that horrible draft I had written earlier and make it into something a little more substantial, but infused with a little more local flavour. I refuse to sound like a typical American or British writer---I think that the interesting Singaporean style of talking and phrasing will be a more refreshing feel than what has already been said out there. It won't be a best seller (because I'm not going to get a publisher for it), but it should be quite fun. I'll probably work on it a little each weekend for the rest of this year as a means of getting something useful out. Can't do it more frequent than that because it will start to eat into my Aikido, running and reading time. I value my reading time of the Economist a lot---that periodical contains way more content and punch than the average person that I converse with these days. How sad can that be?
To the few loyal followers of my blog(s), I apologise deeply for the relative lack of updates. Let us make a deal. No matter what kind of crap I have, I will try to write something here at least once every fortnight. It's one of the few tenuous connections that we have left between you, the reader, and I, considering that I am almost on the verge of shunning that abominable social network known as Facebook. No matter how inane the post may be, no matter how short it may be, I will write something here every fortnight at the very least. Perhaps such a schedule will allow this blog to not fall into oblivion like all the other blogs in existence.
And with that, I conclude the oddball year that was 2013 and look forward to a better one in 2014, where it will be the official last year of being twenty-something.
- 3 poems posted here
- 22 essays/rants posted here
- 1 prose/story posted here
- 1 NaNoWriMo winning entry that I have censored because it was dreadful in the choice of content
That’s an average of 0.074 pieces of writing a day, compared to 0.34 last year. I'll be frank, it's an atrocious number of writing, at least, if you compare only the publicly available stuff. I have reverted to writing diary entries these days instead of using my own blogs to publish my thoughts on issues around us, partly because it is just more handy (grab book, grab fountain pen, go!) compared to using Blogger (log in, click new post, realise I can't gauge how much I'm writing from the lousy back-end text entry area, load up Q10 to scribble, copy and then paste into text area before publishing). The other part to the reason is that my thoughts on many things have started to stray more and more into the not-so-good-for-public-consumption realm.
What this means is that I have decided that certain thoughts that I have are to be kept relatively private, and are not meant for world consumption. Is it because they are seditious? No, they are just private thoughts. It's tricky that way. Sort of like a religious conviction---you have them, but you can't exactly explain or even talk about it that makes sense to anyone but yourself.
Besides, now that I've turned more or less into one of the millions of corporate drones in the world, what kind of care-free frivolous whimsical writing am I supposed to do? I don't really have much good news to write about, and I've been on cold turkey from writing verse because I think my verse is just terrible, and not to mention that I am less inspired these days due to corporate drone-hood.
The last six to seven months of being back in Singapore have been very sobering. The environment that I was used to is no longer existent. Everywhere I look, I see new and strange sights that I would not have dreamed of just two years ago. Everyone seems to be rushing around in circles, and those who seem smart enough to escape the cycle of busy work have done so by just leaving it behind and disappearing elsewhere. It's a bleak outlook, my fellow reader, a very bleak one. And it's getting to the cynic in me.
This year though, I have rekindled my old hobby---reading, and I don't mean reading scientific papers from conference proceedings or journals, I mean fiction, or at the very least, classics. Already I have put up a reading list on my own web site to track the books that I am reading, will read, and have read. Perhaps this is my way of escaping the cycle of busy work, to embed myself in alternate worlds that were created by writers past and present, to see things from their perspective, to live more lives than I can physically do so vicariously.
I think I'll boost the writing output for this year. I can't let it slide away like that. Of all the things that I do that are not work-related, writing comes in as the first thing, followed by music, followed by my martial arts and running, of which I had not been doing much of late due to over-use injuries. So, as a part of the plan, I will write a short story fragment every day, using the venerable WriteThis 2, my steady companion throughout all these years to help me keep my ``blitz'' style of writing going. At the same time, I'm doing a rewrite/retelling of the fantasy story I wrote last year. Having read the Ender series, I think I have a gimmick that I can explore a little more fully than that horrible draft I had written earlier and make it into something a little more substantial, but infused with a little more local flavour. I refuse to sound like a typical American or British writer---I think that the interesting Singaporean style of talking and phrasing will be a more refreshing feel than what has already been said out there. It won't be a best seller (because I'm not going to get a publisher for it), but it should be quite fun. I'll probably work on it a little each weekend for the rest of this year as a means of getting something useful out. Can't do it more frequent than that because it will start to eat into my Aikido, running and reading time. I value my reading time of the Economist a lot---that periodical contains way more content and punch than the average person that I converse with these days. How sad can that be?
To the few loyal followers of my blog(s), I apologise deeply for the relative lack of updates. Let us make a deal. No matter what kind of crap I have, I will try to write something here at least once every fortnight. It's one of the few tenuous connections that we have left between you, the reader, and I, considering that I am almost on the verge of shunning that abominable social network known as Facebook. No matter how inane the post may be, no matter how short it may be, I will write something here every fortnight at the very least. Perhaps such a schedule will allow this blog to not fall into oblivion like all the other blogs in existence.
And with that, I conclude the oddball year that was 2013 and look forward to a better one in 2014, where it will be the official last year of being twenty-something.
Friday, November 29, 2013
Yet Another NaNoWriMo Win.
After 29 days of gruelling writing, I have finally finished this year's NaNoWriMo entry entitled ``disturbed''. The long and short of it is this---it is bad, very bad, exceedingly bad, superlatively bad. The inspiration for this story began in mid-October, where I was feeling somewhat homicidal for some reason, and thought, `hey, wouldn't it be a great idea to try something different and write a disturbing piece of fiction instead of the relatively PG stuff that I had been writing?' I was all ready to go and what have you, but since it was mid-October, I couldn't start on it. But when November rolled in, I realised to my horror that I didn't feel the same kind of... feeling that I had then. And so the entire premise of a disturbing piece of fiction started sizzling out before it got really hot. But I've tried my best and have written 50051 words on it. It's horrible---easily among the worst things I have written.
But I had a streak going. Can't just break it like that, right? Already I didn't finish one thing this year (that whole PhD mess), so I should try to climb out of the rut and finish something that I had initiated after all.
And yes, now, I have the manuscript, that I promptly will burn up and refuse to acknowledge its existence. It is that bad. It is so bad even for a first draft that I'm not ever going to release it for consumption. I've given myself a little leeway in suggesting folks to ask me privately for the work, but frankly, after writing the last twenty thousand words, I'm not really that comfortable letting people into this particular aspect of my headspace.
Good riddance for this year's NaNoWriMo. D=
------
Side note 1: Shostakobvich's Ballet Suite 2 (Romance) is a strangely fun piece.
------
Side note 2: I think I realise why I don't blog that much any more. Partly it is because I lead a slightly more mundane life, partly because I am keeping most of my thoughts in a paper diary, but partly because Blogger is now getting more and more dysfunctional for use. First they made the HTML editing mode so darn painful to use (why is the custom width of the fixed-width text removed?). Next, the whole layout-with-widgets concept is full of bugs---I added the new NaNoWriMo win badge to my Scribbling blog and it took me a good ten minutes to get it into place. Some of the problems that I was facing include duplicated image elements (what), the new demand of a title for the image (What), and the really terrible saving of the template (WHAT). I know it is more WYSIWYG like now, but its operation is terrible. Is this the way to encourage people to switch over to using Google+? That I'm not so sure. I'm starting to wonder if it is more cost effective to just host my own blogs on one of my servers, and no, it will not be based on Wordpress. It'll probably be a nice Pylons based thing that I write, because apparently that's what I'm doing a lot of these days.
Whelp, that's most of it. Time to get back to reading more books and to stay away from writing for a while. I have this feeling of re-writing that fantasy piece I started on last year for next year's NaNoWriMo, but I think I'm one year too early to be planning for that.
Till next time.
But I had a streak going. Can't just break it like that, right? Already I didn't finish one thing this year (that whole PhD mess), so I should try to climb out of the rut and finish something that I had initiated after all.
And yes, now, I have the manuscript, that I promptly will burn up and refuse to acknowledge its existence. It is that bad. It is so bad even for a first draft that I'm not ever going to release it for consumption. I've given myself a little leeway in suggesting folks to ask me privately for the work, but frankly, after writing the last twenty thousand words, I'm not really that comfortable letting people into this particular aspect of my headspace.
Good riddance for this year's NaNoWriMo. D=
------
Side note 1: Shostakobvich's Ballet Suite 2 (Romance) is a strangely fun piece.
------
Side note 2: I think I realise why I don't blog that much any more. Partly it is because I lead a slightly more mundane life, partly because I am keeping most of my thoughts in a paper diary, but partly because Blogger is now getting more and more dysfunctional for use. First they made the HTML editing mode so darn painful to use (why is the custom width of the fixed-width text removed?). Next, the whole layout-with-widgets concept is full of bugs---I added the new NaNoWriMo win badge to my Scribbling blog and it took me a good ten minutes to get it into place. Some of the problems that I was facing include duplicated image elements (what), the new demand of a title for the image (What), and the really terrible saving of the template (WHAT). I know it is more WYSIWYG like now, but its operation is terrible. Is this the way to encourage people to switch over to using Google+? That I'm not so sure. I'm starting to wonder if it is more cost effective to just host my own blogs on one of my servers, and no, it will not be based on Wordpress. It'll probably be a nice Pylons based thing that I write, because apparently that's what I'm doing a lot of these days.
Whelp, that's most of it. Time to get back to reading more books and to stay away from writing for a while. I have this feeling of re-writing that fantasy piece I started on last year for next year's NaNoWriMo, but I think I'm one year too early to be planning for that.
Till next time.
Monday, November 11, 2013
Shadow Warrior
The worst thing that can happen to anyone who actually has to think for a living is to have a massive headache. It is true --- it is actually ridiculously hard to think when you are suffering from some kind of internal pounding that you and the doctor have no real explanation why it is there, except that it shouldn't even be there in the first place. Let me begin a little on what happened.
So about three weeks or so ago I started to have headaches. It started off relatively mild, but it slowly got to the point where it was disruptive. In many previous occurrences, I had mild throbbing sensations at various parts of my left hemisphere, but that throbbing had always been mild and easily ignored. Moreoever, it had a tendency to resolve itself after a day or two. But what happened three days ago was anything like the original discomfort that I was used to dealing with. The pain was throbbing still, but it was holistic and spread all about the head. It was unbearable in the sort of ``I need to think'' sort of way, which really sucked. Seeing the doctor, the diagnosis that I was given was ``tension headache'', which was a fancy term for an idiopathic sort of pain, which was a fancier term for ``we have no idea why you are having headaches so here's a small stack of painkillers to help with the pain''. At least the doctor was diligent enough to let me know of the symptoms I had to look out for in case it was more than just a mere tension headache (any form of dizziness with vomitting was a sign that something more serious was afoot and would require an immediate scan of the brain).
While that tension headache was raging on, I had to keep thinking and coding for a demo that was coming up for the system that I was working on for work. That didn't end well for me because I had to either try thinking with a headache and without painkillers, or try thinking without a headache with the painkillers, but be woozy from the painkillers themselves. It wasn't much of a choice, and somehow I managed to pull through, and the demo was successful.
Ntnva juvyr gur grafvba urnqnpur jnf entvat ba, EK naq V unq n snyyvat bhg. Vg jnf fghcvq --- ur jnagrq gb erag/obeebj zl fnkbcubar, naq V jnf hajvyyvat gb. Vg jbhyq unir raqrq gurer ohg V jnfa'g yvxvat gur snpg gung ur jnf npgviryl gelvat gb fbyvpvg fnyrf bs zl fghss sebz zr naq V envfrq vg gb uvz gung V qvqa'g yvxr vg, naq gura ur whfg qrpvqrq gb rkcybqr naq tb nyy ``qvr zbgureshpxre qvr'' ba zr. Vg jnf n fghcvq snyyvat bhg, ohg V qba'g ernyyl pner nobhg vg nal zber --- rirelbar unf gb zbir ba jvgu yvsr ng bar cbvag be nabgure, naq guvf jnf whfg bar bs gubfr gheavat cbvagf va bar'f yvsr gung bar unf gb qrny jvgu. V'z abg natel jvgu uvz ng nyy, naq V qba'g guvax V npghnyyl unir nal zber pner gb tvir gb fbzrbar yvxr gung. V hfrq gb jbeel nobhg uvz naq jnf jvyyvat gb tvir uvz n unaq be gjb gb trg ol jvgu guvatf, ohg jryy, gvzrf punatr. Fvapr ur qbrfa'g jnag gb gnyx jvgu zr, fb or vg. Fbzr eryngvbafuvcf unir ab arrq sbe fnyingvba nsgre nyy.
Ntnva ba fbzr guvatf, V'z abg fher vs V'z whfg snagnfvmvat/cebwrpgvat be zreryl qvttvat n tenir sbe zl shgher frys gb whzc va jvgu cher uheg. Ohg V xabj bar guvat sbe pregnva --- fur naq V ner vaqrrq gnyxvat gb rnpu bgure, fybjyl ohg fheryl. Gvzr mbarf ner bar bs gur irel fgenatr ohg erny guvatf gung jr arrq gb qrny jvgu nf ybat nf jr yvir ba guvf cynarg naq ner ba yvgreny bccbfvgr raqf, ohg gurer ner fgvyy znal guvatf gung jr pna qb gb oevat gur pbaarpgvba n yvggyr pybfre. Ovg ol ovg V yrnea n yvggyr zber nobhg ure, naq fpnevyl, V'z fgnegvat gb cyna zl shgher jvgu ure va zvaq, gubhtu V'z abg fher vs fur vf qbvat gur fnzr, pbafvqrevat ubj gung jubyr fhowrpg znggre vf pheeragyl va gur inthryl qrsvarq mbarq, cnegyl orpnhfr V qba'g unir rabhtu pbhentr gb pynevsl vg pbzcyrgryl naq cnegyl orpnhfr vg vf abg gur evtug gvzr gb bognva n gehr nafjre. Ohg bar pna ubcr naq cyna, naq vs guvatf ghea bhg terng, vg jbhyq or bar bs gur zbfg jbaqreshy guvatf gb unccra va zl yvsr.
Vs vg snvyf, ng yrnfg V pna gryy zlfrys V unq gevrq.
Ohg gurer ner fbzr guvatf jurer zrrgvat snpr gb snpr vf n zhfg, naq V guvax gur nafjre gb zl pbahaqehz snyyf vagb guvf pngrtbel. Zrnajuvyr V jvyy whfg yvir va iveghny gbezrag ba zl rgreany fbhy jbaqrevat vs fur ybirf zr be vs fur ybirf zr abg. V whfg ubcr gung fur xabjf V qba'g hfr gung sbhe-yrggre jbeq yvtugyl, naq va znal pvephzfgnaprf, gung sbhe-yrggre jbeq jba'g rira nccrne sebz zl yvcf, gubhtu creuncf fbzr bs zl npgvbaf pna fcrnx sbe zlfrys.
On slightly less mushy news, I've finally had a chance to try out the new Shadow Warrior reboot. It has a very different feel to it as compared to the original Shadow Warrior released by 3D Realms --- it was one of the games that I had bought and played from the first Pentium III computer that I had access to at home. Compared to the original, it feels more like an RPG, but compared to many modern FPS, it feels more old school with the large number of battles with the mooks. However, the one thing that makes it different from the other FPSes is the ridiculously overpowered melee attacks that you can pull off with the katana --- it's even more insane than the original Shadow Warrior. There's a lot of twiddling involved with the katana attacks, but those are used mostly to generate semi-mystical ki-powered attacks that augment the katana in various ways. There are also three main trees of upgrades, each running on a different currency, so it doesn't follow the more ``traditional'' type of RPG advancement. I'm enjoying the game so far, but we'll see if it holds out toward the end-game content.
This year's NaNoWriMo entry is turning out to be harder than expected. I was ready to write a completely disturbing piece of fiction, but when November arrived, I suddenly realised to my horror that I had lost the disturbing nature that I had cultivated for this event. So I'm just going to wing it more than usual. Due to the nature of the writing, it's likely that I will not be releasing this for public consumption --- it will be available only on request.
That's all I have for now. Oh right, nearly forgot. I'm not on facebook again, and this time, I'm not sure if I'll ever be back on it. We'll just have to see how things go before I make a decision. Till the next update.
So about three weeks or so ago I started to have headaches. It started off relatively mild, but it slowly got to the point where it was disruptive. In many previous occurrences, I had mild throbbing sensations at various parts of my left hemisphere, but that throbbing had always been mild and easily ignored. Moreoever, it had a tendency to resolve itself after a day or two. But what happened three days ago was anything like the original discomfort that I was used to dealing with. The pain was throbbing still, but it was holistic and spread all about the head. It was unbearable in the sort of ``I need to think'' sort of way, which really sucked. Seeing the doctor, the diagnosis that I was given was ``tension headache'', which was a fancy term for an idiopathic sort of pain, which was a fancier term for ``we have no idea why you are having headaches so here's a small stack of painkillers to help with the pain''. At least the doctor was diligent enough to let me know of the symptoms I had to look out for in case it was more than just a mere tension headache (any form of dizziness with vomitting was a sign that something more serious was afoot and would require an immediate scan of the brain).
While that tension headache was raging on, I had to keep thinking and coding for a demo that was coming up for the system that I was working on for work. That didn't end well for me because I had to either try thinking with a headache and without painkillers, or try thinking without a headache with the painkillers, but be woozy from the painkillers themselves. It wasn't much of a choice, and somehow I managed to pull through, and the demo was successful.
Ntnva juvyr gur grafvba urnqnpur jnf entvat ba, EK naq V unq n snyyvat bhg. Vg jnf fghcvq --- ur jnagrq gb erag/obeebj zl fnkbcubar, naq V jnf hajvyyvat gb. Vg jbhyq unir raqrq gurer ohg V jnfa'g yvxvat gur snpg gung ur jnf npgviryl gelvat gb fbyvpvg fnyrf bs zl fghss sebz zr naq V envfrq vg gb uvz gung V qvqa'g yvxr vg, naq gura ur whfg qrpvqrq gb rkcybqr naq tb nyy ``qvr zbgureshpxre qvr'' ba zr. Vg jnf n fghcvq snyyvat bhg, ohg V qba'g ernyyl pner nobhg vg nal zber --- rirelbar unf gb zbir ba jvgu yvsr ng bar cbvag be nabgure, naq guvf jnf whfg bar bs gubfr gheavat cbvagf va bar'f yvsr gung bar unf gb qrny jvgu. V'z abg natel jvgu uvz ng nyy, naq V qba'g guvax V npghnyyl unir nal zber pner gb tvir gb fbzrbar yvxr gung. V hfrq gb jbeel nobhg uvz naq jnf jvyyvat gb tvir uvz n unaq be gjb gb trg ol jvgu guvatf, ohg jryy, gvzrf punatr. Fvapr ur qbrfa'g jnag gb gnyx jvgu zr, fb or vg. Fbzr eryngvbafuvcf unir ab arrq sbe fnyingvba nsgre nyy.
Ntnva ba fbzr guvatf, V'z abg fher vs V'z whfg snagnfvmvat/cebwrpgvat be zreryl qvttvat n tenir sbe zl shgher frys gb whzc va jvgu cher uheg. Ohg V xabj bar guvat sbe pregnva --- fur naq V ner vaqrrq gnyxvat gb rnpu bgure, fybjyl ohg fheryl. Gvzr mbarf ner bar bs gur irel fgenatr ohg erny guvatf gung jr arrq gb qrny jvgu nf ybat nf jr yvir ba guvf cynarg naq ner ba yvgreny bccbfvgr raqf, ohg gurer ner fgvyy znal guvatf gung jr pna qb gb oevat gur pbaarpgvba n yvggyr pybfre. Ovg ol ovg V yrnea n yvggyr zber nobhg ure, naq fpnevyl, V'z fgnegvat gb cyna zl shgher jvgu ure va zvaq, gubhtu V'z abg fher vs fur vf qbvat gur fnzr, pbafvqrevat ubj gung jubyr fhowrpg znggre vf pheeragyl va gur inthryl qrsvarq mbarq, cnegyl orpnhfr V qba'g unir rabhtu pbhentr gb pynevsl vg pbzcyrgryl naq cnegyl orpnhfr vg vf abg gur evtug gvzr gb bognva n gehr nafjre. Ohg bar pna ubcr naq cyna, naq vs guvatf ghea bhg terng, vg jbhyq or bar bs gur zbfg jbaqreshy guvatf gb unccra va zl yvsr.
Vs vg snvyf, ng yrnfg V pna gryy zlfrys V unq gevrq.
Ohg gurer ner fbzr guvatf jurer zrrgvat snpr gb snpr vf n zhfg, naq V guvax gur nafjre gb zl pbahaqehz snyyf vagb guvf pngrtbel. Zrnajuvyr V jvyy whfg yvir va iveghny gbezrag ba zl rgreany fbhy jbaqrevat vs fur ybirf zr be vs fur ybirf zr abg. V whfg ubcr gung fur xabjf V qba'g hfr gung sbhe-yrggre jbeq yvtugyl, naq va znal pvephzfgnaprf, gung sbhe-yrggre jbeq jba'g rira nccrne sebz zl yvcf, gubhtu creuncf fbzr bs zl npgvbaf pna fcrnx sbe zlfrys.
On slightly less mushy news, I've finally had a chance to try out the new Shadow Warrior reboot. It has a very different feel to it as compared to the original Shadow Warrior released by 3D Realms --- it was one of the games that I had bought and played from the first Pentium III computer that I had access to at home. Compared to the original, it feels more like an RPG, but compared to many modern FPS, it feels more old school with the large number of battles with the mooks. However, the one thing that makes it different from the other FPSes is the ridiculously overpowered melee attacks that you can pull off with the katana --- it's even more insane than the original Shadow Warrior. There's a lot of twiddling involved with the katana attacks, but those are used mostly to generate semi-mystical ki-powered attacks that augment the katana in various ways. There are also three main trees of upgrades, each running on a different currency, so it doesn't follow the more ``traditional'' type of RPG advancement. I'm enjoying the game so far, but we'll see if it holds out toward the end-game content.
This year's NaNoWriMo entry is turning out to be harder than expected. I was ready to write a completely disturbing piece of fiction, but when November arrived, I suddenly realised to my horror that I had lost the disturbing nature that I had cultivated for this event. So I'm just going to wing it more than usual. Due to the nature of the writing, it's likely that I will not be releasing this for public consumption --- it will be available only on request.
That's all I have for now. Oh right, nearly forgot. I'm not on facebook again, and this time, I'm not sure if I'll ever be back on it. We'll just have to see how things go before I make a decision. Till the next update.
Sunday, October 20, 2013
Workarounds...
Some notes to myself for Elysie-II since the update of the BIOS from release 5 to release 7:
Very very curious.
It's probably only a slight annoyance for now, considering that the Windows set up is used only for gaming.
- Xubuntu: For Hyper-Threading to work, ACPI needs to be enabled at the BIOS.
- Xubuntu: To not cause a device driver crash, disable integrated VGA support in the BIOS.
- Windows 7: In total contrast to Xubuntu, to not cause a device driver crash, enable the integrated VGA support in the BIOS.
Very very curious.
It's probably only a slight annoyance for now, considering that the Windows set up is used only for gaming.
Monday, September 23, 2013
Feed Not the Troll, but Ban it Instead
It has been a while since I last wrote here. The lack of updates isn't really because of a lack of want to update, but really because there is just so little to update. But, to keep things interesting, allow me to spew some vitriol on something controversal first, before expounding on more... mundane things. I mean at the end of the day, what's the point of a blog if not to rant?
``Victim blaming'' is a phrase I keep hearing time and time again, and often times, this is associated with the loaded word ``rape''. ``Rape'' is a loaded word because in many cases it ends up becoming a case of circumstantial evidence, a case of ``he said, she said'', and only because the conditions in which it is set up is based around the notion of consent, yet without the formality that is provided by usual contractual law. But that's not what I'm going to rant about -- I am ranting about the notion of ``victim blaming''. One common defense that rapists make is that the victim ``had it coming by dressing in a way that is sexually provocative''. Is that a valid defense? No, definitely not; in a liberal society, everyone is allowed to wear whatever the hell they want and walk wherever the hell they want. However, and this is a really big however, we should all be aware of how certain seemingly innocent factors can cumulate towards increasing the risk in which someone can become a victim.
Here's a slightly less controversial example. Suppose that there is a step ladder leaned against the wall, with someone on top of it painting. You are walking and you see this ladder. Will you walk below the ladder or around the ladder? Here, I am creating a scenario where there are two obvious courses of actions, one that is obviously less risky and one that is obviously more risky. A rational agent assumption would suppose that a rational agent would be slightly more risk averse, and therefore choose the course of action that is least risky, and in this case, walking around the ladder. Will anyone stop you from walking below the ladder? No, not really -- you can always do that, though if the ladder falls on top of you, you have no one to blame except for your own judgement.
Accusing someone of ``victim blaming'' is jarring to me only because it pre-supposes that the consequences of all possible actions taken are solely dependent on the environment, and that the victim is an innocent party. I disagree. While the victim ought to be empathised for his/her plight, he/she should also be taken to task for having poor judgement on his/her choice of actions given that the world is not an ideal non-hostile environment. I have to emphasize that last point because it is crucial -- just because you can dress skimpily (for example) doesn't mean that you have to. Should you be raped if you dress skimpily? Definitely not! But by doing so, you've already shifted the odds against you -- so while you shouldn't be sexually assaulted at all no matter what you wear, by dressing skimpily, you are already sending the wrong signals out. And I find that yelling at people who point out this at-risk behaviour as ``victim blaming'' is not only unfair, but highly irrational.
But try to get this past the general population. Good luck.
------
In other news, the eye infection that I was fighting for the past three weeks has finally been fully healed over. It was stupid -- I thought it was yet another one of those corneal abrasions that I seemed to be prone to getting, but it turned out to be a viral infection. The opthalmologist suspected that it was a Herpes Simplex (HSV-1) infection; the infection managed to clear up from a sustained dose of topical Acyclovir. Having one blurry eye and one good eye made it really hard to see things and get stuff done, and more often than not I was just feeling rather irritated.
After nearly 4 years of service, Elysie finally kicked the bucket. I ended up making Elysie Mk II with a Gigabyte GA-Z87X-UD3H mother board with Intel Core i7 4770 Haswell processor and 32GiB RAM, housed in a Coolmaster HAF 912 chassis. I cannibalised the relatively new ASUS Nvidia GTX 680 and PSU from Elysie Mk I for Elysie Mk II, and moved the 1TB hard drive over to join with the 2TB hard drive. I had originally planned to rebuild Elysie next year, probably when Broadwell is released, but due to the sudden death of the old motherboard, I had to bring forward the upgrade plans. I ditched the Windows XP 64-bit Professional edition ``gaming'' operating system and installed a Windows 7 64-bit Professional edtiion one instead. I tried to get Xubuntu 12.04 LTS to work, but the Intel GbE ethernet interface was completely unrecognised -- had to use Xubuntu 13.04 instead.
I find the Elysie Mk II (or Elysie-II from now on) is not very stable for some reason. On Xubuntu 13.04, I started to get random kernel panics from kswapd, so I disabled the swap partition -- that seemed to do the trick. But then after nearly 24 hours of running the prime95 (version 27) program, she suddenly had a black screen and seemed to be turned off, and I have no bloody clue what was going on. On Windows 7, I had slightly different problems -- some of the graphics when playing Poker Night 2 were jittery, and there were a few random crashes for almost no reason. Thinking that the virtual/physical memory map was the issue, I have disabled the page file, and so far, that seemed to do the trick also.
I'm starting to suspect that perhaps 32GiB of RAM is starting to encroach upon other reserved memory locations that I was previously unaware of from running everything with memory of at most 8GiB. I have run memtest86+ on the RAM chips, and they seemed to be good. Guess I'll have to keep an eye out on things from now on.
Finally, my Bose QC20 In-ear Active Noise-Cancelling Headphones finally arrived last Friday. I test run the device on over the weekend and damn was I impressed. The comfort was like the usual IE2 that I use regularly (audiophiles can take a hike -- I value comfort over ``audiophilic quality playback'' from the headphones since I wear the damn thing for at least 8 hours a day), but it was damn good at blocking out the mundane noise that one would expect from living in a non-air-conditioned HDB flat on a low floor. Earlier today, I used the QC20 on the bus, and in the office before finally using it on the train, and I have the same comment as before -- the damn thing does a really good job at blocking out the unwanted noise, whether it was a consistent hum or human speech. I might have over-paid for this (it is Bose after all), but I'm not regretting it at all. I have tried many types of in-ear headphones, but of the lot, I still like the comfort that the basic Bose IE2 design has, where the speakers sit in the bowl of the pinna instead of digging deeper into the ear canal to find a hold there. The sound reproduction of the QC20 is not fantastic, but for what it is supposed to do (cut back on ambient noise), it does it really well in a form factor that lends itself to a much longer use time.
------
Man, this is fast turning into one of those über-long and ranty posts. And I'm still not quite done yet. The last thing I want to rant about is the incident that occurred in my previous post. Let me put things into a little perspective. I write entries on this blog mostly as a way of airing my views on issues big or small, as well as to highlight some observations that I have made about the world around me. I love comments, because it is one of the ways to have some light interaction here. But I maintain an iron-grip on what comment gets published and what doesn't -- this is just prudence at work, and not really about censorship.
Recently, there have been two instances of trolls who have decided to make use of the anonymous commenting capability of my blog to slam me with rather negative and useless comments. One basically accused me of ``wasting my advisor's money'' (false: I was funded directly by the Organisation) and the other was goading me into thinking that I was a loser. I could have easily refused to publish those comments, but I chose to do so, as well as to rebut their allegations. Immediately after the appearance of the second troll, I promptly disabled anonymous commenting on my blog.
In all the years that this blog has existed, I have rarely had a troll situation like this. Yet in the short span of less than six months, I see two instances of such abuse of the anonymous comment system. I can shrug it off and get on with life, but I suspect this is likely to escalate over time -- I doubt that these comments happened ``by chance''. I don't have to deal with this crap -- and so, the anonymous commenting capability is removed.
Those who care will still know how to get hold of me, so nothing of value was truly lost. =)
And with that, I'm done with this post. Till the next entry then.
``Victim blaming'' is a phrase I keep hearing time and time again, and often times, this is associated with the loaded word ``rape''. ``Rape'' is a loaded word because in many cases it ends up becoming a case of circumstantial evidence, a case of ``he said, she said'', and only because the conditions in which it is set up is based around the notion of consent, yet without the formality that is provided by usual contractual law. But that's not what I'm going to rant about -- I am ranting about the notion of ``victim blaming''. One common defense that rapists make is that the victim ``had it coming by dressing in a way that is sexually provocative''. Is that a valid defense? No, definitely not; in a liberal society, everyone is allowed to wear whatever the hell they want and walk wherever the hell they want. However, and this is a really big however, we should all be aware of how certain seemingly innocent factors can cumulate towards increasing the risk in which someone can become a victim.
Here's a slightly less controversial example. Suppose that there is a step ladder leaned against the wall, with someone on top of it painting. You are walking and you see this ladder. Will you walk below the ladder or around the ladder? Here, I am creating a scenario where there are two obvious courses of actions, one that is obviously less risky and one that is obviously more risky. A rational agent assumption would suppose that a rational agent would be slightly more risk averse, and therefore choose the course of action that is least risky, and in this case, walking around the ladder. Will anyone stop you from walking below the ladder? No, not really -- you can always do that, though if the ladder falls on top of you, you have no one to blame except for your own judgement.
Accusing someone of ``victim blaming'' is jarring to me only because it pre-supposes that the consequences of all possible actions taken are solely dependent on the environment, and that the victim is an innocent party. I disagree. While the victim ought to be empathised for his/her plight, he/she should also be taken to task for having poor judgement on his/her choice of actions given that the world is not an ideal non-hostile environment. I have to emphasize that last point because it is crucial -- just because you can dress skimpily (for example) doesn't mean that you have to. Should you be raped if you dress skimpily? Definitely not! But by doing so, you've already shifted the odds against you -- so while you shouldn't be sexually assaulted at all no matter what you wear, by dressing skimpily, you are already sending the wrong signals out. And I find that yelling at people who point out this at-risk behaviour as ``victim blaming'' is not only unfair, but highly irrational.
But try to get this past the general population. Good luck.
------
In other news, the eye infection that I was fighting for the past three weeks has finally been fully healed over. It was stupid -- I thought it was yet another one of those corneal abrasions that I seemed to be prone to getting, but it turned out to be a viral infection. The opthalmologist suspected that it was a Herpes Simplex (HSV-1) infection; the infection managed to clear up from a sustained dose of topical Acyclovir. Having one blurry eye and one good eye made it really hard to see things and get stuff done, and more often than not I was just feeling rather irritated.
After nearly 4 years of service, Elysie finally kicked the bucket. I ended up making Elysie Mk II with a Gigabyte GA-Z87X-UD3H mother board with Intel Core i7 4770 Haswell processor and 32GiB RAM, housed in a Coolmaster HAF 912 chassis. I cannibalised the relatively new ASUS Nvidia GTX 680 and PSU from Elysie Mk I for Elysie Mk II, and moved the 1TB hard drive over to join with the 2TB hard drive. I had originally planned to rebuild Elysie next year, probably when Broadwell is released, but due to the sudden death of the old motherboard, I had to bring forward the upgrade plans. I ditched the Windows XP 64-bit Professional edition ``gaming'' operating system and installed a Windows 7 64-bit Professional edtiion one instead. I tried to get Xubuntu 12.04 LTS to work, but the Intel GbE ethernet interface was completely unrecognised -- had to use Xubuntu 13.04 instead.
I find the Elysie Mk II (or Elysie-II from now on) is not very stable for some reason. On Xubuntu 13.04, I started to get random kernel panics from kswapd, so I disabled the swap partition -- that seemed to do the trick. But then after nearly 24 hours of running the prime95 (version 27) program, she suddenly had a black screen and seemed to be turned off, and I have no bloody clue what was going on. On Windows 7, I had slightly different problems -- some of the graphics when playing Poker Night 2 were jittery, and there were a few random crashes for almost no reason. Thinking that the virtual/physical memory map was the issue, I have disabled the page file, and so far, that seemed to do the trick also.
I'm starting to suspect that perhaps 32GiB of RAM is starting to encroach upon other reserved memory locations that I was previously unaware of from running everything with memory of at most 8GiB. I have run memtest86+ on the RAM chips, and they seemed to be good. Guess I'll have to keep an eye out on things from now on.
Finally, my Bose QC20 In-ear Active Noise-Cancelling Headphones finally arrived last Friday. I test run the device on over the weekend and damn was I impressed. The comfort was like the usual IE2 that I use regularly (audiophiles can take a hike -- I value comfort over ``audiophilic quality playback'' from the headphones since I wear the damn thing for at least 8 hours a day), but it was damn good at blocking out the mundane noise that one would expect from living in a non-air-conditioned HDB flat on a low floor. Earlier today, I used the QC20 on the bus, and in the office before finally using it on the train, and I have the same comment as before -- the damn thing does a really good job at blocking out the unwanted noise, whether it was a consistent hum or human speech. I might have over-paid for this (it is Bose after all), but I'm not regretting it at all. I have tried many types of in-ear headphones, but of the lot, I still like the comfort that the basic Bose IE2 design has, where the speakers sit in the bowl of the pinna instead of digging deeper into the ear canal to find a hold there. The sound reproduction of the QC20 is not fantastic, but for what it is supposed to do (cut back on ambient noise), it does it really well in a form factor that lends itself to a much longer use time.
------
Man, this is fast turning into one of those über-long and ranty posts. And I'm still not quite done yet. The last thing I want to rant about is the incident that occurred in my previous post. Let me put things into a little perspective. I write entries on this blog mostly as a way of airing my views on issues big or small, as well as to highlight some observations that I have made about the world around me. I love comments, because it is one of the ways to have some light interaction here. But I maintain an iron-grip on what comment gets published and what doesn't -- this is just prudence at work, and not really about censorship.
Recently, there have been two instances of trolls who have decided to make use of the anonymous commenting capability of my blog to slam me with rather negative and useless comments. One basically accused me of ``wasting my advisor's money'' (false: I was funded directly by the Organisation) and the other was goading me into thinking that I was a loser. I could have easily refused to publish those comments, but I chose to do so, as well as to rebut their allegations. Immediately after the appearance of the second troll, I promptly disabled anonymous commenting on my blog.
In all the years that this blog has existed, I have rarely had a troll situation like this. Yet in the short span of less than six months, I see two instances of such abuse of the anonymous comment system. I can shrug it off and get on with life, but I suspect this is likely to escalate over time -- I doubt that these comments happened ``by chance''. I don't have to deal with this crap -- and so, the anonymous commenting capability is removed.
Those who care will still know how to get hold of me, so nothing of value was truly lost. =)
And with that, I'm done with this post. Till the next entry then.
Sunday, August 25, 2013
Funerals and Servers
The past fortnight had been a rather dreary affair, in many cases. Like most corporate salaryman, there was a large number of meetings mostly crammed within the past week, and the week before that I was again down with some kind of combination of a head-cold.
While I acknowledge that meetings are necessary as a means of communication for the different organs of the organisation to synchronise their actions towards a higher goal (often known as the corporate goal), but the downside of such meetings of course is that those of us who are quite low on the corporate ladder will need to find some other means of getting what we need to do done. But I'm mumbling again.
Two significant events occurred last week, and I will write a little on each here. The first is that I attended the wake of a colleague's parent, and the other was the handling of the servers that were finally in.
I'll be blunt. I'm not a fan of attending funerals, particularly of people that I don't really know that well. It is not that I find funerals morbid -- they are actually interesting, but more on that later -- but it's just that it is one of those many situations in life where one gets thrust into a crowd of strangers that are related by some rather obscure relationship that no one really knows about beforehand. I don't really like being in a group of strangers, especially if there is no real goal other than to mingle and ``network'', execu-speak for making tenuous connections in the hope that one day the connection may prove to be useful for business. This is of no difference; I felt a little discomfort not because there was a dead person in the room, but that I had to sit there and act interested among a group of people that I have little to no understanding of, even though many of them are my colleagues.
But the social discomfort aside, the funeral was an eye-opener of sorts. It had, in some sense, confirmed what I had earlier thought about funerary rites in general -- they were made for the living more than they were made for the dead; really, would you actually care what was being said and done given that you're already dead? The colleague whose parent the wake was for spent some time recalling about the parent's life, and how the last stages of the journey were like. We just sat there and listened politely, with little to no questions being asked -- what was there to ask about, really, on a person that we hardly knew ever? But it was obvious that as my colleague went on with the description, there was a certain sense of detachment -- there was awe in the voice, and little to none of that depressive feel that one would commonly associate with anything funereal.
Maybe I do find a little more solace among the dead than among the living.
On a less morbid sounding note, I had my first taste of the steps in deploying real servers in a real data centre. It was, to say the least, fascinating. Thankfully I didn't have to physically do the set up -- we had vendors to do that kind of thing. I was, however, exposed to the whole bureaucracy that was involved just to help get things into place, and that alone was worth a lesson or two. I am contemplating if I should get certification for specific server products as a means of building a set of standard skills that I can easily demonstrate to others, as opposed to relying on pure bravado and hackery to achieve. But all these certification things cost money, and I'm not sure if it is something that I can easily get sponsorship for... it's something to think about anyway.
And that's all I care to write for the moment. Till next time I suppose.
While I acknowledge that meetings are necessary as a means of communication for the different organs of the organisation to synchronise their actions towards a higher goal (often known as the corporate goal), but the downside of such meetings of course is that those of us who are quite low on the corporate ladder will need to find some other means of getting what we need to do done. But I'm mumbling again.
Two significant events occurred last week, and I will write a little on each here. The first is that I attended the wake of a colleague's parent, and the other was the handling of the servers that were finally in.
I'll be blunt. I'm not a fan of attending funerals, particularly of people that I don't really know that well. It is not that I find funerals morbid -- they are actually interesting, but more on that later -- but it's just that it is one of those many situations in life where one gets thrust into a crowd of strangers that are related by some rather obscure relationship that no one really knows about beforehand. I don't really like being in a group of strangers, especially if there is no real goal other than to mingle and ``network'', execu-speak for making tenuous connections in the hope that one day the connection may prove to be useful for business. This is of no difference; I felt a little discomfort not because there was a dead person in the room, but that I had to sit there and act interested among a group of people that I have little to no understanding of, even though many of them are my colleagues.
But the social discomfort aside, the funeral was an eye-opener of sorts. It had, in some sense, confirmed what I had earlier thought about funerary rites in general -- they were made for the living more than they were made for the dead; really, would you actually care what was being said and done given that you're already dead? The colleague whose parent the wake was for spent some time recalling about the parent's life, and how the last stages of the journey were like. We just sat there and listened politely, with little to no questions being asked -- what was there to ask about, really, on a person that we hardly knew ever? But it was obvious that as my colleague went on with the description, there was a certain sense of detachment -- there was awe in the voice, and little to none of that depressive feel that one would commonly associate with anything funereal.
Maybe I do find a little more solace among the dead than among the living.
On a less morbid sounding note, I had my first taste of the steps in deploying real servers in a real data centre. It was, to say the least, fascinating. Thankfully I didn't have to physically do the set up -- we had vendors to do that kind of thing. I was, however, exposed to the whole bureaucracy that was involved just to help get things into place, and that alone was worth a lesson or two. I am contemplating if I should get certification for specific server products as a means of building a set of standard skills that I can easily demonstrate to others, as opposed to relying on pure bravado and hackery to achieve. But all these certification things cost money, and I'm not sure if it is something that I can easily get sponsorship for... it's something to think about anyway.
And that's all I care to write for the moment. Till next time I suppose.
Tuesday, August 06, 2013
Brute in a Suit
``You can put a brute in a suit, but he will never be a gentleman---he just looks like a brute, in a suit.''
That's the kind of feeling I get each time I put on my work clothes and head out to the office for yet another day of helping towards building a cool system. I was never a part of the gentry; I was not of the high-born, even if it is actually to be possible to be a part of the modern nobility in a young nation like Singapore. If I had to choose the role in society that I have been bred for, I would go as far as saying being that of a Knight, with some notions of what a high-born ought to do, but being of a more practical temperament and pragmatic attitude towards life.
Not to mention also the general need to have to always ``fight'', and the whole code of behaviour that I somehow manage to keep stowed away at some part of my mind, which makes it neigh impossible for me to attempt truly reprehensible actions even unconsciously.
At work, I had to wonder about how to deploy something on a CentOS system, used as a proxy to RHEL. It felt like a throwback to an earlier period of GNU/Linux system use, almost like the time when I was running Slackware, where I had to basically grab and build most of the packages that I needed. Thankfully, there was still the presence of yum which helped reduce much of the problems of dependencies. However, the CentOS/RHEL universe of packaged binaries is significantly smaller than the multiverse that is Debian/Ubuntu, and having worked with the latter architecture for so long, I have been fat from the ease of using apt-get to get me whatever I want from the multiverse.
So it took me a while to figure out how to get the things that I need for deployment. It really didn't help that I had been running a rather nasty head cold for nearly a week and a half; it was almost impossible to read the mountains of documentation that were necessary for the understanding of what was going on and extract the salient points that helped with the undertaking. I was on the verge of delirium, but still managed to pull enough sanity together to get some things done. That easily cost me around two to three days of good work.
After writing so much here, one question remains. What's the theme of this update? That, I will leave it for now and walk away from the keyboard to get some much needed sleep.
That's the kind of feeling I get each time I put on my work clothes and head out to the office for yet another day of helping towards building a cool system. I was never a part of the gentry; I was not of the high-born, even if it is actually to be possible to be a part of the modern nobility in a young nation like Singapore. If I had to choose the role in society that I have been bred for, I would go as far as saying being that of a Knight, with some notions of what a high-born ought to do, but being of a more practical temperament and pragmatic attitude towards life.
Not to mention also the general need to have to always ``fight'', and the whole code of behaviour that I somehow manage to keep stowed away at some part of my mind, which makes it neigh impossible for me to attempt truly reprehensible actions even unconsciously.
At work, I had to wonder about how to deploy something on a CentOS system, used as a proxy to RHEL. It felt like a throwback to an earlier period of GNU/Linux system use, almost like the time when I was running Slackware, where I had to basically grab and build most of the packages that I needed. Thankfully, there was still the presence of yum which helped reduce much of the problems of dependencies. However, the CentOS/RHEL universe of packaged binaries is significantly smaller than the multiverse that is Debian/Ubuntu, and having worked with the latter architecture for so long, I have been fat from the ease of using apt-get to get me whatever I want from the multiverse.
So it took me a while to figure out how to get the things that I need for deployment. It really didn't help that I had been running a rather nasty head cold for nearly a week and a half; it was almost impossible to read the mountains of documentation that were necessary for the understanding of what was going on and extract the salient points that helped with the undertaking. I was on the verge of delirium, but still managed to pull enough sanity together to get some things done. That easily cost me around two to three days of good work.
After writing so much here, one question remains. What's the theme of this update? That, I will leave it for now and walk away from the keyboard to get some much needed sleep.
Thursday, July 25, 2013
Vexations
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.
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.
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.
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