In Repair

I want to share a song with you. It has had healing power over me for the past little while. I hope it brings to you what it has brought me. Take care.

***

In Repair
written by John Mayer
(the colon's my own because that's how I interpret it)

Too many shadows in my room
Too many hours in this midnight
Too many corners in my mind
So much to do to set my heart right

Oh it's taking so long
I could be wrong: I could be ready
Oh but if I take my heart's advice
I should assume it's still unsteady
I am in repair
I am in repair

Stood on the corner for a while
To wait for the wind to blow down on me
Hoping it takes with it my old ways
And brings some brand new luck upon me

Oh it's taking so long
I could be wrong: I could be ready
Oh but if I take my heart's advice
I should assume it's still unsteady
I am in repair
I am in repair

And now I'm walking in a park
And all of the birds they dance below me
Maybe when things turn green again
It will be good to say you know me

Oh it's taking so long
I could be wrong: I could be ready
Oh but if I take my heart's advice
I should assume it's still unsteady
Oh I'm never really ready
Oh I'm never really ready
I'm in repair
I'm not together but I'm getting there
I'm in repair
I'm not together but I'm getting there
...

Quantum of Solace

"...the one moment in a relationship when it's all over and there's nothing left, and you no longer have that tiny piece of something that makes it work, that quantum of solace..." --Daniel Craig, interview with Jay Leno

I am exercising extraordinary constraint in not speeding down to Metropolis and watching the new Bond movie all by myself, all else be damned. Oh but the anticipation! I remember my excitement when I first learned about the new movie, an excitement which has not been subdued by months of awaiting the release and now two more weeks' self-control. I got through today; I can go another sixteen. ...Damn, I thought it'd be fewer.

But it'll come, oh it'll come. And when it gets here, my patience will be rewarded.

I've always liked the new Bond, but the title of this movie struck me with a special resonance. Craig's Bond is fearless, decisive, and focused, all qualities which I have long lost. But he is after all, just a man, and as such is subject to pain, both corporeal and intangible.

What defines a meaningful relationship? At what point can someone say with certainty that either something is there, or that it has disappeared? Married couples joke that "that magic" is gone; old friends become lovers one day as if "a switch has been flicked somewhere"; those that go their separate ways often cite that, though they love each other, they're not "in" love. Couples fight all the time. They bicker and quarrel over the most trivial things sometimes. They question in which direction their life is going. The more significant disagreements can cause a rupture that may be irreparable. And yet, those relationships that are meant to last always recover from those deadly blows. What is that mysterious element that is so discrete and powerful?

A quantum of solace, that "spark of niceness in a relationship."

Bonds that cannot be broken, ties that are meant to be...all attributed to a single moment in time when a person finds that quantum of solace in the other. Perhaps that is the act of falling in love. It is this element of time and space, of emotions and acts, of memories and hopes, like a shining sigularity at the heart of the universe, holds the relationship together when all the rest start to tumble.
(to be continued...)

Rekindled

It had been some time since I had a serious look in my PHYS305 textbook. I had told myself that that was it, we were through, because I could not put up with any more intellectual abuse. Today I spent a good, solid three hours with it, whereupon all is forgiven, and we're back together again, I with deeper love and appreciation, and it offering more than I was ready to accept three years ago.

Coincidentally, I had been accosted by some Jehovah's witnesses and given a flyer which asked if I would like to know the Truth. I couldn't help but smile: if only the poor old ladies knew what a irreparably degenerate atheist I am and will likely always be! Nonetheless, it made me think.

"Energy, Information, Life." Thus runs the subtitle of my favourite science textbook. What is life, really? Dad and I have had numerous discussions over this topic, and like pretty much all of our conversations, they ended in the mere command "Go to bed, it's late" issued to me, while the commandant himself continued parlance with Mr. Daniels or the Beefeater. Putting aside the scientifically challenging (and rather irrelevant) topics of mind, consciousness, volition, etc., I asked myself what are the physical parameters of life? A standard enough question for a life-science student, but the physics part of it, that order and complexity that appear daunting to mankind, how would we explain that? Must life necessitate a Creator?

The text has an interesting "excursion" (Sec. 1.3) that inspired me like it would have done in days of old, when I was still naive and full of wonder. --That life can be deciphered and reduced to neat physical laws! Is not this far more attractive than Creationism on the organismal level? Imagine a nature that not only put us into being, but did so in such a way that, if we worked hard enough, we can eventually understand the process by which we ourselves came about. Is it not much more awe-inspiring than a genesis rooted in congealing out of the mind of some whimsical and all-powerful being outside of what we can even comprehend as reality? God works in mysterious ways. --But why? Why can't He tell us His rules? What is He afraid of? And why are we incapable of figuring them out? --Or are we not allowed? Principles of nature are freely accessible to us and have enriched our lives considerably during our quest to uncover them. No, I will not accede to supernatural causes.

I looked up from my book and breathed in a good lungful of air, with as much sorrow as pride. I come from a long line of human beings whose fascination lies in uncovering the most intimate aspects of science: the physical laws of life, how the rules that govern inanimate objects from atoms to the universe underscore the highest, possibly most intelligent and complex form of being as we know. It is an ambitious endeavour, one from which I have informally withdrawn due to a foreseeable lack of contributions to the movement. ...Pity. In the fleeting moments of confidence, I want to charge at it again. I wish to wield all my strength and penetrate the forbidding exterior of mathematics and bask in the embracing warmth of a phenomenon explained. But the rigor soon dissipates, and I am left alone again, dejected and confused, wondering how I got to this step and what to integrate next.

Biophysics will always be my first love, the one that filled my heart with an indescribable joy, even as I struggled with where it might lead me and leave me. Though it is no longer an option to spend my life with this particular interest, I allow myself to revisit it from time to time, and to relish in the experience that for a few years, I, too, have delved into the mysteries of life.

Science Fiction

I just watched Star Trek: First Contact again, which brought back so many memories.

Lately I have been complaining of the quality of science fiction on TV. Unfortunately I don't get Space any more, so hard-core sci-fi is out of the picture. But of the much anticipated, general, crime-centred science-fiction shows, such a large portion is simply a waste of airspace.

Take Fringe for example. The premise cannot be more alluring: teleportation, talking to the dead, ... --fringe science, they call it. Has the show delivered its promise? Gee, I wonder if there were some profundity in microwaving a papaya, or keeping a large cow in the lab, or perhaps any one of the pee jokes. If the science is sound, all that would be permissible and filed under quirkiness of the ingenious mind, but sadly, there is very little science at all. No-one seems to know what is going on, and if someone did, they always fail to explain it adequately. The scientist is senile and his logic hops around more erratically than a drunken flea. The son, brilliant and handsome as he is, cannot stop rolling his eyes and dismissing his father's seemingly far-fetched ideas without even honouring them with a proper debunking. Agent Dunham is way too tense and has no sense of humour, not to mention any real grasp of anything scientific. So far the most lovable character is Charlie the FBI agent: at least he doesn't pretend to understand the strange happenings. For all the above reasons, I have stopped watching this show. It's a real pity because it has so much potential, yet so little substance.

What about the Eleventh Hour, featuring a representative of that beloved and awe-inspiring profession--biophysicist--oh right, and yet another FBI agent. ...Why is the FBI always involved in these things? Granted, Jacob Hood is a charming fellow (--there, see what's wrong already?) but how is he anything even close to a biophysicist? Are young people supposed to get the impression that biophysicists are often under the protection of a stunningly beautiful though trigger-happy blond FBI agent, and that the job itself involves knowing all kinds of obscure facts? It bothers me even more that the science is sometimes so far off course that I can't even take the show seriously. The last episode, which sparked tonight's rant, actually showed smallpox viruses under a compound light microscope in the same field as several red blood cells just for the sake of showing size comparison--that they're similar, except the virus looks cubical and yellow. --Are the writers out of their poorly educated minds? The diameter of smallpox viruses is on the scale of a tenth of a micron, whereas that of an RBC is around ten--that's a hundred-fold difference! You'd be lucky to even spot a shadow of it under the light microscope, not to mention that most microscopes don't show specimens in colour and certainly not that glossy 3-D computer-generated effect. It's not hard at all to find an existing image of a pox virus, so I can only assume that the show's producers were too lazy to look. And the maudlin conversations on the burden of being a scientist--just spare me! They overestimate the importance of the scientist! The weight of the world on their shoulders? They'd have to share that with the principal investigator, the collaborators, and all the graduate and (if they're kind enough) undergraduate student-drones in their labs--that is, IF they can get the funding to start with! But I digress. Don't believe everything you see on TV, kids: biophysics isn't that exciting at all.

These two failed shows bring me back to the point that the era of great science fiction is behind us. Imagination and educated creativity have given way to the glamour of computer-generated graphics and Apple Store veneer (see photos from the new Star Trek movie). Think back to the Next Generation (how ironic!) and the X-Files. The dialogue was well written, the characters multifaceted, and the science--oh the wonderfully probable science! TNG taught me the meaning and value of humanity through interactions with the not-quite-human, and the X-Files gave me something to research on every week, from vocabulary to Bible verses to "rational scientific explanations." Even the music inspired me, and lift my spirits still, with the wonder and the promise that science offers in the betterment of mankind, both through expansion and through inward reflection.

Gone are the days of Captain Picard and Agent Mulder. --Or, perhaps it is I who have changed. Perhaps I now know too much real science that I have become the skeptic, the lame co-star on the show who rolls her eyes at the puerile albeit passionate pursuit of the ever-expanding edge of the unknown. I would very much like a return to innocence, if only I could suspend my belief, and distance myself from the nagging pains and discomfort of this cold and unimaginative reality.

Reflections on Training

It's difficult to believe that it's been more than a year since I started volunteering with Disaster Management, and even harder to reconcile with the fact that I am now at the supervisor level while concurrently teaching new volunteers as an instructor. I've been out on a deployment in Saskatoon, both worked and supervised in the call centre, and interviewed more than a dozen new volunteers.

Whither will all this lead? Certainly, it's useful experience, but will it help me get to where I want to go? How should I use these experiences to show who I have become?

The past weekend in Victoria was a blast. I had forgotten how good company and a sense of purpose can put my life in clear focus, while relieving the stress and confusion caused by lack of confidence. Yet again, I ended up the object of good-humoured teasing. Those crazy loons from the Island sure know how to make even disasters fun!

Throughout the course, I kept asking myself if there were anything else I could have done in Saskatoon, and in other situations brought up in the training. Take the drunk lady, for example. How could I forget to take the beer away? How did I miss Gary's (feigned, ...or not) attempts to pick her up? Even when I lay in bed last night, I was still thinking of all the mistakes and remedies.

It was then that I realized the power of the vest. As soon as I put it on, I became someone else. The bold and glaring red gave me authority and a sense of focus, drove away my fears of failure, and amplified my natural ability to remain calm and logical.

If only there were a Red Cross vest for all the things we do in life!

“It is unrealistic to expect individual nations to make, independently, the sacrifices necessary to conserve energy. International leadership and worldwide cooperation are essential if we expect to protect the world’s energy resources for future generations.”

Discuss the extent to which you agree or disagree with the opinion stated above. Support your views with reasons and/or examples from your own experience, observations, or reading.

****

From gasoline prices to heating bills, energy consumption is one of the hottest topics in politics today, both within a country and on the international scene. Individual nations constantly try to cope with supply and demand, while being mindful of what others are doing. Putting aside the political notion of countries and states, we cannot disregard the fact that we all live on the same planet, and therefore protecting the Earth--and our livelihood--requires international leadership and worldwide cooperation.

Individual nations cannot be relied on to solve the problem of energy conservation. The real problem underlying the world's energy shortage has always been the problem of commons: namely, a problem that affects everyone is not up to any particular party to resolve. It's always someone else's problem. This type of thinking makes it difficult for governments to persuade their own people to alter their long-established gas-guzzling behaviours. While a few eager European nations have spearhead the movement, North Americans are delaying the change for as long as possible, or at least until everyone else is on board. The Kyoto Accord suffered such a setback because the United States, a leader among nations, was hesitant to sign on to the cooperation, leaving the rest of the group with a feeling of injustice at their own sacrifice and futility of the entire treaty.

Relying on individual countries to make the sacrifice to conserve energy is not only an unrealistic expectation, but also a wasted effort because those countries that neglect that duty may offset the efforts of the diligent ones. Several progressive northern European countries have been active in reducing automobile usage, but at the same time, developing countries like China and India are increasing their gas consumption at an alarming rate. While more developed countries are exploring alternative energy sources such as wind and nuclear power, many still rely on burning coal. Without a multilateral agreement, the environmental impact resulting from these resource-wasting states who clearly do not share the green vision or cannot carry out changes will greatly undo any good the other, more environmentally conscious countries manage to accomplish through great sacrifices in domestic policies.

Natural energy resources are not renewable, and therefore are limited in quantity. The more our generation taps into and drains the reservoir, the less is left for our children, and the more they will have to struggle to cope with the shortage. Furthermore, since these resources are not distributed evenly across political boundaries, the dimishing supply and agressive demand of energy on this planet will have an even larger impact on our children's lives, no matter where they live. It is only through internationally collaborative efforts on policy, technology, and trade can we hope to manage what is left of the energy resources on which we are still vitally dependent.

Testing, Testing

In order to live up to the title of this blog site, I need to write a lot more. The following entries will be based on GMAT topics. I need to practise, the blog needs filler, so here we go.

I will endeavour to express my true beliefs in addressing the topics, which I will of course include in the postings. The quality cannot be guaranteed because I will be doing this in a strictly blogging style, i.e. no planning whatsoever, though grammatical errors are inexcusable, as per usual.

If you find the topics boring, please write to the GMAC; if you find the writing boring, please leave a comment as to the specifics.

Boston Legal

It must be the mixture of inappropriate humour and fast paced legal talk that so attracts me to this show. Right. There's also William Shatner and the somewhat odd but oh-so-brilliant James Spader. He deserved every Emmy he has received.

I like Alan Shore's style. (Are all these lawyer types full of annoying idiosyncracies?) I can't honestly say that I understand that character, because it requires tremendous effort to see through his bluffing--or perhaps emotional bulwark, I don't know which--and I just do not know what sort of a person he really is. But, I like his style. The passion with which he closes is something that I aspire to achieve, and more than that, to exercise, because I've always believed that I have the potential in me.

Why didn't I watch this earlier? It's already season five, which means I have about 80 episodes to catch up, totalling 60 hours. ...Astonishing. Perhaps I can work that into my GRE and GMAT writing preparation. --Ha! I should be rewarded for my ingenuity.

Moving on.

Passion really is the first thing that goes as we age. From first-hand experience I can tell you that I'm not nearly as engrossed in or devoted to my undertakings as I was even a mere two years ago, when I still had hopes and dreams; and from second-hand experience--here's the clencher--it seems that the departing of passion is only a symptom of a much more gruesome underlying disease:

Disillusionment. Disenchantment. Dissatisfaction. Disappointment.

What I don't buy is how Alan could react so well to Denny's little ego-boosting "pep talk." He was obviously resigned to the fact that no more progress could be made with the woman from whom he walked away. Well, that makes things easier: to recover when one is already cured. But how to make that first step? Must time and emotional distance be involved?

cause and effect

"Of course it was cause and effect, but in the necessity with which one follows the other lay all the tragedy of life." --Of Human Bondage, p. 365

Philip was lamenting Cronshaw's imminent death due to his liver condition, but his rather bitter observation carries more relevance than that in the narrative.Yesterday we bought a squeaky toy for Kayla, since all her other ones were broken. It consisted of a plastic squeaker encased in a soft, plushy pillow in the shape of a bone. She was overjoyed the moment she got a hold of it, and easily found the spot she needs to bite to get it to squeak. She ran around the kitchen happily, tossing and pouncing on the furiously chirping toy. Within an hour, she had broken the squeaker, and the toy became nothing more than a sopping wet cotton ball. A little discomfited, Kayla sought still that spot--any spot--that caused the toy to make that happy sound, but to no avail.

Watching this, I quietly mused, does she not know that if she plays with it too roughly, she'll break it, and then she'll have nothing to play with any more? --Of course not: she's only a dog. But is that understanding of cause and effect what separates man from beast? How many humans don't know the consequences of dangerous behaviours like drinking and driving, or even chronic drinking that leads to liver conditions and to death?

Losing faith (Archive: 2008-01-15 1:33AM)

The events of late have shaken my already-weakened faith in the world. For the longest time, I've held the somewhat naive but hopeful belief that most humans are mostly good and never seriously considered that there might be true evil in the world. Sure, there are characters in novels and operas, but even they deserve some sympathy--not to mention that I've always considered it a great depth in the arts where heroes and villains are multifaceted and therefore real human beings.

...And isn't art a mirror to nature?

Evil, as it turns out, is not so easy to define. To an ever-optimistic person, evil is akin to a tragic flaw and not at all a despicable quality. --Oh but Optimism is quite mistaken! There actually exist people who are completely devoid of any ethics common to the rest of the species, and who have never felt shame in lying and manipulating others solely for their own material gain.

I had the misfortune of dealing with at least two of these rotten apples so far in my life and have recently been almost irreparably disillusioned. Even for a time before this, I had been feeling the creeping darkness of the world closing in on me and grinding me down, but I fought to stay true to who I am.

I am a self-proclaimed Humanist.
I do not believe in God, the Afterlife, or any of the associated supernatural concepts.
I have faith in Man and Nature.
I trust that, even though today we may not be the best we can be, we are always striving to be better the next day, and the next one after that.
I vow that to understand others and to forgive them are the most important things I can do for others.

--But wait: what of all that? How many people actually think like that? Will that population be self-sufficient, or will they eventually be infected by the rest of the evil zombies? Bad people get away with so much, while good people pay the price by supporting those bums and still having to lock their doors at night. If you help others once, they will shamelessly expect you to give them allowances again next time; and if you fail to deliver, you will have lost more than what little good faith you had before the first act of kindness. How backward is that? How can the human race progress when the overall principle is a zero-sum game and every dirty trick is allowed and even rewarded?

What, then, can the few good people do? There is certainly no place to seek (this-worldly) justice. There wouldn't even be a place to complain if good people didn't have some sort of support network. But here's the real kick in the crotch: There shouldn't be retribution, because, as the saying goes, if we stoop to their level, blah, blah, blah....


Luckily, my hope hasn't been completely obliterated: as soon as the Hollywood writers are back to work I will have the wisdom of Grey's Anatomy on my side.

And all you bad people out there (you know who you are)...

...Go to Hell.

Wish I were elsewhere... (Archive: 2006-11-13 6:09AM)

Ever had one of those days--usually rainy days--when you just can't get anything done, and the only thing you WANT to do, if you can get past the guilt of not being productive, is to just curl up in bed with a good book, and read till your mind drifts elsewhere? Whatever happened to that simple joy in life? Why can't we just sit and read a good book any more?

Torrid biophysics love affairs aside, there really is more to life than all this LaTeXing. Seriously. If I won the lottery, I would just read. For starters, I'd finish Something Rotten. I bought it in the summer and haven't even flipped beyond the dramatis personnae--yes, there's a dramatis personnae, isn't that just so tempting? --But no. Not until Christmas.

Books will never betray you, unlike true love (whatever the bleep that may be), and certainly much more reliable even than science (which is, yet again, kicking me in the shins with a steel-toed boot). Books are solid and warm. They are always there and they always have time for you. They DON'T say you're pressuring or needy or misinterpreting, and obey YOU instead of the other way around. You don't need to wrestle with them--unless you choose to, and God help you if that happens--and all you need to do is to read them, feel them, and live them. Ah, the wonders of books!

It's not about escaping--oh, no; it's about readjusting, like pushing a reset button that takes anywhere from hours to days to reload and resume the original process, so that you have time to uh...regroup, and come back stronger than ever. Or something like that, you decide. But the point is, the world fades away while you've got a good book between your hands, two pet mice sleeping in a cage next to you, and a cup of freshly brewed Whittard's strong traditional Earl Grey. --If I had a million dollars.

So while I'm financially yet-to-be-secure and undecided about my future, books are on hold, even though they're like a drug to me especially when I'm neck-deep in compiling crap and waiting for somebody else's finals to be over. For those of you who are fortunate enough to not share my predicament, take heed and read!

Read, my friends, until the proverbial cows come home--or even the real ones, whichever take longer! Let not the burden of a non-descriptive world destroy your hopes and dreams! --Go forth now and read a good book!

When a good person dies... (Archive: 2005-09-24 7:41PM)

Another season of House so far off to a wonderful start. I didn't get to watch it until just now because I was out last night (happy b-day again, L.C.).


"Don't make friends with terminally ill patients."

?

Cameron's response to that is worth noting:

"When a good person dies, there should be an impact on the world. Someone should notice. Someone should be upset."

Good, decent people are rare now--indeed, those who survive the temptation to defect to the dark side of human nature are, to their eternal dismay and betrayal, subjected to scoffs, jealousy, suspicion, and other hostilities both overt and concealed. It is sad enough that society has fragmented under the guise and pressure of globalization, but it is a much more deplorable moral decadence on our part to add onto that the apathy of letting kind, patient, and helpful individuals pass us by without getting to know them, without acknowledging their laudable character, and without assisting them--since we ourselves are either incapable or unwilling--to contribute an ever-so-minuscule shred of hope to this otherwise pathetic existence. --Utterly deplorable!


And so, my friends, I urge each and every one of you to seek out, not new life and new civilizations, but rather extant albeit unsung heroes of our here and now--even right next to you.

They're crying out for companionship, for recognition, and for human contact.

Find them. Save them. So that they may save the world, one at a time, starting with you.

Or, let them stay obscured, lonely, worn down by this miserable world, and die without their disappointed whimper being heard by the blind, selfish, and callous drones.


quid pro quo