In my public health ethics class today, we briefly discussed the anti-bullying wristband campaigh aimed at modifying behaviours of bullies. Ironically, the campaign failed because kids who wore the wristband got beat up more. Even more ironically, they were bullied because the bullies thought the wristbands were cool and wanted them for themselves.
Which brings to mind a much beloved scene from the X-Files, a final conversation between Mulder and the shape-shifting monkey-man loser Eddie van Blundht in an orange cap that says "Superstar!" on it, at a prison facility:
"What's with the hat?"
"My therapist gave it to me. She says it's supposed to bolster my self-esteem."
"Does it?"
"Not really. The other inmates just beat me up and take it. Which would be ok, except every week she brings me a new hat!"
But seriously now. Kids, bullying is no laughing matter.
Wednesday, February 9, 2011
Saturday, November 27, 2010
Social Science is F*ing Retarded!
I have tried to keep an open mind, but I simply cannot tolerate this any longer and must rant and vent my frustration.
--These people don't even know how to count! Granted, most social problems are complex, such as this abuse and neglect of seniors business, but how can these so called "scientists" not even try to put some sort of structure in place to analyze the problem? It's as if they accept it as a nebulous and unsolvable concern and then immediately set out to find numbers--any numbers--to support their cause without having properly defined terms, conditions, context, scope... --Phone surveys, that's all they know how to do! The real kicker is that this so-called "systematic" review actually lumps everything together and claims that a single number summarizes dozens of studies in completely different contexts! "--Lo, the answer is... uh... 6%! Yeah... that's about right." --Idiots!
How can I do a proper assessment given these piss poor primary data--if you can even call them such? What they've found are obvious and trivial effects which even those of us with minimal reasoning ability can conclude with a bit of thinking, whereas the information we actually need never even crossed the minds of the researchers. Instead, there are a myriad of narratives, experiences, historical backgrounds that numb the quantitative mind and further complicate the problem instead of clarifying or resolving it!
Reductionist thinking is not demeaning to social problems, nor does it oversimplify if used properly. What's preventing these social "scientists" from applying the most basic logical models and structures to their pet problems? Is it the fear that the problems would crystalize and dissolve? Is it the subsequent petty fear that their lives and pursuits would appear foolish? Well, I guess the latter is perhaps justified.
That I had at one time thought I could study social science is simply laughable.
Fuck social science.
--These people don't even know how to count! Granted, most social problems are complex, such as this abuse and neglect of seniors business, but how can these so called "scientists" not even try to put some sort of structure in place to analyze the problem? It's as if they accept it as a nebulous and unsolvable concern and then immediately set out to find numbers--any numbers--to support their cause without having properly defined terms, conditions, context, scope... --Phone surveys, that's all they know how to do! The real kicker is that this so-called "systematic" review actually lumps everything together and claims that a single number summarizes dozens of studies in completely different contexts! "--Lo, the answer is... uh... 6%! Yeah... that's about right." --Idiots!
How can I do a proper assessment given these piss poor primary data--if you can even call them such? What they've found are obvious and trivial effects which even those of us with minimal reasoning ability can conclude with a bit of thinking, whereas the information we actually need never even crossed the minds of the researchers. Instead, there are a myriad of narratives, experiences, historical backgrounds that numb the quantitative mind and further complicate the problem instead of clarifying or resolving it!
Reductionist thinking is not demeaning to social problems, nor does it oversimplify if used properly. What's preventing these social "scientists" from applying the most basic logical models and structures to their pet problems? Is it the fear that the problems would crystalize and dissolve? Is it the subsequent petty fear that their lives and pursuits would appear foolish? Well, I guess the latter is perhaps justified.
That I had at one time thought I could study social science is simply laughable.
Fuck social science.
Saturday, April 10, 2010
Quick thoughts on HIV
So as I'm cramming for a final exam and finally catching up on the HIV lecture, something shocks me and makes me profoundly hopeless. It's not that I'm ignorant. I'd just never looked into it before but--have you seen the HIV phylogenetic tree? I mean, sure, I've always known that the mutation rate is high, but come on! I seriously thought the Congo tree was magnified.
How do we fight this thing?
Sunday, November 1, 2009
Causes I believe in
Finally getting some free time on my hands. I know! I'll use this to enumerate some of the causes I believe in.
Have you ever counted how many campaigns there are nowadays? Everything is important and deserves your monetary contribution. There's no end to the creativity of the Fund Development/Campaign Management think tanks either. You can support cops riding for cancer, wear a rainbow of ribbons to show solidarity to those in undesirable conditions, sponsor your friends to bungee-jump off a building wearing superhero costumes--I don't even remember what that one's about. Not to mention the classics: hours of malnourished kids in Africa begging you to join WorldVision, sad songs about abandoned puppies and kitties pleading with you through a kennel while wobbling from missing limbs. So you wear a pin covered in jeans, slap on a sticker that advocates for child literacy, cover yourself in pink to let people know you care about women's healthy breasts... --yeah, I know, it's starting to turn sour, so I'll stop. But you get the idea.
The campaigns are too effective for saps like me. I find myself feeling guilty to flip away from the channel with the dying kids, hanging my head in shame while walking past representatives of typhoon-striken south Asian countries, and getting the strange urge to defend myself for doing these horrifying and ignorant things: that I don't have much money myself, that I already contribute to science and health by working as hard as I can at the CDC and planning to go into public health, that I really do sympathize with those suffering from illnesses ranging from asthma and Alzheimers to prostate cancer and stroke, which is why, again, I plan to go into public health. It's just humanly impossible to care about everything, and so now, here, I declare what I do care about and am willing to support above other causes.
1. The International Red Cross Movement
This is, in my opinion, one of the greatest achievements of mankind. To have a global network based on humanitarian values of alleviating suffering is the epitome of everything I believe in. So I put in time and, when I can, money into the organization, and choose to train and lead, and to respond when I'm called upon.
2. UNICEF
Children truly are innocent--not in the moral sense, but simply because they didn't choose to be dumped in the situation they often find themselves. And, since they were born into it, the least we can do as adults is to ensure they don't suffer too much. There are many save-the-children groups out there, but I chose UNICEF because it's a UN program, and presumably can make more of a difference that does not depend on religious commitments. Not to mention the Global Parents program to which I make a monthly donation provides life-saving nutrition items.
3. Cancer
From time to time, I donate a small amount to Canadian Cancer Society and BC Lung Association. Both my grand-fathers died of cancer, and my dad's a life-long smoker. I just hope the scientists find something useful soon.
4. Climate change
I'm not a tree-hugger, I don't go out of my way to advocate for sustainability, and I can't afford a hybrid car. What I can do is simple things like reduce, reuse and recycle. I kind of like the Earth being a hospitable planet, and I wish it could stay that way. So, Pascal's Wager.
Have you ever counted how many campaigns there are nowadays? Everything is important and deserves your monetary contribution. There's no end to the creativity of the Fund Development/Campaign Management think tanks either. You can support cops riding for cancer, wear a rainbow of ribbons to show solidarity to those in undesirable conditions, sponsor your friends to bungee-jump off a building wearing superhero costumes--I don't even remember what that one's about. Not to mention the classics: hours of malnourished kids in Africa begging you to join WorldVision, sad songs about abandoned puppies and kitties pleading with you through a kennel while wobbling from missing limbs. So you wear a pin covered in jeans, slap on a sticker that advocates for child literacy, cover yourself in pink to let people know you care about women's healthy breasts... --yeah, I know, it's starting to turn sour, so I'll stop. But you get the idea.
The campaigns are too effective for saps like me. I find myself feeling guilty to flip away from the channel with the dying kids, hanging my head in shame while walking past representatives of typhoon-striken south Asian countries, and getting the strange urge to defend myself for doing these horrifying and ignorant things: that I don't have much money myself, that I already contribute to science and health by working as hard as I can at the CDC and planning to go into public health, that I really do sympathize with those suffering from illnesses ranging from asthma and Alzheimers to prostate cancer and stroke, which is why, again, I plan to go into public health. It's just humanly impossible to care about everything, and so now, here, I declare what I do care about and am willing to support above other causes.
1. The International Red Cross Movement
This is, in my opinion, one of the greatest achievements of mankind. To have a global network based on humanitarian values of alleviating suffering is the epitome of everything I believe in. So I put in time and, when I can, money into the organization, and choose to train and lead, and to respond when I'm called upon.
2. UNICEF
Children truly are innocent--not in the moral sense, but simply because they didn't choose to be dumped in the situation they often find themselves. And, since they were born into it, the least we can do as adults is to ensure they don't suffer too much. There are many save-the-children groups out there, but I chose UNICEF because it's a UN program, and presumably can make more of a difference that does not depend on religious commitments. Not to mention the Global Parents program to which I make a monthly donation provides life-saving nutrition items.
3. Cancer
From time to time, I donate a small amount to Canadian Cancer Society and BC Lung Association. Both my grand-fathers died of cancer, and my dad's a life-long smoker. I just hope the scientists find something useful soon.
4. Climate change
I'm not a tree-hugger, I don't go out of my way to advocate for sustainability, and I can't afford a hybrid car. What I can do is simple things like reduce, reuse and recycle. I kind of like the Earth being a hospitable planet, and I wish it could stay that way. So, Pascal's Wager.
Tuesday, October 20, 2009
Wisdom of Whores, Part 2
Here's a nugget from the book (p. 127) that made me both blush and grin at the same time, and on the SkyTrain, of all places. Just hope no-one was looking over my shoulders...
To quote my friend Claire in Istanbul, sex is about 'conquest, fantasy, projection, infatuation, mood, anger, vanity, love, pissing off your parents, the risk of getting caught, the pleasure of cuddling afterwards, the thrill of having a secret, feeling desirable, feeling like a man, feeling like a woman, bragging to your mates the next day, getting to see what someone looks like naked and a million-and-one other things'.
What fun it is to be an adult.
To quote my friend Claire in Istanbul, sex is about 'conquest, fantasy, projection, infatuation, mood, anger, vanity, love, pissing off your parents, the risk of getting caught, the pleasure of cuddling afterwards, the thrill of having a secret, feeling desirable, feeling like a man, feeling like a woman, bragging to your mates the next day, getting to see what someone looks like naked and a million-and-one other things'.
What fun it is to be an adult.
Wednesday, October 14, 2009
Wisdom of Whores, Part 1
As I made my way out of the SkyTrain station, some interesting thoughts arose from reading The Wisdom of Whores.
I'm surrounded by communicable disease epidemiology all day now, and public health follows me everywhere. It really is quite fascinating. It's not the kind of science that I'm used to--in fact, I'm still not sure if it's a science at all, strictly speaking. What I did realize though, was that perhaps I'm not really cut out for some of this stuff.
The book has proven very engaging so far, possibly aided by exotic and rather shady locales, the horrific subject matter of AIDS and an equally appalling but strangely curious cast of characters. Before I started volunteering with the Health Van, there was no way I could have even imagined such populations as described in the book. Sure, I've seen ...things... in movies, but they're so limited and commercialized.
The scents and sounds of a writhing darkness, the threat of disease and the urgency of desire flaunting themselves on every dimly lit street corner, all this is too much for my sheltered mind to process. --I would not last an hour in the frontlines of HIV/AIDS public health. I don't have the stomach for it.
Suppose I've been wrong, that I can't be both good and bad, kind and punishing, honourable and underhanded. That to delve into the deepest pit of human decadence, even just to collect scientific evidence, is to lose whatever good I have left in myself--and possibly more: whatever faith I have left for humanity. Could it be that there is no justification for sacrificing certain ethical principles for the greater good? Could what Franklin said about liberty and security be true?
I'm surrounded by communicable disease epidemiology all day now, and public health follows me everywhere. It really is quite fascinating. It's not the kind of science that I'm used to--in fact, I'm still not sure if it's a science at all, strictly speaking. What I did realize though, was that perhaps I'm not really cut out for some of this stuff.
The book has proven very engaging so far, possibly aided by exotic and rather shady locales, the horrific subject matter of AIDS and an equally appalling but strangely curious cast of characters. Before I started volunteering with the Health Van, there was no way I could have even imagined such populations as described in the book. Sure, I've seen ...things... in movies, but they're so limited and commercialized.
The scents and sounds of a writhing darkness, the threat of disease and the urgency of desire flaunting themselves on every dimly lit street corner, all this is too much for my sheltered mind to process. --I would not last an hour in the frontlines of HIV/AIDS public health. I don't have the stomach for it.
Suppose I've been wrong, that I can't be both good and bad, kind and punishing, honourable and underhanded. That to delve into the deepest pit of human decadence, even just to collect scientific evidence, is to lose whatever good I have left in myself--and possibly more: whatever faith I have left for humanity. Could it be that there is no justification for sacrificing certain ethical principles for the greater good? Could what Franklin said about liberty and security be true?
Friday, April 24, 2009
turbulence
Frustration is building inside me. It threatens to grow out of my bodily frame, and in the process of bursting out of its confines, promises to annihilate that which has harboured it. For weeks, this brooding evil, this unforgiving hatred quietly gathered strength from every injustice done to it, every unpleasant word, gesture, expression directed towards it, every error, however inconsequential, committed by it, until ultimately lashing out with a pitch-black brilliance, like a dark sun exploding.
It makes me want to scream.
With all the humanity inside, the hope, the optimism, the theoretical diligence--how is it possible that such horrid, insufferable pain has been brewing in me for so long, and for no good reason?
My words fail me. So does my reason. The two things which I proudly proclaim that I'm in possession of. My faculties are dulled, my dignity gradually stripped away. Even in the presence of praise and recognition, all that envelops me is reproach, dissatisfaction, fear.... They encircle me, grip me, and suffocate me, so that my heart flutters and chokes in the cold, dead hours of the night, jolts me out of my dreams, and collapses in on itself noiselessly with excruciating force, while I lie suddenly awake, dazed by this curiously foreign feeling that leads tears to involuntarily well up in my sleep-ravaged eyes.
And yet...
"This, too, shall pass."
It makes me want to scream.
With all the humanity inside, the hope, the optimism, the theoretical diligence--how is it possible that such horrid, insufferable pain has been brewing in me for so long, and for no good reason?
My words fail me. So does my reason. The two things which I proudly proclaim that I'm in possession of. My faculties are dulled, my dignity gradually stripped away. Even in the presence of praise and recognition, all that envelops me is reproach, dissatisfaction, fear.... They encircle me, grip me, and suffocate me, so that my heart flutters and chokes in the cold, dead hours of the night, jolts me out of my dreams, and collapses in on itself noiselessly with excruciating force, while I lie suddenly awake, dazed by this curiously foreign feeling that leads tears to involuntarily well up in my sleep-ravaged eyes.
And yet...
"This, too, shall pass."
Tuesday, March 17, 2009
Personalities and Pursuits (Part 1)
After much--MUCH--assessment and research into my own personality types and the subject matter in general, I think I'm finally close to a practical result.
Between the two kinds of colour-type tests and Myer-Brigg-Keirsey sorters, it seems that I've got a good grasp on both my personality and my behaviour preferences. I am a Red/Blue mix in the Colour Code (CC), and a Gold/Green pair in True Colours (TC)--that means I'm driven by power and altruism, and compelled by duty and competence. Results from MBK are a little more elusive, but that's the part that's interesting: the difficulty in settling on a type is what's troubling me in general.
It's too complicated to enumerate all the points and descriptions of these results, and in any case likely to be pointless. After all, data is meaningless without interpretation. Here now I will attempt at amalgamating and deciphering everything that I've found out in the past little while, in the hopes of identifying and repairing what's broken in me.
Why so unhappy?
Here's epiphany #1. If I were born as a CC Red--someone who is power-hungry and entirely committed to a goal without worrying about cost, how could I not be on the verge of pulling out my own hair if I started doubting my every decision? That's the difference between the Mastermind and the Architect. I feel like I've been forced to wait and explore other options because I no longer trust my own judgment. This has truly been my biggest challenge and my greatest fear: to be wrong, and to suffer the consequences. Worse yet, as a TC Green, I truly hate myself, and the TC Gold part of me that yearns for belonging automatically hauls me out from academia, because I've basically intellectually soiled myself, and the Green side will never let me forget that.
But what's the big deal with physics anyway? Sure, I value logic and intelligence, but there must be other fields that demonstrate wisdom and ingenuity without exposing my mutilated self-esteem to my obviously (--'cuz what else would they be?) derisive and critical peers.
Logically, there can be only two choices: either I demonstrate competence to myself, or I make peace with the fact that I failed. The former requires me to go back to exactly where I fell and try again to stand up on my own; the latter requires emotional detachment from the matter and finding another path where I will hopefully succeed. I'm taking a two-pronged approach, lest I repeat my previous mistake of putting all my grade-C eggs in one Biophysics basket-case. (--Boy, is THAT a mixed metaphor!)
I honestly don't believe I can't succeed. The more I did those tests, the more confident I became in my own abilities--those that I do possess, that is, and boy are they ever plentiful! Most people woul kill me and steal my brain to have that which I have, and here I am griping about how these god-given faculties are a burden to my progress!
I'm content as a Gold, but I'm really happy as a Green. Thinking back to the days and moments when I was truly enjoying myself, the activities at the time tend to be associated with those that Greens would find appealing. On the other hand, due to limited exposure to people and relationships, I hadn't quite developed my Gold colour, which leads me to believe that that color is the supportive colour, whereas Green is the dominant one.
Why did Gold develop?
I've always valued competency as a Green child, with competence and a sense of purpose, duty is a natural by-product. The other values evolved out of duty, I suppose. But the interesting part is security and the sense of belonging. In general, I'm not overly conscious of being accepted, because mainstream categories are, in my opinion, simply stupid anyway. However, with what I deem important--such as intelligence, ingenuity, expertise, perfection, truth, etc.--I silently crave approval and recognition.
Between the two kinds of colour-type tests and Myer-Brigg-Keirsey sorters, it seems that I've got a good grasp on both my personality and my behaviour preferences. I am a Red/Blue mix in the Colour Code (CC), and a Gold/Green pair in True Colours (TC)--that means I'm driven by power and altruism, and compelled by duty and competence. Results from MBK are a little more elusive, but that's the part that's interesting: the difficulty in settling on a type is what's troubling me in general.
It's too complicated to enumerate all the points and descriptions of these results, and in any case likely to be pointless. After all, data is meaningless without interpretation. Here now I will attempt at amalgamating and deciphering everything that I've found out in the past little while, in the hopes of identifying and repairing what's broken in me.
Why so unhappy?
Here's epiphany #1. If I were born as a CC Red--someone who is power-hungry and entirely committed to a goal without worrying about cost, how could I not be on the verge of pulling out my own hair if I started doubting my every decision? That's the difference between the Mastermind and the Architect. I feel like I've been forced to wait and explore other options because I no longer trust my own judgment. This has truly been my biggest challenge and my greatest fear: to be wrong, and to suffer the consequences. Worse yet, as a TC Green, I truly hate myself, and the TC Gold part of me that yearns for belonging automatically hauls me out from academia, because I've basically intellectually soiled myself, and the Green side will never let me forget that.
But what's the big deal with physics anyway? Sure, I value logic and intelligence, but there must be other fields that demonstrate wisdom and ingenuity without exposing my mutilated self-esteem to my obviously (--'cuz what else would they be?) derisive and critical peers.
Logically, there can be only two choices: either I demonstrate competence to myself, or I make peace with the fact that I failed. The former requires me to go back to exactly where I fell and try again to stand up on my own; the latter requires emotional detachment from the matter and finding another path where I will hopefully succeed. I'm taking a two-pronged approach, lest I repeat my previous mistake of putting all my grade-C eggs in one Biophysics basket-case. (--Boy, is THAT a mixed metaphor!)
I honestly don't believe I can't succeed. The more I did those tests, the more confident I became in my own abilities--those that I do possess, that is, and boy are they ever plentiful! Most people woul kill me and steal my brain to have that which I have, and here I am griping about how these god-given faculties are a burden to my progress!
I'm content as a Gold, but I'm really happy as a Green. Thinking back to the days and moments when I was truly enjoying myself, the activities at the time tend to be associated with those that Greens would find appealing. On the other hand, due to limited exposure to people and relationships, I hadn't quite developed my Gold colour, which leads me to believe that that color is the supportive colour, whereas Green is the dominant one.
Why did Gold develop?
I've always valued competency as a Green child, with competence and a sense of purpose, duty is a natural by-product. The other values evolved out of duty, I suppose. But the interesting part is security and the sense of belonging. In general, I'm not overly conscious of being accepted, because mainstream categories are, in my opinion, simply stupid anyway. However, with what I deem important--such as intelligence, ingenuity, expertise, perfection, truth, etc.--I silently crave approval and recognition.
Wednesday, January 21, 2009
Love and Loss
Amidst the inauguration of Obama, the melting polar icecaps, and the significant-to-nobody-but-me daily grind, where does intimacy reside?
We all want to be grown-ups, yet maintain and nurture that playful inner child. We want to be sheltered by the warmth that only those who truly love us can provide, and yet we are impatient to wriggle free of the seemingly stifling attention and make our marks on the world. In the process of this struggle, so often is intimacy lost, either taken for granted in a moment of petulance, or entirely overlooked as pressure from the outside world grinds us down. We must be exhausted, and lonely, to boot.
What does it really mean to be mature? Is it the ability to see the world for the harsh and cold place it really is? Is it being able to enjoy the company of a person to whom one is attracted, yet not push for a forbidden act? Is it having more questions than answers and to be content, or even proud in so doing?
Last night, Michelle and Barack danced as the world watched. For a few minutes, they could put aside the serious, almost grave business of running the still most powerful country in the world: that begins in the morning. For now, there's only the two of them. A promising leader, and his beautifully humble wife, in each other's arms, smiling at the victory, at each other.
We all want to be grown-ups, yet maintain and nurture that playful inner child. We want to be sheltered by the warmth that only those who truly love us can provide, and yet we are impatient to wriggle free of the seemingly stifling attention and make our marks on the world. In the process of this struggle, so often is intimacy lost, either taken for granted in a moment of petulance, or entirely overlooked as pressure from the outside world grinds us down. We must be exhausted, and lonely, to boot.
What does it really mean to be mature? Is it the ability to see the world for the harsh and cold place it really is? Is it being able to enjoy the company of a person to whom one is attracted, yet not push for a forbidden act? Is it having more questions than answers and to be content, or even proud in so doing?
Last night, Michelle and Barack danced as the world watched. For a few minutes, they could put aside the serious, almost grave business of running the still most powerful country in the world: that begins in the morning. For now, there's only the two of them. A promising leader, and his beautifully humble wife, in each other's arms, smiling at the victory, at each other.
Wednesday, December 3, 2008
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
...
***
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
...
Friday, November 14, 2008
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...)
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...)
Wednesday, November 12, 2008
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.
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.
Friday, November 7, 2008
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.
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.
Monday, October 20, 2008
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!
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!
Monday, October 6, 2008
“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.
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.
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.
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.
Tuesday, September 23, 2008
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?
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?
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.
...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!
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!
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