Dear Youth-Of-Today,
I know how much you like things to be fast and straight to the point, so here are some jokes that are just that - cutting out that awful wordy middleman...
How many US presidents does it take to change a lightbulb?
1
How many emos does it take to change a lightbulb?
0
How many surrealists does it take to change a lightbulb?
3
How many DJ's does it take to change a lightbulb?
10
How many Irishmen does it take to change a lightbulb?
100
How many Italians does it take to change a lightbulb?
2
Friday 25 January 2008
Monday 21 January 2008
Bad Graph Day
I believe I just had what is quite possibly the worst day for graphs I have ever had (or will ever have) in my whole scientific life. Check these beauties out.
Super-bonus points to anyone who can identify my area of research.
As it happens, while I was a-projecting today, creating the monstrosities before you, I was quite taken with the iPod Touch of a fellow research student. I spent an age fiddling with a particular game on it called Evolution RGB.
Now, it would almost be worth describing this game except that it is nothing more than the poor cousin of another game that predates it, which I came across one day on the Big Bad Internet.
The Falling Sand Game is really a series of Java applets, each containing a different set of tools and materials, such as (but definitely not limited to) sand, water, fire, plant, oil, wax, napalm and the enigmatic but annoying "???". There is no objective other than to create marvellous interactive sculptures - it is really just an advanced virtual sandbox. My favourite version even features little zombies, which you can bury in the ground and watch as they attempt to dig their way out.
Come to think of it, my graphs do kinda resemble zombie-battered shelves of wax.
The Falling Sand Game
Super-bonus points to anyone who can identify my area of research.
As it happens, while I was a-projecting today, creating the monstrosities before you, I was quite taken with the iPod Touch of a fellow research student. I spent an age fiddling with a particular game on it called Evolution RGB.
Now, it would almost be worth describing this game except that it is nothing more than the poor cousin of another game that predates it, which I came across one day on the Big Bad Internet.
The Falling Sand Game is really a series of Java applets, each containing a different set of tools and materials, such as (but definitely not limited to) sand, water, fire, plant, oil, wax, napalm and the enigmatic but annoying "???". There is no objective other than to create marvellous interactive sculptures - it is really just an advanced virtual sandbox. My favourite version even features little zombies, which you can bury in the ground and watch as they attempt to dig their way out.
Come to think of it, my graphs do kinda resemble zombie-battered shelves of wax.
The Falling Sand Game
Wednesday 16 January 2008
The Anti-Jon Story
It turns out, yet again, that happiness is a worthwhile pursuit. It has resulted in creativity!
Sctott and I were having a discussion a little earlier about a mutually disliked former acquaintance. His name is Jon, and for all his good looks, scientific prowess, grammatical flair and vast alcohol tolerance, he is an arrogant, disparaging, insensitive... person (RE my previous post: it's ok, I forgive him).
Jon likes to make known his written works, almost at the expense of others; he brazenly puts forward his efforts with the pretence of a self-deprecatingly modest genius ("Here's my submission to the magazine - I doubt it would make much sense out of the context of the book, but it's my best shot anyway. I'm afraid I can't come to the publication meeting.")
It so happens that Sctott saw Jon today, and within the context of literary creation too, as Jon was nosily trying to oversee Sctott's work on the aforementioned magazine, the society of which Sctott is the president. Neither Sctott nor I care much for Jon's work, reeking as it does of ostentatious self-assurance, since in the past he never cared to ever look at ours and pass any criticism, positive or negative. Thus it was decided that what we needed to produce was an anti-Jon story. This would be a story of Jon's made of antimatter, such that if he ever tried to get one of his stories near us again, especially in the context of a magazine submission, we would use the anti-Jon story to destroy it.
As everyone knows, when matter comes into contact with antimatter, both annihilate, resulting in a complete absence. As everyone also knows, antimatter has the property that it is exactly the same as matter except for a reversal of time symmetry. The effective result of this is that antimatter is regular matter travelling backwards in time. Obviously.
That's when we remembered that back in the first year Jon had had a sudden problem with one of his computer's hard drives and had lost a significant amount of his writing. And we realised that he lost it because our future selves had clearly written an anti-Jon story and sent it back in time. We had not written any such thing, however, creating the condition that unless we wrote an anti-Jon story there and then a time paradox would cause the universe to explode. So we decided to write one. The effort follows.
THE ANTI-JON STORY
by Me & Sctott, featuring the Housemate Third
All idiocies, grammatical or otherwise, are intentional (we promise).
Once abom a time (theabom was made of jelly and nitrogen and cumin and fire) there was a car-crash and it was really witty. The ombomniscient narrator died of StTurf maccarony. Therefore the story is therefore narrated in the 3rd person without a narrator. The story will be as deep as a ladies garter.
Won day, there wos a pirate whose name wos Won Jon Silver. He wos friends with a Jedi named Jobi Jon-Won Jon-Bon-Jovi Kenobi. I think we need speech marks now, "said the pirate." But not like that! Get them right, for Jedi's sake! "Ok, sorry" I'll stop now. "I should say so," said the pirate to me, "and stop speaking in the first person." Ok, the non-existent narrator will stop talking in the first person. And will stop mixing tenses.
Won Jon Silver and Jobi Jon-Won Jon-Bon-Jovi Kenobi were walking in a field when they saw a beautiful girl. She was cryin'. "What's the matter?" they asked.
"My dad is Bob Marley the Evil Rainbow, and he has forbidden me from being sarcastic and witty. I hope you like cryin' too."
"We don't," said the pirate and the Jedi, and so they left.
Sctott and I were having a discussion a little earlier about a mutually disliked former acquaintance. His name is Jon, and for all his good looks, scientific prowess, grammatical flair and vast alcohol tolerance, he is an arrogant, disparaging, insensitive... person (RE my previous post: it's ok, I forgive him).
Jon likes to make known his written works, almost at the expense of others; he brazenly puts forward his efforts with the pretence of a self-deprecatingly modest genius ("Here's my submission to the magazine - I doubt it would make much sense out of the context of the book, but it's my best shot anyway. I'm afraid I can't come to the publication meeting.")
It so happens that Sctott saw Jon today, and within the context of literary creation too, as Jon was nosily trying to oversee Sctott's work on the aforementioned magazine, the society of which Sctott is the president. Neither Sctott nor I care much for Jon's work, reeking as it does of ostentatious self-assurance, since in the past he never cared to ever look at ours and pass any criticism, positive or negative. Thus it was decided that what we needed to produce was an anti-Jon story. This would be a story of Jon's made of antimatter, such that if he ever tried to get one of his stories near us again, especially in the context of a magazine submission, we would use the anti-Jon story to destroy it.
As everyone knows, when matter comes into contact with antimatter, both annihilate, resulting in a complete absence. As everyone also knows, antimatter has the property that it is exactly the same as matter except for a reversal of time symmetry. The effective result of this is that antimatter is regular matter travelling backwards in time. Obviously.
That's when we remembered that back in the first year Jon had had a sudden problem with one of his computer's hard drives and had lost a significant amount of his writing. And we realised that he lost it because our future selves had clearly written an anti-Jon story and sent it back in time. We had not written any such thing, however, creating the condition that unless we wrote an anti-Jon story there and then a time paradox would cause the universe to explode. So we decided to write one. The effort follows.
THE ANTI-JON STORY
by Me & Sctott, featuring the Housemate Third
All idiocies, grammatical or otherwise, are intentional (we promise).
Once abom a time (theabom was made of jelly and nitrogen and cumin and fire) there was a car-crash and it was really witty. The ombomniscient narrator died of StTurf maccarony. Therefore the story is therefore narrated in the 3rd person without a narrator. The story will be as deep as a ladies garter.
Won day, there wos a pirate whose name wos Won Jon Silver. He wos friends with a Jedi named Jobi Jon-Won Jon-Bon-Jovi Kenobi. I think we need speech marks now, "said the pirate." But not like that! Get them right, for Jedi's sake! "Ok, sorry" I'll stop now. "I should say so," said the pirate to me, "and stop speaking in the first person." Ok, the non-existent narrator will stop talking in the first person. And will stop mixing tenses.
Won Jon Silver and Jobi Jon-Won Jon-Bon-Jovi Kenobi were walking in a field when they saw a beautiful girl. She was cryin'. "What's the matter?" they asked.
"My dad is Bob Marley the Evil Rainbow, and he has forbidden me from being sarcastic and witty. I hope you like cryin' too."
"We don't," said the pirate and the Jedi, and so they left.
(Un)Happiness
Today I have been thinking about what makes people unhappy.
I think the answer is insecurities.
People get unhappy when they are unsure about things. Most importantly, other people. I think any situation in which people experience a negative interaction is 99% likely to be based on a misunderstanding. After all, I guess it is impossible not to misunderstand someone to at least some extent when all we have is the slight, subjective slice out of some unknowable greater reality. That which we do perceive is cut down and coloured by our own experiences and capabilities: eyes see only the "visible" portion of the electromagnetic spectrum. Furthermore, biased eyes refuse to see anything but yellow (to paraphrase a paraphrasing, very popular with one of the most influential people I know).
The other 1% of negative interactions are fuelled by previous experiences which were built on what was 99% likely to have been a misunderstanding.
Misunderstandings proliferate freely and can breed insecurities, which can breed further misunderstandings. There is probably no immediate prevention for either of them. But people would be happy if there was a cure.
Is there a cure? A way to learn to be happy? I think so. I've been trying for a long time to keep myself cured, and for the most part the cure is successful. It would be wholly successful if it was permanent but, like everyone, sometimes I get sad. I believe with practice the cure can become permanent, at which point it is also the prevention.
I think the cure is acceptance. I do not mean acceptance in a resignatory sense: one is not "doomed to fate" but one can accept and understand one's own lot along with the almost limitless possibilities for change. This is the start of being able to cherish it if it is good, or change it if it is bad. Not everyone is in acceptance, however, and these are the people prone to insecurities and misunderstandings.
It cannot be expected that other people will learn to accept. Therefore if they behave in a manner fuelled by insecurities they must be forgiven, that is, accepted. When receiving acceptance they may learn to become more accepting themselves.
I hope that one day I will become permanently accepting. When that happens I will be like Jesus or Buddha, or some shizzle like that. Then let's have a party and be happy.
I think the answer is insecurities.
People get unhappy when they are unsure about things. Most importantly, other people. I think any situation in which people experience a negative interaction is 99% likely to be based on a misunderstanding. After all, I guess it is impossible not to misunderstand someone to at least some extent when all we have is the slight, subjective slice out of some unknowable greater reality. That which we do perceive is cut down and coloured by our own experiences and capabilities: eyes see only the "visible" portion of the electromagnetic spectrum. Furthermore, biased eyes refuse to see anything but yellow (to paraphrase a paraphrasing, very popular with one of the most influential people I know).
The other 1% of negative interactions are fuelled by previous experiences which were built on what was 99% likely to have been a misunderstanding.
Misunderstandings proliferate freely and can breed insecurities, which can breed further misunderstandings. There is probably no immediate prevention for either of them. But people would be happy if there was a cure.
Is there a cure? A way to learn to be happy? I think so. I've been trying for a long time to keep myself cured, and for the most part the cure is successful. It would be wholly successful if it was permanent but, like everyone, sometimes I get sad. I believe with practice the cure can become permanent, at which point it is also the prevention.
I think the cure is acceptance. I do not mean acceptance in a resignatory sense: one is not "doomed to fate" but one can accept and understand one's own lot along with the almost limitless possibilities for change. This is the start of being able to cherish it if it is good, or change it if it is bad. Not everyone is in acceptance, however, and these are the people prone to insecurities and misunderstandings.
It cannot be expected that other people will learn to accept. Therefore if they behave in a manner fuelled by insecurities they must be forgiven, that is, accepted. When receiving acceptance they may learn to become more accepting themselves.
I hope that one day I will become permanently accepting. When that happens I will be like Jesus or Buddha, or some shizzle like that. Then let's have a party and be happy.
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