Ever since I read Snow Crash, I've been a big fan of Neal Stephenson. In my completely unbiased and judicious opinion, he has assumed the mantle of King of Cyberpunk, inheriting the title from William Gibson himself.
Stephenson's books are fast, clever, witty, and - most importantly - interesting to a random geeky reader (despite the fact that some of his cyberpunkishness is a bit dated, now). I've quickly devoured The Diamond Age and Cryptonomicon. On a whim, though, I decided to pick up a book that seemed, on the surface, to go outside the mold of geeky computerish books and enter a somewhat different realm: The Big U, one of Stephenson's first books.
I loved it.
Before picking this book up, realize that it's an early attempt of his, and the edges are rather rough. With that in mind, though, one can truly enjoy this book. It focuses on American Megaversity, an enormous, blundering, bureaucratic monstrosity that is encased in a single building. Stephenson follows the antics, pitfalls, and travails of university life over the course of a schoolyear, with increasing amounts of hilarity and insanity.
I read the book with increasing degrees of incredulousness... but oddly, the stranger the book got, the more it resembled stories I've heard or experienced about universities. Stephenson neatly lampooned the American university system, exposing its many flaws (well, he also implied many of its good traits, but books full of praise aren't funny, anyways). Furthermore, a book that at start seems unrelated to cyberpunk rather impressively turned into a full-blown geekfest. Trust me, it's worth the wait. *Grins*
I'm recommend this book to anyone who has already read some of Stephenson's later works, so that have something with which to compare it. *thumbs up*
31.8.04
24.8.04
Apologies - or rather, explanations
I have not posted lately as my computer's power supply rather unexpectedly crapped out. This lack of verbosity will be remedied within a few days, once a pressing presentation is completed and delivered. Please drop by for more erudition in the near future.
19.8.04
The fishbowl effect
There is a glassed-in computer room in the building where I work/have classes (the amazingly large and imposing Tech, for those of your familiar with my campus). It fronts on a frequently trafficked corridor, and one can rather easily see everything going on the room. There's a small sticker on the bottom of the window: "Creative Primates: Do Not Feed".
Amusing, eh?
I've gotten to thinking, though, after seeing that room and many other like it. Have you ever noticed that people working in rooms put on display like that tend to have odd work habits? At first, they are very self-conscious, constantly noticing that everyone walking by can see them, and often glances in their direction. But amazingly quickly, they begin to completely ignore the window in question. So much so that they never even glance at it - I'd be willing to be their brains have effectively edited the window out of their consciousness. The window (and outsider's scrutiny) no longer is even acknowledged.
I've seen similar phenomena at a large University of Michigan computer room, a fossil research lab put on display in the Field Museum, and many more locales. The behavior of workers inside is amazingly uniform with respect to their observers.
Psychologists must certainly have a term for it - since I am not one of them, I'll call it the "fishbowl effect".
This observation has caused me some consternation. It is so remarkably easy for us to completely ignore certain stimuli and observations without even realizing what we are doing. Is it possible that all of humanity is currently experiencing a "fishbowl effect"? I don't want to advance alien conspiracy theories (or, for that matter, religion), but this line of thinking led me inevitably to Isaac Asimov's absolutely wonderful short story, "Jokester", and Joe Haldeman's atrocious (yet interesting) "Forever Free". Have you ever thought that we are ignoring obvious realities, like lab mice in a labyrinth?
We can quantify our world amazingly well, and much of our society is based on the assumption that observation is fact. Granted, our interpretations of our observations might be incorrect, but most of us generally accept the input that our senses receive. [Parenthetically, one might argue that some current thinking posits that observation defines reality, but let's stay away from metaphysics, philosophy, and Schrodinger for now, eh?] It seems rather possible - nay, even likely - that we all possess undetected blind spots.
Well, one might argue that if we can't identify these blind spots, why worry about them? I feel that at certain times in humanity's development, certain individuals have managed to see beyond one of those blind spots - figurative or not. Societally accepted ideas, scientific "facts", paradoxes of the world... all have been overturned by visionaries. Visionary is an interesting word - it implies that they see something we do not. Perhaps each time that someone has lifted a corner of the veil (to steal a phrase) from the mystery that is... us, and our relationship with the world around us, these visionaries have really just exercised their minds creatively to see the window that was there all along.
This doesn't really have a point; I'm just thinking. I might revise this as I think some more on it. Comments and thoughts are of course welcomed.
Amusing, eh?
I've gotten to thinking, though, after seeing that room and many other like it. Have you ever noticed that people working in rooms put on display like that tend to have odd work habits? At first, they are very self-conscious, constantly noticing that everyone walking by can see them, and often glances in their direction. But amazingly quickly, they begin to completely ignore the window in question. So much so that they never even glance at it - I'd be willing to be their brains have effectively edited the window out of their consciousness. The window (and outsider's scrutiny) no longer is even acknowledged.
I've seen similar phenomena at a large University of Michigan computer room, a fossil research lab put on display in the Field Museum, and many more locales. The behavior of workers inside is amazingly uniform with respect to their observers.
Psychologists must certainly have a term for it - since I am not one of them, I'll call it the "fishbowl effect".
This observation has caused me some consternation. It is so remarkably easy for us to completely ignore certain stimuli and observations without even realizing what we are doing. Is it possible that all of humanity is currently experiencing a "fishbowl effect"? I don't want to advance alien conspiracy theories (or, for that matter, religion), but this line of thinking led me inevitably to Isaac Asimov's absolutely wonderful short story, "Jokester", and Joe Haldeman's atrocious (yet interesting) "Forever Free". Have you ever thought that we are ignoring obvious realities, like lab mice in a labyrinth?
We can quantify our world amazingly well, and much of our society is based on the assumption that observation is fact. Granted, our interpretations of our observations might be incorrect, but most of us generally accept the input that our senses receive. [Parenthetically, one might argue that some current thinking posits that observation defines reality, but let's stay away from metaphysics, philosophy, and Schrodinger for now, eh?] It seems rather possible - nay, even likely - that we all possess undetected blind spots.
Well, one might argue that if we can't identify these blind spots, why worry about them? I feel that at certain times in humanity's development, certain individuals have managed to see beyond one of those blind spots - figurative or not. Societally accepted ideas, scientific "facts", paradoxes of the world... all have been overturned by visionaries. Visionary is an interesting word - it implies that they see something we do not. Perhaps each time that someone has lifted a corner of the veil (to steal a phrase) from the mystery that is... us, and our relationship with the world around us, these visionaries have really just exercised their minds creatively to see the window that was there all along.
This doesn't really have a point; I'm just thinking. I might revise this as I think some more on it. Comments and thoughts are of course welcomed.
15.8.04
From the mouth of babes...
I actually don't know how that quote ends. Regardless, I heard an astonishing line from a twelve year old today:
"Evil exists to provoke the good in us."
I've always been a bit skeptical about philosophies regarding "balance" and the "necessity" of evil for good to exist. Yet it is certainly true that evil provokes us to combat it, and perhaps even do a bit more besides. The measure of a person is defined by how they react to the worst of the world; it often brings out our best and worst traits.
Just food for thought. I should have another post later today on an absolutely wonderful Saturday.
"Evil exists to provoke the good in us."
I've always been a bit skeptical about philosophies regarding "balance" and the "necessity" of evil for good to exist. Yet it is certainly true that evil provokes us to combat it, and perhaps even do a bit more besides. The measure of a person is defined by how they react to the worst of the world; it often brings out our best and worst traits.
Just food for thought. I should have another post later today on an absolutely wonderful Saturday.
13.8.04
Er... say again?
There's a rather odd and confusing ad on the train platform right next to my apartment that has been bugging me for months. It makes very little sense, and I see it every day. At first, I'd assumed it would be replaced within a month or two, but it's been up there since the winter. I think I'm beginning to go insane, slightly.
The ad is for one of the lastest MegaCitiCorpFirstThirdNationalCommercialFederal Banks. It consists of a single phrase: "Have your dollar bills been more places than you?"
I've been trying to puzzle this out. Are they trying to get me to travel more? Perhaps since my dollar bills have been lots of places, I'd like to go there, too. But the sweaty, dark pockets of a bunch of people (or dark cash registers) just don't seem like ideal vacation spots.
Is there something wrong with money that has been through a lot of wallets? It is worth the same as a crisp dollar, right?
Then I got to thinking that they meant it as some sort of sexual innuendo. Y'know, saying someone's "been around" can have certain connotations depending on the context. But I really can't wrap my mind around the concept of promiscuous dollar bills, or why I would care (or wish to emulate them).
I haven't switched banks yet. Perhaps this is just another example of my lack of marketing savvy.
The ad is for one of the lastest MegaCitiCorpFirstThirdNationalCommercialFederal Banks. It consists of a single phrase: "Have your dollar bills been more places than you?"
I've been trying to puzzle this out. Are they trying to get me to travel more? Perhaps since my dollar bills have been lots of places, I'd like to go there, too. But the sweaty, dark pockets of a bunch of people (or dark cash registers) just don't seem like ideal vacation spots.
Is there something wrong with money that has been through a lot of wallets? It is worth the same as a crisp dollar, right?
Then I got to thinking that they meant it as some sort of sexual innuendo. Y'know, saying someone's "been around" can have certain connotations depending on the context. But I really can't wrap my mind around the concept of promiscuous dollar bills, or why I would care (or wish to emulate them).
I haven't switched banks yet. Perhaps this is just another example of my lack of marketing savvy.
11.8.04
A Song of Ice and Fire
For several years, a number of my friends who are avid fantasy readers have recommended I read George R. R. Martin's A Song of Ice and Fire series. It's been touted by many as the best new epic fantasy.
A year or so ago, I was facing a long trip, so I picked up a copy of A Game of Thrones (aGoT) to see whether it was worth reading. I enjoyed it, but never had the incentive or time to pick up the next two books (the series is still ongoing; the fourth book, A Feast of Crows, is not yet finished). This summer, I had some free time, so I reread aGoT, and also grabbed the next two books, A Clash of Kings and A Storm of Swords (if nothing else, GRRM has some eye-catching titles). I just finished aSoS a day ago.
In general, I enjoyed the books, and found them worth my time. GRRM is a natural at character construction, building up fairly well fleshed out individuals that the reader actually cares about. I was sympathetic even to the so-called "evil" characters, a hallmark of well-written characterizations. His overall plot/story is also fairly engaging, and he has so far included some plot twists that I had not anticipated (for me, that's pretty good; I have a bad habit of guessing endings). Furthermore, it seems that he's put a lot of thought into constructing this world, as it is nowhere near as transparent as Eddings or Goodkind, for example. There are interrelations that are hinted at in various places, and when you read something later, you remember, "Oh, yeah, those people don't like these people because of that." The books don't match Jordan in the world richness or complexity, but I suppose that might be asking too much.
I'm certainly looking forward to reading through the end of the series, as soon as the books are published.
That being said, I had a number of beefs with aSoIaF. Most of them could be applied to modern fantasy literature as a whole. Perhaps the biggest complaint of all is GRRM's fairly idealized world. Although it's lovingly constructed, it's horribly cliched. The whole bit with noble houses, knights, kingly lines, and more. I feel sometimes like these epic fantasy authors believe that some fairy-tale version of England during the height of feudalism could endure for millennia in their constructed worlds. Fantasy does not need this nonsense to be fantasy - just look at Tolkein, Hobb, Brust, or Card. But authors tend to fall into the thinking that this type of "just-so" feudal structure is the only way to make a non-technological society, and it simply is not right (particularly as most authors combine this feudal structure with strong nationalism, which doesn't make any sense, at least from a historical viewpoint).
I also feel that GRRM has fallen into the trap that many fantasy authors do - a surfeit of superfluous information. His books are long enough as it is. Every other page, one reads a description (and name!) of various horses, or details on the armor/banners/appearance of various individuals, and many other unnecessary details. Descriptive writing is not inherently flawed, but taken to excess can ruin a good story.
Lastly, I felt at times that GRRM has at times added extra characters and plotlines that are essentially worthless. I've already seen some of them closed off/killed, and I could have enjoyed the books without any diminishment had I missed them. I simply don't need to know exactly what was the fate of a specific lord, or what happened to this or that minor plotline.
Those complaints aside, his books were certainly far better than the majority of fantasy being published today. I'd recommend his books to anyone who's a fantasy fan (those who aren't will likely find the flaws more glaring, if they don't know the competition).
A year or so ago, I was facing a long trip, so I picked up a copy of A Game of Thrones (aGoT) to see whether it was worth reading. I enjoyed it, but never had the incentive or time to pick up the next two books (the series is still ongoing; the fourth book, A Feast of Crows, is not yet finished). This summer, I had some free time, so I reread aGoT, and also grabbed the next two books, A Clash of Kings and A Storm of Swords (if nothing else, GRRM has some eye-catching titles). I just finished aSoS a day ago.
In general, I enjoyed the books, and found them worth my time. GRRM is a natural at character construction, building up fairly well fleshed out individuals that the reader actually cares about. I was sympathetic even to the so-called "evil" characters, a hallmark of well-written characterizations. His overall plot/story is also fairly engaging, and he has so far included some plot twists that I had not anticipated (for me, that's pretty good; I have a bad habit of guessing endings). Furthermore, it seems that he's put a lot of thought into constructing this world, as it is nowhere near as transparent as Eddings or Goodkind, for example. There are interrelations that are hinted at in various places, and when you read something later, you remember, "Oh, yeah, those people don't like these people because of that." The books don't match Jordan in the world richness or complexity, but I suppose that might be asking too much.
I'm certainly looking forward to reading through the end of the series, as soon as the books are published.
That being said, I had a number of beefs with aSoIaF. Most of them could be applied to modern fantasy literature as a whole. Perhaps the biggest complaint of all is GRRM's fairly idealized world. Although it's lovingly constructed, it's horribly cliched. The whole bit with noble houses, knights, kingly lines, and more. I feel sometimes like these epic fantasy authors believe that some fairy-tale version of England during the height of feudalism could endure for millennia in their constructed worlds. Fantasy does not need this nonsense to be fantasy - just look at Tolkein, Hobb, Brust, or Card. But authors tend to fall into the thinking that this type of "just-so" feudal structure is the only way to make a non-technological society, and it simply is not right (particularly as most authors combine this feudal structure with strong nationalism, which doesn't make any sense, at least from a historical viewpoint).
I also feel that GRRM has fallen into the trap that many fantasy authors do - a surfeit of superfluous information. His books are long enough as it is. Every other page, one reads a description (and name!) of various horses, or details on the armor/banners/appearance of various individuals, and many other unnecessary details. Descriptive writing is not inherently flawed, but taken to excess can ruin a good story.
Lastly, I felt at times that GRRM has at times added extra characters and plotlines that are essentially worthless. I've already seen some of them closed off/killed, and I could have enjoyed the books without any diminishment had I missed them. I simply don't need to know exactly what was the fate of a specific lord, or what happened to this or that minor plotline.
Those complaints aside, his books were certainly far better than the majority of fantasy being published today. I'd recommend his books to anyone who's a fantasy fan (those who aren't will likely find the flaws more glaring, if they don't know the competition).
10.8.04
Hehe, quote of the day:
On occasion, slashdot actually makes me smile. In a discussion today about downloading the WinXP SP2 file (some 250 MB) from M$ servers or from a BitTorrent, a certain user claimed that using the Torrent download was taking a load off of Microsoft's servers. In response:
"MS has more bandwidth than jesus."
True, in both literal and figurative manners. I've *never* had a problem with bandwidth in downloading stuff from Microsoft, even though they must have an astonishing daily load.
Though according to some, Jesus seems pretty leet. Maybe he does have more bandwidth.
"MS has more bandwidth than jesus."
True, in both literal and figurative manners. I've *never* had a problem with bandwidth in downloading stuff from Microsoft, even though they must have an astonishing daily load.
Though according to some, Jesus seems pretty leet. Maybe he does have more bandwidth.
Why I'm not in marketing
There's this nifty stuff we use to do low-level radioactive decontamination called No-Count. It's a surface decontaminant for first-level cleaning. Comes in a big aerosol can, and sorta comes out in this big white mousse-y like blob that you then wipe down your stuff with.
I was using it to clean up a small spill, then wondered what it really was. Turns out it's just a really good detergent, and the spray can just helps it really get into a surface. The stuff works wonders, cleans up fairly easily, and even smells nice (sorta lemony).
I got to thinking... why don't they market this for household use? I mean, it clearly is really good at cleaning stuff, and I'm willing to bet it'd get rid of lots of stains and such from surfaces. I commented about this to another lab member, and said, "Hey, they could even market it by saying that scientists use it all the time to even clean up radioactive spills! They would sell like hotcakes."
My coworker gently reminded me that only a complete idiot would market a product with the word "radioactive". In my fascination with how good the stuff works, I forgot the people are stupid. Oh, well.
But wouldn't it be cool if one could buy No-Count at non-laboratory prices in your local grocery store? (Said non-lab prices not having the automatic 200% markup that manufacturors add for the simple reason that labs can afford it.)
I would buy it.
I was using it to clean up a small spill, then wondered what it really was. Turns out it's just a really good detergent, and the spray can just helps it really get into a surface. The stuff works wonders, cleans up fairly easily, and even smells nice (sorta lemony).
I got to thinking... why don't they market this for household use? I mean, it clearly is really good at cleaning stuff, and I'm willing to bet it'd get rid of lots of stains and such from surfaces. I commented about this to another lab member, and said, "Hey, they could even market it by saying that scientists use it all the time to even clean up radioactive spills! They would sell like hotcakes."
My coworker gently reminded me that only a complete idiot would market a product with the word "radioactive". In my fascination with how good the stuff works, I forgot the people are stupid. Oh, well.
But wouldn't it be cool if one could buy No-Count at non-laboratory prices in your local grocery store? (Said non-lab prices not having the automatic 200% markup that manufacturors add for the simple reason that labs can afford it.)
I would buy it.
8.8.04
Marvels of engineering
During the summer, my apartment building gets festooned with spiderwebs on the outside. Sometimes I think the spiders are kinda stupid - some hardy soul occasionally clears off the spiderwebs, yet the spiders come back time and time again. *shrugs*
Anyways, for the last few days, a spider had had free reign over the top foot or so of the front door. All of the tenants have been either too busy, lazy, or arachnophobic to clear off the web.
What's been fascinating about this, though, is the amazing pattern of the ensuing web. I've observed that it has amazing symmetry, fairly even "web density per unit area", for lack of a better term, etc, etc. That got me thinking about how spiders would make good engineers - they face a fairly complex design problem, making a trap that conserves material yet is strong, is anchored well, and catches adequate numbers of insects.
When I looked closer at the web, I realized that the structures and patterns closely mimicked some structures found in human-engineering buildings. The base of the web formed an arch, and the rest rather remarkably matched some truss designs I've seen.
Upon further thought, I realized that spider web strands could be modelled as fairly perfect rods - next to no strength in torsion or bending, but lots and lots of strength in axial tension or compression, and very little mass of their own to factor into calculations. I'm sure that given a selection of anchor points (say, various locations on a door), a given "free" area where those big pink bags of mostly water (ie, humans) are not likely to break the web, and various other material/density constraints, one could develop a computer program to develop the best spiderweb design.
I wonder, would it closely match a spider's natural tendencies? I suspect it would.
Anyways, for the last few days, a spider had had free reign over the top foot or so of the front door. All of the tenants have been either too busy, lazy, or arachnophobic to clear off the web.
What's been fascinating about this, though, is the amazing pattern of the ensuing web. I've observed that it has amazing symmetry, fairly even "web density per unit area", for lack of a better term, etc, etc. That got me thinking about how spiders would make good engineers - they face a fairly complex design problem, making a trap that conserves material yet is strong, is anchored well, and catches adequate numbers of insects.
When I looked closer at the web, I realized that the structures and patterns closely mimicked some structures found in human-engineering buildings. The base of the web formed an arch, and the rest rather remarkably matched some truss designs I've seen.
Upon further thought, I realized that spider web strands could be modelled as fairly perfect rods - next to no strength in torsion or bending, but lots and lots of strength in axial tension or compression, and very little mass of their own to factor into calculations. I'm sure that given a selection of anchor points (say, various locations on a door), a given "free" area where those big pink bags of mostly water (ie, humans) are not likely to break the web, and various other material/density constraints, one could develop a computer program to develop the best spiderweb design.
I wonder, would it closely match a spider's natural tendencies? I suspect it would.
Definition of Chutzpah #5112534
The things I learn from speaking with grandparents.
I suppose if a professor has enough insolence to put up such an unanswerable question for a final, my great uncle had some right to throw it back in his face. But that move still took some chutzpah - and guts.
Someday, I want to be like him.
True Story:
My great uncle received a full tuition scholarship to Northwestern University back in the late 20s/early 30s... the complete $350/year. He took a fairly broad liberal arts curriculum, including some philosophy classes.
At the final exam of one of these philosophy courses, the professor wrote the essay question on the board: "Why?"
After a few minutes of thinking, my great uncle wrote down his name and two words, handed in the exam, and left. He received an A for the exam and the course.
Yes, you guessed it. His response was "Why not?"
I suppose if a professor has enough insolence to put up such an unanswerable question for a final, my great uncle had some right to throw it back in his face. But that move still took some chutzpah - and guts.
Someday, I want to be like him.
4.8.04
Tip of the Day:
Even though an emulsion of dichloromethane and saline containing radio-labelled DNA may sorta look like salad dressing, do not try to taste it.
The things I learn at work. ;)
I've been a bit busy lately; hence the relative sparseness of my entries. No worries, I've been thinking of a clever entry nearly every day, so I've got a bit of a stockpile. Never fear that I'll stop having odd comments.
The things I learn at work. ;)
I've been a bit busy lately; hence the relative sparseness of my entries. No worries, I've been thinking of a clever entry nearly every day, so I've got a bit of a stockpile. Never fear that I'll stop having odd comments.
1.8.04
Hah! I was right
Referencing my earlier post about the alleged evilness of librarians... Perhaps you should have a peek over here. Oh, it's probably registration-required. Either use bugmenot, or read a short excerpt:
[emphasis added]
See? Proof! Librarians secretly want to shoot all of us. Under that mild-mannered exterior, they secretly have plans to hoard all of the world's books into libraries, then read them all without any interference. Diabolical.
I may just be projecting my own goals in life onto these librarians. Someday, when I'm rich and ruler of the world, I plan on owning a library with too many books for me to possibly read in a lifetime. And I won't let anyone else use it. *rubs hands together evilly* MUAHAHAHA.
Ahem. I mean, I'll help youngsters learn to read, and I'll be a benevolent despot. Right.
Fugitive seized in '69 shooting
Gripping the right arm that took three bullets 35 years ago, former Chicago police officer Terrence Knox tried to explain his emotions after learning that the man who allegedly shot him had been captured Tuesday night in Toronto.
"I never thought this case would come to closure in my life," Knox, 56, said as he spoke to reporters Wednesday.
The case apparently came to a close about 8:30 p.m. Tuesday when Joseph C. Pannell (the name as published has been corrected in this text), 55, a former Black Panther on the lam since 1974, was arrested as he got into his car near the Toronto Reference Library in downtown Toronto, authorities said.
Pannell, who had been living under the alias Douglas Freeman, had worked as a library research assistant for the last 13 years, said Cpl. Tony Gollob of the Royal Canadian Mounted Police.
[emphasis added]
See? Proof! Librarians secretly want to shoot all of us. Under that mild-mannered exterior, they secretly have plans to hoard all of the world's books into libraries, then read them all without any interference. Diabolical.
I may just be projecting my own goals in life onto these librarians. Someday, when I'm rich and ruler of the world, I plan on owning a library with too many books for me to possibly read in a lifetime. And I won't let anyone else use it. *rubs hands together evilly* MUAHAHAHA.
Ahem. I mean, I'll help youngsters learn to read, and I'll be a benevolent despot. Right.
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