After tomorrow, 5pm, if ANYONE ever mentions superstrings to me again (especially a non-physicist, but you crazy physicists take note as well) I swear I will beat the living daylight out of them.
*grmbl* Goddamn essay...
Goddamn word count...
Update: I've been in the library since 9 am. I've had a total of 90 minutes of breaks. Meaning I've spent 10 hours in the library. Now after loads of editing, rewriting, and chopping entire sections out of my paper, I now have about 500 words to cram in subsections about string theories and gravity, and some stuff about current research (maybe). Christ... I haven't even mentioned gauge-symmetry. This is such a crap essay...
Hours of reading, pages and pages of notes, and I still don't feel like I even vaguely understand what the hell this theory is about. The only reassuring thing is: neither do most of the people writing these papers, apparently.
I bet this essay topic was the lecturer's little sick joke to play on students.
Thursday, April 19, 2007
Brrrrrrr....
I find myself in an interesting situation. I came down to university this morning when the sun was out and the weather warm, wearing only a shirt and my trusty shades (yes, and pants, shoes, etc...), not really thinking ahead. It is now nearing 1.30am, it is dark out, and it is considerably colder than when I walked down this morning. The prospect of a 30 minute uphill walk in the dark, in the cold, is therefore not a very pleasant one. To make things interesting, I'm also torn between being reasonable and going home to get some sleep (and perhaps even make it to my 10am problem solving class tomorrow morning), so I can do some solid work tomorrow and wrap up this goddamn physics essay, on one hand, and the temptation to continue my caffeine fuelled procrastination binge in the Information Commons on the other... (in the hope that I might scrape a few more relevant paragraphs in). Either way, making good progress... should be able to finish this up tomorrow evening, leaving Friday morning for proof-reading and whatnot (bonus... got me a few more items to stick on the ol' bibliography).
In other news, why the hell do they have showers in a library? Showers and comfy sofas... maybe I can sleep here.
EDIT: Solution... take a cab.
In other news, why the hell do they have showers in a library? Showers and comfy sofas... maybe I can sleep here.
EDIT: Solution... take a cab.
Wednesday, April 18, 2007
You come to expect these things
It's funny how you're often less inclined to notice these little (and sometimes big) changes which make life different/easier/better, in some way or other, when they affect you, but cannot help but notice them when they are to be granted to others than you. In my case, the last few days are a double-whammy...
Beginning with the more recent event: during the departmental teaching committee today, the department announced the creation of third year project modules, which are research-only, starting next year (following the example of similar modules offered at the University of Birmingham). Some of the proposed topics are very interesting, and it's definitely the sort of stuff I would have been into. Then again, I'm not complaining about my current courses, which I'm very pleased with.
Further back, now (read: two or three days): the Information Commons (the new library/study centre for the University of Sheffield) opened recently, and I discovered it yesterday. It had been under construction for quite some time (read: a bit over one year), and as it began growing out of the grown like some postmodern concrete flower, over the past few months, I couldn't help but think it was going to end up being fairly rubbish (and to be frank, if you saw it from the outside now it's finished, you'd probably have the same intuition). However I was quite wrong. The interior simply rocks. It's luminous, spacious, well laid out. There are individual desk lamps and plugs on all the desks (which are quite large), there's a huge silent study room which is actually acoustically divided from the rest of the building (unlike the old library), and there are more digital screens and computers than you could shake a USB stick at. I've been using it for 72 hours, and I can't help but feeling (very slightly more) productive (than usual... which isn't much). So since I have a healthy amount of work to go through before the end of the semester (and indeed before friday... aaargh damn essay on superstrings), I have a feeling I'll like it here. Best of all, it's open 24/7, which is fantastic (what sort of library doesn't cater to the late-owl types who do their best work between midnight and 3am?).
Anywho, it's a bit of a shame to leave all this behind in September. Then again, I can't say I'll shed a tear for the rest of the city, and I presume St Andrews will be quite nice, both aesthetically and academically. So really, I can't complain (but I will anyway, being part french).
Beginning with the more recent event: during the departmental teaching committee today, the department announced the creation of third year project modules, which are research-only, starting next year (following the example of similar modules offered at the University of Birmingham). Some of the proposed topics are very interesting, and it's definitely the sort of stuff I would have been into. Then again, I'm not complaining about my current courses, which I'm very pleased with.
Further back, now (read: two or three days): the Information Commons (the new library/study centre for the University of Sheffield) opened recently, and I discovered it yesterday. It had been under construction for quite some time (read: a bit over one year), and as it began growing out of the grown like some postmodern concrete flower, over the past few months, I couldn't help but think it was going to end up being fairly rubbish (and to be frank, if you saw it from the outside now it's finished, you'd probably have the same intuition). However I was quite wrong. The interior simply rocks. It's luminous, spacious, well laid out. There are individual desk lamps and plugs on all the desks (which are quite large), there's a huge silent study room which is actually acoustically divided from the rest of the building (unlike the old library), and there are more digital screens and computers than you could shake a USB stick at. I've been using it for 72 hours, and I can't help but feeling (very slightly more) productive (than usual... which isn't much). So since I have a healthy amount of work to go through before the end of the semester (and indeed before friday... aaargh damn essay on superstrings), I have a feeling I'll like it here. Best of all, it's open 24/7, which is fantastic (what sort of library doesn't cater to the late-owl types who do their best work between midnight and 3am?).
Anywho, it's a bit of a shame to leave all this behind in September. Then again, I can't say I'll shed a tear for the rest of the city, and I presume St Andrews will be quite nice, both aesthetically and academically. So really, I can't complain (but I will anyway, being part french).
Saturday, March 24, 2007
Conferences, Journals and Whatnot
The upcoming BUPS conference I'm organising (thanks to a very helpful committee) won't be our biggest one yet, but it should be fun nonetheless. It was perhaps one of the more stressful ones to run, as it involves more personal preparation than the past ones since I'm writing the part of the skills talks (something I don't really feel qualified for, which is why they'll be more about general methodological concerns, which I hope will be helpful), and because this time of year is historically (i.e. from experience of the past years) a very busy time of year, and therefore not the best time to attract loads of people. It's also a time of year where I have a lot on my plate as well... Therefore I'm really looking forward to the conference itself (and the organisational break afterwards). Nothing quite beats seeing effort pay off (let's hope it does).
It's also an important turning point, as it's the last 'big' conference I'll be organising. All that's left after this is a summer conference, which will be a day conference, and an essay competition to run, followed by the annual conference, the preparation of which will be the job of the next chair (and for which I will offer my help, but only as a 'consultant'). This means that my job as chair after this will principally involve preparing BUPS for the shift in management, and ensure that it will thrive next year (and the years to come – touch wood).
It's crazy how quickly this year (and all of university, as a matter of fact) has gone by, but it's nice to note that the optimism that I held about the now-over-two-years-old project that is the British Undergraduate Philosophy Society hasn't proved to be too naive. We've done some good, solid work this year, thanks to the toil of the committee, and ran an increased number of conferences, expanded membership, built the foundations for next year's committee, and several other things... The realisation that it's almost all over, along with undergraduate life as a whole, is a fairly strange feeling. I suppose all one can do at this point is hope that both the society and my academic life fare well in the coming year(s), and reflect back upon what I've gained from it.
These past seven months have been a bumpy ride, with moments of doubt, a few sleepless nights, and some really good times to balance things out. I don't think I would have expected things to get so complicated so quickly, a few years back. On the other hand, I'd be hard pressed to claim I regretted any of it: the organisational stress applied by the running of this society and its events, in conjunction with the workload of a third year, have been higher than what I've experienced in my life, but there is no doubt that the skills I've acquired along the way (in keeping track of so many factors, so many deadlines, and so much correspondence), and the mere fact that I've survived it all with my sanity and nerves left (mostly) untouched, are all in all quite a reward, and will come in useful during the next few years as I face increasingly higher workloads and pressure from the academic environment.
But more than all that, I now know that I can safely face the next person to tell me that philosophy is all about dawdling about, smoking joints, and asking "Why?", and kick him in the face.
Peace out.
It's also an important turning point, as it's the last 'big' conference I'll be organising. All that's left after this is a summer conference, which will be a day conference, and an essay competition to run, followed by the annual conference, the preparation of which will be the job of the next chair (and for which I will offer my help, but only as a 'consultant'). This means that my job as chair after this will principally involve preparing BUPS for the shift in management, and ensure that it will thrive next year (and the years to come – touch wood).
It's crazy how quickly this year (and all of university, as a matter of fact) has gone by, but it's nice to note that the optimism that I held about the now-over-two-years-old project that is the British Undergraduate Philosophy Society hasn't proved to be too naive. We've done some good, solid work this year, thanks to the toil of the committee, and ran an increased number of conferences, expanded membership, built the foundations for next year's committee, and several other things... The realisation that it's almost all over, along with undergraduate life as a whole, is a fairly strange feeling. I suppose all one can do at this point is hope that both the society and my academic life fare well in the coming year(s), and reflect back upon what I've gained from it.
These past seven months have been a bumpy ride, with moments of doubt, a few sleepless nights, and some really good times to balance things out. I don't think I would have expected things to get so complicated so quickly, a few years back. On the other hand, I'd be hard pressed to claim I regretted any of it: the organisational stress applied by the running of this society and its events, in conjunction with the workload of a third year, have been higher than what I've experienced in my life, but there is no doubt that the skills I've acquired along the way (in keeping track of so many factors, so many deadlines, and so much correspondence), and the mere fact that I've survived it all with my sanity and nerves left (mostly) untouched, are all in all quite a reward, and will come in useful during the next few years as I face increasingly higher workloads and pressure from the academic environment.
But more than all that, I now know that I can safely face the next person to tell me that philosophy is all about dawdling about, smoking joints, and asking "Why?", and kick him in the face.
Peace out.
Thursday, March 15, 2007
You wouldn't expect it...
I more or less recently ran into a charming display of 'absentmindedness' on the part of the type of person you'd least expect to write something so trivially wrong, or at least you'd think that he would ask someone to double-check the work in question before tagging his name on it.
Consider the following article: Writing Descartes: I Am, and I Can Think, Therefore ... by one Professor Paul Grobstein, Harvard grad, Harvard PhD, and impressive academic record in the field of biology. The man is clearly an intelligent fellow, and thus possibly the last person you'd expect to produce the following pearl of wisdom as an argument against Cartesian Skepticism (emphasis mine):
He then goes on to make some potentially interesting comments about scepticism, which unfortunately here stem from this initial assumption that 'Descartes got it wrong' (I don't argue that he didn't, but certainly not on these grounds). And while these comments are not necessarily without merit or value (were they to be made independently of talk about what Professor Grobstein thinks is Descartes' position), his initial critique of Descartes' cogito is horrendously wrong.
Consider the general form of a syllogism:
Premise 1: If P, then Q
Premise 2: P
Conclusion: Q
Now here's basically what Professor Grobstein believes Descartes' cogito to entail (and what he criticises):
Premise 1: If P, then Q
Premise 2: Not P
Conclusion: Not Q
Now, any ol' undergraduate having done a very basic introduction to logic will tell you that the logical statement 'P therefore Q' is false if and only if P is true while Q is false. This is to say that 'P therefore Q' is perfectly true if P is false, but Q is true. Professor Grobstein is thus committing a basic non-sequitur in claiming that 'P therefore Q' entails '(Not P) therefore (Not Q)'. It would be a valid entailment if Descartes had said something mapping to the logical statement 'P if and only if Q', but as Descartes did not in any way say "I think if and only if I am" (or vice-versa... it doesn't really matter), Professor Grobstein doesn't really have a leg to stand on for his argument.
It just goes to show: when shopping around for academic wisdom, caveat emptor.
Of course, this isn't exactly a published paper, just an open letter on his website. Still, it does not excuse the need for a bit of peer-review (I'm sure he could have nabbed a first year computer scientist, or a philosophy student), so as to avoid slightly embarrassing, simple mistakes such as this one.
To conclude, I do not wish to give the impression that I claim non-philosophers (and specifically scientists) should stay away from philosophy. If anything, one should encourage them to practise it. Nonetheless, if you're going to go up against a central, well-known position of philosophy (and by all means, please do!), at least make sure your argument doesn't fall apart because of some trivial misunderstanding of logic.
Consider the following article: Writing Descartes: I Am, and I Can Think, Therefore ... by one Professor Paul Grobstein, Harvard grad, Harvard PhD, and impressive academic record in the field of biology. The man is clearly an intelligent fellow, and thus possibly the last person you'd expect to produce the following pearl of wisdom as an argument against Cartesian Skepticism (emphasis mine):
Your phrase "I think, therefore I am" needs some correcting. I think I understand what you had in mind: the need to find a solid footing for ongoing inquiry. And I very much admire your posture of profound skepticism, with its associated reluctance to take not only "revealed truth" and authority but also logic and sense data as an assured starting point. It does seem to me though that you (or, more likely, others since you) took a good idea too far (as happened with your mind/body distinction, see Descartes' Error). Or, maybe, it wasn't taken far enough.
Here's the thing. Trees are. And they don't "think". So you can't have meant to say that things in general have to think in order to be. That would be contradicted by trees and other things (rocks, desks, etc) that you certainly knew about.
He then goes on to make some potentially interesting comments about scepticism, which unfortunately here stem from this initial assumption that 'Descartes got it wrong' (I don't argue that he didn't, but certainly not on these grounds). And while these comments are not necessarily without merit or value (were they to be made independently of talk about what Professor Grobstein thinks is Descartes' position), his initial critique of Descartes' cogito is horrendously wrong.
Consider the general form of a syllogism:
Premise 1: If P, then Q
Premise 2: P
Conclusion: Q
Now here's basically what Professor Grobstein believes Descartes' cogito to entail (and what he criticises):
Premise 1: If P, then Q
Premise 2: Not P
Conclusion: Not Q
Now, any ol' undergraduate having done a very basic introduction to logic will tell you that the logical statement 'P therefore Q' is false if and only if P is true while Q is false. This is to say that 'P therefore Q' is perfectly true if P is false, but Q is true. Professor Grobstein is thus committing a basic non-sequitur in claiming that 'P therefore Q' entails '(Not P) therefore (Not Q)'. It would be a valid entailment if Descartes had said something mapping to the logical statement 'P if and only if Q', but as Descartes did not in any way say "I think if and only if I am" (or vice-versa... it doesn't really matter), Professor Grobstein doesn't really have a leg to stand on for his argument.
It just goes to show: when shopping around for academic wisdom, caveat emptor.
Of course, this isn't exactly a published paper, just an open letter on his website. Still, it does not excuse the need for a bit of peer-review (I'm sure he could have nabbed a first year computer scientist, or a philosophy student), so as to avoid slightly embarrassing, simple mistakes such as this one.
To conclude, I do not wish to give the impression that I claim non-philosophers (and specifically scientists) should stay away from philosophy. If anything, one should encourage them to practise it. Nonetheless, if you're going to go up against a central, well-known position of philosophy (and by all means, please do!), at least make sure your argument doesn't fall apart because of some trivial misunderstanding of logic.
Wednesday, March 14, 2007
My Bonnie lies over the ocean
I got my offer from St Andrews today, to study for a M.Litt in philosophy. Had some champagne to celebrate the fact that I'm moving to the middle of nowhere, where it'll surely be even rainier and colder than it is here...
... but somehow I'm very happy about it.
... but somehow I'm very happy about it.
Thursday, December 28, 2006
Woohoo!
Rock on! After what is possibly the shoddiest endgame ever, I have managed to beat the Sigma Chess program with the following game:
1. e4 Nc6
2. d3 Nf6
3. Nc3 d5
4. d4 Bg4
5. f3 Nxe4
6. Nxe4 Bf5
7. Nc3 e5
8. dxe5 Qh4+
9. g3 Qh5
10. g4 Qh4+
11. Ke2 Bb4
12. gxf5 Qc4+
13. Qd3 Nd4+
14. Kd1 Nxf5
15. Qxc4 dxc4
16. Bxc4 Rd8+
17. Ke2 Nd4+
18. Kf2 Bxc3
19. bxc3 Nxc2
20.Rb1 Rd1
21. Kg2 Ne1+
22. Kf2 Nc2
23. Ke2 Re1+
24. Kd2 a5
25. Kxc2 O-O
26. e6 h6
27. exf7+ Rxf7
28. Rxb7 a4
29. Bxf7+ Kxf7
30. Rxc7+ Kf6
31. Bd2 Rf1
32. Rc6+ Kf5
33. Rc5+ Kf6
34. Rc6+ Kf5
35. c4 g5
36. c5 a3
37. Rd6 Ra1
38. Bc3 Rxa2+
39. Kd3 g4
40. fxg4+ Kxg4
41. Rg6+ Kh5
42. Rf6 Rg2
43. Rf5+ Kg6
44. Rf6+ Kh5
45. Nh3 a2
46. Bd4 Rd2+
47. Ke4 Re2+
48. Kd5 Re5+
49. Bxe5 Kg4
50. Ra1 Kxh3
51. Rxa2 Kg4
52. Ra3 Kg5
53. c6 Kh5
54. c7 Kg5
55. c8=Q Kh4
56. Qc4+ Kg5
57. Qf4+ Kh5
58. Rh3# 1-0
That probably could have ended 10 moves earlier...
Anyway, this may not seem like much, but given it's got the best of me for the past 80 tries (and I'm not that bad), this is a bit of a personal victory.
Next up: Deep Blue!
*cutscene: Ed getting his ass whipped in 10 moves* How'd that happen?
I should probably get back to working on my dissertation...
Addendum:
HOHOHO AND AGAIN!
1. e3 Nf6
2. d4 b6
3. b3 Bb7
4. Ba3 e6
5. b4 Be7
6. b5 Bxg2
7. Bxg2 Nc6
8. bxc6 Bxa3
9. Nxa3 d5
10. e4 dxe4
11. Nb5 O-O
12. f3 a6
13. Nc3 Qd6
14. Rb1 e3
15. Ne4 Nxe4
16. fxe4 Qxc6
17. d5 exd5
18. exd5 Qg6
19. Qf3 Qxc2
20. Rd1 Qxa2
21. Qe2 Qa5+
22. Kf1 Rfe8
23. Nf3 Qc3
24. Qd3 e2+
25. Kf2 Qc5+
26. Qd4 Qxd5
27. Qxd5 c6
28. Qxc6 Rac8
29. Qxb6 Rc1
30. Rxc1 h6
31. Qc6 Kh7
32. Qxe8 Kg6
33. Qe4+ f5
34. Qe6+ Kh5
35. Qxf5+ g5
36. Qf7+ Kg4
37. Qg6 e1=Q+
38. Nxe1 Kh4
39. Nf3+ Kg4
40. Qxh6 Kf5
41. Qxg5+ Ke4
42. Rcd1 a5
43. Qe5# 1-0
In just over 6 minutes this time, and using a transpositional opening (variant on Kasparov's 1994 opening move). Worked out okay, although once again, a bit of sloppiness here and there.
1. e4 Nc6
2. d3 Nf6
3. Nc3 d5
4. d4 Bg4
5. f3 Nxe4
6. Nxe4 Bf5
7. Nc3 e5
8. dxe5 Qh4+
9. g3 Qh5
10. g4 Qh4+
11. Ke2 Bb4
12. gxf5 Qc4+
13. Qd3 Nd4+
14. Kd1 Nxf5
15. Qxc4 dxc4
16. Bxc4 Rd8+
17. Ke2 Nd4+
18. Kf2 Bxc3
19. bxc3 Nxc2
20.Rb1 Rd1
21. Kg2 Ne1+
22. Kf2 Nc2
23. Ke2 Re1+
24. Kd2 a5
25. Kxc2 O-O
26. e6 h6
27. exf7+ Rxf7
28. Rxb7 a4
29. Bxf7+ Kxf7
30. Rxc7+ Kf6
31. Bd2 Rf1
32. Rc6+ Kf5
33. Rc5+ Kf6
34. Rc6+ Kf5
35. c4 g5
36. c5 a3
37. Rd6 Ra1
38. Bc3 Rxa2+
39. Kd3 g4
40. fxg4+ Kxg4
41. Rg6+ Kh5
42. Rf6 Rg2
43. Rf5+ Kg6
44. Rf6+ Kh5
45. Nh3 a2
46. Bd4 Rd2+
47. Ke4 Re2+
48. Kd5 Re5+
49. Bxe5 Kg4
50. Ra1 Kxh3
51. Rxa2 Kg4
52. Ra3 Kg5
53. c6 Kh5
54. c7 Kg5
55. c8=Q Kh4
56. Qc4+ Kg5
57. Qf4+ Kh5
58. Rh3# 1-0
That probably could have ended 10 moves earlier...
Anyway, this may not seem like much, but given it's got the best of me for the past 80 tries (and I'm not that bad), this is a bit of a personal victory.
Next up: Deep Blue!
*cutscene: Ed getting his ass whipped in 10 moves* How'd that happen?
I should probably get back to working on my dissertation...
Addendum:
HOHOHO AND AGAIN!
1. e3 Nf6
2. d4 b6
3. b3 Bb7
4. Ba3 e6
5. b4 Be7
6. b5 Bxg2
7. Bxg2 Nc6
8. bxc6 Bxa3
9. Nxa3 d5
10. e4 dxe4
11. Nb5 O-O
12. f3 a6
13. Nc3 Qd6
14. Rb1 e3
15. Ne4 Nxe4
16. fxe4 Qxc6
17. d5 exd5
18. exd5 Qg6
19. Qf3 Qxc2
20. Rd1 Qxa2
21. Qe2 Qa5+
22. Kf1 Rfe8
23. Nf3 Qc3
24. Qd3 e2+
25. Kf2 Qc5+
26. Qd4 Qxd5
27. Qxd5 c6
28. Qxc6 Rac8
29. Qxb6 Rc1
30. Rxc1 h6
31. Qc6 Kh7
32. Qxe8 Kg6
33. Qe4+ f5
34. Qe6+ Kh5
35. Qxf5+ g5
36. Qf7+ Kg4
37. Qg6 e1=Q+
38. Nxe1 Kh4
39. Nf3+ Kg4
40. Qxh6 Kf5
41. Qxg5+ Ke4
42. Rcd1 a5
43. Qe5# 1-0
In just over 6 minutes this time, and using a transpositional opening (variant on Kasparov's 1994 opening move). Worked out okay, although once again, a bit of sloppiness here and there.
Sunday, November 19, 2006
A man's home is his castle, but it shouldn't have to be a fortress...
Christ, man... is no home safe? Sorry if, with this post, my blog falls into the "daily rant about my daily day" style, but this is a bit out of the ordinary.
I was sitting in my room, looking at the wikipedia article for mereology (go figure) when I hear footsteps coming up the stairs, and the door handle rattle. Assuming it was one of my housemates, I turned around to find myself face to face with a short northern man in his mid-30s, seemingly the same scum you'd expect to see in Coronation Street or rubbish like that, with short dark hair looking at me. He quickly exclaimed "Just lookin' 'round", closed the door, and promptly legged it. It took me a few seconds to come to my senses and realise what was happening, so I took a pair scissors (which was pretty stupid given there's a freaking battle-axe in the room across the landing), checked each room as I headed down, and checked the ground floor. Naturally, by the time I got down there, the bugger was long gone, along with Jez, Mike and Liam's laptops. Fortunately, he didn't take anything else, but it must really suck for them, seeing how their work wasn't backed up.
I shudder to think it could have been mine, along with all the conference organisation documents, that had been stolen. Time to back up everything (twice)...
I was sitting in my room, looking at the wikipedia article for mereology (go figure) when I hear footsteps coming up the stairs, and the door handle rattle. Assuming it was one of my housemates, I turned around to find myself face to face with a short northern man in his mid-30s, seemingly the same scum you'd expect to see in Coronation Street or rubbish like that, with short dark hair looking at me. He quickly exclaimed "Just lookin' 'round", closed the door, and promptly legged it. It took me a few seconds to come to my senses and realise what was happening, so I took a pair scissors (which was pretty stupid given there's a freaking battle-axe in the room across the landing), checked each room as I headed down, and checked the ground floor. Naturally, by the time I got down there, the bugger was long gone, along with Jez, Mike and Liam's laptops. Fortunately, he didn't take anything else, but it must really suck for them, seeing how their work wasn't backed up.
I shudder to think it could have been mine, along with all the conference organisation documents, that had been stolen. Time to back up everything (twice)...
Wednesday, November 15, 2006
A word of warning
A word of warning to you all. This is a neighbourhood watch announcement.
A group of suspicious looking people are walking around town, asking people if they had found Jesus. I've experienced this myself, and it prompted me to write this warning.
They can be dressed just like you and me, and appear to be innocent bystanders, but their motives are all too clear: they are looking for Jesus. What had Jesus done? Why is he hiding? To these questions, the offer only vague answers. No doubt to mask their true intentions, and throw the authorities off the trail.
So be vigilant, and beware. If you know where Jesus is, do not - I repeat - do NOT disclose his location to anyone asking for him. Also, please notify him that people are looking for him, they are wearing crosses around their necks (perhaps a cult sign, and a morbid indication of their intentions once they have "found" Jesus), and that they may be up to no good.
This was your friendly neighbourhood watch announcement. Stick together, people.
A group of suspicious looking people are walking around town, asking people if they had found Jesus. I've experienced this myself, and it prompted me to write this warning.
They can be dressed just like you and me, and appear to be innocent bystanders, but their motives are all too clear: they are looking for Jesus. What had Jesus done? Why is he hiding? To these questions, the offer only vague answers. No doubt to mask their true intentions, and throw the authorities off the trail.
So be vigilant, and beware. If you know where Jesus is, do not - I repeat - do NOT disclose his location to anyone asking for him. Also, please notify him that people are looking for him, they are wearing crosses around their necks (perhaps a cult sign, and a morbid indication of their intentions once they have "found" Jesus), and that they may be up to no good.
This was your friendly neighbourhood watch announcement. Stick together, people.
Tuesday, November 07, 2006
A matter of qualification
I believe a defining characteristic one must possess to enter the academic world is a certain type of organisational insanity. It's not the sort that's necessarily socially noticeable (although in some cases, like maths professors walking around with a trout tied to their hats, it definitely is hard to miss), but rather of the sort that pops up in conversation. To word it more precisely, I believe it is the ability to be lost in a tangent, be it conversational or conceptual (as applied to vestimentary taste, in the case of the fish-donning mathematician), and to actually forget how one got there in the first place.
I'd like to clarify that I am not just positing this for kicks: it is a thesis derived from empirical observation (try it yourself: you just need to have a 40+ minute conversation with a professor). Furthermore, it seems to increase with age (I assume this is because it is a decay which begins the day one gets one's PhD/DPhil, and things go downhill from there).
Perhaps there is some evolutionary justification for the maintenance society provides for this ever-continuing loop of folly, from thesis to teaching to training the tangential tricksters of tomorrow (couldn't resist)... Perhaps there is something you can only find, you can only discover while on a tangent...
This may seem a spurious claim to you, but if so: you obviously haven't had the (dis)pleasure of going through Wittgenstein's Philosophical Investigations. A word of warning if you do decide to walk down this path, though: Remember to change the trout ever so often.
I'd like to clarify that I am not just positing this for kicks: it is a thesis derived from empirical observation (try it yourself: you just need to have a 40+ minute conversation with a professor). Furthermore, it seems to increase with age (I assume this is because it is a decay which begins the day one gets one's PhD/DPhil, and things go downhill from there).
Perhaps there is some evolutionary justification for the maintenance society provides for this ever-continuing loop of folly, from thesis to teaching to training the tangential tricksters of tomorrow (couldn't resist)... Perhaps there is something you can only find, you can only discover while on a tangent...
This may seem a spurious claim to you, but if so: you obviously haven't had the (dis)pleasure of going through Wittgenstein's Philosophical Investigations. A word of warning if you do decide to walk down this path, though: Remember to change the trout ever so often.
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