Friday Science Tintinabulation, July 20, 2012

Another seven days has passed in this hot and steamy summer season, and it is finally time to open up yet another can of whoop-ass knowledge on your collective buttocks…. of science!

Luckily, the summer heat has not quite parboiled all of my forebrain yet, so I as yet remain sufficiently compis mentis to act in loco cognis for you and bring you the most au courant and de rigeur science stories of this week.

But enough of those languages. For one thing, my spell checker is on the verge of a nervous breakdown.

“None of these are WORDS! Why aren’t you DOING anything?”

Our first story is usually the light and breezy, optimistic story, so let’s talk about AIDS.

Big News On AIDS

Wait, come back! I meant… let’s talk about a possible proof that AIDS can be cured!

That’s right, cured. Not just handled, or treated, or controlled. Cured, as in gone, as in you go back to you life as if it had never happened.

Now the proof is slim, so to speak. It is largely in the form of this guy.

Timothy Brown, shown here with his pet human being dog.

Short version : he had AIDS, he got a bone marrow transplant to deal with a type of blood cancer, nobody expected that to cure his AIDS, but now he is five years AIDS free despite not taking his antivirals any more. Ta da!

So after almost thirty years of the word “cure” being quite firmly taboo in AIDS medicine due to the disease’s ability to hide in one’s DNA forever, now it just might be OK to talk cure again.

What’s the cure? Well, in one percent of the population, that HIV never leads to AIDS because their white blood cells have a slight mutation that HIV can’t handle.

These people are called elite controllers [1], and it was from an elite controller that Timothy Brown got his bone marrow transplant.

Now bone marrow transplants are not child’s play for either donor or recipient, so this is not exactly going to become the standard procedure. But it points the way towards a possible cure.

And if we take down AIDS, things are going to get freakay.

Never Forget A Password Again

Because basically, you will never actually remember it in the first place.

Not consciously, anyhow. Bear with me because this is a little complicated.

But basically, it relies on what is known as implicit learning, that is, learning things without knowing you are learning them. The volunteers played a video game in which they had to intercept falling blocks. There were six places the blocks could fall, each corresponding to a different key on their keyboards.

The trick is that the placement of the blocks was not always random. In fact, the same series of thirty blocks was repeated around 100 times while the people played the game for like 45 minutes. [2]

Each time that sequence was repeated, the volunteers would react a little faster, and hence were “memorizing” the sequence without even having a vocabulary to describe it.

This could lead to a system where you establish your password by playing the game with a random set pattern embedded in it, and then you are the only person in the world who would be able to consistently get that exact pattern right faster than you would just random blocks.

Even if someone played the game morning noon and night to get good at it, they would simply be faster at the game as a whole. They would still not be faster at only the right sequence of blocks.

And the bonus would be that nobody could force you to reveal your password, because you do not even know it to start with. Only your reflexes know it.

More trouble than it is worth for the average consumer, but I can see it having applications in very high security situations.

Science Wants To Be Free

Finally, a very interesting and stimulating story from the UK, where the government has ordered that all government funded research must be made freely available to the public by 2014.

This opens up a huge can of worms about how science works as an industry and as a phenomenon, as well as poking at the very substrata of scientific academia.

From the point of view of pure science and the advancement of human knowledge, it is a fantastic development. Nothing accelerates the cause of human knowledge and progress faster that the free and unfettered exchange of information, and having all public science be publicly available would mean that there would be no need for scientists to duplicate one another’s research all over the world because they are all hoarding knowledge in order to get funding.

Instead, everyone could have all the up to date data and results all the time, and hence, the state of the art (or in this case, science) would progress at a far faster rate.

And for a science loving, progress loving, big time intellectual nerd like me, that could not be more awesome if it tried.

But there are practical concerns. For one thing, there still has to be the regulatory effect of the scientific journals. They serve to evaluate various experiments and studies and weed out the junk science, the weak science, the incomplete science, and so forth.

That is why you cannot have, as some suggest, science published directly to the people. That would lead to far too much mass confusion about what was real science and what was not.

Still, I look forward to more nations taking this approach, and via the Internet, giving science the kind of supercharge it needs to face the problems of the future.

Which it sort of created.

Footnotes    (↵ returns to text)

  1. Is that the most awesome title ever, or what? Elite Controller. I totally want that to be the name of the head of an evil space empire on Doctor Who.
  2. I am all for science, but I would not play what sounds like a very boring game for 45 minutes without being paid.

More dark days

Another day of the long dark tunnel of sleep. Lots of dreams and shit. Ho hum, just another day in the strange and exotic landscape of my mind.

Nothing wrong with me that getting a life would not fix.

I am working on it.

For instance, ordered the ice cream maker that I had my heart set on yesterday. It is a Cuisinart Pure Indulgence, and I am super excited about it.

What can I say? I adore toys that make food.

And I mean, come on! I love love love ice cream. It is like my favorite dessert ever, and even if I was not diabetic, the prospect of making it myself would have enormous appeal. When I used to be a frequent visitor to the Ideal Dairy Ice Cream Parlor in my hometown of Summerside, Prince Edward Island, I would always look at all the flavours and choose my favorites [1] and ponder what sort of flavours I would concoct if I was the guy who owned the dairy and ran the ice cream parlor.

Well, now I will be able to fulfill my dream and experiment to my heart’s content. I have the feeling I will be buying some mint extract in the very near future, and maybe even get some sugar free chocolate syrup online, so I can make my own version of my favorite all time ice cream flavour, Chocolate Mint Medallion, a sadly transient flavour from Baskin Robbins.

Nothing fancy, just mint ice cream with chocolate sauce rippled through it, but man o man, that stuff did something amazing and wonderful to my brain. Pretty much anything with chocolate and mint together in it will do it, but Chocolate Mint Medallion did it best.

Sad but true : a month later I was back at same Baskin Robbins, eagerly anticipating a repeat, and they had never heard of the stuff. The cone jockey acted like I had decided to just make up a flavour and ask her if she had it just to make her life harder. I was placed in the absurd, Kafka like position of having to argue for the very existence, in the past if not in the present, of the product in question. Nobody at the store had even heard of it, apparently.

That is Falling Down level bullshit. The little things that can drive a person completely nuts if it happens enough. Reality issues.

I mean, you really have to wonder what kind of a world we live in when you realized that even the Mister Rogers for a whole generation of nerds was, in face, kind of a dick.

Yup. Mister Wizard was a real asshole.

Actually, I am sure that he was a very nice man and these clips are in no way representative of what he was really liked as a host or as a person.

Or maybe he really was a raging arsehole who hated children. I don’t know. He was a little before my time. I vaguely recall him being on PBS when I was very very young, and being a little scared of him, but then again, at that age, I was a little afraid of Big Bird, so that is no indication.

Still, compared to the mega sunny, super positive, pro social, pro self-esteem shows that I grew up on, like Sesame Street, he does come off as a little angry.

I think, ironically enough, that the idea was that this was funny, that a grownup would act like a petulant child sometimes. Perhaps they even thought this would make him more identifiable and less of an imposing authority figure for kids.

And that probably worked for kids with authoritarian parents and from the right era. But me, I really wanted adults to be respectable authority figures on whom I could rely, and they just were not. So Mister Wizard would have just greatly upset me. An adult who acts like the mean kids who pick on me?

Just shoot me now.

Luckily, I had Mister Dressup, who was every Canadian child’s sweet, patient uncle, and the Friendly Giant, who was weird but he had animals who played music.

And later on, my science show was Newton’s Apple with Ira Flatow, and he was never angry, childish, or mean.

And then came Bill Nye The Science Guy, who was wacky and hilarious (to a kid) and his show was all hyperkinetic and hyperactive and awesome. The perfect thing for a mentally hyperactive kid like I was.

Hyperactive like the Thomas Dolby Song.

Is that one amazingly 80’s video or what? One of my all time faves.

Another thing that has been on my mind lately is this news story about a massive showdown between the Big Six publishers and Amazon.com.

Basically, Amazon wants to jack up what it charges publishers to put stuff out for the Kindle by as much as 30 times, and the Big Six (who must own like eighty percent of all the books in the world) are, understandably, not willing to sign up for that kind of ass raping.

I have been asking myself what the fuck Amazon is thinking playing chicken with the big dogs of publishing. They must me truly inhaling their own exhaust and thinking that in the future, nobody will buy books any more and the only way to sell a book will be on the Kindle. So they can ask for whatever the fuck they want, because they have a monopoly on the future.

That is clearly delusional. Traditional publishing might be dying, but it is not dead yet, and the Bix Six can do without Amazon (there are lots of other readers, after all) a lot more easily than Amazon can do without the Big Six, without whom presumably the Kindle buyers would have nothing to read.

But I think that is the future of the world of media. The big dogs will turn on each other like trapped rats as the media pie shrinks.

I just hope there is still room for those of us what string the words together in the first place once all the dinosaurs have killed each other off.

Just call me a mammal, I guess.

Footnotes    (↵ returns to text)

  1. Black Forest ice cream was a big one. Rich Chocolate ice cream with walnuts, marshmallows, and cherries in it. Phenomenal.

The deep down dark

Today has been an average day.

In the morning, I had a doctor’s appointment. Nothing to worry about, just a pill refill. It was not my usual doctor, Doctor Kelvin Chao, but someone acting as his locum, a doctor named Doctor Chu,

I have to say, I liked him. He had a slightly creaky but still very pleasant manner, like a friendly old uncle or your favorite college professor. We talked about how I need to get right on that insulin injection routine (because you know, I am super eager to start having to perforate myself every day) and how I really should have my eyes examined as it has been at least four years.

Possibly more, I am not sure.

But he is right, I really should get my eyeballs looked into. Being a diabetic (and one that is, quite frankly, out of control), I need to pay especially close attention to the health of my eyes. A lot of bad things can happen to your eyesight when you are diabetic.

And the idea of going blind scares the hell out of me. I typed this paragraph with my eyes closed just to give myself a taste of it. Not very fun.

(Not bad, honestly, for someone who never took a typing course in their life.)

In general, I have been neglectful of my health lately. I have been eating the wrong foods (as in, normal desserts) and not getting much activity and lapsing back into eating junk food with carbs in it instead of sticking to the peanuts and trail mix and so on.

And I do not know what to do about it. The self-discipline circuit seems to be the same one that my self-loathing uses, and now that I have disabled the self-loathing, it is very hard for me to get my bizness together and concentrate and remember things and keep myself under control.

Partly, this is because of the summer. Not only does the heat tend to fry my brain and make it hard to think linearly, but I suspect that someone in the deep works of my psyche, I still feel like summer is the time when you turn off your brain because you have been using it all year in school and it needs a break so you can go play and have fun.

This is what happens when someone gets trapped in depression when they are taken out of college. I am still trying to get over it 17 years later and counting.

But my lack of discipline lately is also due to this disconnecting my self loathing circuit and just letting myself off the hook for now. I am hoping that this will force my psyche to create a healthier pathway where I can care for myself because I care about myself. not because I flail myself into it via my inner tormentor.

Corny as it sounds, I need to learn to love myself. Right now, I am only just learning to stop hating myself, and to occasionally remember that I am a pretty awesome guy with a lot of talents.

And then to silence that voice that says “that just makes you an even bigger loser for not doing anything with your life!”

I hate that voice. I want to stick it in a bag of loose weights and drown it. Fuck you, evil voice. Get the hell out of my psyche.

We need a cuteness fix to chase that evil mean voice away. And I have just the thing. What are the cutest critters in the whole world?

Foxes, of course!

I GOT TOAST! (click to enlarge)

Aww. He looks like he is looking for a toaster. Foxes are the cutest things ever. I am probably going to make that picture my new desktop background.

Weird thing : the size of the pic is 999 pixels by 666 pixels. What a weird size. Was this photograph taken by…. SATAN?

Probably not. Probably just a coincidence, or someone with an odd sense of humour.

Been catching up on the sleep lately, which is a little unpleasant due to the form it takes (deep down dark dream filled dragging through the swamp, waking up messed up) but still a relief, as I had been having a lot of trouble sleeping lately and was quite worried about the growing tension I felt in my mind from the backed up sleepiness.

Not sure what would have happened if that tension had somehow reached the breaking point without forcing me into sleep, but I bet it would have been pretty ugly. I envision my slipping into a disastrously manic mood, where I have no censors on duty regarding what I say and do and end up waking up in jail with no memory of my crimes, which would be extensive, colorful, and damning.

But I gots the sleepies, so that is not going to happen.

Still, I plan on talking to my psychiatrist tomorrow about something a little stronger than Zopiclone as a sleep aid. It helps, but it does not help enough for my goal of wanting to have something that makes me feel secure that I will be able to sleep when I need to sleep.

Maybe that is not practical, or medically advisable, I do not know. I could probably get better sleep if I got a lot more exercise. Work off that excess tension, get the endorphins flowing, lose weight in the process, improve my mood.

And I am working on it, but I have miles of ice to melt through caked all around my will to motion. It will be a while before I can summon the will and the patience and the faith to exercise just as something to do, when I do not even have to do it.

My mind is still set on “do nothing unless you are forced to do it” mode. Inertia mode.

But every day the weight on my mind decreases, and it becomes easier to move.

Some day, I will truly fly.

The other side of the mountain

Finally managed to get something like real sleep today. And by real sleep, I mean, of course, the super heavy mega sweaty REM crammed sleep that leaves me feeling like I went ten rounds with a Titan except not nearly as sexy.

And interestingly, I am also feeling sort of depressed and lonely. I am guessing that I am on the down slope of the hypomanic mountain I have been climbing lately, and that what I really need is a lot of rest and sleep to recharge my overtaxed brain.

When I first embarked upon this campaign of opening myself up emotionally, I knew that the most likely result would be mood destabilization. Higher highs, lower lows. Great mood amplitude. And that seems to be what is happening.

The secret, I think, is to simply accept that there will be highs and lows, and not try to cling to the high when it begins to fade and drive myself into despair because I can not hold onto it and it slips away like sand through my fingers no matter how hard I try to grip it.

Another wave will be along. And being on the way down is only as bad as you make it. If you refuse to accept the cyclical nature of things and insist on trying to stop the wheel in motion, you surrender all ability to paln for and work with the cycles, and just end up delaying your own renewal.

That is what we do when we shut off our feelings in an attempt to keep the bad feelings at bay. We end up living our lives moving in slow motion through a thick morass of unfelt emotions and interrupted thoughts, dragging ourselves through it every day, and wondering, as we continue to deny our emotions and hence thicken the medium even further till it is like frozen molasses, why everything seems so hard and we are tired all the time.

You have to take off the emergency brake of life and let those feelings in, good and bad. Only then can you unstick the wheel and get to the point where you are healed fresh again.

And yes, you will keep passing through light and darkness. You cannot eliminate negative emotions. They are as much a part of life as the positive ones. You have to open your arms and embrace the whole of life before you can fix the hole in your life.

And if you unstick the wheel and let is spin freely, and stop trying to jam your sword in the spokes to make it stop where you please, then the darkness and the light start to blend together into a color called Life, and the pain and the healing are close enough together that it is almost like the pain never happens in the first place.

I have a linear biased mind. A very male mind, in many ways. (In other ways, not at all!)

I am a goal and achievement oriented person. That imposes linearity on my outlook. Goals are all about linear motion, point A to point B, nothing cyclical about it.

I also have a conservative mindset, in that I am risk-averse and tend to want to conserve what I have much more strongly than I want to get more. I am quite greedy in many ways, but I am also very cautious and these vectors combine to create another sort of linearity.

Fundamentally, this makes for a controlling personality. It is very hard for me to accept that there are things entirely beyond my control, and that no matter how smart and thoughtful and practical and sensible I try to be, I will always, to a certain degree, be open to the winds of fate.

That means that there is no ultimate safety, and hence, I feel, I can never truly relax. There will never be a time when I can relax and feel safe and not have to worry about danger coming from every possible angle. I will never lose the curse of the eye that looks in all directions at once, the deep down anxiety that the moment I let my guard down, Fate will leap through that opening and make my life even worse than it is now.

And the thought of giving up on the dream of final safety drives me to despair. Some part of me, I suppose, has always though that at some point, I will feel safe. But the truth is, if the real cause of my paranoia and anxiety is a pain lodged deep in my soul like a splinter, then no amount of exterior manipulation of reality will solve it.

If the problem is that your leg is broken, it does not matter how soft the carpet is.

And perhaps ultimate safety comes from that most dreaded of things, relying on others. When you have been severely let down by others in your formative years, it is very hard to trust anyone with your safety. You are all too aware of people’s weaknesses, and the thought of leaving your safety to these fallible, unreliable, distracted, uncaring people seems like lunacy.

And as much as I know that learning to open up to others and trust them is the route to better mental health, I still cannot imagine actually doing it. Perhaps it is one of those things that come naturally out of other layers of recovery. I certainly hope so. I am dead cold frozen on a very deep level, and that cannot persist if I am to become a fully functional, healthy, whole, integrated human.

Perhaps, though, I simply need to redefine safety a little. Perhaps you cannot control the world, or even your world, enough to make it safe, but you can develop the internal faculties to deal with whatever happens anyhow.

And maybe that is all that separates the whole people from us broken people : the feeling that, no matter what happens, you will make it through.

Sounds like madness. But maybe it is a madness which works.

Video clips, July 16, 2012

Here are some videos I have come across recently. Surprise : only ONE is a TED talk!

First off, we have this charming clip of an adorable nerd girl and her amazing journey to complete a pretty daunting and impressive task.

Yes, she does impressions of all one hundred and fifty one of the original set of Pokemon. Now, I am only a little Pokemon literate. I have played the video games a fair bit (especially the Gameboy version of the Pokemon Collectable Card Game) and watched a bunch of the series, but it has never been more than a slight interest of mine and so I have no idea just how well she does her impressions.

I mean, they all seem pretty good to me, but what do I know? I never even learned the Poke-rap.

What I do know is that she is darned adorable doing them. I had a lot of fun watching this video. Not only is it just fun watching her make silly faces as she makes silly noises, but it was just cool to hear all of the Pokemon’s signature “the only thing I can say is my name if you are lucky” noises in a row. A lot of them I had never heard before.

Plus, of course, I adore people who puts a lot of time and effort and love into things that other people might think of as silly, pointless, childish, or inane.

In other words…. nerds. Know what I am saying?

Next up, a magnificent sign of the progress of gay rights : a very pro-gay anti-homophobia rap song.

But um, spoiler alert : bummer ending warning.

I sort of knew it would not end well when I watched it the first time. I just had a deep intuition that this would be a cautionary tale of just exactly how homophobia kills every single day.

I am really impressed with the level of social progress that a video like this represents. We are a long way from all that gangsta bullshit about hating faggots and beating up faggots and so on. Hip hop has had a seriously homophobic culture for twenty years or more, and it is good to see someone have the balls to confront that and tell a different side of the story.

Plus, I think the young actors do a very good job. I felt the love between our two principals. I felt Roderick’s deep, crazy pain. I understood how someone in that kind of profound conflict might do someone completely insane and wrong in order to resolve it.

I felt maybe the transition between what seems like it will be a happy ending, and when Roderick pulls out the gun, was a little too sharp. It did not totally feel real to me. Then again, the plot of the video has to follow the lyrics of the song. Not a lot of time to develop really solid, naturally flowing characterization in a five minute music video,.

Still, that shit was solid. Word.

Next up, we have a ten minute movie that is way better than 99 percent of the rehashed crap that Hollywood shits onto the screen in ninety minute grunts these days.

And it has a special treat at the end that if you are like me will absolutely blow your mind.

Now that is how you make a fan movie. I already loved the movie before that absolutely kick ass action scene at the end. The mood and the atmosphere had me mesmerized. Everything had that perfect clarity and texture of a really vivid dream. Realer than reality, in a way. Stylized only in ways that made it more awesome. That is serious craft.

And obviously, the action sequence did not come as a surprise. You just knew those evil motherfuckers were going down. And damn, did they go down good. I love how they handled the blood. Probably not very realistic, but it made it all the more satisfying.

(SPOILER ALERT) No, what blew my mind was the Punisher symbol on the shirt he gives the kid at the end. I saw that and my brain was frozen for just a heartbeat, like it could not contain my surprise and delight, and then I am all ‘HOLY SHIT! THAT WAS FRANK CASTLE! THAT WAS THE PUNISHER! HOOOOOLY SHIIIIT!”

And there was much rejoicing. I was pretty much incapacitated with nerd glee for like five minutes.

And that was something I just had to share with you, my beloved readers!

Finally, that TED Talk I mentioned earlier.

The guy speaks in a rumbling, rambling monotone, but stick with him, because he is quite hilarious and incredibly brilliant to boot.

This is the latest TED Talk I watched, and it just became more delightful as he went along. He has a marvelous dry sense of humour, with quite a wicked snap to it, and that would be enough to make his talk quite a lot of fun.,

But when he started talking about some of his group’s designs, I began to really take notice, and by the time he was talking about those cities he is designing in China, I was feeling someone like religious awe for this man who talked so much sense.

His cities sound absolutely brilliant, and for someone like me who hold efficiency as a primary virtue, the ability to create such a marvelously efficient system that optimizes all the important variables of human life, even to the point of making sure every street gets a fresh breeze and the town’s human waste creates natural gas for cooking!

I cannot sufficiently articulate how excited I am by such things. The cities of the future will be designed with the full human equation in mind. It will be designed to make us all as happy as we can be, and that includes keeping us cool with the environment.

And I love how he talked about not being anti-growth. Growth with happen no matter what.

The question is, what do we want to grow?

The edge of sleep

Still not a heck of a lot of luck sleeping. Yesterday’s prediction that my hypo-manic state was collapsing and that I was heading into one of my long sleepy jags turned out to be wishful thinking. I have not gotten a heck of a lot of sleep lately. I get tired, I lay down, I relax, but I never quite get to sleep.

I just sort of hover around the edge of sleep, floating on its waters without ever going below the surface.

And it is beginning to really bother me. I feel increasingly anxious and squirrelly and restless and bored. I can partly cure that by doing some baking of one sort of another. Part of it is, I think, that I have not gotten my bizness together enough to do anything productive in the last few days, and the high from having finally written some fiction last Thursday has worn off.

Plus, I finishes my last (successful) bread this morning, and that usually means it is time to make another one. So there’s that.

Problem I have right now is time. I have a social engagement this evening. My friends and I will be going to ABC Country Kitchen, one of our fave local eateries, and joining us there will be a friend of dear Felicity’s to whom she has been wanting to introduce us for a while.

I am sort of curious about this fellow myself, so I am looking forward to the meeting, despite the little jolts my social anxiety is trying to inject into my mind.

<em>Stranger danger! Pretend you are sick, get out of it! He won’t like you! It will be awkward and weird! You will wish you had just stayed home anyhow! DO NOT GO!

Yeah, fuck you. I am learning to lean into the pain and to follow my fear. To deliberately do things that my fears tell me not to do and which hurt psychologically, because that is where the good stuff is hiding, the growth, the purification of pain, the energy to change for the better.

Of course, it is also where the bad stuff is, and I am all about finding the bad stuff and tackling it head on lately. I am so damn sick of my stupid life that I do not care about anything but battling my personal demons and kicking their filthy asses out of my mind, no matter what it takes.

No matter how much of myself has to go with them. Fuck it. I have nothing I am looking to keep anyhow. I have been weighed down by excess baggage for too long, and every bit of it I jettison makes me stronger and more powerful and more capable in direction proportion to the weight of the baggage I lose.

That is incentive enough for me. I have built up a reserve of the kind of deep down crazy of the man with explosives strapped all over him and the button in his hand, screaming that people better start paying attention to him or a lot of people are going to die, including himself.

And I am willing to use that craziness, that kamikaze desperation, to motivate myself into leaping into the abyss and defying my fears and eagerly anticipating the kind of pain that brings growth.

Go ahead, hit me. Scare me, make me desperate and confused and awash in the spring thaw rush of unfrozen emotions. I am so god damned ready for it.

Hit me hard and break me open
Crack my shell and take me apart
I fear nothing any more.
Take me, break me
Scrape me, rape me
Leave me in pieces on the floor

You can only make me stronger and hasten a long delayed rebirth.

Of course, first I got to get some sleep.

It is odd, though, this near-sleep I have been getting. It is a lot like sleep. I even sort of dream, although it is more like deep vivid daydreaming or really intense thoughtfulness than it is like real sleep dreaming. And time does seem to sort of pass faster. I am less aware of the passing of time, anyhow. So it is a sleep-like state. One might even call it parasleep.

But it is not real sleep because I never really totally let go and relax and surrender to sleep. This deep restlessness prevents it. Part of me still wants to get up and do stuff, I guess.

And it is hard to sleep when you are bored. As counterintuitive as that is. You would think that being bored would make you want to sleep, but no.

And sometimes reading before I sleep just does not cut it. In face, sometimes reading just seems to make it worse because it is more mental stimulation and just jazzes me up even further.

Maybe the real solution is that I need to somehow counterbalance my mental stimulation (which is basically what I do all day) with physical activity. That way, there is no big tension between my brain wants and the activity my body craves.

So I need to move more. That is certainly nothing new. And I am slowly chipping away at the iceberg that is my anti-action bias and pounding the idea into my skull that sometimes, actually doing things is actually a good thing that feels good while you are doing it and feels good afterwards too!

It is a radical idea for someone who has spent almost two decades doing as little as possible at all times due to the evil influence of depression and its dark voice that says movement is bad, action is bad, only stillness is safety, only stillness and remaining hidden and not being noticed keeps you safe and keeps the emotions you have frozen deep inside you from thawing out and forcing you to deal with them. Just lay low until the danger has passed.

But the danger never passes, does it?

So fuck it. I am outta here.

Seeya later folks!

The Tired Part

Bleh. I think my recent hypomanic phase has ended, and that is a good thing because it means I can finally sleep, but it also means that as I am writing these words, I am very very sleepy, and just want to go back to bed and get some more of those big beautiful zeds.

So I get the feeling I am heading into one of my sleepy periods. Fair enough. Might make tonight’s writing a little more onerous than usual, but what the heck, I have done this little trick of mine in this state of mine before, and nobody has complained.

Had a wee baking disaster on Thursday. Tried out a recipe for ginger bread (which is like, gingerbread flavoured bread) in the old bread machine of which I am so fond, and out of routine habit, I doubled the amount of spices called for in the recipe.

See, recipes always spice things for toothless scared old people with serious heart conditions who might be killed by actual flavour, so they prefer to just be gently reminded of their memories of flavour so they can contently reminisce.

So when I am baking and they ask for cinnamon or ginger or whatever, I just automatically double it.

But in this case, I think that might have been an error, because I did not end up with bread at the end. I ended up with ginger colored bumpy lumps. Clearly, the leavening did not occur. I am guessing somehow either the bread was not elastic enough the carbon dioxide bubbles when they formed, or, more likely, my extra potent quantity of cinnamon, ginger, and cloves just plain killed the yeast before the whole leavening thing could get started, and so I basically ended up with unleavened ginger lumps.

Lesson learned. Do not mess with the complex biochemistry of the baking process. It is not like making cookies, where there is no leavening process, no yeast, so you can tinker with proportions and the worst thing that can happen is the cookies taste a little funny.

Nope, bread is more delicate, and I will, in the future, follow the recipes to the T when I make the bread, and hence not make the lumps.

Apartment smelled really, really good for a while, though.

Oh, another silly thing I did. I bought a bottle of good old cheap fake vanilla (technically, vanillin, so I am chillin’ with vanillin like a villain) and then discovered that not only do we already have some vanilla, it is the real deal, not the fake artificial stuff.

So not only did I spend five bucks on vanilla when I did not have to, but I basically bought generic beer when I already had true champagne at home.

Oh well. I will use the real stuff until it runs out, I suppose. Or maybe I should use the fake stuff first, then when I switch to the real stuff,it will be like everything I bake suddenly tastes way better. The other way would be kind of depressing.

This way, things actually get better over time, and for my whole life, that is how I have preferred it.

I have never been someone who wanted to eat their dessert first. Then the rest of the meal is going to seem pretty boring and lame by comparison, plus you deny yourself the pleasure of anticipation. Clearly, waiting results in more pleasure, and I am all about getting the most pleasure for my buck.

Speaking of pleasure, I have been greatly enjoying a warm and nourishing wash of lovely schadenfreude over two news items about bad things happening to people I loathe.

First, Daniel Tosh of the execrably bad show Tosh.0, where he gets all his material from Internet video clips and then pretends he is adding value by making extremely dickish and unfunny comments about them, has ignited the fires of rage by making some hilarious jokes about rape during a set at the Laugh Factory (same place Michael Richards ended his career forever) last week.

Joking about rape is edgy but potentially acceptable to me. I am a comedy guy myself, and I would never, ever say some subjects are completely off limits. In fact, some of the most positive humour comes from the most sensitive subjects, because that is where the greatest tension lies.

However, luckily for us who had Tosh and his smug fucking face, he did not just joke about rape. When a woman objected to the joke, he said “Wouldn’t it be funny if she was raped right now? Like, if five guys raped her right now?”

And that, my friend, is going over the line. Reap the whirlwind, you horrible hack. You pushed things too far, and now the limb you went out on has cracked behind you.

And speaking of terrible things happening to smug bastards, Mitt Romney is in hot water because not only does it turn out he has money in both Swiss and Cayman Island banks, but he has been telling people he had nothing to do with the running of his evil, evil job killing firm Bain Capital after 1999, but there is documentation showing he was running it in 2001.

So already, he is looking really shady.

But wait, there’s more. After more than a year of trying to be the only Presidential candidate to ever run for the Oval Office without releasing his tax records, he recently and very reluctantly agreed to release them… for only the last two years.

Talk about making himself look even worse. What happened three years ago, Mitt?

And it gets even better. Turns out ole Shifty Mitt claimed he had nothing to do with running Bain Capital after 1999 on some forms for the SEC.

And laying on SEC forms is a federal crime, a felony.

Imagine, for a moment, the glorious image of Mitt Romney doing the Perp Walk, handcuffed and cowed, as he is hustled into a cop car by the FBI.

And felons cannot run for President. It is right there in the Constitution.

So imagine what the Republican Convention would be like then.

Ah, the glory of it all.

See you tomorrow, folks!

Friday Science Amalgamation, July 13, 2012

It’s a very spooky Friday the 13th!

Actually, it is not even vaguely spooky. It has been a lovely summer day except for a few moody gray moments to keep us on our toes, not a single particularly unlucky thing has happened to me (at least, nothing outside regular probability), I had a pretty good therapy session, and all in all, it has been a lovely day. Take that, triskaidecaphobia!

Besides, everyone knows it’s unlucky to be superstitious! Thank goodness I have never been superstitious, knock on wood.

And we are certainly lucky in that I have a full, metric bevy of science stories to share.

So let’s get down to it, boppers!

Let’s start off in the world of music, with a development that is sure to piss off a lot of people with painted vans and feathered hair : a stringless guitar simulator that anyone can play.

A Montreal tinkerer named Miroslaw Sowa teamed up with a Toronto software engineer named Vsevolod Zagainov to take over the world via chess create the Tabstrummer, an all-electronic guitar simulator where the musician (?) just touches both sides of the neck of the guitar to indicate where they would put their fingers on the frets of a guitar, and strums across a circuit that represents the strings.

All this sounds faboo to me. I come from a long line of guitar players, and I would love to learn to play, but I am simply too much of a wimp to shred up my fingers in order to build callouses, like I have seen my relations do. If someone can take the knifelike metal strings out of the equation, I would be more than delighted.

Of course, if it sounds like crap, it will not matter how easy it is to play. The kazoo is easy to play too, and a lot cheaper.

Next up, we have a fascinating story from the world of anthroplogy, once I have been sitting on for a while but which I just have to share with you now.

Warning, this does come from the Daily Mail, but still, give it a go.

It is the story of what might be called Britain’s Atlantis, an enormous ancient settlement in what the scientists call Doggerland, a vast area that was highly populated circa 20,000 BC, but which slowly sank under the waters of the North Sea as sea levels rose.

So that which was once verdant plains and valleys is now under hundreds of feet of icy cold water, which makes the settlement find even more exciting because the cold waters should preserve much of what these ancient people made.

So it truly is like a time capsule from our ancient past. The as yet unnamed settlement had tens of thousands of residents, and the amount we can learn from such a staggering find is incalculable.

Personally, I am very interested in their diet. What was their agriculture versus wildcrafting mix? Obviously, with so many people living close together, urbanization and specialization had been achieved. Did they have commerce?

Next up, we have one of my favorite things in science, a genuine mystery! And not just any kind of mystery… a SPACE MYSTERY of TITANIC PROPORTIONS!

See, something is up on Titan, the moon of Saturn. An enormous vortex 3,200 miles across has formed in the atmosphere around Titan’s south pole, and nobody knows why.

The problem is that we do not know a lot about Titan’s seasons. A Titanic year is roughly thirty Earth years, and so we do not have a lot of years of climate data to analyze. For all we know, this happens every other year on Titan, and we just have not watched it long enough to know.

Throw in the effects of Saturn on its satellites, and the satellites on each other, and we really have no clue what is up on Titan.

This could be perfectly normal Titanic weather patterns and if we are around and watching one hundred years from now, we will see it again.

Or it could mean that aliens are sucking up Titan’s atmosphere in order to recharge their mega death blasters before attacking the sweet, succulent jewel that is… The Earth!

We just do not know.

And finally, what is cooler than a SPACE MYSTERY? Why, lasers of course!

And what is the coolest, most awesome laser in the world? Why, the most high energy one, of course.

Well how does 500 trillion watts of laser power strike you?

That is the latest benchmark for the extremely amazing laser at the National Ignition Facility in California, U S of A. A thousand lasers fired simultaneously at a target only 2 mm in diameter, using a mind melting (literally, if you got in the way) 300 terawatts of power.

Now, just what is it the National Ignition Facility is hoping to ignite? Glad you asked, John. What the National Ignition Facility is hoping to ignite is nuclear fusion, the same process which keeps our beloved Sol pumping out the energy that all life on Earth needs to survive.

So if we could successfully spark up nuclear fusion by zapping a highly compressed pellet with enough energy to get things rolling, we could manufacture, on demand, miniature stars which would provide enormous amounts of energy for thousands of years with no additional input.

Fusion is just that efficient. And if you can make one, you can make as many as you like. Imagine a future where every city has its own captive star giving it clean, limitless energy. Energy so cheap they do not even bother to meter it any more. Power so cheap that fossil fuels cannot even begin to compete on price, and so their use just fades away, and the idea of powering your vehicle with gasoline will seem as bizarre, esoteric, and needlessly expensive as powering it with whale oil.

That is the dream of fusion, and it is one I share.

Plus, you get to build huge frickin’ lasers in the process!

How cool is that?

Die Now Incorporated

Andrew stepped off the slidewalk and entered the nondescript storefront of Die Now Incorporated.

As his eyes adjusted to the subdued lighting, the first thing he noticed was that, despite the garishly macabre nature of Die Now’s promotions on the tridee, the offices of said corporation were not so different than those of the differential analysis firmed for which he worked. Light beige carpeting, recessed “comfort” lighting, a reception desk. He found himself gaping at the normalcy.

“Not quite what you expected, I take it?”

Andrew turned, and met the soft gaze and warm smile of a middle aged woman in her eighties. “Oh, hello! Er yes, I suppose I was expecting something more… ”

“Brutal?” the woman supplied, and they both laughed. “Don’t feel bad, that is what everybody thinks before their first time here. But we find that once the person has made the decision to die, there is no more need for the Halloween imagery and Grim Reaper talk. What they need now is a neutral, soothing atmosphere in which to make their final decisions.

“I appreciate it. ” He truly did. He had decided to die not even a full hour ago, and was greatly relieved at the woman’s calm, professional demeanour and the office’s low key decor.

“So, shall we begin? ” asked the woman.

Andrew gulped, swallowing his heart. “What, do it right now?” Suddenly, he was terrified.

“Oh no, Mister…. um…. ”

“Genesis. ” said Andrew. “Andrew Genesis.”

“Pleased to meet you, Andrew. My name is Rue. To answer your question, it is the policy of this company to never do anything without the full and total consent of the client. You can cancel the whole thing even up to the very last moment before the procedure for no charge whatsoever. Many people find that merely facing their mortality achieves whatever it was they had hoped to achieve by surrendering it, and we fully support their decision. We are here, after all, merely to facilitate. ”

“I see. ” said Andrew. Now he felt silly for his earlier overreaction. So what if he had been done right then? It was what he was here to do, wasn’t he?”

Rue sat down behind the reception desk and said “So are we ready to begin the intake process?”

Andrew sat down opposite her, and said “Yes.” quite firmly.

“Excellent. Now we already have your name. Place of employment? ”

Andrew coughed. “Um… Something A Little Differential Analysis. ” He smiled apologetically. “I didn’t pick the name. ”

Rue did not miss a beat. “Oh, SALDA, I’ve heard of them. They do excellent work. I think we may have employed your firm during our early years, for the hard actuarial work. Place of residence?”

“Bubble Nine, Ohio Ring, Third Municipal Layer, Kipling Branch, Trunk 989, Upper Half, Volta City.”

Rue typed away efficiently. “Right. Now, I have to ask you this for record-keeping and legal liability reasons, but rest assured your answer will in no way influence the outcome of this interview or the availability of our services : why is it that you wish to die?”

“Ah. ” said Andrew. He had assumed he would be asked this, but it still seemed abrupt. ” Well, for all the usual reasons, I suppose. Bored with life, can’t see any point in going on to just more of the time, not lucky in love, etc.”

“I see. ” said Rue, typing.

The sudden silence dug into Andrew’s nerves. “Is that not…. er, enough?”

“Oh, it’s fine, Andrew. As I told you, we only record the reason for legal reasons. If it makes you feel any better, your justifications are quite average. Some people come here for far slighter reasons than that. One young lady came in here yesterday just because she was mad at her girlfriend!”

They both laughed at that, and Andrew felt greatly relieved. At least he wasn’t like that silly person!

“Now have you decided how long you wish to remain dead, Andrew?”

“What?” said Andrew. “You mean there’s… I didn’t know there was a choice. I mean, I knew it wasn’t permanent, of course… ”

“Of course. Our business would be quite illegal if it was, and rightfully so. But we can keep you dead for any period of time you choose up to and including the statutory limit of five years. ”

“Oh I see. ” said Andrew. “I guess I just hadn’t thought it through that far, truth be told. Does it make much of a difference?”

“Not really, no. Dying is an experience. Being dead is not. So really, it is up to you how long you want to be dead. We are quite happy to fit you death into your busy schedule. We have plenty of storage space, and our Thanatonic Field Generators take almost no energy to run once they are warmed up. The only real difference it makes is to the storage charge on your final bill. ”

“Right. ” said Andrew thoughtfully. He pondered his options. If it really didn’t make that big of a difference to the experience, simple frugality would dictate that he choose the lowest possible duration for his well timed demise. Then again, it had cost him eight Transfers and nearly half an hour of his time just to get here, and it seemed silly to go to all that trouble and expense for something that was only going to last a moment or two…

“And you guarantee that I will actually die, and be dead? ” asked Andrew, stalling for time.

“Indeed! That is what makes us a leader in the field of death. We have reams of testimonials from satisfied clients who assure us that they truly thought they were dying. We even have some clients who had suffered a near-death experience before coming to us, and they swear it is exactly like the real thing. We have doctors, surgeons, and scientists who have sworn that they can detect absolutely no sign of life in any part of our clients’ bodies while the Field is on. You will be completely, thoroughly, and entirely dead in all respects but one. ”

“Oh?” said Andrew, only half-listening. “And what would sense that be?”

“The legal one. Legally, you will still be considered alive. A court ruling earlier this year made it clear that any form of death, no matter how thorough, which can be reversed is not consider death in the legal sense. So if you had any thoughts of escaping debts or collecting life insurance…. ”

“Oh heavens, no!” exclaimed Andrew. “I just want to die!”

“Ah good. We here at Die Now prefer that our clients do not go into the procedure with any kind of misconceptions as to the nature of the outcome. The good news is that because you are never legally dead, there is no problem resuming your previous life when you return to the living, if you so choose.”

“Wonderful. ” said Andrew. That was the last thing he wanted. He had sort of assumed that once you died, you got to start over again. New name, new friends, new job, new life. Right? Like… reincarnation. But without having to grow up all over again.

“One last question before we go ahead with the procedure, again, strictly for record keeping and legal reasons. I assume you have made all the appropriate post mortem arrangements? Pets being cared for, friends notified, employer informed, and all that?”

Andrew stared at his shoes, blushing hotly. He hadn’t done any of those things! Suddenly this whole thing seemed impulsive and stupid. His plant ecology would need feeding in a few hours. He was pet
sitting his best friends’ two pet civets. Hells below, he even had a date that night. And really, if he just went back to his same old life afterward, and the actual experience itself was unpleasant, then really what was the point?

He stood abruptly and stammered as he backed towards the door, “Listen, I…. uh, I th-think I should really give this some, uh… I don’t think I really want to um… ”

Rue smiled at him reassuringly. “I fully understand, Andrew. Take all the time you need. Would you like to take some of our literature with you…?”

Andrew shook his head as he bumped into the door. “Um, no, I don’t think I should… I mean, I don’t think it will be necessary to, uh… ”

And with that, he turned and fled.

Rue gave the slightest of shrugs, and deleted Andrew’s file. That was not strictly in accordance to corporate policy, but over the years of doing this job, Rue had learned to read the people who came in that door pretty well, and she knew in an instant that Andrew was not truly a client. She knew he would never go through with it. She would have bet a month’s worth of Transfers that he was a one-hour or less case. The real clients were the ones who had truly thought it through. Or the ones who were truly so impulsive that nothing could stop them anyhow.

Just then, a pale child barely in her thirties stepped into Die Now Inc.

Rue smoothed her dress, watch this young thing gape at the banality of the office for a moment, then approached her quietly, and said :

“Not quite what you expected, I take it?”

Peanut butter somethings

Today, I finally branced out from bread machine baking to some of the real stuff, and I am quite proud of that, even though it did not turn out so well.

It all started with my deciding I was too bored to sit in front of computer any more and that the solution was baking. So I decided to look for a good Peanut Butter Cookie recipe, those being a favorite of mine since they were one of the very first things I learned how make when I taught myself to bake.

So I Googled it, and the first recipes was supposedly the “Ultimate” peanut butter cookie recipe, but it require vanilla and I do not have any yet. Then the second recipe asked for 2 eggs, and I only had one.

But then I came across this third recipe, and I just knew I had to try it.

I mean, here it the entire thing :

1 cup Kraft Smooth Peanut Butter
1/2 cup sugar
1 egg

HEAT oven to 325°F.

MIX all ingredients with large spoon until well blended.

ROLL into 24 balls; place, 4 inches apart, on baking sheets. Flatten with fork.

BAKE 20 min. or until lightly browned. (Do not overbake.) Cool 5 min. on baking sheets; transfer to wire racks. Cool completely.

That is it, that is the entire recipe. And what really gets me is that there are only three ingredients : peanut butter, sugar (Splenda), and an egg.

I just looked and looked at the recipe, unable to believe that somethuing that simple could produce anything resembling my beloved peanut butter cooks of days gone by.

And yet, there it was on the official recipe site of Kraft Foods, a brand that I have trusted ever since I was a little kid. And surely Kraft, big fancy corporation that is is, would not have a recipe that was total shite on its website, at least, not for very long.

So I was in tense inner conflict, and clearly, there was only one way to resolve it.

Make the darn things!

SO I did. And they did turn out to be something like cookies. I say ‘something like’, because alas, I over-baked them. Cookies can be tricky things with the timing, and I foolishly decided, after looking in at the ten minute mark and seeing they were not done yet, to “give them another five minutes”. Five minutes later I return, and they are significantly overdone.

Not burned, thank goodness, but seconds away from it, and definitely a few shades past the desired “golden brown” that all us baked crave.

But the color is not the real problem, it is the dryness. Those are some bone dry cookie-like objects that I made, and hence, they are kind of unpleasant to eat. I likely will eat some more of them, out of sheer stubbornness if nothing else, but then I will likely put the rest down the Reject Hatch (AKA the kitchen garbage) and try again when I get more eggs.

The recipe obviously works. I just need to fine-tune the timing a tad. Next time, twelve minutes. That should produce better results.

Results with actual moisture in them! Word.

And think about it, a peanut butter cookie recipe so simple I could memorize it. I would love to add that to my back of tricks. Imagine being someplace and the kids are restless and you can just say “Hey kids, let’s make peanut butter cookies!” and suddenly you are Such A Cool Guy.

I truly have fantasies like that.

And speaking of fantasy, I came across something today that I just have to share with you, because as a lifelong connoisseur of the truly bad, I know a gem when I see one, and with this thing, I think I may have hit the motherlode.

Now in the realm of appreciation of the truly bad, there are the movies which are enjoyably bad. These people were sincerely trying to make something good, and the result is hilariously, even adorably inept. These are the real treasures of our kind of appreciation.

And then there are movies which are just plain bad. They are unwatchably bad. They are so boring, so incompetent, so deep down awful that you cannot even enjoy them ironically. They just suck,

Then, every once in a while, there is something so thoroughly awful that is you cannot really enjoy it ironically, but that nevertheless casts a sort of mesmerizing spell over you because you cannot believe that something this bad actually exists.

And with that in mind, I hereby introduce you to the Worst Thing on the Internet.

You have been warned!

Everything about this is atrocious. The acting, the art, the animation, the voiceover… everything. I would love to be able to pat it on the back for its good intentions, but I cannot. I am too numb.

As a side note, there are a surprising number of videos on the Internet with people in them (usually narrating) who sounds pretty much exactly like that guy. I have begone to think of it as the Apserger’s Anarak Accent. It really makes me wonder how the UK can have such rich palette of marvelous accents, and yet somehow, a certain sort of person always ends up sounding up more or less the same.

I am sure is is somehow related to how the “gay accent” occurs spontaneously in millions of homosexuals who have no exposure to gay culture or each other.

Anyhow, see if you can make it through the whole video. I have only made it three fifths of the way through so far. I can only take it in small doses.

And just remember that truly horrible art not only serves to amuse and entertain us jaded post-modern meta-media analysis types.

It also serves to reassure us that nothing we do could ever possibly suck that bad.

Well, that is all for tonight. I am glad I am baking, proper baking, again. Tomorrow I think I shall make me some biscuits.

More bulletins as events warrant.