(For A***, with love)
you sit in soft twilight,
sheets draped over you,
knees drawn up, watching the waning sun.
you're beautiful when you work,
a measured erotic cadence of brush and colour
I could watch for hours, and I do.
we make love after the war
throat and tongue lashings
of kisses nipped in buds and necks.
there's paint everywhere, on the sheets, on the floor, on each other
but that doesn't matter.
The only paint that matters is the paint on the canvas.
Saturday, April 18, 2009
Friday, April 17, 2009
Sunday, March 29, 2009
The long awaited
waiting with bated breath
So, as many of you are probably aware, I was planning to write something on this whole global financial crisis end of the world things, but have been roundly trounced in that department by many, many other commentators. So i'm going to a linkroll of sorts, with short summaries/extracts of each so you can make up your own mind (i.e. conform to my horribly horribly biased view. It makes me happy.) Consider this one-stop learning shop for all things financial crisis-ey.
If you're only going to read/write one article on the financial crisis, make it this one. You google readerites should have been advised on this already, but I reiterate. Strongly. This article is pretty much exactly what I was going to write; he covers all the issues that I was concerned about, between moral hazard and regulatory capture and the insanity of compensation that occurs on Wall Street, and the main conceptual issue that's been bothering me about this Geithner Plan/Bailout thing; that we need more of the same in order to fix this mess:
Another commentator who runs roughly the same line as Johnson: Paul Krugman. The other great critic of the current establishment plans. Not quite a must-read, but definitely worthwhile. The perfect supplement to the Simon Johnson article.
Willem Buiter, in his fantastic, smart and bitchy best about the forthcoming G20 summit, along with proposals to change everything from regulatory regimes to compensation structures and turning around the world economy.
Matt Taibbi recently published a long expose in Rolling Stone on the financial crisis, and it's been getting a bit of press and circulation. My thoughts: This is unprofessional. I mean, c'mon when you say things like:
I understand that it's a sort of hatchet job, that it's supposed to be a form of expression of the righteous anger and populist rage that a lot of people (especially young) are feeling. Character assassination and outright insults are a particular style, especially of Rolling Stone, but it seriously detracts from the story, which is remarkably well-researched and surprisingly endearing. Lots of good points made, but glibness at times and overall tone of conspiracy make it unnecessarily painful.
Brad DeLong's FAQ's the Geithner Plan. If you want the simplest, most concise and more enjoyable breakdowns (along with some boosterism) of the Geithner Plan, this is it. DeLong is far more optimistic about the Geithner Plan than many others. For one thing, I seriously do not think there is anywhere nearly enough "skin in the game" for private investors; they're putting in $30 billion, and the government kicks in, what, $1 trillion? That's what, 3%? That is not enough skin in the game. God forbid we find out that these 'legacy assets' are worthless.
Here's a specific (slightly mathematic) rebuttal of the public-private partnership that's considered one of the major prongs of the Geithner Plan, from naked capitalism. We need to let the zombie banks die:
Clive Crook argues that regulators need to move faster to shut down undercapitalised banks and shadow banks, possibly by adapting the resolution methods of the Federal Deposit Insurance Corporation, which "in effect devises pre-packaged bankruptcies for troubled banks."
Matthew Yglesias on why breaking up the banks is a good idea:
So, as many of you are probably aware, I was planning to write something on this whole global financial crisis end of the world things, but have been roundly trounced in that department by many, many other commentators. So i'm going to a linkroll of sorts, with short summaries/extracts of each so you can make up your own mind (i.e. conform to my horribly horribly biased view. It makes me happy.) Consider this one-stop learning shop for all things financial crisis-ey.
If you're only going to read/write one article on the financial crisis, make it this one. You google readerites should have been advised on this already, but I reiterate. Strongly. This article is pretty much exactly what I was going to write; he covers all the issues that I was concerned about, between moral hazard and regulatory capture and the insanity of compensation that occurs on Wall Street, and the main conceptual issue that's been bothering me about this Geithner Plan/Bailout thing; that we need more of the same in order to fix this mess:
Even leaving aside fairness to taxpayers, the government’s velvet-glove approach with the banks is deeply troubling, for one simple reason: it is inadequate to change the behavior of a financial sector accustomed to doing business on its own terms, at a time when that behavior must change.As Felix Salmon puts it, "[this article] captures all the different strands of thought that Simon Johnson has been talking about in various other articles and puts it all together in a coherent whole. Sobering." Indeed.
Another commentator who runs roughly the same line as Johnson: Paul Krugman. The other great critic of the current establishment plans. Not quite a must-read, but definitely worthwhile. The perfect supplement to the Simon Johnson article.
Willem Buiter, in his fantastic, smart and bitchy best about the forthcoming G20 summit, along with proposals to change everything from regulatory regimes to compensation structures and turning around the world economy.
Matt Taibbi recently published a long expose in Rolling Stone on the financial crisis, and it's been getting a bit of press and circulation. My thoughts: This is unprofessional. I mean, c'mon when you say things like:
Cassano [Head of AIGFP, the unit that brought AIG down], a pudgy, balding Brooklyn College grad with beady eyes and way too much foreheador
a bald-headed Frankensteinian goon named Hank Paulsonor my favourite
valueswise they're on par with crack addicts, or obsessive sexual deviants who burgle homes to steal panties.I'm going to lose respect for you, because you don't seem serious. (Maybe this is meant to be satirical, and I don't get the joke. Unless it's one of those 'the joke is, we're all fucked, haha.' I don't know.)
I understand that it's a sort of hatchet job, that it's supposed to be a form of expression of the righteous anger and populist rage that a lot of people (especially young) are feeling. Character assassination and outright insults are a particular style, especially of Rolling Stone, but it seriously detracts from the story, which is remarkably well-researched and surprisingly endearing. Lots of good points made, but glibness at times and overall tone of conspiracy make it unnecessarily painful.
Brad DeLong's FAQ's the Geithner Plan. If you want the simplest, most concise and more enjoyable breakdowns (along with some boosterism) of the Geithner Plan, this is it. DeLong is far more optimistic about the Geithner Plan than many others. For one thing, I seriously do not think there is anywhere nearly enough "skin in the game" for private investors; they're putting in $30 billion, and the government kicks in, what, $1 trillion? That's what, 3%? That is not enough skin in the game. God forbid we find out that these 'legacy assets' are worthless.
Here's a specific (slightly mathematic) rebuttal of the public-private partnership that's considered one of the major prongs of the Geithner Plan, from naked capitalism. We need to let the zombie banks die:
With price discovery (or the equivalent via more realistic marking of their books), some banks would be toast and need to be put in a form of receivership. But pretending these banks are viable, keeping the incumbents in place (who have incentives to take risk with taxpayer money, if nothing else so they can try to show profits and slip the leash) is the worst of all worlds. Some of the big banks already have been nationalized from an economic perspective, yet we keep alive the dangerous and costly fiction that they are functioning, private concerns. The Japanese did a variant of this program via letting zombie banks hold dead loans at grossly overvalued prices and pretend to be solvent, and look how well it served them. Oh, and in the end, the banks had to take the losses.Another good post to why the PPIP is a bad idea:
Of course, as cash flows evolve, PIMROCK's $10B is wiped out entirely, as is the Treasury's investment. The FDIC gets repaid in a bunch of securities worth about $50B, taking a $70B loss. But, as Calculated Risk, likes to say "Hoocoodanode?" These were real market prices, Geithner or his successor will argue. Our private partners lost everything. There was no subsidy here.Stephanie Flanders, of the BBC, and her scepticism of the PPIP:Meanwhile, taxpayers will be out around $80B.
Why would PIMROCK go along with this? Because they feel it is their patriotic duty to work with the government for the good of the financial system, even if that involves accepting some sacrifices. And because they hold $100B in J.P. Citi of America bonds, and they've received assurances that if we can get the nation out of the financial pickle it's in, there will be no haircuts on those bonds. "Shaking hands with the government" means that nothing ever has to be put in writing.
Another article from Naked Capitalism, on why nationalisation isn't so bad, along with how Alan Blinder was being such a disingenous prick.Like nearly every finance minister in the developed world, the US treasury secretary would like US banks to offload their toxic assets at a price that both private investors and voters are happy to accept. It can't be done. Someone is going to end up sad - probably the voters.
We have fallen into the habit of taking the term "toxic" a bit too literally. These assets aren't bits of plutonium sitting in the vaults of the banks, infecting everything that comes close. They are simply assets. What's toxic about them is the fact that they don't have a market-clearing price.
Put it another way, there isn't a price that banks are willing to accept and investors are willing to pay. This is the problem that's bedevilling governments the world over and it's worth repeating. It's not that these assets have no value, as some would suggest, it's that there's no price that the banks are willing to accept.
So, all those governments have been looking for a way to bridge the gap between the banks and the market, without the taxpayer getting a raw deal. But I'm not sure there is one.
Clive Crook argues that regulators need to move faster to shut down undercapitalised banks and shadow banks, possibly by adapting the resolution methods of the Federal Deposit Insurance Corporation, which "in effect devises pre-packaged bankruptcies for troubled banks."
Matthew Yglesias on why breaking up the banks is a good idea:
My biggest concern about the PPIP approach to the banking system is that even if it works, what it does essentially is return us to the pre-crisis status quo—banks that are so large that they’re too politically powerful to regulate effective and too systemically important to be allowed to fail.Glen Greenwald on the supposed sanctity of AIG bonus contracts:
Apparently, the supreme sanctity of employment contracts applies only to some types of employees but not others. Either way, the Obama administration’s claim that nothing could be done about the AIG bonuses because AIG has solid, sacred contractual commitments to pay them is, for so many reasons, absurd on its face.TPM's brief history of AIGFP aka Ground Zero:
As any lawyer knows, there are few things more common – or easier -- than finding legal arguments that call into question the meaning and validity of contracts. Every day, commercial courts are filled with litigations between parties to seemingly clear-cut agreements. Particularly in circumstances as extreme as these, there are a litany of arguments and legal strategies that any lawyer would immediately recognize to bestow AIG with leverage either to be able to avoid these sleazy payments or force substantial concessions.
As we delve into the back-story behind the collapse of AIG, we thought it might be useful to lay out some key factual information about the firm's Financial Products unit, known as AIGFP, whose disastrous credit default swaps brought the company to its knees. How and when did AIG Financial Products get started? Who ran it, and from where? How did it get into credit default swaps, and what exactly are they, anyway? And how did this group of derivatives traders eventually wind up bringing down one of the most admired financial firms in the world?A strangely named blog on how the innumerate quants weren't just off, but way off:
just Bayesian estimators would tell you they're off by at least a factor of 2, and realistically they were off by a factor of roughly 10Martin Wolf on why a successful bank rescue is still far away:
"The conclusion, alas, is depressing. Nobody can be confident that the US yet has a workable solution to its banking disaster. On the contrary, with the public enraged, Congress on the war-path, the president timid and a policy that depends on the government’s ability to pour public money into undercapitalised institutions, the US is at an impasse.And finally, the stinger:
If the bailouts Congress has been handing out so freely haven't convinced you that we aren't really in a capitalistic society any more, nothing ever will. We're running an unholy union of capitalism and socialism right now, and I really wish we'd pick one of the two and stick with it. As it is, we get the drawbacks of both, and the benefits of neither.-Slashdot
Monday, March 23, 2009
How to make 20 dollars
don't think of being honourable
From TED: “Behavioral economist Dan Ariely studies the bugs in our moral code: the hidden reasons we think it’s OK to cheat or steal (sometimes). Clever studies help make his point that we’re predictably irrational — and can be influenced in ways we can’t grasp.”
Personal note: If I cheat, I find I generally do it on a cost/benefit analysis. There's also all sorts of weird mental accounting involved as well, which i'm standardising and streamlining. GAAP for the mind?
From TED: “Behavioral economist Dan Ariely studies the bugs in our moral code: the hidden reasons we think it’s OK to cheat or steal (sometimes). Clever studies help make his point that we’re predictably irrational — and can be influenced in ways we can’t grasp.”
Personal note: If I cheat, I find I generally do it on a cost/benefit analysis. There's also all sorts of weird mental accounting involved as well, which i'm standardising and streamlining. GAAP for the mind?
Friday, March 13, 2009
Eviscerated is about right
So you all probably know about the Jon Stewart interview of Jon Cramer that's making the rounds of the interscapes. Nate's Sean's right: this really is a not-to-be-missed interview (I recommend this one, as it's complete and uncut) that's trademark Stewart (almost) a la Crossfire, with possible similar repercussions too. Find out what the others are saying as well. Below, my impressionistic notes on the entire affair, which I should probably write up into, you know, full sentences, but I don't really do many impressionistic notes kinda stuffs, and I suspect that i'm actually better at that than full coherence.
- A cogent excoriation - a honest, sympathetic ("unfair that you've become the face of this"), searing (Stewart brought evidence with him, for fucks sake; "roll 2/12") indictment of not just financial market 'wizards', but ostensibly also those media networks dedicated to covering them: their role of whistleblowers and reportage thrown away. "CNBC could be a source of illumination" Instead, an echo chamber of hysteria, panic, misinformation and FUD.
- 'Mad as hell and not going to take it anymore!' This is what Jon Stewart and the Daily Show et al are best at: exposing the hypocrisy and corrupt complacency of the media. See also the chapter on The Media in America: The Book.
- Jon Stewart and Daily Show - The bully pulpit of the new millenium. The language he uses could come straight from a speech: "When are we going to realise in this country that our wealth is work", "A Sherman's March on our 401(k)s", "short term views of our money" [emphasis added] He ends with an anecdote about his 75-year-old mother losing money on long-term investing in the stock market. Is there any better reason why people started saying 'Stewart/Colbert '08'?
- Jon Stewart's place - he doesn't consider himself very important; yet one of the most important and influential voices in media today e.g. the torpedoing of Crossfire. This new intelligent rebuke ("you're hurting our country" redux) makes this even more explicit. Could this media influence be parlayed into something greater? Is the White House listening?
Thursday, March 12, 2009
Next up sandcastles
Ephemeral art is all around you
This is a shout out for The Wooster Collective, whom i'll probably start spamming in my Reader for the next few weeks unless/until I get over it/annoy the crap out of people i'm sharing with/make all of you subscribe. Your choice really. And don't tell me that i'm late to the game or something (because I probably am) and say you've already been subscribed to it for like 19 years or something. It's also been added as a link to my fancy new sidebar, which I really did take far too long to set up, along with some other useful passage of time devices.
Sand castles: rad. (or 'sand art and play', as pretentious wiki calls it...which reminds me, added another link!)
This is a shout out for The Wooster Collective, whom i'll probably start spamming in my Reader for the next few weeks unless/until I get over it/annoy the crap out of people i'm sharing with/make all of you subscribe. Your choice really. And don't tell me that i'm late to the game or something (because I probably am) and say you've already been subscribed to it for like 19 years or something. It's also been added as a link to my fancy new sidebar, which I really did take far too long to set up, along with some other useful passage of time devices.
Sand castles: rad. (or 'sand art and play', as pretentious wiki calls it...which reminds me, added another link!)
Monday, March 09, 2009
The scattered schizophrenic
Focus lack much
Macaroon review! This is mostly me practicing my writing chops, and more specifically my food review/tasting/writing chops. I realise that EVERY SINGLE PERSON THE WORLD OVER has food blogged at some point, but you know, practice. Also, resolving not to use the word lovely in this entire review, which is harder than it sounds given that a) i'm doing a review of macaroons, something so damn English it more or less totally fucking implies the word and b) just by thinking about not using it, all I can think about is using it.
DON'T THINK OF AN ELEPHANT
I probably should just done the review, then retroactively removed all instances of the word, but that feels too much like prescriptive rhetoric, and that's totally gross.
Okay i'm done with asides/fucking with cognition.
What i'm reviewing: Macaroons from Adriano Zumbo's, which you all should visit sometime and sample egregiously.
Macaroon the first: Blue Cheese. This probably does sound like a weird choice for a macaroon, and it is. But by god it is delicious. The perfectly mild blue cheese cuts back the sweetness of the macaroon to create this tangy kaleidoscope of flavour right in your mouth.
Macaroon the second: Earl Grey. In the interests of full disclosure, mega-kudos for using tea as an ingredient. That being said, a little underwhelming. It's basically a chocolate macaroon with tiny amounts Earl Grey tea leaves baked into the biscuit. It's great as a chocolate macaroon, and the tea adds a nice touch of tannic astringency and texture to the biscuit. Either way, I will continue loving it obstinately due to my largely unsubstantiated love of tea as an ingredient.
Macaroon the third: Feullitine. It is as difficult to pronounce as it is delicious, which means that if you have a sufficient grasp of French/Romance languages, you probably won't find this very delicious. This is what you get for learning crazy foreign tongues. Given my very weak capabilities in aforementioned contexts, I found this to be exceedingly yummy. It's a strange little baked good, as it's not quite a biscuit due to the fact it's actually full of praline. It's almost more a cake, what with the way it's layered and how it's much more crumbly than soft and chewy as per all the other macaroons. A welcome alternative to plain ol' chocolate.
Macaroon the fourth: Liquorice. In addition to the somewhat unusual colour (it's coal black with a pale yellow ring running around it), the flavour is pretty funky. As expected, it's quite liquoricy, but it's also quite sweet. I understand that liqourice is an acquired taste and all, so any closet liquorice junkies might find their cravings satisfied. I'm not quite in that camp yet, so I was just left a little mystified at how any of those people can like the taste of aniseed so damn much.
Macaroon the fifth: Yoghurt and Chilli. This one is currently winning in the interestingness scale, and probably one of the more bizarre food experiences i've had. It starts off quite tart, almost sour from the yoghurt, which progresses into a sweet, lemony middle and then just ends in a full blown blast of chili right onto your tongue. It's wonderfully disorientating. Does the yoghurt or the sugar or something numb the particular receptors on your tongue for tasting chili or something? Definitely worth trying. I have no idea on whether a repeat performance is required though.
Macaroon the sixth: Pineapple and Ginger. Bewildered and still smarting from that little burst of chili from the previous macaroon, I stumbled onto this very sweet morsel of pineapple and a whole lotta ginger. It probably tasted much sweeter than it does due to the contrast effect from the previous macaroon, but I really liked it. There's lots of zesty pineapple flavour in this, and you better love ginger; I found a crystallised piece of ginger within the filling, which just amps up the sweetness factor of this.
Did I mention how much I hate doing conclusions?
Macaroon review! This is mostly me practicing my writing chops, and more specifically my food review/tasting/writing chops. I realise that EVERY SINGLE PERSON THE WORLD OVER has food blogged at some point, but you know, practice. Also, resolving not to use the word lovely in this entire review, which is harder than it sounds given that a) i'm doing a review of macaroons, something so damn English it more or less totally fucking implies the word and b) just by thinking about not using it, all I can think about is using it.
DON'T THINK OF AN ELEPHANT
I probably should just done the review, then retroactively removed all instances of the word, but that feels too much like prescriptive rhetoric, and that's totally gross.
Okay i'm done with asides/fucking with cognition.
What i'm reviewing: Macaroons from Adriano Zumbo's, which you all should visit sometime and sample egregiously.
Macaroon the first: Blue Cheese. This probably does sound like a weird choice for a macaroon, and it is. But by god it is delicious. The perfectly mild blue cheese cuts back the sweetness of the macaroon to create this tangy kaleidoscope of flavour right in your mouth.
Macaroon the second: Earl Grey. In the interests of full disclosure, mega-kudos for using tea as an ingredient. That being said, a little underwhelming. It's basically a chocolate macaroon with tiny amounts Earl Grey tea leaves baked into the biscuit. It's great as a chocolate macaroon, and the tea adds a nice touch of tannic astringency and texture to the biscuit. Either way, I will continue loving it obstinately due to my largely unsubstantiated love of tea as an ingredient.
Macaroon the third: Feullitine. It is as difficult to pronounce as it is delicious, which means that if you have a sufficient grasp of French/Romance languages, you probably won't find this very delicious. This is what you get for learning crazy foreign tongues. Given my very weak capabilities in aforementioned contexts, I found this to be exceedingly yummy. It's a strange little baked good, as it's not quite a biscuit due to the fact it's actually full of praline. It's almost more a cake, what with the way it's layered and how it's much more crumbly than soft and chewy as per all the other macaroons. A welcome alternative to plain ol' chocolate.
Macaroon the fourth: Liquorice. In addition to the somewhat unusual colour (it's coal black with a pale yellow ring running around it), the flavour is pretty funky. As expected, it's quite liquoricy, but it's also quite sweet. I understand that liqourice is an acquired taste and all, so any closet liquorice junkies might find their cravings satisfied. I'm not quite in that camp yet, so I was just left a little mystified at how any of those people can like the taste of aniseed so damn much.
Macaroon the fifth: Yoghurt and Chilli. This one is currently winning in the interestingness scale, and probably one of the more bizarre food experiences i've had. It starts off quite tart, almost sour from the yoghurt, which progresses into a sweet, lemony middle and then just ends in a full blown blast of chili right onto your tongue. It's wonderfully disorientating. Does the yoghurt or the sugar or something numb the particular receptors on your tongue for tasting chili or something? Definitely worth trying. I have no idea on whether a repeat performance is required though.
Macaroon the sixth: Pineapple and Ginger. Bewildered and still smarting from that little burst of chili from the previous macaroon, I stumbled onto this very sweet morsel of pineapple and a whole lotta ginger. It probably tasted much sweeter than it does due to the contrast effect from the previous macaroon, but I really liked it. There's lots of zesty pineapple flavour in this, and you better love ginger; I found a crystallised piece of ginger within the filling, which just amps up the sweetness factor of this.
Did I mention how much I hate doing conclusions?
Thursday, March 05, 2009
A counterexample, of sorts
A truly great American author
It probably is weird that a overdue library notice inspires me to write these sorts of things, but that's not truly accurate, really. It's just one of many, many neuronal firings, but it's a cute one to pin down when you want to start something that seems more than a touch craven. I'm being a publicist, even for a good cause, but it still makes you feel dirty.
The Google Readerites among you are no doubt aware of my somewhat glib note that was appended to the share of this article in the New Yorker. That piece was accompanied (or vice versa, or side-by-side) by a magnificent, bracing and epic mini-biography of David Foster Wallace which is thoroughly deserving of your attention, and to accompany that, a response.
Here's a comment from the latter article for an idea of the level of devotion DFW inspires:
It probably is weird that a overdue library notice inspires me to write these sorts of things, but that's not truly accurate, really. It's just one of many, many neuronal firings, but it's a cute one to pin down when you want to start something that seems more than a touch craven. I'm being a publicist, even for a good cause, but it still makes you feel dirty.
The Google Readerites among you are no doubt aware of my somewhat glib note that was appended to the share of this article in the New Yorker. That piece was accompanied (or vice versa, or side-by-side) by a magnificent, bracing and epic mini-biography of David Foster Wallace which is thoroughly deserving of your attention, and to accompany that, a response.
Here's a comment from the latter article for an idea of the level of devotion DFW inspires:
I'm just glad that I'm not the only one out there who didn't know DFW personally but still experienced his death as a personal blow. Talking about it certainly helps. Reading, too. I've read every book/novel/collection he published. Including the book on the lemniscate-symbol, which I barely understood but still enjoyed reading. I've also started reading the American Heritage Dictionary, because DFW was on the Usage Panel. It's kind of sad how desperate I am to connect with the man's writing. [italics added]
Wednesday, March 04, 2009
Appreciate someone else's writing for a change
Look at this:
Consider a case report in The Annals of Thoracic Surgery of a three-year-old girl who fell into an icy fishpond in a small Austrian town in the Alps. She was lost beneath the surface for thirty minutes before her parents found her on the pond bottom and pulled her up. Following instructions from an emergency physician on the phone, they began cardiopulmonary resuscitation. A rescue team arrived eight minutes later. The girl had a body temperature of sixty-six degrees, and no pulse. Her pupils were dilated and did not react to light, indicating that her brain was no longer working.Dear god modern medicine is fucking crazy awesome. The bit where they cut her chest open and sew lines into her heart to oxygenate her blood is...too much for words. Why doesn't this make the news more often? There's far far more I could say about the article, but I just won't.But the emergency technicians continued CPR anyway. A helicopter took her to a nearby hospital, where she was wheeled directly to an operating room. A surgical team put her on a heart-lung bypass machine. Between the transport time and the time it took to plug the inflow and outflow lines into the femoral vessels of her right leg, she had been lifeless for an hour and a half. By the two-hour mark, however, her body temperature had risen almost ten degrees, and her heart began to beat. It was her first organ to come back.
After six hours, her core temperature reached 98.6 degrees. The team tried to put her on a breathing machine, but the pond water had damaged her lungs too severely for oxygen to reach her blood. So they switched her to an artificial-lung system known as ECMO—extracorporeal membrane oxygenation. The surgeons opened her chest down the middle with a power saw and sewed lines to and from the ECMO unit into her aorta and her beating heart. The team moved the girl into intensive care, with her chest still open and covered with plastic foil. A day later, her lungs had recovered sufficiently for the team to switch her from ECMO to a mechanical ventilator and close her chest. Over the next two days, all her organs recovered except her brain. A CT scan showed global brain swelling, which is a sign of diffuse damage, but no actual dead zones. So the team drilled a hole into the girl’s skull, threaded in a probe to monitor her cerebral pressure, and kept that pressure tightly controlled by constantly adjusting her fluids and medications. For more than a week, she lay comatose. Then, slowly, she came back to life.
First, her pupils started to react to light. Next, she began to breathe on her own. And, one day, she simply awoke. Two weeks after her accident, she went home. Her right leg and left arm were partially paralyzed. Her speech was thick and slurry. But by age five, after extensive outpatient therapy, she had recovered her faculties completely. She was like any little girl again.
Sunday, March 01, 2009
We're talking about
writing
I'm interested to know how people write. By that I don't mean the writing itself, not syntax, prose or locution but rather the actual physical mode they write in.
Are you lying down? (perhaps you should sit, that might help) Or sitting upright? (trying lying down and relaxing) Or standing even? (too much strain) What's around you? Lots of clutter? (organise them and they'll organise you) Completely minimalist? (try adding some junk, it'll give you something to think about) Books for inspiration? (maybe you should move them, they can be very distracting) Or only the ticking of a clock or the whirring of a fan? (read a book, you're not getting anything done anyway)
Do you have a cup of coffee? (maybe you should cut down. It's making you anxious) Or are you a tea person? (ditto) Perhaps nothing at all, save some water? (have you tried coffee or tea? It helps you focus) Cigarettes? (if yes, maybe you should quit, it's making you scattered. If not, have you considered picking it up? A lot of writers smoke)
What time is it? Are you writing in the morning? (too early, go back to sleep) The afternoon? (it's too hot) In the evening or the night? (you're too tired from the day. Perhaps you should do this in the morning) Are there windows near where you write? (take a break and look outside. Move away from them, they're going to sidetrack you) Are you indoors (so sterile, go outside into the fresh air) or outdoors? (weather's unpredictable, have you tried going inside?) Is the door open (that's just an invite for people to bother you) or closed? (the room's going to get stuffy, open the door)
What are you writing on? (isn't there something more important that you need to do?) Are you handwriting? (so tiring and slow, try modernizing) Using a typewriter? (noisy clacking, try the soft scribbles and scratches of handwriting) Or a computer keyboard is the thing for you? (that screen glare is so harsh, typewriters and handwriting is so much more romantic)
In the interests of full disclosure: I am currently sitting down on my bed, with my legs over the side and touching the floor, and there are cables and wires and god knows what junk around me. There's a fan whirring, my door is open, and I can hear some background noise from whatever television or computer or audiovisual appliance is operating. It is night, and the windows are blinded. And obviously, I'm writing on my laptop, which is sitting on my lap.
I'm interested to know how people write. By that I don't mean the writing itself, not syntax, prose or locution but rather the actual physical mode they write in.
Are you lying down? (perhaps you should sit, that might help) Or sitting upright? (trying lying down and relaxing) Or standing even? (too much strain) What's around you? Lots of clutter? (organise them and they'll organise you) Completely minimalist? (try adding some junk, it'll give you something to think about) Books for inspiration? (maybe you should move them, they can be very distracting) Or only the ticking of a clock or the whirring of a fan? (read a book, you're not getting anything done anyway)
Do you have a cup of coffee? (maybe you should cut down. It's making you anxious) Or are you a tea person? (ditto) Perhaps nothing at all, save some water? (have you tried coffee or tea? It helps you focus) Cigarettes? (if yes, maybe you should quit, it's making you scattered. If not, have you considered picking it up? A lot of writers smoke)
What time is it? Are you writing in the morning? (too early, go back to sleep) The afternoon? (it's too hot) In the evening or the night? (you're too tired from the day. Perhaps you should do this in the morning) Are there windows near where you write? (take a break and look outside. Move away from them, they're going to sidetrack you) Are you indoors (so sterile, go outside into the fresh air) or outdoors? (weather's unpredictable, have you tried going inside?) Is the door open (that's just an invite for people to bother you) or closed? (the room's going to get stuffy, open the door)
What are you writing on? (isn't there something more important that you need to do?) Are you handwriting? (so tiring and slow, try modernizing) Using a typewriter? (noisy clacking, try the soft scribbles and scratches of handwriting) Or a computer keyboard is the thing for you? (that screen glare is so harsh, typewriters and handwriting is so much more romantic)
In the interests of full disclosure: I am currently sitting down on my bed, with my legs over the side and touching the floor, and there are cables and wires and god knows what junk around me. There's a fan whirring, my door is open, and I can hear some background noise from whatever television or computer or audiovisual appliance is operating. It is night, and the windows are blinded. And obviously, I'm writing on my laptop, which is sitting on my lap.
And as we wrap one up
Another one starts
Festival wrap time! I went to a grand total offourteen sixteen events during this Festivale that is of Sydney, and am cataloging for bragging/catalogue purposes. Also, because I did it last year as well. Featuring cameos from other events that I also went that weren't Sydney Festival, but were awesome anyway!
Thursday, January 15th:
After an enjoyable (if tardy) birthday observance the day before, kicked off teh Festival by going to Darling Harbour to see Run Lola Run with The Bays. My god these were popular; Darling Harbour was packed out for all of these performances, and to be fair, they are quite awesome, as free events go. This particular showing was entertaing, if not edifying; the movie is solid, the music was good. While I don't think it really elevated the movie into something fantastic, The Bays (who incidentally, and interestingly, do only improvised music) gave a energetic, thumping performance that fit into the movie quite well. Night downside: the delay in the beginning due to the inclement weather, which then proceeded to be further inclement and rain on us. This really doesn't help when you have a bony ass and you're sitting on hard concrete for several hours.
Friday, January 16th:
Hoo boy, did this kick ever so much ass. Darling Harbour again, except this time with Bruce-fucking-Lee in Enter The Dragon, with an absolutely fantastic soundtrack by Karsh Kale and Midival Punditz. Initially, it looked to be a repeat of the previous night, what with the sky looking dangerous and all, but it turned out to be amazing. The movie itself is incredibly fun, with the cheesy stereotypes and deliciously great choreographing, but having a sitar and flute, along with other electronic aids really helped put this over the top. Great movie, great music, good weather = fun night out.
Saturday, January 17th:
Two event day! First up was Jazz in the Domain, which I feel was better than last years, by the Spanish Harlem Orchestra. This isn't due to artisitic differences or nuthin', it just seems this year they managed to find the freaking volume knob. Jazz in the Domain is always popular, ridiculously so, and I could not hear the music at all last year over the din of the crowd. So, upside this year. Again, massive crowds, good music (and much chest and booty-shaking) and that matronly Macedonian singer. Good times.
Second event: My first secret show of the Festival! It turns out, the secret show was Ben Walsh doing a sneak preview of the performance that he was planning to give at Darling Harbour! So I got to see the world premiere of the performance, and 15 or so performers who jammed themselves into the tiny and lovely Bosco theatre. Instruments included: Guitar (acoustic and electric), violin, cello, piano accordion, clarinet, french horn, keyboard, sitar, tablas, drums (obviously), live mixing, voice and a guy doing some scratching. It was an impressive lineup.
The actual affair had a few hiccups: they chose to use the dubbed version of the movie, it was difficult to hear the dialogue over the music at times, and there was some painful feedback issues. Still, it was a good night: the movie is a weird, psychedelic, surrealist take on power and rebellion and politics. Or something. It's supposed to be a parable of the Soviet invasion of Czechoslovakia. I shit you not. The music was impressive, rather than transformative, but there were a few charming touches in there that made it a lot better. Especially that scene with the egg hatching and that thing licking it.
Sunday, January 18th:
St. Vincent! Or the ever-lovely and multi-talented Annie Clark, playing songs off her album that was named after Arrested Development. FTW. She also played a great cover of Dig a Pony. The Speigeltent is a beautiful, beautiful place, and I want it to never ever leave.
Also, these are going to get shorter, because I am tired, and there's a lot, lot more to write about. I'm only at event four, for chrissakes.
Monday, January 19th:
NO FESTIVAL EVENT WAS GONE TO. However! I did go to my first Kino Sydney, which I had been putting off for many many months. And now I regret that. Kino is a wonderful, wonderful institution that I hope stays around for many many years. Liquor, food, and acrobats: three things you can never get enough of. This finished around 11ish, which leads into...
Tuesday, January 20th:
...going to Sam's new place to sleep for three hours and then get up stupidly early to get Bon Iver tickets! 3.30am is not a time I wish to wake at. But wake I did, and then proceeded to sit in Martin Place for 4 hours in order to get tickets for Bon Iver, which we (being me and Sam and Bob) did. It was quite fun, as we played DS and listened to music and read. It was great, in that way sadomasochistic rituals are.
The event itself: ROCKED. Definitely one of the best gigs of this year, and possibly the best gig this year that i've seen so far. I know, it's early, but I've seen a lot of gigs already this year, and this was amazing. Again, the Spiegeltent is a magical magical place, and Justin Vernon added to this magic with his wonderful voice. He was funny, he was charming, he was magnificent. Recommended.
Wednesday, January 21st:
Second secret show! Carl Einar-Hackner, of La Clique did a solo show at the Bosco theatre. It was basically a solo show of all the material he does for La Clique, so if you saw that you'll know what I'm talking about. Having not seen La Clique before this, this was quite enjoyable. The banana/bandana thing is extremely hilarious. In addition, I got to see Vulgargrad, a seven-piece Melbourian band that sports a contrabass balalaika, and whose frontman is the guy who sang Roxanne in Moulin Rouge. Fun! Also, he sounds like swallowed a driveways worth of gravel. It is awesome.
Thursday, January 22nd:
I do not trust buses and their ability to convey me places on time. I was 15? 20? mins late to Camille because of said bus not coming for 20 mins. That was irritating. What was not irritating though, was the show, despite the three encores, which was kind of silly. Also, I thought of a better venue: The Opera House Concert Hall. Or The Studio even.
In addition: More Vulgargrad!
Friday, January 23rd:
I went to Daniel's house, returned some shirts, played some dota, then proceeded to Marrickville for some early morning getting up for...
Saturday, January 24th:
...a much longer day than I had anticipated. We got up at 4.40 to go see the Dawn Chorus at Clifton Heights in Vaucluse. You would not believe the number of people apparently willing to do this. Fun quote from choir performer: "This is the strangest concert experience i've ever had." Awesome.
Then, I am contacted to fill a seat in the Sydney Theatre. For 8 hours. Huzzah for endurance theatre! War Of The Roses was very good (Blanchett especially; she completely dominates the first act of the first part), if a little tiring at times. The spitting blood thing gets a little old, and Falstaff gets a BJ now? Shakes be a freaky old dude. I also got to go to Arras, which was delicious and astonishing, in their ability to push the boundaries of salad and cucumber capabilities.
Technically, this is a three event day, because War Of The Roses is a two-parter. I am Festivalling it up. Unfortunately, I missed out on going to Symphony in the Domain, but that is an acceptable tradeoff.
Sunday, January 25th:
Chabbseses! Wherein beer was consumed, matters were discussed, and salad was made and eaten using the Tetsuya's vinaigrette. Which was fun. Then, Reggie Watts, and his unique brand of off-the-wall and singer-songwriter humour. It was good. "Fuck shit stack" indeed.
Monday, January 26th:
On this day of Australia, there were no good Festival Events to partake of. Instead, fun was had going to Oliver's house and watching Ausploitation movies. It is a strange and somewhat baffling genre, which never the less is quite entertaining. Patrick was the best film of that particular marathon, which really speaks volumes for the quality of these celluloid misfits.
Tuesday, January 27th:
Thanks to the absurd dedication of some of my friends (like staying in Martin Place from 1am), I was obtained a ticket to Glen Hansard and The Frames. He/they were lovely and fiddled and fingered and plucked as appropriate to make lovely music. And I should emphasise lovely, in that very Britannia way that lovely indicates. Falling Slowly lived up to and gently met expectations.
Wednesday, January 28th:
No event was gone to. Which was probably a good things, as by some accounts, Four Tet was shit.
Thursday, January 29th:
No event was gone to, however we did end up getting up stupidly early for...
Friday, January 30th:
...buying tickets to La Clique! A 4.30am start ensures success in this endevour, and La Clique is really quite amazing. Funny and cute and oh so ridiculously sexy at times. Any show that opens very quickly into frontal nudity has my ticket.
And a second two event night, with Meow Meow rounding out the festival. By turns cabaret, by turns viciously funny, by turns audience participation (with cameos by the twins from La Clique, the man who played the queen in La Clique, and as always, The Bunny) with a wonderful cover of fake plastic trees thrown in. I was contemplating seeing her a second time on the Saturday, but I was much too tired, and it was unnecessary.
So there you go. My sixteen event festival, in list form:
1. Run Lola Run, with The Bays
2. Enter the Dragon, with Karsh Kale and Midival Punditz
3. Jazz in the Domain, with Gypsy Kings and Queens
4. Fantastic Planet, with Ben Walsh and the Orkestra of the Underground
5. St Vincent at the Spiegeltent
6. Bon Iver at the Spiegeltent
7. Carl-Einar Hacker at the Bosco Theater
8. Camille at Angel Place Recital Hall
9. Vulgargrad at the Spiegeltent
10. Dawn Chorus at Clifton Heights, Vaucluse
11. War of the Roses, Part One at the Sydney Theatre
(Arras should definitely be bracketed here, it was quite great)
12. War of the Roses, Part Two at the Sydney Theatre
13. Reggie Watts at the Bosco Theatre
14. Glen Hansard and The Frames at the Sydney Opera House Concert Hall
15. La Clique at the Spiegeltent
16. Meow Meow at the Bosco Theatre
Now, you may all be suitably jealous and/or overawed at the paragon of culture that I clearly am.
EDIT: Because I'm an Arts student and clearly cannot count, I seem to have overlooked certain events I attended. A recount shows that I actually made sixteen Festival events and not fourteen as I previously surmised. This just makes me more awesome I guess. Also, this has been written in two parts, so the wildly inconsistent writing style is due to me taking a loooong break from this and coming back to in a very different frame of writing mindset.
Festival wrap time! I went to a grand total of
Thursday, January 15th:
After an enjoyable (if tardy) birthday observance the day before, kicked off teh Festival by going to Darling Harbour to see Run Lola Run with The Bays. My god these were popular; Darling Harbour was packed out for all of these performances, and to be fair, they are quite awesome, as free events go. This particular showing was entertaing, if not edifying; the movie is solid, the music was good. While I don't think it really elevated the movie into something fantastic, The Bays (who incidentally, and interestingly, do only improvised music) gave a energetic, thumping performance that fit into the movie quite well. Night downside: the delay in the beginning due to the inclement weather, which then proceeded to be further inclement and rain on us. This really doesn't help when you have a bony ass and you're sitting on hard concrete for several hours.
Friday, January 16th:
Hoo boy, did this kick ever so much ass. Darling Harbour again, except this time with Bruce-fucking-Lee in Enter The Dragon, with an absolutely fantastic soundtrack by Karsh Kale and Midival Punditz. Initially, it looked to be a repeat of the previous night, what with the sky looking dangerous and all, but it turned out to be amazing. The movie itself is incredibly fun, with the cheesy stereotypes and deliciously great choreographing, but having a sitar and flute, along with other electronic aids really helped put this over the top. Great movie, great music, good weather = fun night out.
Saturday, January 17th:
Two event day! First up was Jazz in the Domain, which I feel was better than last years, by the Spanish Harlem Orchestra. This isn't due to artisitic differences or nuthin', it just seems this year they managed to find the freaking volume knob. Jazz in the Domain is always popular, ridiculously so, and I could not hear the music at all last year over the din of the crowd. So, upside this year. Again, massive crowds, good music (and much chest and booty-shaking) and that matronly Macedonian singer. Good times.
Second event: My first secret show of the Festival! It turns out, the secret show was Ben Walsh doing a sneak preview of the performance that he was planning to give at Darling Harbour! So I got to see the world premiere of the performance, and 15 or so performers who jammed themselves into the tiny and lovely Bosco theatre. Instruments included: Guitar (acoustic and electric), violin, cello, piano accordion, clarinet, french horn, keyboard, sitar, tablas, drums (obviously), live mixing, voice and a guy doing some scratching. It was an impressive lineup.
The actual affair had a few hiccups: they chose to use the dubbed version of the movie, it was difficult to hear the dialogue over the music at times, and there was some painful feedback issues. Still, it was a good night: the movie is a weird, psychedelic, surrealist take on power and rebellion and politics. Or something. It's supposed to be a parable of the Soviet invasion of Czechoslovakia. I shit you not. The music was impressive, rather than transformative, but there were a few charming touches in there that made it a lot better. Especially that scene with the egg hatching and that thing licking it.
Sunday, January 18th:
St. Vincent! Or the ever-lovely and multi-talented Annie Clark, playing songs off her album that was named after Arrested Development. FTW. She also played a great cover of Dig a Pony. The Speigeltent is a beautiful, beautiful place, and I want it to never ever leave.
Also, these are going to get shorter, because I am tired, and there's a lot, lot more to write about. I'm only at event four, for chrissakes.
Monday, January 19th:
NO FESTIVAL EVENT WAS GONE TO. However! I did go to my first Kino Sydney, which I had been putting off for many many months. And now I regret that. Kino is a wonderful, wonderful institution that I hope stays around for many many years. Liquor, food, and acrobats: three things you can never get enough of. This finished around 11ish, which leads into...
Tuesday, January 20th:
...going to Sam's new place to sleep for three hours and then get up stupidly early to get Bon Iver tickets! 3.30am is not a time I wish to wake at. But wake I did, and then proceeded to sit in Martin Place for 4 hours in order to get tickets for Bon Iver, which we (being me and Sam and Bob) did. It was quite fun, as we played DS and listened to music and read. It was great, in that way sadomasochistic rituals are.
The event itself: ROCKED. Definitely one of the best gigs of this year, and possibly the best gig this year that i've seen so far. I know, it's early, but I've seen a lot of gigs already this year, and this was amazing. Again, the Spiegeltent is a magical magical place, and Justin Vernon added to this magic with his wonderful voice. He was funny, he was charming, he was magnificent. Recommended.
Wednesday, January 21st:
Second secret show! Carl Einar-Hackner, of La Clique did a solo show at the Bosco theatre. It was basically a solo show of all the material he does for La Clique, so if you saw that you'll know what I'm talking about. Having not seen La Clique before this, this was quite enjoyable. The banana/bandana thing is extremely hilarious. In addition, I got to see Vulgargrad, a seven-piece Melbourian band that sports a contrabass balalaika, and whose frontman is the guy who sang Roxanne in Moulin Rouge. Fun! Also, he sounds like swallowed a driveways worth of gravel. It is awesome.
Thursday, January 22nd:
I do not trust buses and their ability to convey me places on time. I was 15? 20? mins late to Camille because of said bus not coming for 20 mins. That was irritating. What was not irritating though, was the show, despite the three encores, which was kind of silly. Also, I thought of a better venue: The Opera House Concert Hall. Or The Studio even.
In addition: More Vulgargrad!
Friday, January 23rd:
I went to Daniel's house, returned some shirts, played some dota, then proceeded to Marrickville for some early morning getting up for...
Saturday, January 24th:
...a much longer day than I had anticipated. We got up at 4.40 to go see the Dawn Chorus at Clifton Heights in Vaucluse. You would not believe the number of people apparently willing to do this. Fun quote from choir performer: "This is the strangest concert experience i've ever had." Awesome.
Then, I am contacted to fill a seat in the Sydney Theatre. For 8 hours. Huzzah for endurance theatre! War Of The Roses was very good (Blanchett especially; she completely dominates the first act of the first part), if a little tiring at times. The spitting blood thing gets a little old, and Falstaff gets a BJ now? Shakes be a freaky old dude. I also got to go to Arras, which was delicious and astonishing, in their ability to push the boundaries of salad and cucumber capabilities.
Technically, this is a three event day, because War Of The Roses is a two-parter. I am Festivalling it up. Unfortunately, I missed out on going to Symphony in the Domain, but that is an acceptable tradeoff.
Sunday, January 25th:
Chabbseses! Wherein beer was consumed, matters were discussed, and salad was made and eaten using the Tetsuya's vinaigrette. Which was fun. Then, Reggie Watts, and his unique brand of off-the-wall and singer-songwriter humour. It was good. "Fuck shit stack" indeed.
Monday, January 26th:
On this day of Australia, there were no good Festival Events to partake of. Instead, fun was had going to Oliver's house and watching Ausploitation movies. It is a strange and somewhat baffling genre, which never the less is quite entertaining. Patrick was the best film of that particular marathon, which really speaks volumes for the quality of these celluloid misfits.
Tuesday, January 27th:
Thanks to the absurd dedication of some of my friends (like staying in Martin Place from 1am), I was obtained a ticket to Glen Hansard and The Frames. He/they were lovely and fiddled and fingered and plucked as appropriate to make lovely music. And I should emphasise lovely, in that very Britannia way that lovely indicates. Falling Slowly lived up to and gently met expectations.
Wednesday, January 28th:
No event was gone to. Which was probably a good things, as by some accounts, Four Tet was shit.
Thursday, January 29th:
No event was gone to, however we did end up getting up stupidly early for...
Friday, January 30th:
...buying tickets to La Clique! A 4.30am start ensures success in this endevour, and La Clique is really quite amazing. Funny and cute and oh so ridiculously sexy at times. Any show that opens very quickly into frontal nudity has my ticket.
And a second two event night, with Meow Meow rounding out the festival. By turns cabaret, by turns viciously funny, by turns audience participation (with cameos by the twins from La Clique, the man who played the queen in La Clique, and as always, The Bunny) with a wonderful cover of fake plastic trees thrown in. I was contemplating seeing her a second time on the Saturday, but I was much too tired, and it was unnecessary.
So there you go. My sixteen event festival, in list form:
1. Run Lola Run, with The Bays
2. Enter the Dragon, with Karsh Kale and Midival Punditz
3. Jazz in the Domain, with Gypsy Kings and Queens
4. Fantastic Planet, with Ben Walsh and the Orkestra of the Underground
5. St Vincent at the Spiegeltent
6. Bon Iver at the Spiegeltent
7. Carl-Einar Hacker at the Bosco Theater
8. Camille at Angel Place Recital Hall
9. Vulgargrad at the Spiegeltent
10. Dawn Chorus at Clifton Heights, Vaucluse
11. War of the Roses, Part One at the Sydney Theatre
(Arras should definitely be bracketed here, it was quite great)
12. War of the Roses, Part Two at the Sydney Theatre
13. Reggie Watts at the Bosco Theatre
14. Glen Hansard and The Frames at the Sydney Opera House Concert Hall
15. La Clique at the Spiegeltent
16. Meow Meow at the Bosco Theatre
Now, you may all be suitably jealous and/or overawed at the paragon of culture that I clearly am.
EDIT: Because I'm an Arts student and clearly cannot count, I seem to have overlooked certain events I attended. A recount shows that I actually made sixteen Festival events and not fourteen as I previously surmised. This just makes me more awesome I guess. Also, this has been written in two parts, so the wildly inconsistent writing style is due to me taking a loooong break from this and coming back to in a very different frame of writing mindset.
Saturday, February 21, 2009
So, um, like a coda I guess
To those of you who aren't Brendan, this probably won't make as much sense, but sense it will make! If I can help it. I'm trying to keep this short, as I need to sleep soon and i'm tired.
So continuing on with my internalism rant (Brendan), consider this: Imagine a person who set herself extremely high standards on cookie consumption. This person will not eat a cookie unless she thinks it is truly and utterly marvelous.
Now, over the years, this person has access to many cookies, but does not partake of them, as they do not conform to her very exclusive cookie standards. Unfortunately for her, her standards are arguably too high; the deliciousness of the kind of cookie she craves is of mythical proportions (atleast to her), so it is highly improbable or just plain unaffordable for her to ever obtain such a cookie. And alas, she dies, thus never having tasted a cookie of any kind in this world.
The point i'm making with this tragic tale is: Is it possible for us to say this person has low standards of cookie consumption, in any meaningful, honest sense?
Note I should probably make, just to ward off any peripheral objections and cause it makes this even more fun: Let's also assume that aforementioned person was being sincere in her intentions, and that she really did possess such high standards on her cookies, which we can verify through some kind of infallible lie detector or something. She wasn't a poseur; when challenged by others on her lack of cookie consumption, she wasn't just saying 'I have high standards on cookie eating' in order to cover her real reasons, such as she didn't have access to any or material lack or somesuch; she genuinely had certain rigourous standards that she wished to maintain.
Answering the question: To me, all you seem to be really able to say in this is that no, we can't say that she has low standards of cookie consumption; we may be able to say that she has very misguided ideas on cookie standards (though, this is atleast somewhat subjective; I should probably add that she didn't look down nor condescend others who ate such cookies she felt beneath her standards; she just felt those kind of cookies weren't for her. They were just not to her taste, so to speak.)
We can probably quite robustly say that she was instrumentally quite silly, and possibly also in a welfare sense that she was penalising herself; she probably would have liked those cookies, had she just compromised and eaten them. But from a principled, philosophical point of view, I don't think we can say with any intellectual force that she had low standards. She had standards, which she abided by, even if those standards were in a sense detrimental to her overall well-being. What's probably also important to note is that her standards as such stand outside of an experiential framework; she doesn't neccessarily need experience to in order to correctly abide by her standards, nor does she need experience to tell people that she has not eaten cookies because of her standards.
Also, if that last sentence of the paragraph above this doesn't makes no sense, ask me and i'll try and explain. It makes sense to me, but i'm just not aware at this early hour how to write it any better.
EDIT: To expand on this a teensy bit more (because I am unable to sleep thinking this over, and this just came to me about 10 minutes later): In fact not only can we not say she has low standards, I don't we can say with any credibility that she doesn't have high standards. If we assume that having high standards obliges you to some particular course of action, and we can safely say she was being honest in the assertions of her standards, she seems to have followed that course of action as obliged by her high standards.
Whatever I talked about with regards to the internalism thing (which I probably will rename to 'the fallacy of privileging experience' or something along those lines, because it is very confusing having all these things named internalism) i'll quickly summarise and throw up whenever I can.
So continuing on with my internalism rant (Brendan), consider this: Imagine a person who set herself extremely high standards on cookie consumption. This person will not eat a cookie unless she thinks it is truly and utterly marvelous.
Now, over the years, this person has access to many cookies, but does not partake of them, as they do not conform to her very exclusive cookie standards. Unfortunately for her, her standards are arguably too high; the deliciousness of the kind of cookie she craves is of mythical proportions (atleast to her), so it is highly improbable or just plain unaffordable for her to ever obtain such a cookie. And alas, she dies, thus never having tasted a cookie of any kind in this world.
The point i'm making with this tragic tale is: Is it possible for us to say this person has low standards of cookie consumption, in any meaningful, honest sense?
Note I should probably make, just to ward off any peripheral objections and cause it makes this even more fun: Let's also assume that aforementioned person was being sincere in her intentions, and that she really did possess such high standards on her cookies, which we can verify through some kind of infallible lie detector or something. She wasn't a poseur; when challenged by others on her lack of cookie consumption, she wasn't just saying 'I have high standards on cookie eating' in order to cover her real reasons, such as she didn't have access to any or material lack or somesuch; she genuinely had certain rigourous standards that she wished to maintain.
Answering the question: To me, all you seem to be really able to say in this is that no, we can't say that she has low standards of cookie consumption; we may be able to say that she has very misguided ideas on cookie standards (though, this is atleast somewhat subjective; I should probably add that she didn't look down nor condescend others who ate such cookies she felt beneath her standards; she just felt those kind of cookies weren't for her. They were just not to her taste, so to speak.)
We can probably quite robustly say that she was instrumentally quite silly, and possibly also in a welfare sense that she was penalising herself; she probably would have liked those cookies, had she just compromised and eaten them. But from a principled, philosophical point of view, I don't think we can say with any intellectual force that she had low standards. She had standards, which she abided by, even if those standards were in a sense detrimental to her overall well-being. What's probably also important to note is that her standards as such stand outside of an experiential framework; she doesn't neccessarily need experience to in order to correctly abide by her standards, nor does she need experience to tell people that she has not eaten cookies because of her standards.
Also, if that last sentence of the paragraph above this doesn't makes no sense, ask me and i'll try and explain. It makes sense to me, but i'm just not aware at this early hour how to write it any better.
EDIT: To expand on this a teensy bit more (because I am unable to sleep thinking this over, and this just came to me about 10 minutes later): In fact not only can we not say she has low standards, I don't we can say with any credibility that she doesn't have high standards. If we assume that having high standards obliges you to some particular course of action, and we can safely say she was being honest in the assertions of her standards, she seems to have followed that course of action as obliged by her high standards.
Whatever I talked about with regards to the internalism thing (which I probably will rename to 'the fallacy of privileging experience' or something along those lines, because it is very confusing having all these things named internalism) i'll quickly summarise and throw up whenever I can.
Thursday, February 19, 2009
This should go elsewhere
But shelves are shelves, and i'll take what I can.
Wait. There's a whole lotta misinterpretation possible in that statement.
Your chanson of the week, reminding you of the joys of indulgence:
The art direction is especially lovely.
Comments and input! Should I write something on internalism, and just how stupid it is? The problem(s) is(are) that I think that what I want to write about is so obvious (how dangerous that word) that either it is a) a truism b) unnecessary or c) a waste of everyones' time. Or all of the above. I'm wondering why I even want to do it; is it a fault of society, the company I keep, or god forbid, me, that motivates me to do this? It's all very unusual, and not at all helpful in the least.
Wait. There's a whole lotta misinterpretation possible in that statement.
Your chanson of the week, reminding you of the joys of indulgence:
The art direction is especially lovely.
Comments and input! Should I write something on internalism, and just how stupid it is? The problem(s) is(are) that I think that what I want to write about is so obvious (how dangerous that word) that either it is a) a truism b) unnecessary or c) a waste of everyones' time. Or all of the above. I'm wondering why I even want to do it; is it a fault of society, the company I keep, or god forbid, me, that motivates me to do this? It's all very unusual, and not at all helpful in the least.
Wednesday, February 11, 2009
I'm gonna need to see an environmental impact assessment
for this dam you're building on the stream-of-consciousness.
We apologise for any interruption caused.
A singular passage I have singularly liked:
- Tortilla Flat, by John Steinbeck
We apologise for any interruption caused.
A singular passage I have singularly liked:
It was Jesus Maria's practice to go the post office every day, first because there he could see many people whom he knew, and second because on that windy post-office corner he could look at the legs of a great many girls. It must be supposed that in this latter interest there was any vulgarity. As soon criticise a man who goes to art galleries or to concerts. Jesus Maria liked to look at girls' legs.
- Tortilla Flat, by John Steinbeck
Nicely reflects many things I feel, without the weird pseudo-religiousity I feel compelled to inject into these sorts of proceedings; evolutionary lies, all of it. Also hints at a refutation of internalism/experience-ism? which is something I've been meaning to expound a whole lot on.
Thursday, February 05, 2009
SIPS and gulps
Statistically Improbable Phrases and gulps of air
A gilded lily, the jeweled fragility of Harvard minds, the crystalline delicacy of the modern soul, a glass cathedral: talkin' shit.
They lived in an ethereal limbo, a détante mediated by the pandas and ping-pong matches of consummation. A dangerous, whirling dervish of sex, punctuated [only] to remoisten dry mouths and turn off aging lights. A peaceful crumbling, or a smouldering wasteland;that seems to be the cost those were the wages of their love.
P.S.I don't like that last sentence. I still don't like that last sentence.
He followed a desperate longing, long after it was unnecessary and impossible to fulfill. An obdurate shyness followed him, phantoms and demons of memories past, calcified and ossified into the dark, ghostly crevasses of his mind and body.
She still didn't know what to say after all this time. He had only known and not yet felt.
A gilded lily, the jeweled fragility of Harvard minds, the crystalline delicacy of the modern soul, a glass cathedral: talkin' shit.
They lived in an ethereal limbo, a détante mediated by the pandas and ping-pong matches of consummation. A dangerous, whirling dervish of sex, punctuated [only] to remoisten dry mouths and turn off aging lights. A peaceful crumbling, or a smouldering wasteland;
P.S.
He followed a desperate longing, long after it was unnecessary and impossible to fulfill. An obdurate shyness followed him, phantoms and demons of memories past, calcified and ossified into the dark, ghostly crevasses of his mind and body.
She still didn't know what to say after all this time. He had only known and not yet felt.
This is something I started writing a long while ago (27/11/08, if teh Blogger is to believed), and i'm not entirely sure where it started or where it's going or what I want to do with it. I have conjectures and rumours, but that doesn't help anybody in a concrete way, unless passing time is a concrete thing. Which is really left up to debate to the metaphysicians, and not to the sensible people like us.
Monday, February 02, 2009
I would kindly ask you to stop
asking for those things of me
Relations are rarely, if ever, truly reciprocal. Exchanges are not made same for same; the baker does not exchange his bread for more bread, nor the cooper for more barrels, nor do friends and lovers exchange the same secrets, thoughts, or feelings. Exchanges, mercantile or otherwise, do not operate on bland sameness; while an (a sense of, a feeling of) equality may be achieved through exchanges, this is certainly not the same as sameness.
This is a good thing. For it is in the specialisation and (unequal) distribution of goods that diversity is created; from diversity; from diversity, interest; from interest, motivation; from motivation, action.
I had a post about my Sydney Festival adventures, but my god it was drivel. There were maybe 3 good lines in there. So much for non-inspired writing. Never doing pedestrian work again...
Relations are rarely, if ever, truly reciprocal. Exchanges are not made same for same; the baker does not exchange his bread for more bread, nor the cooper for more barrels, nor do friends and lovers exchange the same secrets, thoughts, or feelings. Exchanges, mercantile or otherwise, do not operate on bland sameness; while an (a sense of, a feeling of) equality may be achieved through exchanges, this is certainly not the same as sameness.
This is a good thing. For it is in the specialisation and (unequal) distribution of goods that diversity is created; from diversity; from diversity, interest; from interest, motivation; from motivation, action.
I had a post about my Sydney Festival adventures, but my god it was drivel. There were maybe 3 good lines in there. So much for non-inspired writing. Never doing pedestrian work again...
Tuesday, January 27, 2009
It's a matter of time
Though you'd best be careful; in the long-run, we are all dead.
Twelve and counting. This has been a productive Festival, and a great month. Freakouts were far fewer in frequency than forecasted.
Except for that.
Re: The 'dota' thing: Suffice to say, I have replies to all your misgivings and objections, but be satisfied with this for now:
"Don't hate the playa, hate the game."
I think that more than satisfies many of the comments on the previous post, in many more ways than one.
Also, this is terrifyingly bad:
Twelve and counting. This has been a productive Festival, and a great month. Freakouts were far fewer in frequency than forecasted.
Except for that.
Re: The 'dota' thing: Suffice to say, I have replies to all your misgivings and objections, but be satisfied with this for now:
"Don't hate the playa, hate the game."
I think that more than satisfies many of the comments on the previous post, in many more ways than one.
Also, this is terrifyingly bad:
Friday, January 09, 2009
Complex multivariate analysis
...using Dota
*And you people wonder why I am no longer romantic.
No, wait, don't go away i'm being serious.
Lately, i've been freaking out (and listening to that Jaydiohead mashup thing, which is really quite good) about evaluative procedures and judgments. The DoTA aspect of this is just another notch in the wall, so to speak, though it relates more specifically to issues of measurability and baseline testing.
First: A little (humourous) context. The spark that lit the tender was the one and only, the incomparable DFW. And more specifically, the 2005 Kenyon Commencement Address, which you should read, if you haven't already. Really, he says it better than I can:
Lately, i've been freaking out (and listening to that Jaydiohead mashup thing, which is really quite good) about evaluative procedures and judgments. The DoTA aspect of this is just another notch in the wall, so to speak, though it relates more specifically to issues of measurability and baseline testing.
First: A little (humourous) context. The spark that lit the tender was the one and only, the incomparable DFW. And more specifically, the 2005 Kenyon Commencement Address, which you should read, if you haven't already. Really, he says it better than I can:
It is about the real value of a real education, which has almost nothing to do with knowledge, and everything to do with simple awareness; awareness of what is so real and essential, so hidden in plain sight all around us, all the time, that we have to keep reminding ourselves over and over:
"This is water."
"This is water."
(if you're confused, there's are a cute parable involved, which he sets out in the beginning.) See, was it wrong of me to take the interpretation of this as, 'Yes of course, that's right. Consider all the variables, double-check your evidence, engage in some hardcore Bayesian inference and examination...right? That's what he meant when he said those things right?'*
Maybe. I doubt it, but I wouldn't put it past him. Either way, it inspired what it did, and I started to thinking about more general methods of evaluation. More grist for the mill: The article in the NYT that got press from one of the more populated areas of the sane interwebs, including a writeup by the Situationist.
What I was thinking with the NYT article was this: it's true, we do self-handicap all the time! But that was obvious. What I'm thinking of is how to obtain an honest (loaded I know) or atleast, empirically valid method of determining intelligence, aptitude or whatever else. If self-handicapping pushes your scores down, and self-affirmation drives scores up, is it possible to design an evaluative procedure that will give you an honest indication of your scores, one that isn't 'tainted' by self-handicapping or self-affirmation?
I don't know. It could well be that it doesn't matter.
Anyway, back to the point(ish). As i've said before many times, one of the reasons I find DoTA to be such a compelling game to play is that it's such a complex edifice. Even within the relatively narrow goals of winning a game, there's so many factors to consider! Hero choice, item choice, item builds, the skills of the various players, hero synergy, game modes and on and on and on. And lest you think that that seems like a short list, when there are 93 heroes (all of which possess a minimum of 4 unique abilities), with literally over a thousand items, with (usually) 5 players a side, 15+ game modes...you can see where i'm going here. This thing has an absolutely MASSIVE number of variables.
Let's try to answer that example question which I hinted at; What are the factors most responsible for winning the game? You can quickly intuit some responses, but the more interesting, more worthwhile, more correct thing to do would be to measure what factors are crucial in determining who wins, because this is how science works.
But, as i've mentioned, how the fuck do you measure such nebulous factors such as player ability? What is your control? What are your baseline measurements? Simply put, how the fuck do you maintain ceteris paribus?
This issue gets even murkier if you consider questions of game balance. Say you decide to increase one specific heroes damage dealing spell by 100. How do you find out how this affects the overall gameplay? How do you figure out the the untold number of synergistic and antagonistic effects with items and other heroes and game modes and so on?
Obviously, this matter is not entirely new. There exist a whole field of problems like these within the social sciences, known as "wicked problems". To quote teh wiki:
"Wicked problem" is a phrase used in social planning to describe a problem that is difficult or impossible to solve because of incomplete, contradictory, and changing requirements that are often difficult to recognize. Moreover, because of complex interdependencies, the effort to solve one aspect of a wicked problem may reveal or create other problems.
See the similarities? Continuing:
Look me in the eye and say DoTA doesn't satisfy that.Rittel and Webber's (1973) formulation of wicked problems specifies ten characteristics, perhaps best considered in the context of social policy planning. According to Ritchey (2007), the ten characteristics are:
- There is no definitive formulation of a wicked problem.
- Wicked problems have no stopping rule.
- Solutions to wicked problems are not true-or-false, but better or worse.
- There is no immediate and no ultimate test of a solution to a wicked problem.
- Every solution to a wicked problem is a "one-shot operation"; because there is no opportunity to learn by trial-and-error, every attempt counts significantly.
- Wicked problems do not have an enumerable (or an exhaustively describable) set of potential solutions, nor is there a well-described set of permissible operations that may be incorporated into the plan.
- Every wicked problem is essentially unique.
- Every wicked problem can be considered to be a symptom of another problem.
- The existence of a discrepancy representing a wicked problem can be explained in numerous ways. The choice of explanation determines the nature of the problem's resolution.
- The planner has no right to be wrong (planners are liable for the consequences of the actions they generate).
Classically, a whole range of societal issues are traditionally considered wicked problems. Crime, poverty, healthcare, taxes, (un)employment**, climate change, abortion***, you name a societal hot-button issue, it's probably a wicked problem.
Why this is interesting in the realm of gaming is that wicked problems are often contrasted with 'tame', or 'simple problems'. Simple problems are those often found in mathematices and puzzle solving; a classic example would be a sudoku puzzle. It's a closed, definitionally-complete system; it has clear, explicit rules, which can be applied in an algorithmic manner to complete the problem. Simple problems are such that you can increase the scale of the system without necessarily increasing the complexity of the system; fundamentally, a 81 x 81 sudoku is no different in solution methods than a 9 x 9 one. You can have even simple problems that have enormous algorithmic complexity that are still closed; for all its complexity, chess is still a 'simple' problem.
The parallels with contemporary gaming should be obvious. Gaming, for all its lush, multi-faceted verisimilitude, is supposed to be a closed system. Despite the complexity of the algorithms used today, they're still (supposedly) algorithms, and those things have to end somewhere...right? One of the reasons I love gaming so much is that effectively, in the end they're 'just' complex puzzles, albeit with nicer graphics and more interesting gameplay. In the end, every game can be gamed; that is to say, you can obtain and follow a series of rules and steps that will allow you to achieve a win condition.
DoTA seems to defy that categorisation. To try to figure out why you won or lost, or even how to win or lose, seems to be, at best, intractable; at worst, impossible. In summary: DoTA is the game that defies being gamed. DoTA is the wicked problem, borne out of simple dynamics.
I don't actually know whether I adequately elucidated the questions I was having with evaluative procedures.**** I hope one of the major points got across: that a traditionally solvable, procedurally-evaluative field has now been transformed. It starts making me question a whole lotta other issues, I guess.
There. That was my rambly, multi-disciplinary answer to why I play DoTA. Now leave me alone, I gotta go do more...'research' DoTA.
Why this is interesting in the realm of gaming is that wicked problems are often contrasted with 'tame', or 'simple problems'. Simple problems are those often found in mathematices and puzzle solving; a classic example would be a sudoku puzzle. It's a closed, definitionally-complete system; it has clear, explicit rules, which can be applied in an algorithmic manner to complete the problem. Simple problems are such that you can increase the scale of the system without necessarily increasing the complexity of the system; fundamentally, a 81 x 81 sudoku is no different in solution methods than a 9 x 9 one. You can have even simple problems that have enormous algorithmic complexity that are still closed; for all its complexity, chess is still a 'simple' problem.
The parallels with contemporary gaming should be obvious. Gaming, for all its lush, multi-faceted verisimilitude, is supposed to be a closed system. Despite the complexity of the algorithms used today, they're still (supposedly) algorithms, and those things have to end somewhere...right? One of the reasons I love gaming so much is that effectively, in the end they're 'just' complex puzzles, albeit with nicer graphics and more interesting gameplay. In the end, every game can be gamed; that is to say, you can obtain and follow a series of rules and steps that will allow you to achieve a win condition.
DoTA seems to defy that categorisation. To try to figure out why you won or lost, or even how to win or lose, seems to be, at best, intractable; at worst, impossible. In summary: DoTA is the game that defies being gamed. DoTA is the wicked problem, borne out of simple dynamics.
I don't actually know whether I adequately elucidated the questions I was having with evaluative procedures.**** I hope one of the major points got across: that a traditionally solvable, procedurally-evaluative field has now been transformed. It starts making me question a whole lotta other issues, I guess.
There. That was my rambly, multi-disciplinary answer to why I play DoTA. Now leave me alone, I gotta go do more...'research' DoTA.
*And you people wonder why I am no longer romantic.
**Tangential sidenote: Employment is an interesting subject to study within the context of psychology of schools of economic thought. It seems to be that to idealogues and bad economists, employment is basically seen a simple problem, solvable within (idealised) market conditions. The application of the supply-and-demand formula is apparently all that is needed; lower wages, and employers hire more. Raise wages, and employment falls. The Austrian School is probably the one most susceptible to this idea; I was wondering if the Chicago School would do it, but they seem to have too much sense to make such a mistake. It'd be interesting to see if there are other traditional economic problems that suffer from this perception issue.
***In fact, it was my research into the issue of abortion that I first ran into the idea of wicked problems.
****Actually, I think this is standard procedure for me. Whenever I don't know the answer or find it difficult to answer the question, I just ramble off into all these interesting tangents and sideshows and hope you get lost in the damn house of mirrors. And if you're a marker, hopefully the house that gives me high marks.
I have no idea why I just did this post. I think part of the motivation comes from some kind of latent guilt i'm feeling, now that people are going into honours or going overseas to learn or going to Melbourne for a friggin intensive Chemistry Olympiad training session. This is my one productive thing over the summer.
Actually, that's probably another post I should do sometime: How is it that nowadays, I have no idea what motivates me to do anything anymore. I used to know, or atleast I used to think I knew; and I even used to think I knew quite well what my motivations were. But now, these days, I barely have any idea why I do what I do. Crazy. But that'll be for another post, for another day...
Actually, that's probably another post I should do sometime: How is it that nowadays, I have no idea what motivates me to do anything anymore. I used to know, or atleast I used to think I knew; and I even used to think I knew quite well what my motivations were. But now, these days, I barely have any idea why I do what I do. Crazy. But that'll be for another post, for another day...
Thursday, January 08, 2009
I couldn't pass this up
It's just too funny!
See, back in the day (and still true to some extent in the presentish sense), Mr. Edelstein was my favourite movie reviewer. He possesses a keenness of wit and vigour; that indie movie sense that saw through the semi-shallowness of "I-don't-drink-fucking-Merlot" Sideways and gave Eternal Sunshine best movie of the year. Most importantly, he maintains this idiosyncratic emotionality that is repeatedly endearing. Witness his reaction to the watching of the first Funny Games:
Anyway. The point of all this is merely to point out that the remake of Funny Games has been garnering some attention as one of the worse movies of the (last) year. The critical reviews are eminently amusing, thought I should probably warn you that Hoberman is being a supercilious prick. Again.
One other thing I have found: Jaydiohead?! (Interrobang go!?)
Dirt Off Your Android - Jaydiohead
See, back in the day (and still true to some extent in the presentish sense), Mr. Edelstein was my favourite movie reviewer. He possesses a keenness of wit and vigour; that indie movie sense that saw through the semi-shallowness of "I-don't-drink-fucking-Merlot" Sideways and gave Eternal Sunshine best movie of the year. Most importantly, he maintains this idiosyncratic emotionality that is repeatedly endearing. Witness his reaction to the watching of the first Funny Games:
I watched to the end, removed the DVD from the player, and snapped it over my knee. Then, with a pair of scissors, I cut the halves into quarters, walked the pieces to the kitchen garbage can, and shoved them under the debris of the previous night’s dinner.
Anyway. The point of all this is merely to point out that the remake of Funny Games has been garnering some attention as one of the worse movies of the (last) year. The critical reviews are eminently amusing, thought I should probably warn you that Hoberman is being a supercilious prick. Again.
One other thing I have found: Jaydiohead?! (Interrobang go!?)
Dirt Off Your Android - Jaydiohead
Sunday, January 04, 2009
Sexual or otherwise
Union forever motherfuckers
Bad, dreamy juju. I went fishing, and the cold and the beer didn't keep me there. I like the sitting around drinking beer thing than the casting out and catching, stabbing, scaling, gutting a fish thing. I gots me a fish. Too small though. The other fish we caught though was delicious. Really, really good, soft and tender with that sweet saltwater tang. The crabs were...unusual, to say the least.
This isn't how I want to be writing, and strictly speaking, not what I want to be writing about. But this heavy fuckin juju is weirdin' shit up. Skip the forbearance and skip the forboding, and fucking definitely skip this short choppy descriptive sentence bullsheet. It's certainly an unusual way to try and cut out a path of neutrality through this thicket. Which is really a strange way of looking at things in the first place.
I've been reading Don Delillo! I'll write a solid review when I finish his shiznit, which suffice to say, seems to be pranksterish to the extreme. There's just so many ways to analyse his shit, it just becomes static, white noise. He's smart, somewhere.
Bad, dreamy juju. I went fishing, and the cold and the beer didn't keep me there. I like the sitting around drinking beer thing than the casting out and catching, stabbing, scaling, gutting a fish thing. I gots me a fish. Too small though. The other fish we caught though was delicious. Really, really good, soft and tender with that sweet saltwater tang. The crabs were...unusual, to say the least.
This isn't how I want to be writing, and strictly speaking, not what I want to be writing about. But this heavy fuckin juju is weirdin' shit up. Skip the forbearance and skip the forboding, and fucking definitely skip this short choppy descriptive sentence bullsheet. It's certainly an unusual way to try and cut out a path of neutrality through this thicket. Which is really a strange way of looking at things in the first place.
I've been reading Don Delillo! I'll write a solid review when I finish his shiznit, which suffice to say, seems to be pranksterish to the extreme. There's just so many ways to analyse his shit, it just becomes static, white noise. He's smart, somewhere.
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