What's in a name?

As it turns out, having an unpopular name makes you more likely to become a juvenile delinquent. The study is an obvious abuse of statistics, but it does explain a lot of urges I feel. As it turns out, Ernest is a dangerous dangerous name. Just as naming your child Diogenes nearly guarantees that he will be a philosopher, naming him Ernest ensures that he will be a criminal. You are all warned, and the government probably has tabs on me.

This family is awesome

Hundreds of cookies, board games, dart guns, throwing flightless birds, configuring bluetooth devices. I had my grammar and vocabulary usage questioned within 20 minutes of being picked up. (Also, it turns out that puffins can fly. So, amend that: "throwing flightless stuffed animals of flight-enabled birds.") Breaking into long monologues from Hamlet. Dinner conversation about the mechanics of virus infections and mathematical models for evolution. Breaking into FotC songs. After-dinner telekinesis practice to make room for dessert. Unexploded cows. The monotonically-increasing awkwardness game. Exploded cows. Breaking into OE sketches. Spare computers everywhere.

My family rocks. What a piece of work is man!

This kind of thing just happens all the time

Intentional or ironic?

Office robots do "Fight Club"

Not. But didn't the title hook you?J. once told me that some kids at her high school tried to start a fight club, in imitation of the movie. This was conveyed in a tone of incredulity. Come to think of it, who would recreationally try to get beaten up? It doesn't make a lot of sense to me. And this is coming from a devoted rugby player. But at least rugby has points, and teams, and rules. (Well, fight club does have rules; the first one is, you don't talk about... oh. You are a moron.)

Barbecue cleaning

It's the most wonderful time of the year -- time to clean your barbecue! Did you bring your HAZMAT suit? This guy's expression indicates that he's not too happy to be fighting the illustrated demons, poison, rain clouds, and orbiting grime and filth."We clean Barbeques, that's what we do."

As if the name were not enough to explain. Looking at this postcard, I wonder: "What do they do?"

The future soon

I'm hoping that NP-complete problems are efficiently solvable, but I think it is more likely that the "obviously crucial in retrospect" item will win. In fact, it's nearly guaranteed to be true, since only ten other options are specified. (And it's unclear how combinations -- like "some 22nd-century people say that malevolent AI has taken over" -- would be characterized on this chart.)

Harvard: still better than you!

Yet another reason why Harvard is awesome: not only is the RIAA afraid of Harvard, but that fear seems to be protecting Harvard students from the recent surge of filesharing take-down notices. Actually, I agree with the hypothesis that Harvard students are just too busy to engage in illegal filesharing. (I certainly was during my time there.)

Damn right, we're better than you!

The Oncoming Storm

Since Stargate Atlantis finished its fourth season at the beginning of March, I've been waiting for some excellent new science fiction to air. I chose my tense very carefully in that last sentence: progressive perfect. Even though Doctor Who and Battlestar Galactica returned to airing two weekends ago, I have not yet seen anything worth the reputations previously earned by these shows.

As Lila noted, Doctor Who is back on the zombie bandwagon. Yes, the Vesuvius episode was filler. The litmus test for these is easy in Doctor Who: was it written by Russell T Davies? Yes equals a sweet show; no, a weak filler episode. The dilemmata of being a Time Lord are a constant theme in the show, but the Doctor doesn't normally have a problem with doing what has to get done. There is no pressing need to remind us of this every season, and even Donna said that she "knew all this" in the first episode. I haven't watched the third episode of the season yet, but I trust we will see improvement soon.

Back to zombies for a minute. Upon reflection, it strikes me that zombies are an extremely prevalent theme in science fiction. In the original sense, a zombie is a body that has been taken control of. Supposedly there were some sort of hallucinogenic drugs from Africa that were used to convert people to zombies. Who knows. Regardless, the brain-thirsty college kid in this picture is not the only embodiment of the zombie. Do note, though, that this zombie has torn his jacket in his madness, but hasn't untied his nicely-dimpled tie. There's a reason for that. His tie is serving the functional purpose of holding his head on. Think about it.

Almost every science fiction source I have recently been entertaining myself with is full of zombies. Hell, all the robots I can think of (save Marvin the Paranoid Android) are very much zombies. Mass Effect, for those who've played it, was all about zombies, from the robotic, hive-minded geth, to those enthralled by either Sovereign or the Thorian. Pretty repetitive game, once you realize that. Of course, what I am segueing to is Battlestar Galactica.

Think about it (think, think about it). The seven cylons that are publicly known all don't understand why they do what they must do. They were "programmed" by whomever created them to avoid thinking about the final five. Pretty silly, huh? They just act according to their programming (so it is argued) and as such are no more than zombies. The cylon centurians (until the second episode of this season) were mindless killing machines. And the human-form cylons exist by downloading into inactive spare bodies. For them, the mind–body debate is solved: the body exists only as a tool for the mind, and can be discarded at will.

The "sleeper agents" (although there can only be at most one remaining---and there is only one true god! Coincidence?) are the most zombie-like (zombiesque, zombimbic, zombic? Zombied and zombified, which the OED provides, just don't suit my need). They are certainly programmed and behave accordingly. They can be made to do things that they would not choose to do (shoot Adama, blow up the water supply, cf. season one for more examples) and have no control over it. A good question is, will the baby cylons be programmable (cry now!) or does that require a spare body? More generally, can the cylons actually reprogram each other?

Zombies, zombies every where,
And oh the plot did thick;
Zombies, zombies every where,
And many turns to trick.

The weak US dollar

There is an "article" here featuring seven video game currencies stronger than the US dollar, with an analysis of how they were determined to be "stronger." Some of these are very sketchy (how many Mario coins for a life? what is the USD cost of a life?), but others are direct (items from in-game being sold on eBay).

I'm glad I'm in Canada, where the dollar is slightly stronger. Even though I have to keep reminding myself: if you die in Canada, you die in real life.

Ceiling Wax

An original, one-scene, vignette play by Ernie, entitled
CEILING WAX,
or
FINDING THE CORAL OF UNDERSTANDING IN THE SEA OF CONFUSION,
or
THE QUEST FOR THE CONCH OF COMMUNICATION +10

(The scene opens on a humble dining room. Lila and Ernie sit at the table as their Mother speaks loudly from the adjacent kitchen. Lila appears to be writing thank-you letters to friends and family.)
Mother: Ernie, are you online? Can you check if Amazon has ceiling wax.
Ernie: No, they don't.
Mother: Too bad, we'll have to go out to get some.
Lila: We could try the zoo. For the seals.
Ernie: (Thinking: "that makes no sense at all but I'll laugh along.") Ah ha, how witty you are, sister of mine!

(The following morning: Ernie is awoken in bed most carelessly.)
Lila: Are you up yet?
Ernie: Ye---
Lila: I just wanted to tell you that we got some ceiling wax and you shouldn't be alarmed if the house burns down as I seal shut my thank-yous. Since the wax didn't come in colors, we'll also be melting crayons. Green crayons.
Ernie: (Catching on.) I thought you wanted wax for the ceiling!
Lila: Yup, so I could seal the letters.
Ernie: Oh, for the sealing. (Taps his nose knowingly.)
Lila: (With a look so quizzical less steeled souls would shatter under its weight. But Ernie is well known to be steeled and girded at all times. He is well known as an immotable mansion of mental magnificence. A towering colossus of cognitive clout. A titan of tranquil tenacity. Thus do men speak in hushed tones around campfires and in taverns across the lands of the one known by his name.)
Ernie: Of the letters.
Lila: (Quietly at unsure of her footing in this most discerning battle of wits.) Yes.
Ernie: So you won't be waxing any sea mammals or tops of our rooms, then, will you?
Lila: No, no we won't.
Ernie: Good.
Lila: I'm going downstairs now.
(Exeunt.)

MORAL: Avoid use of easily-confused homophones, because most likely nobody understands you! This could contribute to them not liking you or becoming deranged. You have been warned.

Disclaimer: All names, characters, places, and events are imaginary. So it follows trivially that any and all resemblance to anyone or anything real is intended, nor should it be inferred, because nothing is real.

Mathematics itself is on fire

So says this article in the New York Times. I find it rather interesting, not least because I love mathematics; also, the author maintains a playful tone throughout, including these phrases:

Referring to certain philosophy of science claims: "Those are still fighting words." (I picture bearded physicists throwing down clipboards and wrestling on top of a million-dollar piece of equipment.)

"Plato is really dead."

Describing someone as "a physicist and quantum trickster."

"In this case there is meta law — one law or equation, perhaps printable on a T-shirt — to rule them all."

The article comes to no conclusions about whether the scientific enterprise is independently valid, or rests on a fundamental faith in an orderly universe. It does present the theory that universes "spawn" with different features each time, which I think naturally lends itself to a video game. It could even be semi-educational, teaching players about physics. Of course, they would have to invent their own experiments. The game could dynamically change rules that they haven't discovered yet so that (with some small probability) each experiment contradicts the theory that the player has formed thus far. Thus does science baffle and entice we hapless scientists. Everything is so complexified.

The Dirtier Side of Life

Now that I've decided to blog, my life has gotten immediately stranger.

Last night, while I was innocently working on my Animal Behavior, I found myself overcome with a weariness. And, pondering the complex competition of eagles and crows for salmon, I was nearly napping. Yet, suddenly there came a tapping, as of someone gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door.

So I opened it.

No bold raven waited for me beyond that threshold, but my eyes found something more terrifying and inexplicable looming there. My blockmates, their hair caked with mud and their clothes literally soiled, stood grinning at me. It was 12:56 AM when they knocked at the door.

"You're not coming in here like that." Not an ultimatum, a decree.

They had been outside. On a normal day, I would classify that as surprising. Today, they had been inspired to play flag football. At night. After a day of rain. This sort of activity defies classification. The closest word in my thoughts right now is rabid, but that doesn't even come within an epsilon of my gut reaction.

I think this final picture sums up my fear. It was not the dirt that terrified me but the fear of something else: contamination. For all I know, those mud-covered creatures may be carriers of that zombie virus I keep hearing about. But then again, I've got my "zombie plan" all figured out.

Quote Challenge

Ernie and I sometimes play a game. The game goes like this:

(1) WLOG, I go first. I say a quote from literature/musicals/some source that we both know.
(2) Ernie must either correctly cite the quote, or provide the next line.
(3) If the quote is exceptionally difficult or obscure, a small hint may be given (e.g., a lengthening of the quote, or saying it in a particular accent).
(4) Repeat (1)-(3) with roles reversed.

The game continues until someone is stumped. That person loses.

This game is best played in person. At a distance, there is always the possibility that one's opponent cheats (e.g., by Googling the phrase), rendering the purpose of the game null. The idea is to determine which player has the better memory, not which player can use a search engine.

For example, "Not for use as pants." is an excellent quote, and one that I am sure Ernie has recently read. Unfortunately, it is also well-documented online.

I like this game despite its susceptibility to cheaters, and would like to play it online (specifically, on this blog). It requires "secure" quotes, i.e., quotes that do not readily yield to Google searches.

I offer you these (separate) quotes:

"Walruses are a scourge upon mankind!"

"Vick's NyQuil - green, because there's a Vulcan in every bottle."

These quotes are not widely known or popular (though they should be!), but I would only rate them as "middle" on the difficulty scale. I am sure that people I know, and people you know, have come across these quotes recently. You just have to ask.

If you can correctly cite either of these quotes, then you may submit the next quote challenge.