I'm quitting the news. We'll see how this goes.
This is one of my latest self-improvement projects. I've decided that mainstream, non-local news doesn't have a net positive impact on my life, especially when considering the opportunity cost of consuming it, and so I'm doing the rationally obvious thing and quitting it.
Out is political news, which is chaotic and depressing; out is market news, which is chaotic and irrelevant; out are industry- and advocacy-specific news sites, such as Slashdot and The Oil Drum, which are noisy and prone to group-think.
In are friends' blogs, which impact me personally and meaningfully; in are sites that educate me in ideas rather than in events; in is spending more time writing, even if it's for my own irrelevant blog, rather than spending the time consuming.
Well see how this goes.
Thursday, January 28, 2010
Tuesday, January 19, 2010
Noise-to-signal
It wasn't my fault that he left. Midway through my second year in college, my roommate transferred to a different school in a different city, and my assigned replacement roommate for the spring semester never showed up, and consequently I had the entire dorm room to myself for one semester.
My departing roommate took the television set with him, and so I entered the no television phase of my life, a phase that has continued until current day though with a few interruptions, such as during my third year in college and having a new, television-watching roommate.
I was ready for the new no-TV phase; in fact, I had been wanting to quit television since before moving off to college, though admittedly throughout high school I was an avid TV fan. I don't remember why or how I wanted to quit, only that I did.
My primary memory of not having TV that spring semester: I learned how to juggle. I found myself with an abundance of free time and initiative, and I had a canister of tennis balls lying about due to a tennis class I was taking, and so I decided to teach myself how to juggle, a skill that has proved novel though insignificant in the twelve years since. And that's how I describe life without television: novel though insignificant.
Also, twelve years later, life without television is no longer considered weird. Back in 1998 it was often assumed that you owned a TV just as it was generally assumed that you had a phone line. Nowadays many young people use the Web to watch shows, and only the weird have phone lines.
But I don't see TV's fade as a progression because it seems that the signal-to-noise ratio we subject ourselves to is as low as ever. I can say without doubt that the signal-to-noise ratio that I subject myself to has decreased, and though the fault is my own, I blame the Internet and the cell phone as my enablers. The Internet is the truly insidious of the two; I haven't even had broadband since moving to Phoenix more than three years ago.
I suppose that quitting the Internet is the modern-day equivalent that was quitting TV in the 20th century, though I can't imagine any sane individual quitting the Internet without also quitting modern society. Quitting TV was giving up on The Simpsons. Quitting the Internet would be going back to paper bank statements, if those even still exist.
The pertinent question then is how one increases the signal-to-noise ratio. How does one avoid those irrelevant bits that have little or no salient impact on one's long-term happiness while still allowing through the bits that do?
Again I find myself wanting to make a personal change, however novel and insignificant it may be.
My departing roommate took the television set with him, and so I entered the no television phase of my life, a phase that has continued until current day though with a few interruptions, such as during my third year in college and having a new, television-watching roommate.
I was ready for the new no-TV phase; in fact, I had been wanting to quit television since before moving off to college, though admittedly throughout high school I was an avid TV fan. I don't remember why or how I wanted to quit, only that I did.
My primary memory of not having TV that spring semester: I learned how to juggle. I found myself with an abundance of free time and initiative, and I had a canister of tennis balls lying about due to a tennis class I was taking, and so I decided to teach myself how to juggle, a skill that has proved novel though insignificant in the twelve years since. And that's how I describe life without television: novel though insignificant.
Also, twelve years later, life without television is no longer considered weird. Back in 1998 it was often assumed that you owned a TV just as it was generally assumed that you had a phone line. Nowadays many young people use the Web to watch shows, and only the weird have phone lines.
But I don't see TV's fade as a progression because it seems that the signal-to-noise ratio we subject ourselves to is as low as ever. I can say without doubt that the signal-to-noise ratio that I subject myself to has decreased, and though the fault is my own, I blame the Internet and the cell phone as my enablers. The Internet is the truly insidious of the two; I haven't even had broadband since moving to Phoenix more than three years ago.
I suppose that quitting the Internet is the modern-day equivalent that was quitting TV in the 20th century, though I can't imagine any sane individual quitting the Internet without also quitting modern society. Quitting TV was giving up on The Simpsons. Quitting the Internet would be going back to paper bank statements, if those even still exist.
The pertinent question then is how one increases the signal-to-noise ratio. How does one avoid those irrelevant bits that have little or no salient impact on one's long-term happiness while still allowing through the bits that do?
Again I find myself wanting to make a personal change, however novel and insignificant it may be.
Friday, January 15, 2010
Swimming breakthrough
So far this month I've been taking advantage of my gym membership and of the "off-season" lull to practice swimming--all part of my pursuit to transform myself from two-thirds a triathlete into a full one--and I'm pleased to report a major breakthrough: I don't hate swimming anymore.
Through weeks of chlorine and diligence, I may have only marginally improved my front crawl form and have only marginally increased my slower-than-a-crawl speed, but my newfound enjoyment of water is very pleasing in its own. I find myself losing track of the lap count and just swimming back and forth, experimenting with different techniques, maybe focusing on my legs one lap and my head angle the next, or just losing myself in the happy place of exercise.
It may be that I'm in that notorious sweet spot as a beginner where I'm making visible progress in a sport and haven't yet plateaued my way to boredom, but right now I'd rank swimming somewhere between running and bicycling in terms of enjoyment.
Okay, admittedly that's not saying much.
Through weeks of chlorine and diligence, I may have only marginally improved my front crawl form and have only marginally increased my slower-than-a-crawl speed, but my newfound enjoyment of water is very pleasing in its own. I find myself losing track of the lap count and just swimming back and forth, experimenting with different techniques, maybe focusing on my legs one lap and my head angle the next, or just losing myself in the happy place of exercise.
It may be that I'm in that notorious sweet spot as a beginner where I'm making visible progress in a sport and haven't yet plateaued my way to boredom, but right now I'd rank swimming somewhere between running and bicycling in terms of enjoyment.
Okay, admittedly that's not saying much.
Friday, January 8, 2010
Reading Log, no. 7
It's been many months since I previously blogged about what I've been reading. The format of these reading log posts may have lost my favor, but I'm sure that I wish to continue writing about my reading in some form or another, and so I'm mulling over a new format for the new year. Until I figure out what I wish to do, here's a quick catch-up on the books I read in the closing months of 2009. I hope I remembered to include each one.
* * *
Finally, though, I'm able to put a satisfying check next to one on the nonfiction list. And better still, Modern Library's lists proved themselves again; The Making of the Atomic Bomb is an amazing work. It's so amazing, so thick with fascinating bits, that it's very difficult to write a short blurb about. It's not just a book about physics, though it contains much about the technical aspects of the bombs; it is a detailed and fascinating narrative of the myriad of characters from the late 19th century through the end of the Second World War and how their individual lives and discoveries came together to create the bombs. And it's also a war book, as it narrates the exciting race towards the bomb by both Axis and Allies as well as describing the general devastation caused during both world wars.
The Making of the Atomic Bomb is a long book that I found myself pleasurably lost within.
* * *
Upon reading this book, I think Watson is a rare individual who has experienced the loftiest of success in his field but has retained a genuine cynicism towards his own success (and others'). What makes The Double Helix such a great read is that Watson is so dry and cunning in imparting that cynicism.
I failed to record a quote from The Glass Castle by Jeannette Walls, which is unfortunate because a few months of hindsight have revealed the novel to be memorable.
The book is written in clear prose which well illuminates the ups and downs of the author's childhood. What I remember liking most about the book is how I as the reader would flip between perceiving the various characters as protagonists and antagonists, and eventually I concluded that the characters were each complex people in complex situations and not to be judged so lightly as mere literary characters.
* * *
It's an apocalyptic-type book set in a near-future United States whose economy, infrastructure, and governance are fast crumbling into anarchy. I'm totally into this sort of thing. Maybe that's why I had higher expectations for the novel.
One thing that Parable of the Sower does well is to show, not tell, of the setting of decline. There remains a president in D.C., however ineffectual, while millions in southern California literally fight and kill each other for potable water. The police have become a pay-for service. The electric grid rarely provides any power. These are all things that just are; they're not explained and are instead left to the reader to imagine how they became that way.
Some things in the novel don't make much sense to me. For example, money still oddly has substantial value, though heavily deflated. Where is the manufacturing base? The agriculture base? Things are so stark with people killing each other for the basics, and yet food can still be purchased. This seems inconsistent to me. Overall, I felt that the novel, like so many apocalyptic-set novels, oversimplifies mayhem.
One thing I cared little for was the main character's presentation of a "new" and "unique" philosophy involving a worshipful appreciation for change and flux.
* * *
* * *
Though expecting something good, I was pleasantly surprised by this one. Hyperion is an excellent work of modern science fiction. The framework for the plot is simple: seven people on a pilgrimage to the planet Hyperion to see a mysterious, homicidal, godlike being called the Shrike; the seven agree to tell their stories of how they are involved with the planet and the Shrike.
The novel that follows is a fantastically complex and bizarre narrative that weaves through time and space, relativistic time dilation and all, and slowly establishes its seven main characters as being intricately related to each other and their pilgrimage.
Hyperion absorbed me whole.
* * *
And last, Pride and Prejudice and Zombies, authored by Seth Grahame-Smith. I failed to record a suitable passage from this book, too.
I almost gave up on this one because I felt, after reading fifty pages or so, that the joke was played out--not to mention that I was running out of time on my library loan of the book. But I was encouraged by friends to continue reading, and so I did finish and found the story to remain quite fresh and funny throughout. (Jane Austen's text is liberally abridged, and this helps to keep the pace fast.)
For once I look forward to Hollywood's adaptation of a book
* * *
The townspeople still suffered from the disaster of the war and the inflation. Oppenheimer and other American students lodged at the walled mansion of a Göttingen physician who had lost everything and was forced to take in boarders. "Although this society [at the university] was extremely rich and warm and helpful to me," Oppenheimer says, "it was parked there in a very miserable German mood … bitter, sullen, and, I would say, discontent and angry and with all those ingredients which were later to produce a major disaster. And this I felt very much." At Göttingen he first measured the depth of German ruin. Teller generalized it later from his own experience of lost wars and their aftermaths: "Not only do wars create incredible suffering, but they engender deep hatreds that can last for generations."
Richard RhodesI'm a fan of the publisher Modern Library and their two lists of 20th century English books: the 100 Best Novels and the 100 Best Nonfiction. I first came across the lists about two years ago and have since been using them for much of my to-read list. And what a big to-do the lists are! When I started, I hadn't read more than 190 of the 200 books from the two lists combined, and I hadn't read any one of the 100 books on the nonfiction list.
The Making of the Atomic Bomb
Finally, though, I'm able to put a satisfying check next to one on the nonfiction list. And better still, Modern Library's lists proved themselves again; The Making of the Atomic Bomb is an amazing work. It's so amazing, so thick with fascinating bits, that it's very difficult to write a short blurb about. It's not just a book about physics, though it contains much about the technical aspects of the bombs; it is a detailed and fascinating narrative of the myriad of characters from the late 19th century through the end of the Second World War and how their individual lives and discoveries came together to create the bombs. And it's also a war book, as it narrates the exciting race towards the bomb by both Axis and Allies as well as describing the general devastation caused during both world wars.
The Making of the Atomic Bomb is a long book that I found myself pleasurably lost within.
* * *
Of course there were scientists who thought the evidence favoring DNA was inconclusive and preferred to believe that genes were protein molecules. Francis, however, did not worry about these skeptics. Many were cantankerous fools who unfailingly backed the wrong horses. One could not be a successful scientist without realizing that, in contrast to the popular conception supported by newspapers and mothers of scientists, a goodly number of scientists are not only narrow-minded and dull, but also just stupid.And so immediately after reading my first "100 best" nonfiction book, I read my second and another one about the history of science. The Double Helix is Watson's firsthand account of the discovery of the structure of DNA several years after the fact. Contrasted with the The Making of the Atomic Bomb, The Double Helix is a much faster and lighter read. It is surprisingly light on the pure science of the discovery and instead mainly narrates the human workings behind the science and, as you may extrapolate from my selected quote above, does so in a funny and damning way.
James D. Watson
The Double Helix
Upon reading this book, I think Watson is a rare individual who has experienced the loftiest of success in his field but has retained a genuine cynicism towards his own success (and others'). What makes The Double Helix such a great read is that Watson is so dry and cunning in imparting that cynicism.
It has not escaped our notice that the specific pairing we have postulated immediately suggests a copying mechanism for the genetic material.* * *
J. D. Watson and F. H. C. Crick
A Structure for Deoxyribose Nucleic Acid
I failed to record a quote from The Glass Castle by Jeannette Walls, which is unfortunate because a few months of hindsight have revealed the novel to be memorable.
The book is written in clear prose which well illuminates the ups and downs of the author's childhood. What I remember liking most about the book is how I as the reader would flip between perceiving the various characters as protagonists and antagonists, and eventually I concluded that the characters were each complex people in complex situations and not to be judged so lightly as mere literary characters.
* * *
"Do you think our world is coming to an end?" Dad asked, and with no warning at all, I almost started crying. I had all I could do to hold it back. What I thought was, "No, I think _your_ world is coming to an end, and maybe you with it." That was terrible. I hadn't thought about it in such a personal way before. I turned and looked out a window until I felt calmer. When I faced him again, I said. "Yes, don't you?"I think The Parable of the Sower is an okay book best suited for less mature consumption.
Octavia Butler
The Parable of the Sower
It's an apocalyptic-type book set in a near-future United States whose economy, infrastructure, and governance are fast crumbling into anarchy. I'm totally into this sort of thing. Maybe that's why I had higher expectations for the novel.
One thing that Parable of the Sower does well is to show, not tell, of the setting of decline. There remains a president in D.C., however ineffectual, while millions in southern California literally fight and kill each other for potable water. The police have become a pay-for service. The electric grid rarely provides any power. These are all things that just are; they're not explained and are instead left to the reader to imagine how they became that way.
Some things in the novel don't make much sense to me. For example, money still oddly has substantial value, though heavily deflated. Where is the manufacturing base? The agriculture base? Things are so stark with people killing each other for the basics, and yet food can still be purchased. This seems inconsistent to me. Overall, I felt that the novel, like so many apocalyptic-set novels, oversimplifies mayhem.
One thing I cared little for was the main character's presentation of a "new" and "unique" philosophy involving a worshipful appreciation for change and flux.
Any Change may bear seeds of benefit.Fine, whatever. But better still just to be honest about it and copy Heraclitus verbatim: "You cannot step twice into the same river.'', et cetera. It was much more poetic when said twenty-five centuries ago.
Seek them out.
Any Change may bear seeds of harm.
Beware.
God is infinitely malleable.
God is Change.
* * *
He clenched his fists in fury--and desperation. For he knew that humanity would run from star to star as easily as it had run from continent to continent and before that from region to region. There would be no isolation, no self-contained experiments. _His_ grand experiment had been discovered, and doomed.Nemesis is something special in that it's the first Isaac Asimov work I've read that I feel was too long-winded and insufficiently edited. It's not a bad book, and actually I enjoyed it overall. It just carried on too long and without that certain element of surprise that I've come to expect from Asimov. Though, I did like how the novel was written as two threads starting fifteen years apart and how the earlier thread raced to catch up and unify with the later thread.
The same anarchy, the same degeneration, the same thoughtless short-term thinking, all the same cultural and social disparities would continue to prevail--Galaxy-wide.
What would there be now? Galactic empires? All the sins and follies graduated from one world to millions? Every woe and every difficulty horribly magnified?
Who would be able to make sense out of a Galaxy, when no one had ever made sense out of a single world? Who would learn to read the trends and foresee the future in a whole Galaxy teeming with humanity?
Nemesis had indeed come.
Isaac Asimov
Nemesis
* * *
"All right," said the Consul, "we vote. Our first decision relates to M. Weintraub's suggestion that we tell the stories of our past involvement with Hyperion."Hyperion was recommended to me by a friend who described it as Canterbury Tales in space. What's not to like?
"All or nothing," said Het Masteen. "We each share our story or none does. We will abide by the will of the majority."
"Agreed," said the Consul, suddenly curious to hear the others tell their stories and equally sure that he would never tell his own. "Those in favor of telling our tales?"
"Yes," said Sol Weintraub.
"Yes," said Het Masteen.
"Absolutely," said Martin Silenus. "I wouldn't miss this little comic farce for a month in the orgasm baths on Shote."
"I vote yes also," said the Consul, surprising himself. "Those opposed?"
"Nay," said Father Hoyt but there was no energy in his voice.
"I think it's stupid," said Brawne Lamia.
The Consul turned to Kassad. "Colonel?"
Fedmahn Kassed shrugged.
"I register four yes votes, two negatives, and one abstention," said the Consul. "The ayes have it. Who wants to start?"
Dan Simmons
Hyperion
Though expecting something good, I was pleasantly surprised by this one. Hyperion is an excellent work of modern science fiction. The framework for the plot is simple: seven people on a pilgrimage to the planet Hyperion to see a mysterious, homicidal, godlike being called the Shrike; the seven agree to tell their stories of how they are involved with the planet and the Shrike.
The novel that follows is a fantastically complex and bizarre narrative that weaves through time and space, relativistic time dilation and all, and slowly establishes its seven main characters as being intricately related to each other and their pilgrimage.
Hyperion absorbed me whole.
* * *
And last, Pride and Prejudice and Zombies, authored by Seth Grahame-Smith. I failed to record a suitable passage from this book, too.
I almost gave up on this one because I felt, after reading fifty pages or so, that the joke was played out--not to mention that I was running out of time on my library loan of the book. But I was encouraged by friends to continue reading, and so I did finish and found the story to remain quite fresh and funny throughout. (Jane Austen's text is liberally abridged, and this helps to keep the pace fast.)
For once I look forward to Hollywood's adaptation of a book
Tuesday, January 5, 2010
2009: Race
Historically I haven't been too keen about participating in organized race events. Prior to the year 2009 my total experience in organized events entailed having done a few here and there and usually only when sponsored by an employer in accord with my do-it-when-free attitude. After all, it does seem wasteful to spend money to compete in an organized event when every weekend there exist unorganized events, like the BOS bike ride in Scottsdale, where cyclists such as myself can get dropped from the pack at no expense except pride.
However, the year 2009 was exceptional, a real breakout year for me, as during the year I participated in nine organized competitive and non-competitive events spanning bicycling, running, and even some swimming. There were successes: I finished third overall in a sprint triathlon; won my sex and age category along with a pumpkin, a.k.a. "victory", pie in a 5km running race; and just missed the podium in a sanctioned bicycle road race. There were failures: I caused a two-man crash in a semi-competitive bicycle race; with cramping legs, barely finished the swim in an Olympic-distance triathlon before going on to finish the event well in the bottom half of the standings; and just missed the podium in a sanctioned bicycle road race.
I learned a lot. I learned firsthand that bicycle road races over flat terrain are dangerous (because of people like me). I learned that you can't fake a 1500m swim. But mainly I learned that dropping a few hundred dollars on organized events throughout the year can be every bit worthwhile when you're already dropping much more on equipment and gear.
Here's the list of organized events in which I participated during the year 2009:
* Casa Grande Century (101mi)
* P.F. Chang's Rock 'n' Roll Arizona half marathon (13.1mi)
* Ragnar Del Sol Relay
* El Tour de Phoenix (72mi)
* Town of Payson Sprint Triathlon (500yd/15mi/5km)
* Skull Valley Road Race (55mi)
* Nathan Tempe Triathlon (1500m/40km/10km)
* Arizona Road Racers Turkey Trot (5km run)
* Running Masters Midnight Madness (3mi run)
Hopefully the year 2010 will be as varied and fun.
However, the year 2009 was exceptional, a real breakout year for me, as during the year I participated in nine organized competitive and non-competitive events spanning bicycling, running, and even some swimming. There were successes: I finished third overall in a sprint triathlon; won my sex and age category along with a pumpkin, a.k.a. "victory", pie in a 5km running race; and just missed the podium in a sanctioned bicycle road race. There were failures: I caused a two-man crash in a semi-competitive bicycle race; with cramping legs, barely finished the swim in an Olympic-distance triathlon before going on to finish the event well in the bottom half of the standings; and just missed the podium in a sanctioned bicycle road race.
I learned a lot. I learned firsthand that bicycle road races over flat terrain are dangerous (because of people like me). I learned that you can't fake a 1500m swim. But mainly I learned that dropping a few hundred dollars on organized events throughout the year can be every bit worthwhile when you're already dropping much more on equipment and gear.
Here's the list of organized events in which I participated during the year 2009:
* Casa Grande Century (101mi)
* P.F. Chang's Rock 'n' Roll Arizona half marathon (13.1mi)
* Ragnar Del Sol Relay
* El Tour de Phoenix (72mi)
* Town of Payson Sprint Triathlon (500yd/15mi/5km)
* Skull Valley Road Race (55mi)
* Nathan Tempe Triathlon (1500m/40km/10km)
* Arizona Road Racers Turkey Trot (5km run)
* Running Masters Midnight Madness (3mi run)
Hopefully the year 2010 will be as varied and fun.
Saturday, January 2, 2010
2009: LIE
My favorite act of self-improvement for the year 2009 was to become a better email correspondent, even if with only a few friends and family members. This was not mere happenstance but rather the effect of a new system, one that I learned from Coworker Shafik. The system is called LIE, the law of infinite email.
The law of infinite email is a system that, if followed will just a modicum of diligence, will transform a person, however lazy and prone to procrastination, into a reliable correspondent. No emails left to idle for weeks or months in an inbox; no threads left to end in silence without resolution. And yet the LIE system is so simple. The way it works is to pre-establish a definitive deadline for responding to an email within a LIE thread. The recipient of an email must respond within some agreed upon amount of time, say one week, even if his response says nothing more than something to the effect of: "I'm too busy to write." That's it.
It's stupid simple, and it works. The point is that the email thread is forced to continue despite the inevitable periods of extreme busyness which we all suffer from time to time. Being forced with a deadline into writing something, however trivial, makes maintaining a thread habitual and therefore easier. (Whereas a somewhat neglected email thread becomes easy to transform, with a little bit of time, into a totally neglected email thread.) LIE may decrease the quality of individual emails, but the value of an ongoing correspondence lies not with writing exceptionally but writing with regularity.
I doubt that I need to sell the idea of regular correspondence. The importance of cultivating meaningful relationships with others who live far away is something that most people feel very keenly. This is especially the case these days when communication tools such as cell phones and Facebook too often to promote casual convenience over substance. Casual convenience is worthwhile in the right contexts, but it does not substitute for meaningfulness. An ongoing email thread is a great simulation of tried and true technology: the pen-and-paper letter via postal delivery. As media, both do not exhibit bias in regards to limiting the depth to which a discussion may delve.
One of the interesting aspects of LIE is how others with whom I've talked about LIE have gone off and created their own LIEs with others. I very much like how others are rekindling the dying art of correspondence, too.
The only drawback of LIE that I've discovered is that it makes most of my non-LIE correspondence seem woefully unreliable by comparison. (My fault.) This remains an unsolved problem for the year 2010.
The law of infinite email is a system that, if followed will just a modicum of diligence, will transform a person, however lazy and prone to procrastination, into a reliable correspondent. No emails left to idle for weeks or months in an inbox; no threads left to end in silence without resolution. And yet the LIE system is so simple. The way it works is to pre-establish a definitive deadline for responding to an email within a LIE thread. The recipient of an email must respond within some agreed upon amount of time, say one week, even if his response says nothing more than something to the effect of: "I'm too busy to write." That's it.
It's stupid simple, and it works. The point is that the email thread is forced to continue despite the inevitable periods of extreme busyness which we all suffer from time to time. Being forced with a deadline into writing something, however trivial, makes maintaining a thread habitual and therefore easier. (Whereas a somewhat neglected email thread becomes easy to transform, with a little bit of time, into a totally neglected email thread.) LIE may decrease the quality of individual emails, but the value of an ongoing correspondence lies not with writing exceptionally but writing with regularity.
I doubt that I need to sell the idea of regular correspondence. The importance of cultivating meaningful relationships with others who live far away is something that most people feel very keenly. This is especially the case these days when communication tools such as cell phones and Facebook too often to promote casual convenience over substance. Casual convenience is worthwhile in the right contexts, but it does not substitute for meaningfulness. An ongoing email thread is a great simulation of tried and true technology: the pen-and-paper letter via postal delivery. As media, both do not exhibit bias in regards to limiting the depth to which a discussion may delve.
One of the interesting aspects of LIE is how others with whom I've talked about LIE have gone off and created their own LIEs with others. I very much like how others are rekindling the dying art of correspondence, too.
The only drawback of LIE that I've discovered is that it makes most of my non-LIE correspondence seem woefully unreliable by comparison. (My fault.) This remains an unsolved problem for the year 2010.
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