http://www.nytimes.com/2009/07/24/business/24drones.html?_r=1&scp=1&sq=drones&st=cse
For those who weren't mesmerised by Terminator movies when they were adolescents, skynet is a computer defence system that becomes self aware, considers humans a threat, and nukes them. This paves the way for the rise of the machines. Now the USAF wants to have squadrons of pilotless aircraft of all sizes ranging from tactical bomber to nanospy planes. Makes me uneasy...
Friday, July 24, 2009
Saturday, May 23, 2009
Someone's birthday is coming up...
I've never really understood what people mean when they say that. You know, we're getting close to 7 billion in terms of global population. The number of days in a year are 365. So with some crude maths, you expect to have 20 million people who have a birthday every single day (that's wonderful if you're in the Happy birthday business). Therefore, it's kind of a pointless thing to say that someone will have a birthday soon (assuming soon means two-three days) because a subset of humanity equal to france in terms of population will have a birthday in that time period. You may as well say that the Taj is a pretty nifty tomb.
Someone's birthday is coming up...
I've never really understood what people mean when they say that. You know, we're getting close to 7 billion in terms of global population. The number of days in a year are 365. So with some crude maths, you expect to have 20 million people who have a birthday every single day (that's wonderful if you're in the Happy birthday business). Therefore, it's kind of a pointless thing to say that someone will have a birthday soon (assuming soon means two-three days) because a subset of humanity equal to france in terms of population will have a birthday in that time period. You may as well say that the Taj is a pretty nifty tomb.
Sunday, May 3, 2009
To those who like to use foul language...
...Randall Munroe has something to say to you:
But Intellectual badassery is immune from the jumping hyphen. If you make the hyphen jump, you shall be hung, drawn, and quartered with an industrial laser.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------
had to include a conversation with a friend about abovementioned lasers
qubit85: what kind of laser are we talking about here?
me: I don't know
the kinds that can cut you into half
the kinds sean connery faced in goldfinger
or the kind pierce brosnan faced in die another day
as you can see, my knowledge of lasers is rooted in James Bond movies
But Intellectual badassery is immune from the jumping hyphen. If you make the hyphen jump, you shall be hung, drawn, and quartered with an industrial laser.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------
had to include a conversation with a friend about abovementioned lasers
qubit85: what kind of laser are we talking about here?
me: I don't know
the kinds that can cut you into half
the kinds sean connery faced in goldfinger
or the kind pierce brosnan faced in die another day
as you can see, my knowledge of lasers is rooted in James Bond movies
Intellectual badass-hood
So on the way to NCUR23, I met an interesting and dauntingly intelligent bloke from Johns Hopkins. He introduced the concept of intellectual badass-hood to me. This is an astonishingly appealing idea for nerds of my ilk. No longer shall we suffer under derogatory titles reminiscent of Homo unpleasantus characteristics(refer to previous post for obscure reference: http://comprehensiblecomplexity.blogspot.com/2008/10/well-theoretically.html).
So, if you are sufficiently smart, reasonably ridiculous, engagingly eccentric, adequately attractive, and compellingly competent in your field you shall henceforth be allowed to lay claim to a glorious title: Intellectual badass.
For once in my life, I am making an exception in my escewal of words with the gratuitous suffix of 'ass' because 'intellectual badass' just sounds BADASS.
P.S: There is a species barrier between Homo unpleasantus and intellectual badassery.
So, if you are sufficiently smart, reasonably ridiculous, engagingly eccentric, adequately attractive, and compellingly competent in your field you shall henceforth be allowed to lay claim to a glorious title: Intellectual badass.
For once in my life, I am making an exception in my escewal of words with the gratuitous suffix of 'ass' because 'intellectual badass' just sounds BADASS.
P.S: There is a species barrier between Homo unpleasantus and intellectual badassery.
Sunday, March 1, 2009
The (ubiquitous) shit
Now, I am a biology chap, but I do get irked by cliches floating around me. One came to my attention a couple of days back.
I was working quietly on my cell bio homework in the computer lab when this chum of mine exclaimed: "I am the shit!!!" Indeed, he seemed quite pleased with the idea. Now, to a literal mind like mine, there can be nothing very salubrious about being a segment (or even a pile) of excrement. I fell into a bit of a quandary.
Now, prepositions were probably devised keeping human experience in mind. For instance, if you say that you went to Schenectady (place chosen for its absurd name) in 2009, you could imagine that time is considered the 4th dimension so in some absurd way you could actually be IN 2009. This doesn't always work since human experience and perception isn't always universal. For instance, we Indians fill IN forms whereas I constantly find myself filling OUT forms in the US. Similarly, the whole world stands in line (probably assuming that the row of people is the line) whereas New Yorkers insist on standing ON line (the assumption probably being that they're standing on a stretch of land that's linear). Anyway, for the most part prepositions are based off human experience (the rest are absolutely arbitrary). Surely, I thought, there must be some such logic behind slangs and colloquialisms. I charged on cavalierly and naively to think that these would be consistent as well.
Now, if you claim to be "The Shit", one would naturally suppose that you desire to express that you possess the qualities of the object. One of those, is the distinct lack of a pleasant fragrance. Not to put too fine a point on it, but shit stinks. Now, here's where I fell into a bottomless pit of confusion. Most people normally say something "stinks" when it's not to their liking. So why would you want to be "the shit"? For one, you'd be constantly hitting the fan. Although, I suppose since ceiling fans are rarer in the states than in India, it's considerably safer being "the shit" in the US.
Lest someone interprets these comments as distinctly anti-American. I'd like to point out that some british slangs also make no sense to me. The best instance is the usage of the word "bollocks". Now, this is normally used when things aren't going your way. For those who don't know, this word is a slang for testicles. I suppose that's ok since people the world over seem to be obsessed with this structure of male anatomy.
In India, a testicle is coarsely referred to as dice. Last I checked, the dice I used for board games was cuboidal so perhaps Indians need to study anatomy or visit the nearest plastic surgeon. Similarly, Americans (regardless of gender) never tire of asseverating that they have the 'balls' to attempt some feat of dare-devilry or another. It makes you wonder why women don't claim to have the ovaries to do XYZ. Anyhow, I am meandering. The brits aren't satisfied with merely having the 'bollocks' to do xyz. They have to have the 'dog's bollocks' for feats of bravado. For a medically minded fellow, the idea is a bit vexing. Do the British constantly ponder getting a testicular xenograft from a dog? The thought is rather macabre, wouldn't you agree?
In the end, I feel a bit cheated. The things is, to appear normal in society I am forced to use some senseless slangs. For instance, I have to ask (in some irritation): "What is this shit?" when I clearly know that it isn't shit. Why, I ask myself, did I spend years mastering English and reading the works of PG Wodehouse to whom I owe my (perhaps antiquated) vocabulary. I ought to have listened to music from "da [neighbour]hood" to better prepare me for communication in this modern world.
I remember the words of this british cove who said: "I know two slang words: swell and lousy. I think swell is lousy." I agree.
I was working quietly on my cell bio homework in the computer lab when this chum of mine exclaimed: "I am the shit!!!" Indeed, he seemed quite pleased with the idea. Now, to a literal mind like mine, there can be nothing very salubrious about being a segment (or even a pile) of excrement. I fell into a bit of a quandary.
Now, prepositions were probably devised keeping human experience in mind. For instance, if you say that you went to Schenectady (place chosen for its absurd name) in 2009, you could imagine that time is considered the 4th dimension so in some absurd way you could actually be IN 2009. This doesn't always work since human experience and perception isn't always universal. For instance, we Indians fill IN forms whereas I constantly find myself filling OUT forms in the US. Similarly, the whole world stands in line (probably assuming that the row of people is the line) whereas New Yorkers insist on standing ON line (the assumption probably being that they're standing on a stretch of land that's linear). Anyway, for the most part prepositions are based off human experience (the rest are absolutely arbitrary). Surely, I thought, there must be some such logic behind slangs and colloquialisms. I charged on cavalierly and naively to think that these would be consistent as well.
Now, if you claim to be "The Shit", one would naturally suppose that you desire to express that you possess the qualities of the object. One of those, is the distinct lack of a pleasant fragrance. Not to put too fine a point on it, but shit stinks. Now, here's where I fell into a bottomless pit of confusion. Most people normally say something "stinks" when it's not to their liking. So why would you want to be "the shit"? For one, you'd be constantly hitting the fan. Although, I suppose since ceiling fans are rarer in the states than in India, it's considerably safer being "the shit" in the US.
Lest someone interprets these comments as distinctly anti-American. I'd like to point out that some british slangs also make no sense to me. The best instance is the usage of the word "bollocks". Now, this is normally used when things aren't going your way. For those who don't know, this word is a slang for testicles. I suppose that's ok since people the world over seem to be obsessed with this structure of male anatomy.
In India, a testicle is coarsely referred to as dice. Last I checked, the dice I used for board games was cuboidal so perhaps Indians need to study anatomy or visit the nearest plastic surgeon. Similarly, Americans (regardless of gender) never tire of asseverating that they have the 'balls' to attempt some feat of dare-devilry or another. It makes you wonder why women don't claim to have the ovaries to do XYZ. Anyhow, I am meandering. The brits aren't satisfied with merely having the 'bollocks' to do xyz. They have to have the 'dog's bollocks' for feats of bravado. For a medically minded fellow, the idea is a bit vexing. Do the British constantly ponder getting a testicular xenograft from a dog? The thought is rather macabre, wouldn't you agree?
In the end, I feel a bit cheated. The things is, to appear normal in society I am forced to use some senseless slangs. For instance, I have to ask (in some irritation): "What is this shit?" when I clearly know that it isn't shit. Why, I ask myself, did I spend years mastering English and reading the works of PG Wodehouse to whom I owe my (perhaps antiquated) vocabulary. I ought to have listened to music from "da [neighbour]hood" to better prepare me for communication in this modern world.
I remember the words of this british cove who said: "I know two slang words: swell and lousy. I think swell is lousy." I agree.
Tuesday, December 9, 2008
Drinking vessels make no noise
I really like drinking in earthen and glass containers. Today I had gone to the fine-arts facility to pick up a broken piece of ceramic to keep in my fish bowl. Apparently, Betta fish appreciate the hiding place. While I was there, I picked up this discarded cup.
I am now using it to drink tea in. It reminds me of the sort of earthen cups that are used for serving tea on the Indian Railways. They always add a special flavour to the tea. 
Unfortunately, my new cup doesn't quite manage that. However, it looks splendid. I took some pictures with my
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
Posts
