I’ve been reading a lot of technical actuarial papers for a project I’ve been working on. I have designed a pretty cool way to run Monte Carlo simulations. It’s the sort of thing I could just as easily be doing for a lab class in college as for work.
I am reading about and looking up many mathematical and statistical principles and am in a new awe. Covariance, correlation, convolution and transformation. I am relearning properties that I am again finding fascinating. How the rules never bend, yet equations, properties, and situations somehow simplify from complex monsters. I am being reminded of why I am such a geek and love numbers. So beautifully dependable and objective. Their properties, amazingly complex but in the end beautiful for their simplicity and the elegance the way everything can come together.
Wednesday, August 31, 2005
Wednesday, July 20, 2005
No skin ON
OooOOoooo….the body world’s exhibit at the museum is just on my mind. Days later and I’m still thinking about it, still forming ideas and still in awe. It was interesting, sad, intellectual, grotesque, and beautiful all at once.
Hundreds of REAL HUMAN specimens ‘plastinized’ (is that even a word?) and carefully dissected and displayed. Awesome! These real human bodies of men, women, and children displayed with no skin let you see (quite literally) the inner workings of the body. You could see the muscles, the organs, the nerves the skeleton, and everything else inside from every angle.
Upon entering, the first display made me just stop and think, “Is that REAL?” It is almost too much to take in, my mind was in shock, I ended up spending so much time looking at the first body, at a person who used to eat, drink, and maybe even look at exhibits in a museum. Just frozen in plastic. The bodies were posed and seemed ‘ultra’-real, there was a teacher, a runner, an almost voyeuristic look at a mother and her unborn child, a family holding hands, and more.
It is gruesome to know that they are real and individuals…but with no skin, no color, no religion, they are just people. Just the same mix of red and yellow and blue as anybody.
They are just a mix of many complex systems intertwined and working as one machine. A beautifully engineered machine who’s creation may have been more in exercise in ‘beauty than utility.’
This exhibit, this human body may be more appropriately placed in an art museum rather than one devoted to science.
Check out http://latitude.blogspot.com for Z’s take on this.
Hundreds of REAL HUMAN specimens ‘plastinized’ (is that even a word?) and carefully dissected and displayed. Awesome! These real human bodies of men, women, and children displayed with no skin let you see (quite literally) the inner workings of the body. You could see the muscles, the organs, the nerves the skeleton, and everything else inside from every angle.
Upon entering, the first display made me just stop and think, “Is that REAL?” It is almost too much to take in, my mind was in shock, I ended up spending so much time looking at the first body, at a person who used to eat, drink, and maybe even look at exhibits in a museum. Just frozen in plastic. The bodies were posed and seemed ‘ultra’-real, there was a teacher, a runner, an almost voyeuristic look at a mother and her unborn child, a family holding hands, and more.
It is gruesome to know that they are real and individuals…but with no skin, no color, no religion, they are just people. Just the same mix of red and yellow and blue as anybody.
They are just a mix of many complex systems intertwined and working as one machine. A beautifully engineered machine who’s creation may have been more in exercise in ‘beauty than utility.’
This exhibit, this human body may be more appropriately placed in an art museum rather than one devoted to science.
Check out http://latitude.blogspot.com for Z’s take on this.
Wednesday, July 13, 2005
Soma-tose
Ever read Brave New World? I haven’t since high school and I’m glad I picked it up again, because I was probably did not get a whole lot out of it then. It’s an Orwelian-esque novel where a Utopia is created through conditioning and chemicals. In this strange society, everyone is conditioned to know their place and everyone takes ‘happy’ pills.
They are happy drones. Of course it begs the question, are they better off not knowing?
Isn’t there is so much that we are (blissfully?) ignorant of? With our TV pills and 9-5 conditioning you have to wonder
“Don’t you want to be free and men? Don’t you even understand what manhood and freedom are?” – Aldous Huxley
They are happy drones. Of course it begs the question, are they better off not knowing?
Isn’t there is so much that we are (blissfully?) ignorant of? With our TV pills and 9-5 conditioning you have to wonder
“Don’t you want to be free and men? Don’t you even understand what manhood and freedom are?” – Aldous Huxley
Friday, June 24, 2005
Portrait
This weekend while celebrating Maryam's first birthday was the first time that my entire family has been in the same place at the same time, since several people have become part of the family. Now adays, seldom does it seem we are in the same place. So we decided to capture it on film.
What an ordeal, a fun one! In a matter of seconds it was decided that we would try to do a family portrait. And do it NOW! So the house was in a mess as we moved furniture and set up lights and cameras to record this likely to be the last time there are only 10 people in the family, and in one place. We had every combination of sleeping and awake kids, our rooms appeared as if they had thrown up with clothes strewn about and finally we all were awake, dressed to kill and posing.
I guess 20 pictures is not enough to capture a pose with 10 people all with their eyes open and not looking wierd at the same time, but it was a very fun 3 hours.
The best part was the 10 seconds between each time the timer was pressed and the picture was taken. The whole family trying to get the two kids to not cry and look at the camera put a real smile on everyones face. A smile from the heart, not the head...and even though we won't have it in a frame, I have it in my head.
What an ordeal, a fun one! In a matter of seconds it was decided that we would try to do a family portrait. And do it NOW! So the house was in a mess as we moved furniture and set up lights and cameras to record this likely to be the last time there are only 10 people in the family, and in one place. We had every combination of sleeping and awake kids, our rooms appeared as if they had thrown up with clothes strewn about and finally we all were awake, dressed to kill and posing.
I guess 20 pictures is not enough to capture a pose with 10 people all with their eyes open and not looking wierd at the same time, but it was a very fun 3 hours.
The best part was the 10 seconds between each time the timer was pressed and the picture was taken. The whole family trying to get the two kids to not cry and look at the camera put a real smile on everyones face. A smile from the heart, not the head...and even though we won't have it in a frame, I have it in my head.
Wednesday, June 08, 2005
Risk
I was playing risk, the game of "world domination" recently and went home with it on my mind. I worked out the probabilities of outcomes for the different scenarios. It wasn't that hard really, and now I want to find something more challenging, but for now here are the results.
I had some trouble putting the numbers into blogger, but basically the way to consistently win is to attack as much as possible. The wrong message or just good old fashion entertainment?
I had some trouble putting the numbers into blogger, but basically the way to consistently win is to attack as much as possible. The wrong message or just good old fashion entertainment?
Friday, May 27, 2005
Jati
“Welcome to the world”.
Rebirth. I feel like the potential is there all the time. A friend of mine wrote in his blog, “the end is near”, and I thought, “yeah, isn’t it great?”.
I have had this great feeling for a long time of being on the verge of being in the best time of my life. Excited. Thrilled. Dizzy with joy at the thought of what I have to look forward to, and the change I know that is right around the corner.
A book I’m reading about how the souls, of the characters are connected and intertwined. More so the book is about their relationships. It is so easy for me to identify with this. I feel ‘reborn’ all the time. Reading a friends blog, talking with ZP, reconnecting with a friend, making a new one, simultaneously being a son and a husband, or being a brother.
I feel so intertwined and it provides so much perspective. Every day is so rich with these relationships. Relationships that make me feel so intertwined with my jati.
Rebirth. I feel like the potential is there all the time. A friend of mine wrote in his blog, “the end is near”, and I thought, “yeah, isn’t it great?”.
I have had this great feeling for a long time of being on the verge of being in the best time of my life. Excited. Thrilled. Dizzy with joy at the thought of what I have to look forward to, and the change I know that is right around the corner.
A book I’m reading about how the souls, of the characters are connected and intertwined. More so the book is about their relationships. It is so easy for me to identify with this. I feel ‘reborn’ all the time. Reading a friends blog, talking with ZP, reconnecting with a friend, making a new one, simultaneously being a son and a husband, or being a brother.
I feel so intertwined and it provides so much perspective. Every day is so rich with these relationships. Relationships that make me feel so intertwined with my jati.
Sunday, February 06, 2005
Nam
Viet-nam, that is.
This place just reeks of war. It's in the air and you can just smell it, it is so ripe. Some of it has even become tourist attractions. And as a dutiful tourist...
Cu-Chi. This place just near Saigon is where some of the fiercest fighting took place. During the war 8 million tons of bombs fell on this small country and many of them on this resilient place. An the evidence is apperent. There are massive craters left by the b-52 bombers. Footprints of a giant. The National Front for Liberation, vietcong (vietnamese communist) as they were named by their enemies, built a system of tunnels here.
After visiting this place it is easy to see that the vietcong had a huge psychological advantage over any enemy. They lived in a system of tunnels. These small, dark burrows deep in the ground were where the vietcong lived with the support of the people. Even the bravest soldier couldn't be blamed for not following into these tunnels. This place is full of horrible booby and landmines made from the bombs of their enemies. And enemies who passed too noisily had to worry about being devestaed by guerillas who would emerge from the ground .
This place was ripe with war, horrible war and the lifestyle of the vietcong had to fit...getting rid of the smoke from cooking without being detected, the "food" they ate for months and years, the bathrooms, the many 2x2x2 holes in the ground that served as one man bomb shelters, the clothes they wore. All this, not to mention a foreign enemy having to deal with the heat, malarial mosquitoes, and monsoon rain. The shear dedication to a cause was enough to scare the pants off me.
The realization that our tour guide who visited this place day after day was probably the age of an average soldier during this dehumanization of south vietnam really turned my brain.
This place just reeks of war. It's in the air and you can just smell it, it is so ripe. Some of it has even become tourist attractions. And as a dutiful tourist...
Cu-Chi. This place just near Saigon is where some of the fiercest fighting took place. During the war 8 million tons of bombs fell on this small country and many of them on this resilient place. An the evidence is apperent. There are massive craters left by the b-52 bombers. Footprints of a giant. The National Front for Liberation, vietcong (vietnamese communist) as they were named by their enemies, built a system of tunnels here.
After visiting this place it is easy to see that the vietcong had a huge psychological advantage over any enemy. They lived in a system of tunnels. These small, dark burrows deep in the ground were where the vietcong lived with the support of the people. Even the bravest soldier couldn't be blamed for not following into these tunnels. This place is full of horrible booby and landmines made from the bombs of their enemies. And enemies who passed too noisily had to worry about being devestaed by guerillas who would emerge from the ground .
This place was ripe with war, horrible war and the lifestyle of the vietcong had to fit...getting rid of the smoke from cooking without being detected, the "food" they ate for months and years, the bathrooms, the many 2x2x2 holes in the ground that served as one man bomb shelters, the clothes they wore. All this, not to mention a foreign enemy having to deal with the heat, malarial mosquitoes, and monsoon rain. The shear dedication to a cause was enough to scare the pants off me.
The realization that our tour guide who visited this place day after day was probably the age of an average soldier during this dehumanization of south vietnam really turned my brain.
Saturday, January 29, 2005
Thai Drama
Two hours at the Chalermkrung Theatre, another Bangkok night. The theatre in a way was so much like what you would expect, but Bangkok in a way that has yet to disappoint.
We had great seats and it was two hours watching “The actress”. The imagery was great. The curtains opened to a woman dancing in traditional Thai dress and this amazing music. Being deaf to every word, but still hearing every action made it so different.
But for me the music stole the show. You might expect there to be a band or an orchestra, but there was one person. He was playing this instrument that made this incredible noise that you could just feel in your bones. I don’t know what it was called, but it was as if he took the insides out of a grand piano and played the strings with his hands.
One more thing, at the end of the show, several people went up to the stage and showed their appreciation by handing flowers to the actors and actresses. So simple and nice. Why not cross that line?
We had great seats and it was two hours watching “The actress”. The imagery was great. The curtains opened to a woman dancing in traditional Thai dress and this amazing music. Being deaf to every word, but still hearing every action made it so different.
But for me the music stole the show. You might expect there to be a band or an orchestra, but there was one person. He was playing this instrument that made this incredible noise that you could just feel in your bones. I don’t know what it was called, but it was as if he took the insides out of a grand piano and played the strings with his hands.
One more thing, at the end of the show, several people went up to the stage and showed their appreciation by handing flowers to the actors and actresses. So simple and nice. Why not cross that line?
Thursday, January 06, 2005
anniversary II
I was just out walking on the campus near dusk when from out behind a wall a teacher's kid shoots out on a bicycle. This little girl with hypnotic grey eyes wearing an obnoxious fluffy pink dress flowing in the wind riding her proportionally mini cherry red bicycle as fast as physics will allow the kiddie huffy to go brings a smile to my face. An 'insta'-smiile. Not thinking about what i've seen, just smiling and being in the moment.
I'm coming up on an anniversary of sorts. Though, it's true the number of dates in the year worth remembering have gone from 0-60 in a couple years since meeting zahra. Worth remembering indeed. This last year has been filled with more moments than any before. Good. Bad. Incredible. And several more words that fail to describe any of these moments.
Getting to my point...well i guess i don't have one, not totally neccesary i suppose. I read something today that, sadly, made me feel good about my writing. "Inspiration doesn't automatically give birth to technique."
I'm coming up on an anniversary of sorts. Though, it's true the number of dates in the year worth remembering have gone from 0-60 in a couple years since meeting zahra. Worth remembering indeed. This last year has been filled with more moments than any before. Good. Bad. Incredible. And several more words that fail to describe any of these moments.
Getting to my point...well i guess i don't have one, not totally neccesary i suppose. I read something today that, sadly, made me feel good about my writing. "Inspiration doesn't automatically give birth to technique."
Thursday, December 30, 2004
basic
I spent the better part of 15 hours trying to make relief packages for some of the people that have felt the devastation. Only the most basic things...toothbrush, toothpaste, rice, water, blankets, things that would require more thought to be taken for granted.
The last few days my spirit has just been non-existent, absent. Finally, yesterday a tangible way of helping...feeling it in my hands and my back that i have done something, i still feel like shit. With all the effort of the people working, we provided relief to a few thousand people for a mere few hours, while milllions of people are displaced. I am pretty sure i'm supposed to feel good about something, but i don't and i don't understand why. What's happened and what's happening is affecting me so much and I didn't personally know anyone affected directly. If I did, at least i would be able to understand how i'm feeling. I feel displaced.
The last few days my spirit has just been non-existent, absent. Finally, yesterday a tangible way of helping...feeling it in my hands and my back that i have done something, i still feel like shit. With all the effort of the people working, we provided relief to a few thousand people for a mere few hours, while milllions of people are displaced. I am pretty sure i'm supposed to feel good about something, but i don't and i don't understand why. What's happened and what's happening is affecting me so much and I didn't personally know anyone affected directly. If I did, at least i would be able to understand how i'm feeling. I feel displaced.
Saturday, December 04, 2004
baby bird
Saturday morning i walked into class to find a bird in the classroom, ordinarily nothing even to bat an eye at, ordinary. This was a baby, however, that entered the room and couldn't get out.
I spent what seemed like hours just trying to show this baby the door and have it fly through it. It just couldn't find it and flew here and there and into windows and walls. Forever just trying to urge this scared, confused, infantile little bird through the door. Following it both hands cupped and making ridiculous bird noises getting it to cross that threshold.
Despite the many things i don't like about being a teacher, i enjoy coming in on saturdays and helping those kids who need the extra help. This week i spent more than an hour encouraging a shy girl just to speak in audible tones, just a girl who could use more attention.
I look forward to seeing the baby birds on saturday.
I spent what seemed like hours just trying to show this baby the door and have it fly through it. It just couldn't find it and flew here and there and into windows and walls. Forever just trying to urge this scared, confused, infantile little bird through the door. Following it both hands cupped and making ridiculous bird noises getting it to cross that threshold.
Despite the many things i don't like about being a teacher, i enjoy coming in on saturdays and helping those kids who need the extra help. This week i spent more than an hour encouraging a shy girl just to speak in audible tones, just a girl who could use more attention.
I look forward to seeing the baby birds on saturday.
Tuesday, November 23, 2004
Extra
Every day is full of things that are Extra-ordinary, as I see them anyway. Tonight I’m just thinking about the past few days and all the crazy things that have just happened as totally normal.
I’ll just tell you about a couple…Yesterday riding in a sang thaew (the back of a pick up truck) on the way home from dinner the car stopped in the usual traffic and just maybe two feet away on this one lane road was an elephant’s big but….hmmmm….Today, I attended a shameless so called fundraising carnival complete with crooked carnival games including “pin the bindi on the forehead”.
It seems that not a day goes by without the daily departure from the ordinary.
I’ll just tell you about a couple…Yesterday riding in a sang thaew (the back of a pick up truck) on the way home from dinner the car stopped in the usual traffic and just maybe two feet away on this one lane road was an elephant’s big but….hmmmm….Today, I attended a shameless so called fundraising carnival complete with crooked carnival games including “pin the bindi on the forehead”.
It seems that not a day goes by without the daily departure from the ordinary.
Wednesday, November 17, 2004
School Spirit
This is something that still baffles me. Being a student, I can’t say that I had very much of this. Being a teacher, I see now why this can be important. The students I teach who have it take pride in their work, in their appearance and are concerned with their results. They are just all-around more pleasant to teach.
I had classmates who had a lot of school spirit at my school and friends at other schools who did as well. I didn’t understand it then and still do not. Now, however, I see it as beneficial to the kids in this school. How can one instill school spirit? Can one instill a sense of pride? It’s on my mind and if the few people who read this have any thoughts, I’d love to hear them.
I had classmates who had a lot of school spirit at my school and friends at other schools who did as well. I didn’t understand it then and still do not. Now, however, I see it as beneficial to the kids in this school. How can one instill school spirit? Can one instill a sense of pride? It’s on my mind and if the few people who read this have any thoughts, I’d love to hear them.
Monday, November 15, 2004
Fresh
Totally? Partially? Not at all? Shaped by all the things around us. Probably.
Sometimes it can just be overwhelming. Listening to other people, seeing their attitudes, there situations…I see it. The influence can seep in over time, sometimes it comes all at once, but it is unmistakably there. It affects how you feel about going to work, going home, going out, just about going anywhere doing anything.
Fresh. Taking stock. Just one day wake up and push all that aside. Forget about how much or little you have, just go through the day and just decide for yourself. I did that today and Monday seemed a lot less like Monday and Friday didn’t seem so far away.
Sometimes it can just be overwhelming. Listening to other people, seeing their attitudes, there situations…I see it. The influence can seep in over time, sometimes it comes all at once, but it is unmistakably there. It affects how you feel about going to work, going home, going out, just about going anywhere doing anything.
Fresh. Taking stock. Just one day wake up and push all that aside. Forget about how much or little you have, just go through the day and just decide for yourself. I did that today and Monday seemed a lot less like Monday and Friday didn’t seem so far away.
Friday, November 05, 2004
The Garden
Every day I see about 120 children whose name faces I know, whose names I know, and personalities I know. I hadn't realized how attatched I would become to many of them. It is something that just didn't cross my mind...I interact with these children, these little people who are so much individuals in their own way, every day. I can not really think of another profession where you might interact so often and intimately with other people.
I can really understand now why high school teachers are so happy to see their former favorites years later. It's incredible that I KNOW these 9, 10, and 11 year olds...To see them grow up in front of my eyes...In a year, in two years, in ten years. In a way it's like a parent watching their kids grow up, but rather watching hundreds grow up at so many stages of adolescence and childhood, SIMULTANEOUSLY.
Tending to a growing garden, just waiting patiently for it to flower. Waiting for the brats of 4B to become the young adults of 10B. That's rewarding.
I can really understand now why high school teachers are so happy to see their former favorites years later. It's incredible that I KNOW these 9, 10, and 11 year olds...To see them grow up in front of my eyes...In a year, in two years, in ten years. In a way it's like a parent watching their kids grow up, but rather watching hundreds grow up at so many stages of adolescence and childhood, SIMULTANEOUSLY.
Tending to a growing garden, just waiting patiently for it to flower. Waiting for the brats of 4B to become the young adults of 10B. That's rewarding.
Wednesday, October 27, 2004
Complacency
God Dammit people! Get off your ass and do something about it. If there's something wrong, and you know it DO SOMETHING.
I'm so sick of people just passively taking what comes. Passive is not even the word to describe it, as someone so aptly described a person in a bad situation, "not being passive, but actively doing nothing"
if this describes you, then i say, 'what the hell man?'
I'm so sick of people just passively taking what comes. Passive is not even the word to describe it, as someone so aptly described a person in a bad situation, "not being passive, but actively doing nothing"
if this describes you, then i say, 'what the hell man?'
ASS-umption
Assumption makes an ass out of u and me. I’ve heard that lame joke so many times. It rings truer today. I on the other side of the teaching desk, and there is so much perspective to be had on both sides.
There are countless situations and relationships where you probably don’t know the whole story. Parents, teachers, bosses, peers, and many others. I interact with people who fall into these categories. What I think I know affects these relationships.
Consciously, I wouldn’t think I knew the whole story, but I think this experience has taken a layer of subconscious ‘ass making’ right off.
There are countless situations and relationships where you probably don’t know the whole story. Parents, teachers, bosses, peers, and many others. I interact with people who fall into these categories. What I think I know affects these relationships.
Consciously, I wouldn’t think I knew the whole story, but I think this experience has taken a layer of subconscious ‘ass making’ right off.
Wednesday, October 20, 2004
Time
I’m still thinking about complaining, more specifically what is everyone complaining about. A big one is not having enough time. For once, I feel like I have so much time, and even more fortunately for me is that I realize it and am not wasting it.
Not unlike many I imagine, work has become little more than a means for me. It’s a means to be here, to be learning about myself and giving me so much time. However difficult or frustrating a day at work can be, I’m still home (and with Zahra!) by 3:30 with the whole day stretching ahead of me. I have more time to be with Zahra, read, think, and do other things that have always been a lesser priority then ever before.
Not unlike many I imagine, work has become little more than a means for me. It’s a means to be here, to be learning about myself and giving me so much time. However difficult or frustrating a day at work can be, I’m still home (and with Zahra!) by 3:30 with the whole day stretching ahead of me. I have more time to be with Zahra, read, think, and do other things that have always been a lesser priority then ever before.
Thursday, October 14, 2004
Happy
I don't understand why so many people spend all their time (or what seems like) complaining. Even if there's nothing current to complain about...just bitch and moan on and on about something that in the past or something that might happen in the future.
It's as if they've signed a contract promising to be unhappy...everyone could complain about something if they wanted. Being unhappy is as much a choice as being calm, or being angry, or being...happy.
It's as if they've signed a contract promising to be unhappy...everyone could complain about something if they wanted. Being unhappy is as much a choice as being calm, or being angry, or being...happy.
Friday, October 08, 2004
Community
Jamaat- the simple translation would be community. Chicago is my home, and I like to think I’ll always be a part of the Chicago jamaat.
But here, in Bangkok, I belong to a new jamaat, and this one is markedly different from any I’ve been in before. First it’s not Indian. It’s 3 or 4 generations Thai. The first language here is Thai. The people are Thai. The food is Thai. From it’s inception 120 years ago, this jamaat has flowered in seeming isolation from the global community. There is a translation of the majalis in Thai, and they even pay homage to the royal family of Thailand at each function.
It’s very different, but when you walk in the masjid, it’s still unmistakably Bohra. And though it’s like any other Bohra experience I’ve had before, I’ve gotten a sense of community that I feel should be at the heart of any jamaat.
One difference is that the Amil doesn’t sit on a thakat, many feet off the ground, rather only a few inches at the audience’s level. During Vaas, the Amil asks questions, takes jamaat member’s names…talks to rather than at.
I am a new member and am not privy to many of the unspoken obligations and gossip and history and hierarchy that goes along with being a part of any social or cultural organization which is quite possibly just below the surface. From this distance, however, it feels how a community should…like a family (I know this must be a slight exaggeration, but that’s how I feel right now)
But here, in Bangkok, I belong to a new jamaat, and this one is markedly different from any I’ve been in before. First it’s not Indian. It’s 3 or 4 generations Thai. The first language here is Thai. The people are Thai. The food is Thai. From it’s inception 120 years ago, this jamaat has flowered in seeming isolation from the global community. There is a translation of the majalis in Thai, and they even pay homage to the royal family of Thailand at each function.
It’s very different, but when you walk in the masjid, it’s still unmistakably Bohra. And though it’s like any other Bohra experience I’ve had before, I’ve gotten a sense of community that I feel should be at the heart of any jamaat.
One difference is that the Amil doesn’t sit on a thakat, many feet off the ground, rather only a few inches at the audience’s level. During Vaas, the Amil asks questions, takes jamaat member’s names…talks to rather than at.
I am a new member and am not privy to many of the unspoken obligations and gossip and history and hierarchy that goes along with being a part of any social or cultural organization which is quite possibly just below the surface. From this distance, however, it feels how a community should…like a family (I know this must be a slight exaggeration, but that’s how I feel right now)
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