On Memory

Posted May 2, 2011 by Jeff
Categories: Uncategorized

Tags:

Human memory is an amazing thing.

I can still recall, almost without thinking about it, the name and subject of every teacher I’ve had since Kindergarten:

  • Checetti (K)
  • Luzier (1st)
  • Coleman (2nd)
  • York (3rd)
  • King (4th)
  • King (5th, homeroom, science)
  • Morgan (5th, math)
  • Valonis (5th history)
  • Evans (6th, homeroom, science)
  • Rohlfs (6th, math)
  • Monroe (6th, history)
  • Kreitman (7th, homeroom, science)
  • Gaherty (7th, history)
  • Appling (7th, english)
  • Block (7th, gym) (this one took me a second)
  • Schweitzer (7th, tech)
  • Anderson (7th, orchestra)
  • Biernesser (7th, Algebra 1)
  • Anderson (8th, homeroom, Orchestra)
  • Lister (8th, Latin 1)
  • Prosser (8th, gym)
  • Davenport (8th, civics) (With Lotz as a long-term sub when Mrs. D got pregnant)
  • McElveen (8th, english)
  • Bates (8th, science)
  • McConnaughey (8th, geometry)
  • Rugel (9th, English)
  • Spagna (9th, Latin 2)
  • Nolte (9th, biology)
  • Plunkett (9th, history)
  • DiBarri (9th, Algebra 2)
  • Cuc (9th, APCS)
  • John (9th, gym)
  • Lankford (10th, gym)
  • Jackson (10th, AP World History)
  • Bonafide (10th, english)
  • Guch (10th, chem)
  • Robb (10th, precalc)
  • McCormick (10th, orchestra)
  • Sferios (10th, Latin 3)
  • Puhlick (11th, AP Chem)
  • Culbertson (11th, Physics 1)
  • Douglas (11th, Calc BC)
  • Kuhn (11th, AP World) (after switching from Benson)
  • McCormick (11th, Orchestra)
  • Roche (11th, AP Lang/Comp) (after switching from Landis)
  • Sferios (11th, AP Latin Catullus/Ovid)
  • Kissling (12th, AP Gov)
  • Douglas (12th, Multivariable Calc, Matrix Alg.)
  • McCormick (12th, Chamber Orch)
  • Culbertson (12th, AP Physics)
  • McCormick (12th, Concert Orchestra)
  • Tiffany (12th, AP Vergil)
  • Barrs (12th, AP Lit/Comp)
  • Wang (F’10, Elem. Chinese 1)
  • Haselin (F’10, Interp. and Argument) (This is the only class I forgot…)
  • Flaherty (F’10, Calc3D) (TA: Boney)
  • Mihai (F’10, Concepts of Math) (TA: Sharma)
  • Pfenning (F’10, Prin. Imp. Programming) (TA: Lovas)
  • Carrasquel (F’10, Freshman Seminar)
  • Licata (S’11, Prin. Func. Programming) (TAs: Voysey, Artnz)
  • Sullivan (S’11, Intro to ECE)
  • Von Ahn (S’11, Great Theoretical Ideas in Computer Science) (TA: Wilson)
  • Dudek (S’11, Combinatorics)
  • Li (S’11, Elementary Chinese 2) (I dropped this class due to the workload…)
  • Hamilton, Paris, Wedler, Rose (S’11, Fun with Robots)
And that’s all of them.
I still remember feelings.  I remember the sadness, anger, and frustration I felt when I got denied from TJHSST.  I remember the thrill of an intense FIRST robotics competition.  I remember the pride I felt when I won the Faculty award at my high school graduation and got my first (and, to date, only) standing ovation.  I remember the satisfaction and relief when I finished my Eagle Scout Rank.  And I remember, as clear as day, exactly where I was when each of these events took place.  I can close my eyes and go back to those instants like photographs.
I remember where I was when I had my first kiss.  I remember exactly what was in front of me, beside me, around me.  I remember the indescribable blend of “should I really be doing this?” and “this feels so right why didn’t I do this sooner?”  I remember exactly where I was when I held her hand and we laughed about a particularly funny joke on a beautiful fall weekend.  I remember exactly where I was and how I felt when she first told me she loved me.  And I remember, vividly, exactly where I was when she broke my heart.  I find myself back there, sometimes, too.  As clear as the day it happened, the very same tears in my eyes, clouding my world.
And these are just the important ones.  There are other moments, too, that I can immediately and completely recall.  Ones that have no apparent meaning at all to my life.  But they are there.
Human memory is amazing.  I remember all of this.
But I still can’t always remember what day it is.

Discrimination In Our Time?

Posted November 17, 2010 by Jeff
Categories: Uncategorized

Originally written for Interpretation and Argument, 76-101 K, Fall 2010, Taught by David Haeselin

Discrimination In Our Time?

The potential for the acceptance or rejection of post-human beings in our society

It’s in our nature, as humans, to segregate things. While this particular characteristic of our nature has helped us to survive as a species – separating good from bad, healthy from poisonous, friend from foe – the intrinsic fear of the unknown that allows us to do this so reliably also often hinders our acceptance of new ideas and ways of life. We are naturally hostile towards new cultures and peoples, with the slave trade, crusades, and the brutalities of European Empires in Africa and Asia all being prime examples. But how would we, as a species and as a culture, react to an entity foreign to all of us – indeed, not even “human” in the sense that we know the word – yet just as intelligent or more so than any of us?

Some would argue that this will never happen. The “singularity” – a word that exists in some nether-region between science and science fiction and defines the point at which humans eclipse themselves with an artificial intelligence superior to their own – might never happen. But both our current trajectory and our current reality as a technologically advanced civilization seem to suggest that it will, some day, in some shape or form, happen. Some, the more outgoing among us, suggest that we will willingly adopt and embrace the new entities as equals or even as superiors. Others posit that our fear of the unknown will prevail and that we will – or perhaps, for whatever reason, must – reject them as equals and do whatever it takes to subjugate them. Finally, some argue that we as humans will slowly transition into some post-human being, absorbing new technologies and ways of thinking until we have surpassed what we know today as “humanity.” These three groups, labeled the adopters, the rejectors, and the absorbers, represent three very different outlooks on the issue of post-human beings.

The first group, who can be labeled the “adopters”, suggests that we will – or at least should – accept post-human entities as a full part of our society. This group is more optimistic and, in some sense, a progressive movement: progressives throughout history have tended to fight for the social status of previously shunned or neglected groups, though often as a byproduct of a larger goal. Those who make predictions of adoption tend to see “post-humans” not as some entirely new intelligence but instead as exactly that: the thing that comes after humanity. In his “How to be Inhuman,” Ronald Bailey argues that we have already begun transforming ourselves into post-humans and that we’ve willingly embraced the changes we made. He notes that “from childhood on, we are constantly exhorted to improve ourselves by taking more classes, participating in more job training, and reading good books,” and argues that this is in fact modification (Bailey). These practices, he posits, change the structure of the brain and allow it to perform better than it previously could: intentional manipulation of the self at a biological level. Yet we are, in his words, “exhorted” to do these things. Society has, according to Bailey, actively embraced the idea of modification as long as it seems like a natural phenomenon. Erik Davis, the author of “Don’t Look Back,” seems to agree. He takes a slightly different approach, arguing that the “modification” that makes us post-human isn’t necessarily conditioning and slow pushing of our biological boundaries but instead is the science fiction-esque technology which has become essentially an extension of our bodies. He argues that science fiction has become less a genre of fantasy and closer to “a basic mode of being in…our world” (Davis). His basic premise is that the fantastical – the fictional – is less of an escape into another world than a glimpse of what our future might look like. The idea of a direct link from our brains to information isn’t a fantasy, he seems to argue, as much as an oversimplification. A modern smartphone can be always on your person and give you very rapid access to most of human knowledge: is this not a nearly-direct link between knowledge and the mind? Davis argues, if somewhat indirectly, that our modern pervasive technology gives us an super-human and therefore post-human perspective on the world. We don’t just adopt or embrace this, we actively pursue new and better ways of doing it. Davis and Bailey both argue that we are in the process of adopting post-human traits. While they disagree on the specifics of how we’re doing it or what the traits actually are, they agree completely that we are only helping ourselves and advancing our species by doing so. They are firm believers in the adoption-acceptance paradigm of dealing with post-humanity.

Yet others seem more hesitant. These people, the “rejectors”, try to resist post-humanity because it means, by definition, losing what we know today as “humanity.” In his “The Political Control of Biotechnology,” Francis Fukuyama expresses such concerns. As early as his introduction, he states that “certain technologies…deserve to be banned outright” (Fukuyama 183). His basic argument throughout that work – which deals with his perceived need for regulation of many technologies – is that the potential for destruction and chaos outweigh the potential for positive progress. “Science by itself cannot establish the ends to which it is put,” he writes, “Science can…uncover the physics of semiconductors but also the physics of atomic bombs” (Fukuyama, 185). His argument is not that scientific development should be halted, but that it should be strictly monitored and regulated so that only carefully controlled, “good” results come out. This is intrinsically opposed to the idea of post-human modification: humans are capable of both good and bad, so any modification worth noting should extend their capabilities to do both good and bad simply by extending their capabilities to do everything all at once. Fukuyama’s argument is that technology and science cannot distinguish right from wrong and therefore should be limited. In this argument By this logic, post-humans – human-like beings or otherwise – should not be allowed to exist because of their potential for causing even greater chaos than what current humans are capable of. Thomas Pynchon suggests that, even if for potentially the wrong reasons, many people will agree with Fukuyama and reject any semblance of post-humanity. Pynchon argues that many will adopt a “Luddite” attitude towards post-human advances: when they feel obsolete, they will rebel, smashing anything and everything in the way of regaining superiority. Pynchon argues that this mentality, which ultimately boils down to a desire to remain the highest, most advanced form of being at all costs, is natural. Indeed, it may very well be a manifestation of our intrinsic fear of the unknown. Both authors argue that people should and will reject technological advances that will remove them from their firm position of power, even if those advances would put them on a more dependent and dangerous yet higher intellectual pedestal. The rejectors and the adopters have a fundamental disagreement on this point: whereas the adopters would relinquish their absolute control over intellectual dominance to pursue greater intellectual ability, the rejectors would rather maintain their monopoly on superiority even at the expense of superior knowledge.

Finally, many argue that post-humanity is simply the next phase of humanity. They argue that we will, as a species and as a culture, absorb new technologies until we are unrecognizable to our present selves. Every author mentioned so far, whether he supports adoption or rejection of post-humanity, has agreed somewhat with the statement that our modified, technologically-augmented reality is in some ways post-human. Authors like Carr argue that our future may be existence as some synthesis of humanity and information-technology. In his “Is Google Making Us Stupid?,” he suggests that our immediate access to nearly all information has shifted the way we process information from depth-based to breadth-based: knowing a lot about something is no longer as important or useful as knowing about a lot of somethings because we can always look up details. The human part of our brains is used to connect relevant data together, but the actual storage of that information is relegated to a cloud of silicon. He considers the desire of Sergey Brin and Larry Page, the founders of Google, to turn their search engine into “an artificial intelligence, a HAL-like machine that might be connected directly to our brains” (Carr). He presents his views on why this could potentially be a good or bad thing, but ultimately concludes that something along those lines seems inevitable in our future as a race. His article, which catalogs how digital media is changing the way we process information, hints at the fact that as we create new ways to augment our brains with data, we are also changing our brains to augment that information. If this cycle is extrapolated, it is clear to see how our descendants could be considered “post-human:” streams of information would be as much a part of them as their limbs. Vernor Vinge, the author of the seminal “On the Coming Technological Singularity,” calls this slide into post-humanity “Intelligence Amplification (IA)” (Vinge). He describes IA as “something that is proceeding very naturally, in most cases not even recognized by its developers for what it is” (Vinge). This procession is happening now, as evidenced by Vinge and the other authors cited, and Vinge asserts that its continuation is inevitable. N. Katherine Hayles also makes this point in her “How We Became Posthuman.” In addition to the title of the work, she includes the simple but powerful idea that “the posthuman need not be antihuman” (Hayles 289). The thought that humanity will slip into post-humanity without even noticing is a rather comforting alternative to completely embracing or rejecting a new post-human entity.

The idea of a post-human being, whether it is a descendant of humans or something created by humans, is unsettling. Some argue that we should plunge in and embrace whatever that post-human thing is, allowing it to help us on our quest for enlightenment even at the expense of our own monopoly on knowledge, while others argue that losing our place as the most powerful or smartest beings that we know about would spell certain doom for our species. Yet a third group proposes a more abstract idea, that those “post-humans” are just that: the next logical step in humanity, and that we won’t get a choice of whether to embrace or reject our future. Who is right is unknowable until some post-humanity exists, and even then rejectors and adopters will argue over the merits of intellectual dominance versus intellectual depth, respectively. If the adopters are right, we may see a peaceful coexistence or a complete takeover of humanity. If the rejectors win out, we’ll either stay as the dominant intelligence forever or we’ll be violently overthrown. If the absorbers are right, we may never even notice that we’ve become post-human and wonder “what if…” forevermore. But by the time this happens, it may be too late.

Works Cited

Carr, Nicholas. “Is Google Making Us Stupid? – Magazine – The Atlantic.” Editorial. The Atlantic July 2008. Web. 27 Oct. 2010. <http://www.theatlantic.com/magazine/print/2008/07/is-google-making-us-stupid/6868/>.

Davis, Erik. “Don’t Look Back.” Techgnosis. 1999. Web. 27 Oct. 2010. <http://www.techgnosis.com/chunkshow-single.php?chunk=chunkfrom-2005-07-21-1341-0.txt&printable=1>.

Fukuyama, Francis. Our Posthuman Future: Consequences of the Biotechnology Revolution. New York: Farrar, Straus and Giroux, 2002. 181-94. Print.

Hayles, N. Katherine. “Conclusion.” How We Became Posthuman: Virtual Bodies in Cybernetics, Literature, and Informatics. Chicago, IL: University of Chicago, 1999. 282-91. Print.

“How to Be Inhuman.” Reason Magazine. 21 Sept. 2005. Web. 27 Oct. 2010. <http://reason.com/archives/2005/09/21/how-to-be-inhuman>.

Pynchon, Thomas. “Is It OK to Be a Luddite?” The Modern Word. 28 Oct. 1984. Web. 27 Oct. 2010. <http://www.themodernword.com/pynchon/pynchon_essays_luddite.html>.

Vinge, Vernor. “On the Coming Technological Singularity.” (1993). Web.

Repressed Homosexuality, or the Flaws of English Class

Posted March 9, 2010 by Jeff
Categories: Uncategorized

Reading that title was probably the most confusing thing you’ve done today.  Relax, I’ll soon fix that.

In English classes, we’re often told that the meaning of a work is “open to interpretation, as long as you can back up your opinion with relevant textual support.”  It’s no secret that I’m an engineer or a mathematician or somewhere in between, but I recognize that the world is not black and white.  That said, it isn’t tie-dye either.  There are some interpretations that are just plain wrong, despite relevant textual support.  The example I like to give is “This book/novel/play/poem is about repressed homosexuality.”  I do it to be funny, but I feel like I could say it with a straight face and be just as serious as a “literary critic.”  So, here is my condensed criticism of several books we’ve read in school over the years.  Some I enjoyed, some I despised.  I don’t sincerely believe that any of them are about repressed homosexuality, but I’m totally “serious” in my criticisms of them:

1) Jane Eyre

Charlotte Bronte’s Jane Eyre, while on the surface a Romantic love story (in the sense of the literary movement as well as the traditional definition), is a story about repressed homosexuality.  Jane, the main character, can be seen as a metaphor for today’s gay, lesbian, transgender, and bisexual population.  Jane grows up in a very traditional household and is educated at the Lowood School, a very traditional and proper academy.  Any deviation from the norm is met with stern criticism, just as traditionalists today refuse to tolerate homosexuals.  Jane, like many LGBTs, does not know at this point in her life that she will be developing a forbidden love.  Eventually she develops a love for Rochester, despite the fact that this love is forbidden by society, and keeps it secret for many months.  When she does finally work up the courage to confess her feelings, society steps in again and forbids their marriage.  Like a gay teenager who has been nearly disowned by his traditionalist parents, Jane flees the house and wanders the countryside.  She tries living a traditional life with St. John Rivers, a Christian missionary who represents the oppressive force of the fundamentalist Christian right who oppose homosexuality’s acceptance into today’s culture.  But she cannot stay away from her socially-unacceptable relationship with Rochester and eventually returns to him in a fit of passion and delusion.  Jane’s allegorical role as a repressed and oppressed homosexual is undeniable.  It is also total garbage.

2) 1984

George Orwell’s 1984 is about an oppressive government which completely represses the individual and individual expression.  I don’t think I need to say any more.

I’ll be posting more of these later.  Writing literary criticism is hard work!

An Open Letter to People Who I Might Talk To

Posted October 4, 2009 by Jeff
Categories: Uncategorized

I’m a senior in high school.  It’s pretty nice.  Shenanigans and not caring about anything academic (except college applications) are nice.  College applications are a pain, but must be done.  All of this was expected.  But by far the worst part of senior year is the constant flux of people doing this: (please excuse my usage of “them” as a gender-independent singular pronoun)

Me: Hi, I’m Jeff

Them: Nice to meet you

<context-dependent smalltalk, which I also hate>

Them: So, you go to Langley?

Me: Yeah.

Them: What year are you?

Me: I’m a senior. **At this point I brace myself for the inevitable**

Them: Oh, you must be looking at colleges!  Where do you want to go?

At this point, one of two things happens.  I either deflect by saying “I have no idea, I’m just applying everywhere and hoping I get in somewhere.”

If I’m stupid enough to continue the conversation, it goes *exactly* like this:

Me: MIT, Caltech, CMU, UIllinois, Stanford, I’m looking for somewhere with a really good Robotics or Computer Science Program

Them: Ah, so engineering?

Me: Yep.  (It’s worth pointing out here that If I don’t end up doing robotics, I’ll likely do CS, which is NOT engineering.  But saying this would prolong the conversation)

Them: You said Robotics, right?  You should check out Georgia Tech.

Me: Yeah, that’s on the list too.

At this point they offer some sort of well-wish (“Good Luck” or “I’m sure you’ll get in somewhere great”) and I try really hard to go eat something.  Because chances are if I’m talking to someone I don’t know very well, I’m at a party.  And parties have food.  And I like food.

So I offer this open letter to everyone:

================================================


Dear Person:

You have just asked me about my college situation.  Congratulations!  You probably thought you were pretty clever to ask me about something pertinent to my age demographic!  So here you go: Yes, I am applying to college.  I’m applying to the following places

<Insert your list of colleges here>

I’m really interested in studying <Some description of your intended career path.  If you don’t know, make something up, or say “anything, really.”  You could insert something incredibly strange like Animal Husbandry (ala Accepted)>.  I really want to be a <career> when I grow up.

I’m so glad you’re interested in my future!  Want to make a donation to my college fund?

Thanks so much,

<sign here>

<Your Name>

================================================


Okay, it isn’t my best work.  But it will keep someone entertained/perplexed long enough for you to slip away to the refreshment table.  I hear the little hot dogs are nice.

I would highly recommend everyone to keep one of these in their wallet, in case you get into a situation where you might need one.

Applying Mergesort in a Latin Classroom

Posted September 16, 2009 by Jeff
Categories: Programming, School

Tags: , , ,

Today I was faced with a rather challenging quiz in AP Latin Class: Put the following events from book one of the Aeneid in chronological order.  There were 14 of them.  Now sure, I’d read book one, but I read it for overall themes, not individual points.  The quiz (thankfully) wasn’t graded, but I didn’t know that until after faced with this daunting question.  And for added fun, I was doing it in pen.  No mistakes.

I was staring at the various points on the page with no idea how to approach it.  There were fourteen points.  Five or so I could order mentally.  Fourteen I could not.  I couldn’t recall line numbers for each point, as I read it in English, so no luck ordering by numbers.  So I started looking through the list, searching for the earliest one.  As my conscious was hard at work doing this menial task, my subconscious was laughing.  “This is like an insertion sort!  Looping through each one for comparison?  Shame on you, that’s O(n^2)!”

Then it hit me: I was doing an insertion sort.  There was a better way.

Thankfully I had a large right-hand margin, as I used nearly all of it during my next step.  I drew a line between the first seven and last seven points.  Then I divided each again.  And again, until I had groups of two and three.  Perfect.  Now, instead of figuring out which event globally came first, I simply had to figure out which event in each group of two was first and which was last.  O(1), n times.  Then I had merge.  start with the earliest event in each adjacent group.  Which was earlier?  Put it first and move my finger to the next one in that list.  Repeat.  This was a rather tedious process, but brainless: all I had to do was see which of the two events my fingers were pointing to happened first.  Easy.

I repeated this process several times until I had a single group.  Near-perfect mergesort, by hand.  The only difference was the comparison.  Not greater-than or less-than, but before or after.  And if I hadn’t placed Mercury’s arrival at Carthage where Cupid’s was (and misplaced a dramatic interlude by Venus), I would have gotten them all right.

I highly recommend that the general public learn mergesort.  It is my favorite real-life sorting algorithm; I use it to sort decks of cards, and now I use it on tests.  Yes, it’s not an in-place algorithm, so you need some space to spread out, but you don’t really need “markers” as you do in something like quicksort.  While quicksort uses less memory (or in the real life scenario, desk space) by being in-place, mergesort is comprehensible by even the worst mathematicians.  Which one’s bigger?  That’s all you need to know.

The Right To Care

Posted September 15, 2009 by Jeff
Categories: Debate, Politics

Tags: ,

From day one of grade school in the USA, if not sooner, we are taught that it is our civic duty to participate in elections, to voice our opinion, to change things we don’t feel are right.  We are told incessantly that to do so is our Civic Responsibility.  We are further told that we have, as citizens, rights and responsibilities that make up our existence as citizens.  We have the responsibility to attempt to change everything which displeases us about our government and society.  But do we always have the right?

I consider myself a staunch liberal, and my stance on nearly every issue in the modern political arena seems to confirm this.  But at my core, I feel that there are many things which we, as the government or as fellow citizens, do not have the right to intrude upon.  The founding fathers referred to these as “inalienable rights.”  They listed “life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness,”  but this statement needs a rather large asterisk beside it.  Sure, having liberty is nice, but not at the expense of the liberty of others.  We should, for instance, have liberty to decide what we eat for breakfast, or if we eat anything at all.  We should not have the liberty to hold someone at gunpoint and force them to eat cheerios each morning.

You may laugh at this statement.  Surely we would never pass a law mandating all citizens to eat cheerios.  What someone eats for breakfast has no effect on their contribution to society, their lawfulness, or any of their interactions with other members of society.  Why would we infringe upon the right to choose a breakfast?  But people who would laugh at such a sentiment actually would favor the mandatory cheerio consumption act.

Let’s try an experiment.  The question “What do you want for breakfast?” has three criteria that make it eligible for use in this comparison. First, somebody’s answer does not affect their contribution to society.  Second, his or her answer, unless it involves eating another human being or something of similar ridiculousness, has no effect on the person’s lawfulness or character.  Finally, what a person eats for breakfast only affects others as far as water-cooler conversation goes.  It does not affect others by any stretch of the imagination.

So we have three categories: Societal Value, Lawfulness / Character, and Impact on others.  If a question passes these three tests (that is, the answer has no effect on any of thes three areas,) we have no right to regulate it.  So let’s try a question.

  • Who do you want to marry?  This question is a very controversial topic in today’s society, and it really shouldn’t be.  Let’s look at the tests.  Societal Value:  people who marry the same gender, the opposite gender, or even inanimate objects for that matter all work exactly the same way.  There is no effect on societal value.  Character / Lawfulness: There is no law against any marriage as of now anywhere (as far as I am aware) except California, where Proposition 8 banned homosexual marriage, although a supreme court case is in the works to overturn this decision once and for all.  As for character, this is where most of the debate happens, specifically where religious fundamentalism is concerned.  Remember that you will always be burning in somebody’s hell, no matter what you believe. Finally, Impact on others.  Despite what many of the most vocal opponents of gay marriage say on the topic, being around a homosexual person does not make you any more likely to “catch the gay.”  Some people are gay, some aren’t.  They tend not to affect each other, except in politics.  So three passes for this question.  Nobody, be it the people or the government, has the right to regulate your answer to this question.

The idea that some party should not be able to force something upon another party is already in the law.  Consider the following scenario:

Jane Doe is walking down a busy square after leaving the temple.  She is Jewish.  Out of nowhere, a Militant Christian jumps at her with a knife and backs her into the corner.  At knifepoint, he demands that she accept Jesus into her heart.  Finally she is forced to submit.  Sound familiar?  Switch out a few words; there are laws against rape.  This is ultimately what many are attempting to do: rape society.  Somebody who believes that their version of the “truth” on an issue — be it Gay Marriage, Abortion, Religion, or any other controversial societal issue — is absolutely correct and correct enough to be forced upon society at large is, in a sense, trying to rape society.

This is a bit extreme, I admit.  But you see my point.  There are some issues which, while the raging political battlefield of the time seems to beg to differ, we don’t need to take a side on.  Anything that doesn’t affect society or others, specifically things which are hinged upon a specific and non-universal moral code, should not be ruled by law.  The simple fact that we’ve thrust upon ourselves the responsibility of ruling does not give us the right to rule absolutely.

Transmission Troubles

Posted August 29, 2009 by Jeff
Categories: Uncategorized

Tags: ,

I’ve been posting a bunch of serious stuff lately.  I’ve realized that my blog is pretty new and I want to attract readers before I drive them away.  So here’s something that we can all relate to: Car Troubles.

I drive a 10-year old Dodge Grand Caravan, lovingly nicknamed “The Shed” by it’s previous owners.  On Monday, I was driving somewhere when the “Check Engine” Light came on.  I wasn’t worried at the time.  On my way home a few hours later, I became worried because The Shed was griding gears and running roughly double it’s normal RPMs (I think it peaked at 4.5kRPM, despite my ginger driving) when I tried to go over 40 MPH.  I noticed that it only seemed to change to first and second gears, which led me to think that The Shed was suffering from transmission trouble.  When I got home, I noticed a puddle under the pavement where I had parked.  A check of the transmission fluid showed that it was practically empty.  That wasn’t good.

So I went to Wal-Mart, which happened to be the only place open at the time that sold transmission fluid, bought a few bottles and poured one into the appropriate spot.  I drove it around a 5-minute loop from my house, hoping that the new fluid would “lube up” the transmission and all would be well.  No such luck.  I had to get to work the next day, so I did what any self-respecting hacker would do: I threw a spare bottle of transmission fluid in the back seat and drove to work the next morning without leaving second gear.

That was Tuesday.  On Wednesday, with the situation not magically resolving itself (which, in retrospect, it never does), I took the car to an Aamco and carpooled the rest of the way to work.  The guy who took The Shed said that he owned another ’99 Caravan and had about twice as many miles on his.  He suspected a sensor malfunction had put the transmission into “limp mode,” a sort of safe mode to protect it from damage by limiting the car to second gear.  By midmorning they had discovered that a sensor had indeed overheated and burned out and suspected that replacing it would fix my problems.  By lunchtime they reported that replacing the sensor had indeed fixed the problem, but my transmission was still leaking fluid and would overheat and blow the new sensor if the leak wasn’t fixed.  I gave them the go-ahead to fix the leak.  Around 4:00, they called to say that it was all ready to go.  At 5:15, I was happily driving The Shed back home.  Thanks to Bill at Aamco who was able to fix it in less time (one day) and for less money (under $1k) than I had thought possible.  Viveat Shed!

Certainty

Posted August 20, 2009 by Jeff
Categories: Debate, Religion

Tags: , , , ,

On my previous post about the falsehoods of Pascal’s Wager, some anonymous user (who I assume I know in real life since I’ve promoted my new blog via facebook), wrote this comment:

Science cannot prove anything to an absolute certainty, only point strongly in the direction that something is most probably most correct at explaining a (set of) phenomenon.

A pretty clear example of this would be astronomy/astrophysics as we see a movement away from geocentricity towards heliocentricity. This of course was supplanted by elliptical orbits, newton’s laws, and now relativity. Each new theory proved to be more adept at predicting the path of heavenly bodies, supplanting the previous ones as the most probable explanation of how—-

Ignore that.
I don’t feel like finishing my reply. Try to guess at what I wanted to say.

Now many diehard science-believers would take offense at this.  “Science is the ultimate truth! Blah! Blah! Let’s go make fun of religion!”

But whoever this anonymous poster is has a valid point.  Sort of.

What is absolute certainty?  For some, to be absolutely sure of something all that is needed is someone telling you that it is true.  When a kindergarten teacher reveals the shocking truth that the world is round (actually technically it’s not perfectly round, either), some of the kids in that class are absolutely convinced 10 years later that this is true just because the person who knew the most in the world, a teacher, told them it was.  We tend to grow out of this to an extent, some more so than others, but there are, for most people, a few individuals who speak the unadulterated truth always.

Some need something that they can see with their own eyes.  A brick and a light bulb fall at the same rate, despite the massive difference in density.  A steel can will implode if you boil water in it and then cork it before the steam condenses (this is really cool).

And finally, some need things that they can prove.  Taking the derivative of position with respect to time really does give a velocity function.  The derivative of a quadratic function really is a straight line.

But all three of these systems have inherent flaws.  You may believe people, but people lie.  People have misinformation.  People say one thing and mean another.

You may believe in your own senses.  But then explain why dreams feel as real as reality.  Explain optical illusions.  Sometimes your senses lie as well.

Believing in proof is not bad, but eventually this “belief” is just one that boils down to one of the above two.  You can construct a mathematical proof of most anything nowadays, but each proof is based ultimately either on postulates, which are statements that are based on observations (which could be faulty) and are “commonly believed to be true”.

My point in this elaborate buildup is that NOTHING can prove ANYTHING absolutely.  Eventually you have to realize that whatever you take as truth could be tainted by assumption and error.  You assume I, Jeff, wrote this article because it’s absolutely loony and posted on my blog.  But what if my blog got hacked? What if I’ve been replaced with a stunt double?  What if somebody secretly taped an article to your screen when you blinked? (You can test the last one, by the way, by scrolling up and down.)  Eventually you have to assume that because these things have a very low chance of happening, they probably aren’t the case.  But you can never be certain.

And any observation can be taken with this grain of salt.  Look at the wall in front of you, or out the nearest window?  What color is it?  Are you sure?  What if the light is hitting the wall in a strange way?  What if the sky is actually turning red because the sun has prematurely engulfed the earth but you’ve developed a neurotic condition that causes you to see red as blue, another condition that kills your ability to sense temperature, and deafness that lets you block out the screams of the human race in it’s final throes of life?

Even someone who claims not to believe in anything (“If I turn around and can’t see you and can’t otherwise sense you, you aren’t there!”) is relying on their own senses.  Unless they have replaced their declarative mood with a perpetual subjunctive, they are placing faith in their observations and knowledge.

Eventually, you have to accept that whatever you believe to be true might, even if it is unlikely given your experiences, be false.  Nobody can be absolutely certain of anything.  The debate over Science vs. Religion is not a question of whether faith is valid, it’s a question of how much faith is valid and in what this faith should be.

So as you live your day to day life, remember that everything is based on a set of observations and common knowledge.  Nobody can ever be absolutely certain of anything.  I think.

Pascal’s Folly: An Addendum to Pascal’s Wager

Posted August 18, 2009 by Jeff
Categories: Debate, Religion

Tags: , , ,

Many people, especially those who like to debate the existence of a higher power (“God”), are familiar with Pascal’s wager.  It basically states the following in an attempt to logically convince people that there’s no disadvantage to living a religious life:

God Exists God Doesn’t Exist
Religious Life Eternal happiness Nothing Happens
Non-Religious Life Eternal suffering Nothing Happens

And at first and second glance, it seems a pretty convincing argument. But as you begin to take a more global, historical perspective, this begins to smell fishy. Pascal assumed that a benevolent, omniscient God was equally as likely as no higher power. But what if neither is true? This begins to add columns to the table. What if there IS a higher power, but said higher power rewards people who have led evil lives? This is, according to Pascal, equally likely. So the neat box becomes this:

God Exists God Doesn’t Exist Evil God Exists
Religious Life Eternal happiness Nothing Happens Eternal suffering
Non-Religious Life Eternal suffering Nothing Happens It depends
Evil Life Eternal Suffering Nothing Happens Eternal Happiness

This immediately negates Pascal’s wager and is a form of what is sometimes called the “Atheist’s Wager.” But it doesn’t stop there.  All possibilities are equally likely, right?

Most religious texts and non-religious philosophies agree that a person should be productive and produce good things for his or her society.  But be careful, don’t be too good and pull an Arachne! If you boast that you’ve done something as well as a god might have, you’ll get turned into a spider! What if the final judgment is performed by a giant, omnipotent version of the stereotypical college math professor? Only those who remember how to integrate arbitrary trigonometric functions will get eternal bliss!

And you can keep adding to the table, growing it into infinity.  Eventually, with some fuzzy math involving infinite improbabilities, you arrive exactly where you were before you ever heard of Pascal’s wager: utterly clueless.

While we can’t at present prove anything about any higher power’s existence or lack thereof (the subject of much debate and another blog post. Before you start whining, note that I haven’t taken a side here), we can definitively say that we don’t know anything about how to live our lives in relation to said higher power.

So in closing, go do whatever you were doing for whatever reason you were doing it.  I’m not (at present) trying to convince you of anything except that Pascal’s wager is a nice, simplified, horridly inaccurate way of describing life.

Edit: In no way am I suggesting that you go out and live a life of evil villainy. For whatever reason you choose, be good.

Falling in Love (With an Editor)

Posted August 18, 2009 by Jeff
Categories: Software

Tags: ,

So today I fell in love.  More specifically, I fell in love with the program Vim.  I have been a vim user for a little over a year, when I finally learned the basics and switched from nano. I knew Vim had more features than I could possibly imagine, but today that feeling doubled. One of the key features that I hadn’t yet gotten around to learning was how vim handles multiple files. One of the reasons I still occasionally fired up something like Kate or used the pointer was copying large chunks of text from one file to another.

Enter Vim’s Windowing system.

I learned about vim’s windowing system from this fabulous vim tutorial.  Here’s a brief summary of the windowing section

:split and :vsplit open new windows.  You can split as many times as you want in as many directions as you want.

^W (ctrl+w) and left/right/up/down/h/j/k/l moves between windows.  Keep in mind you must be in command mode (standard mode, hit escape a few times).  When you initially split a window, it will be two clones of the buffer (file) you were editing.  Simply move to that window and use :e filename to open the other file you want to edit.  Don’t know it’s name?  Use :e . to open the current directory in the file browser.  Navigation and selection is intuitive.  When you’re done, just :wq (or :q or ZZ or :q!, whatever you want) to close the window, and the remaining windows fill the space.  Magic.

Not in the tutorial linked above but still useful are the commands to set the window sizes.  Simply use :set wiw=# (window width) or :set wh=# (window height) where # is a number of rows or columns.  If the number you give isn’t absurd, vim will resize your window accordingly.

As I said, I love Vim.


Follow

Get every new post delivered to your Inbox.