Last week was great. I got up early each day and did homework in the morning. I got all my Friday homework done Wednesday night, and Thursday morning I was astonished to find that I finished 80% of the chemistry problem set in just a couple of hours. After class I understood how to do the remaining two problems. I was quite happy with this state of events because I knew I'd be getting topics for two papers this weekend.
Friday things started to crack a little bit. I found an issue with my chemistry problems, which I corrected fairly easily, but it unsettled me. I got not one topic from humanities, but five. I tried to work on it, but found it hard to pick a topic. The philosophy topic came Saturday, and was much easier to pick (between two) and looks like an easier task to write. I put in my hours over the weekend that I'd planned to, trying to draft the papers, but the ideas just weren't flowing. I kept brainstorming on Sappho and Pandora, my two tentative favorite topics, but I just couldn't get more than about a paragraph of connections out of either one. Then I read the Herodotus for today, and I think I may prefer the topic based on that overall. I got up this morning and started plinking away on identity theory and dualism, which is going better now, but in the morning, it seemed like again I didn't have nearly 1500 words to say about it.
Still, I feel a bit "tumbled." My intentions and my willpower are still good, but my mojo seems to be off a little bit. This is what I don't like about papers: I'm dependent, so to speak, on the Muses. With science, a problem might be more difficult than expected, but as long as I put in the time and go to office hours if needed, I can be pretty sure it will get done. When I write, I'm always worried that despite my best efforts, I won't come up with anything at all.
Monday, September 28, 2009
Wednesday, September 23, 2009
Physics
Today we went over circular motion and I realized a couple of things:
- "Need for speed" is a misleading phrase. Speeding up is exhilarating, yes, but for the same reason I always wanted to ride on the outside of the merry-go-round as a kid: it's the g's, man, the g's. Speeding along at constant velocity has no thrill; it's a "need for acceleration."
- When you talk about centrifugal force, all you're doing is using a non-inertial reference frame. This means you can't apply Newton's laws to it and it's therefore kind of useless as a physics concept, but speaking relative to the edge of the circle, it does make a certain kind of sense to talk about centrifugal force.
(Note: xkcd tackles this issue here: http://www.xkcd.com/123/ . But I'm pretty sure you CAN'T use Newton's laws in a rotating system because of the inertial reference frame thing. Then again maybe that's the geeky joke secondary to the Bond punchline... Note 2: What the dude will actually be crushed by is the normal force.)
- "Need for speed" is a misleading phrase. Speeding up is exhilarating, yes, but for the same reason I always wanted to ride on the outside of the merry-go-round as a kid: it's the g's, man, the g's. Speeding along at constant velocity has no thrill; it's a "need for acceleration."
- When you talk about centrifugal force, all you're doing is using a non-inertial reference frame. This means you can't apply Newton's laws to it and it's therefore kind of useless as a physics concept, but speaking relative to the edge of the circle, it does make a certain kind of sense to talk about centrifugal force.
(Note: xkcd tackles this issue here: http://www.xkcd.com/123/ . But I'm pretty sure you CAN'T use Newton's laws in a rotating system because of the inertial reference frame thing. Then again maybe that's the geeky joke secondary to the Bond punchline... Note 2: What the dude will actually be crushed by is the normal force.)
Schrodinger's cat in the hat
I worked in the third biology lab today and it was a little further down the hall than the others, so I took a different staircase down, in the physics building (they're connected on the top floors), and saw this:
I took the picture with my phone, so it's crappy resolution, but hopefully it's clear that the figure in the lower right is a cat-in-a-hat. There's a whole line of cats in hats walking up the hill and into that contraption in the middle. And if the resolution were better, you'd be able to see that the contraption is spitting out equations on the piece of paper and has two lights - one labeled "alive" and one labeled "dead".
Here's one of the more beautiful images I've seen this week:
It doesn't have any specific significance, but I thought it was extremely pretty, and since it came from a humanities lecture given by my conference leader it can stand in for things related to him and that class. I had my paper conference today, and he liked my paper. He said I made "intelligent use" of the editing feedback I got, and his main suggestion was to develop certain interesting ideas more. Today's lecture was also awesome. I think today's lecture is tied with the second one (the one about oral traditions) for my favorite. The guy talked about the nature of first-person perspective in Greek lyric poetry, and how it differs from what we expect from first-person perspective in modern poetry. His main thesis was that the first person in Greek lyric is for the benefit of the reader, or rather speaker, and that it is meant to represent not necessarily the perspective of the poet, but an identity for those who reiterate the lyric to "try on."
Like the octopus vase, I find Sappho's poetry very aesthetically compelling.
This weekend I'm going to get a new Hum paper topic and a Phil paper topic. I only get one week for the philosophy paper, but then again, I expect it to be more straightforward. It pretty much has to be on dualism or behaviorism - maybe identity theory - and I can discuss the hell out of those. I don't have to interpret nearly as hard.
I took the picture with my phone, so it's crappy resolution, but hopefully it's clear that the figure in the lower right is a cat-in-a-hat. There's a whole line of cats in hats walking up the hill and into that contraption in the middle. And if the resolution were better, you'd be able to see that the contraption is spitting out equations on the piece of paper and has two lights - one labeled "alive" and one labeled "dead".Here's one of the more beautiful images I've seen this week:
It doesn't have any specific significance, but I thought it was extremely pretty, and since it came from a humanities lecture given by my conference leader it can stand in for things related to him and that class. I had my paper conference today, and he liked my paper. He said I made "intelligent use" of the editing feedback I got, and his main suggestion was to develop certain interesting ideas more. Today's lecture was also awesome. I think today's lecture is tied with the second one (the one about oral traditions) for my favorite. The guy talked about the nature of first-person perspective in Greek lyric poetry, and how it differs from what we expect from first-person perspective in modern poetry. His main thesis was that the first person in Greek lyric is for the benefit of the reader, or rather speaker, and that it is meant to represent not necessarily the perspective of the poet, but an identity for those who reiterate the lyric to "try on."
Like the octopus vase, I find Sappho's poetry very aesthetically compelling.
This weekend I'm going to get a new Hum paper topic and a Phil paper topic. I only get one week for the philosophy paper, but then again, I expect it to be more straightforward. It pretty much has to be on dualism or behaviorism - maybe identity theory - and I can discuss the hell out of those. I don't have to interpret nearly as hard.
Monday, September 21, 2009
Mornings
Ever since last Tuesday when some homework took way longer than expected and I had to get up at 5:30 to finish it on time, I've been getting up relatively early in the morning (6-7). I like it. I think I objectively get more homework done, too, because my productivity tapers off at about the same time at night regardless.
I'm getting into a routine of trying to be 2 days ahead on most things at a given time. Friday I use the afternoon to power through a lot, and try to be caught up through Tuesday by the end of the weekend. Invariably a couple problems from Chem 230 have to wait until office hours on Monday, but then I spend Monday doing anything that's left and start my physics problems or humanities reading for Wednesday. Continue on Tuesday. Wednesday night I try to finish up through Friday's dues, so I have Thursday evening to relax.
Chem is really hard, the problem sets take a long time. Physics keeps me on my toes - the problems are fairly few and not too difficult, but due every lecture. Humanities is the most awesome class-on-everything, and philosophy seems to be seeping into my brain despite my regular dissatisfaction with the class.
I'm getting into a routine of trying to be 2 days ahead on most things at a given time. Friday I use the afternoon to power through a lot, and try to be caught up through Tuesday by the end of the weekend. Invariably a couple problems from Chem 230 have to wait until office hours on Monday, but then I spend Monday doing anything that's left and start my physics problems or humanities reading for Wednesday. Continue on Tuesday. Wednesday night I try to finish up through Friday's dues, so I have Thursday evening to relax.
Chem is really hard, the problem sets take a long time. Physics keeps me on my toes - the problems are fairly few and not too difficult, but due every lecture. Humanities is the most awesome class-on-everything, and philosophy seems to be seeping into my brain despite my regular dissatisfaction with the class.
Thursday, September 17, 2009
My last couple days
I finished the "tight draft" of my Hum paper on Sunday. I took it to the DoJo, the academic resource center, and the writing tutor slammed into it like an OH radical. He basically said the writing was fine, but I wrote a philosophical paper instead of a close-reading literary analysis. I was like, what am I supposed to do with that? He said talk to my conference leader, but he thought I was kind of on the wrong track.
Philosopher-Linguist gave me a more charitable analysis. He assumed I actually was doing the assignment and arguing from the text, and said I needed to make the connection to the text more explicit.
I started restructuring the essay and adding quotes early this morning. After conference I asked my conference leader about it. He said turn in the original paper and the revised version so he could tell what I lost and gained in the editing (one of my concerns) and see if he agreed with the DoJo guy. I spent my morning break mostly in the library finishing up my revision. I'll get Philosopher-Linguist's comments on it and do another revision if necessary tomorrow
I hung out with LS this evening and it was fun. I hope this foreshadows smoother waters.
My computer clock did a weird thing today. Around 12:30, it suddenly jumped an hour forward. I had a class at 1:10 so I was really perplexed for a moment. Then I forgot about it and later was going to bed because it was almost eleven, only to have it change back - it's only about 10:30 even now.
Philosopher-Linguist gave me a more charitable analysis. He assumed I actually was doing the assignment and arguing from the text, and said I needed to make the connection to the text more explicit.
I started restructuring the essay and adding quotes early this morning. After conference I asked my conference leader about it. He said turn in the original paper and the revised version so he could tell what I lost and gained in the editing (one of my concerns) and see if he agreed with the DoJo guy. I spent my morning break mostly in the library finishing up my revision. I'll get Philosopher-Linguist's comments on it and do another revision if necessary tomorrow
I hung out with LS this evening and it was fun. I hope this foreshadows smoother waters.
My computer clock did a weird thing today. Around 12:30, it suddenly jumped an hour forward. I had a class at 1:10 so I was really perplexed for a moment. Then I forgot about it and later was going to bed because it was almost eleven, only to have it change back - it's only about 10:30 even now.
Wednesday, September 16, 2009
Wise teeth, wise choices?
One of my wisdom teeth is officially coming in. I was getting frustrated by a little flap of my gum that always felt like it had food stuck in it and got sore when I would try to clear it out. Then I counted my teeth, and sure enough, it's the eighth one back. I looked at it in the mirror and it's a lot more embedded, too.
Now that the health insurance is worked out, I should go to a dentist, because I know wisdom teeth sometimes have to be pulled and I already have teeth out of line, plus I can't imagine I'm cavity-free after the last ten years.
A week or two ago, Reed put a bunch of hand sanitizer in the dining hall, in front of the salad bar and in front of the silverware. I raised my eyebrow a little at that, but it's probably a good idea. Tons of people touch that stuff. This is too much though: a little bottle of Purell in my mailbox. I'm almost sure this is a swine flu reaction, and I'm skeptical whether ethanol even works against flu viruses. It depends on if they have a membrane, I believe, but it's only guaranteed against cellular microbes. I hope the people behind this have done their research.
Now that the health insurance is worked out, I should go to a dentist, because I know wisdom teeth sometimes have to be pulled and I already have teeth out of line, plus I can't imagine I'm cavity-free after the last ten years.
A week or two ago, Reed put a bunch of hand sanitizer in the dining hall, in front of the salad bar and in front of the silverware. I raised my eyebrow a little at that, but it's probably a good idea. Tons of people touch that stuff. This is too much though: a little bottle of Purell in my mailbox. I'm almost sure this is a swine flu reaction, and I'm skeptical whether ethanol even works against flu viruses. It depends on if they have a membrane, I believe, but it's only guaranteed against cellular microbes. I hope the people behind this have done their research.
Sunday, September 13, 2009
Writing papers
We're right in the middle of the two weeks we get to write our first paper. And it's really funny to talk to various people about papers and see the completely different ways people approach it.
First, my dad. I asked him about paper length when a maximum rather than a minimum is given, and embedded in his response was this insight into organization: "The best strategy I've found is to choose a topic that interests you, subdivide it, figure a paragraph for each subdivision, add two paragraphs for intro and conclusion, count up the paragraphs (usu. about 3-4 a page) and see how many pages that comes out to. If it's too many, or if the subdivisions are logicially further divisible, maybe do the paper on a subtopic instead." Wow dad. That's really regimented.
Lost Rocket's process seems to be similar. I ran into her yesterday and I told her I had a draft, but one in need of some serious first-pass editing before I would give it to anyone else to look at. "Ugh," she responded, "I don't even have an outline." I never use outlines. Whenever I try to outline a paper first, I inevitably find that at least one of my bullet points I actually have hardly anything to say about, and then the whole structure falls apart.
Senor Evergreen, whom I hung out with one last time before he went up to Olympia, has a radically different strategy. "When I have to write a paper," he says dramatically, "I just sit down and... write a paper." I chuckled in recognition. That's what I used to do in high school, but the papers I produce when I do that aren't long enough for college assignments.
Apparently it works for some, however, because my floor had breakfast together this morning and several of my dormies were discussing the paper too - specifically, when they were going to work on it. "I'm not going to do it on Friday," one of them said. "Well maybe," he continued. "I only have two classes in the morning, so I could do it before everyone gets out of class." Should I infer that this person means to write it all in one session? He must find paper-writing really easy.
My friend the philosopher-linguist suggested something that resonates with me a little more. "Writing is like having a conversation with the page," he said. "You almost want to anticipate - not objections exactly - but responses from a reader."
The approach I've used for this paper went like this: I discarded the eerily prevalent (and in my opinion, completely fallacious) claim that you need a strong introduction to know where you're going. I opened up a blank document and just started writing whatever occurred to me about the topic. When a new point occurred to me, I made a line break and started a new paragraph. I developed several trains of thought at once, bouncing between the paragraphs on my screen, and my use of language became less conversational and more literary as I worked. When I got pooped, I left it alone and came back later until the flow of ideas was just about wrapping up. Then I looked over what I had written and assessed how everything connected. I pulled a thesis out of it and wrote an introduction. Then I started putting paragraphs in a logical order, trimming redundant information that had turned up in more than one place, and creating transitions. Some paragraphs didn't get used at all. Finally I got to the end, reviewed my work, and constructed my conclusion so as to pull everything back together. Now there is a draft and I'm just refining the flow.
First, my dad. I asked him about paper length when a maximum rather than a minimum is given, and embedded in his response was this insight into organization: "The best strategy I've found is to choose a topic that interests you, subdivide it, figure a paragraph for each subdivision, add two paragraphs for intro and conclusion, count up the paragraphs (usu. about 3-4 a page) and see how many pages that comes out to. If it's too many, or if the subdivisions are logicially further divisible, maybe do the paper on a subtopic instead." Wow dad. That's really regimented.
Lost Rocket's process seems to be similar. I ran into her yesterday and I told her I had a draft, but one in need of some serious first-pass editing before I would give it to anyone else to look at. "Ugh," she responded, "I don't even have an outline." I never use outlines. Whenever I try to outline a paper first, I inevitably find that at least one of my bullet points I actually have hardly anything to say about, and then the whole structure falls apart.
Senor Evergreen, whom I hung out with one last time before he went up to Olympia, has a radically different strategy. "When I have to write a paper," he says dramatically, "I just sit down and... write a paper." I chuckled in recognition. That's what I used to do in high school, but the papers I produce when I do that aren't long enough for college assignments.
Apparently it works for some, however, because my floor had breakfast together this morning and several of my dormies were discussing the paper too - specifically, when they were going to work on it. "I'm not going to do it on Friday," one of them said. "Well maybe," he continued. "I only have two classes in the morning, so I could do it before everyone gets out of class." Should I infer that this person means to write it all in one session? He must find paper-writing really easy.
My friend the philosopher-linguist suggested something that resonates with me a little more. "Writing is like having a conversation with the page," he said. "You almost want to anticipate - not objections exactly - but responses from a reader."
The approach I've used for this paper went like this: I discarded the eerily prevalent (and in my opinion, completely fallacious) claim that you need a strong introduction to know where you're going. I opened up a blank document and just started writing whatever occurred to me about the topic. When a new point occurred to me, I made a line break and started a new paragraph. I developed several trains of thought at once, bouncing between the paragraphs on my screen, and my use of language became less conversational and more literary as I worked. When I got pooped, I left it alone and came back later until the flow of ideas was just about wrapping up. Then I looked over what I had written and assessed how everything connected. I pulled a thesis out of it and wrote an introduction. Then I started putting paragraphs in a logical order, trimming redundant information that had turned up in more than one place, and creating transitions. Some paragraphs didn't get used at all. Finally I got to the end, reviewed my work, and constructed my conclusion so as to pull everything back together. Now there is a draft and I'm just refining the flow.
Saturday, September 12, 2009
Good things
I think my new favorite musical piece is the Moonlight Sonata, movement 3. That's not the soft one with the triplets that everyone knows; it's an anxious, roiling piece. But it is pretty popular - you've probably heard it - and though it's not nearly as recognizable as the Moonlight Sonata as the first movement, it did make sense when I learned it was part of the same piece.
I wish I could find those CDs of Beethoven's symphonies that I got when I was eight or so.
I got my refund check and now I have MONEY! I bought some breakfast groceries and I'll pay off my bookstore account tomorrow or Monday.
I didn't drop philosophy.
I wish I could find those CDs of Beethoven's symphonies that I got when I was eight or so.
I got my refund check and now I have MONEY! I bought some breakfast groceries and I'll pay off my bookstore account tomorrow or Monday.
I didn't drop philosophy.
Wednesday, September 9, 2009
To drop or not to drop
So I wasn't very impressed with my philosophy class but I thought... hey, I'll still read some cool old material and write papers. Then, I got further frustrated with my discussion and a particularly tedious assignment. I combed the catalog and found that I could maybe switch into sociology, but they wouldn't let me in. No other classes! Well here are my options now...
1. Drop philosophy
2. Drop both philosophy and chem 230 and add another class
3. Drop philosophy, change my hum conference and add another class
4. Keep my current schedule
While options 2 and 3 are technically still possible, they are not really feasible, since I don't want to compromise anything else in my schedule and plopping into a new class two weeks in would be hard. The question has become fairly simple - to drop or not to drop.
To drop: I would only have 3.0 units this semester. This isn't inherently a bad thing - it still counts as full-time and there are worthwhile things I could do with the extra time, for example volunteer at MLC. But since tuition is the same however many units I take, something seems wrong with taking so few classes. And I won't get a chance to take any group A or B classes next year (I will be booked with chem-phys-bio-math), so I might be committing myself to either satisfying a group requirement elsewhere during a summer or putting it off until senior year.
Not to drop: I would keep 4.0 units, but I would have to take this class. There's an obvious question of, is the extra unit worth having if it's a class I don't enjoy? The other thing is that it commits me to taking another philosophy class to fill out my group A requirement, which is what I thought I wanted to do, but if this philosophy class isn't working for me how can I be sure another one will be better? Maybe I don't mesh with the Reed phil department, or it could even be that I just don't really like to study philosophy and my class at UO was an exception.
I talked to my advisor about it and he thinks that either option is reasonable. I also talked to my philosophy professor earlier in the day, but it wasn't very helpful one way or another. I have the class tomorrow so I will go in and give it one more chance. I need to decide by Friday what I'm doing. Technically the drop deadline isn't for a while, but I don't know how much longer I can get a full refund for my books and I just don't want to drag this out any further.
1. Drop philosophy
2. Drop both philosophy and chem 230 and add another class
3. Drop philosophy, change my hum conference and add another class
4. Keep my current schedule
While options 2 and 3 are technically still possible, they are not really feasible, since I don't want to compromise anything else in my schedule and plopping into a new class two weeks in would be hard. The question has become fairly simple - to drop or not to drop.
To drop: I would only have 3.0 units this semester. This isn't inherently a bad thing - it still counts as full-time and there are worthwhile things I could do with the extra time, for example volunteer at MLC. But since tuition is the same however many units I take, something seems wrong with taking so few classes. And I won't get a chance to take any group A or B classes next year (I will be booked with chem-phys-bio-math), so I might be committing myself to either satisfying a group requirement elsewhere during a summer or putting it off until senior year.
Not to drop: I would keep 4.0 units, but I would have to take this class. There's an obvious question of, is the extra unit worth having if it's a class I don't enjoy? The other thing is that it commits me to taking another philosophy class to fill out my group A requirement, which is what I thought I wanted to do, but if this philosophy class isn't working for me how can I be sure another one will be better? Maybe I don't mesh with the Reed phil department, or it could even be that I just don't really like to study philosophy and my class at UO was an exception.
I talked to my advisor about it and he thinks that either option is reasonable. I also talked to my philosophy professor earlier in the day, but it wasn't very helpful one way or another. I have the class tomorrow so I will go in and give it one more chance. I need to decide by Friday what I'm doing. Technically the drop deadline isn't for a while, but I don't know how much longer I can get a full refund for my books and I just don't want to drag this out any further.
Sunday, September 6, 2009
Portland is a goddamn tease
I hate Portland.
No, no, I love Portland, but it drives me up the wall with its weather. I suppose I should simply be happy that it rained enough to speak of three days in a row and it's only September. But I really wish that when it's pouring and splattering and making a big ol' rainy mess outside, that it would KEEP doing that for long enough to change into my running clothes, finish my chapter, or whatever it is I need to do before going out. I see and hear the rain, I say "mmm that looks so fun" and I bolt for my room because I know it's liable to be fleeting but I hurry up and change into sweats hoping to go exercise and get soaked... and by the time I get out the door, it's down to a mere sprinkle. As usual. Why do I even try?
No, no, I love Portland, but it drives me up the wall with its weather. I suppose I should simply be happy that it rained enough to speak of three days in a row and it's only September. But I really wish that when it's pouring and splattering and making a big ol' rainy mess outside, that it would KEEP doing that for long enough to change into my running clothes, finish my chapter, or whatever it is I need to do before going out. I see and hear the rain, I say "mmm that looks so fun" and I bolt for my room because I know it's liable to be fleeting but I hurry up and change into sweats hoping to go exercise and get soaked... and by the time I get out the door, it's down to a mere sprinkle. As usual. Why do I even try?
Saturday, September 5, 2009
Yep, this is bad
Okay, so we all knew oil was running out, but...
"Locate reliable current data on global petroleum reserves and consumption rate. Report these numbers and cite your source. Under the assumption that this resource is used at a constant rate, calculate the lifetime of Earth's petroleum resources."
I went and found some numbers from the Department of Energy. Reserves were reported in billions of barrels, and consumption was reported in thousands of barrels per day. I crunched them up and got...
About fifteen thousand days. I once calculated the remainder of my lifespan at something like twenty thousand, conservatively. Uh oh. Divide by 365, and we've got 42 years - and that's at today's rates.
We should all learn subsistence farming right now because in a few decades anyone who doesn't know how to live off the sun is fucked.
"Locate reliable current data on global petroleum reserves and consumption rate. Report these numbers and cite your source. Under the assumption that this resource is used at a constant rate, calculate the lifetime of Earth's petroleum resources."
I went and found some numbers from the Department of Energy. Reserves were reported in billions of barrels, and consumption was reported in thousands of barrels per day. I crunched them up and got...
About fifteen thousand days. I once calculated the remainder of my lifespan at something like twenty thousand, conservatively. Uh oh. Divide by 365, and we've got 42 years - and that's at today's rates.
We should all learn subsistence farming right now because in a few decades anyone who doesn't know how to live off the sun is fucked.
Friday, September 4, 2009
Food
Commons has some really good deals and some really lame ones. Among the love:
- a bowl of beans and rice with salsa and sour cream = $1.85
- salad bar ranges from something like $2 for a "small" salad to $4.25 for a large, which is defined by what I would guess is an 8 or 9 inch plate. You can pile a lot of veggies, and tofu and beans and pasta salads, onto that.
But as I sat today eating breakfast - an egg, a bowl of oatmeal, and a cup of coffee - I realized it's simply ridiculous to eat at Commons for that. It cost me $3.20. Now that's not bad - my board plan allows a daily average of $13.25 - but when you compare it to real world pricing it's preposterous. For the price of one egg at Commons, I can get six eggs at Fred Meyer with 20c to spare. The superior steel-cut oatmeal I already have MIGHT have cost the same as today's breakfast for a whole pound. And even coffee must be going at a 5-fold markup. Once I have real-world money, there are certain things I will definitely be buying outside the board plan. Eggs, milk, and coffee are among them.
- a bowl of beans and rice with salsa and sour cream = $1.85
- salad bar ranges from something like $2 for a "small" salad to $4.25 for a large, which is defined by what I would guess is an 8 or 9 inch plate. You can pile a lot of veggies, and tofu and beans and pasta salads, onto that.
But as I sat today eating breakfast - an egg, a bowl of oatmeal, and a cup of coffee - I realized it's simply ridiculous to eat at Commons for that. It cost me $3.20. Now that's not bad - my board plan allows a daily average of $13.25 - but when you compare it to real world pricing it's preposterous. For the price of one egg at Commons, I can get six eggs at Fred Meyer with 20c to spare. The superior steel-cut oatmeal I already have MIGHT have cost the same as today's breakfast for a whole pound. And even coffee must be going at a 5-fold markup. Once I have real-world money, there are certain things I will definitely be buying outside the board plan. Eggs, milk, and coffee are among them.
Thursday, September 3, 2009
Trippiest bathroom in the world
So I walked out of Hum conference in the library this morning and walked downstairs following signs to the bathroom.
First thing I noticed was "whoa, everything is really really colorful."
Second thing I noticed, I walked into the big stall and there were two toilets in it. Comic-style question mark appears above my head as I sit down on one of them.
Then as I'm sitting there I look down at the floor and notice it's green-and-white checkered, and the diagonals form these optical "lines" suggesting harsh orthogonal movement.
Walking out of the stall I realize that the indiscriminate colorfulness I recognized initially is in fact a series of murals depicting Dr. Seuss characters. As I wash my hands I take a minute to look about me and appreciate the sheer bizarreness of my surroundings. Woe betide the Reedie who is anything but sober the first time they walk into this bathroom!
First thing I noticed was "whoa, everything is really really colorful."
Second thing I noticed, I walked into the big stall and there were two toilets in it. Comic-style question mark appears above my head as I sit down on one of them.
Then as I'm sitting there I look down at the floor and notice it's green-and-white checkered, and the diagonals form these optical "lines" suggesting harsh orthogonal movement.
Walking out of the stall I realize that the indiscriminate colorfulness I recognized initially is in fact a series of murals depicting Dr. Seuss characters. As I wash my hands I take a minute to look about me and appreciate the sheer bizarreness of my surroundings. Woe betide the Reedie who is anything but sober the first time they walk into this bathroom!
Wednesday, September 2, 2009
A few more tidbits about how stuff is going
I just got offered the job I applied for in the biology department. Looks like I'll wash dishes for about 4 hours a week.
Chem 230 yesterday was weird. Hum and physics are full of freshmen who are frantically trying to build a web of community but don't actually have one yet. I walked into chem and after a few minutes listening to conversation around me realized "hey, most of these people are juniors and all of them know each other."
Phil 206 didn't impress me that much. I like my professor, and there's another argumentative chemistry major in the class. But the class is too big, and there are some people who seem to favor skepticism for its own sake too much, i.e. to the point of ignoring the obvious. The professor gave an overview of what we will cover, and none of the topics he brought up seemed very challenging or even unfamiliar to me. I thought about trying to take a different class, but I don't think I will, for the following reasons:
1. I can't find anything I like that wouldn't require juggling the conferences or labs of my other classes.
2. I don't really believe Reed College will teach a class so basic it's uninteresting.
3. There are papers, which means even if the content is boring, I can hone my critical skills on it.
Chem 230 yesterday was weird. Hum and physics are full of freshmen who are frantically trying to build a web of community but don't actually have one yet. I walked into chem and after a few minutes listening to conversation around me realized "hey, most of these people are juniors and all of them know each other."
Phil 206 didn't impress me that much. I like my professor, and there's another argumentative chemistry major in the class. But the class is too big, and there are some people who seem to favor skepticism for its own sake too much, i.e. to the point of ignoring the obvious. The professor gave an overview of what we will cover, and none of the topics he brought up seemed very challenging or even unfamiliar to me. I thought about trying to take a different class, but I don't think I will, for the following reasons:
1. I can't find anything I like that wouldn't require juggling the conferences or labs of my other classes.
2. I don't really believe Reed College will teach a class so basic it's uninteresting.
3. There are papers, which means even if the content is boring, I can hone my critical skills on it.
Hum lecture was intense today
The lecturer was talking about oral traditions and the differences between literate and strictly oral cultures. A theme that recurred in the discussion was the idea that literacy encourages greater abstraction and oral tradition tends toward more concrete associations. In the notes she quoted this rather long passage which I will put in small text:
Anne Carson, Eros, the Bittersweet (Princton: Princton University Press, 1986), p. 43:
"An individual who lives an an oral culture uses his senses differently than one who lives in a literate culture, and with that different sensual deployment comes a different way of conceiving his own relations with his environment, a different conception of his body and a different conception of his self. The difference revolves around the physiological and psychological phenomenon of individual self-control. Self-control is minimally stressed in an oral milieu where most of the data important for survival and understanding are channeled into the individual through the open conduits of his senses, particularly his sense of sound... A continuous fluent interchange of sensual impressions and responses between the enivronment and himself is the proper condition of his mental and physical life. To close his senses off from the outside world would be counterproductive to life and to thought.
[...] As an individual reads and writes he gradually learns to close or inhibit the input of his senses, to inhibit or control the responses of his body, so as to train energy and thought upon the written words. He resists the environment outside him by distinguishing and controlling the one inside him. This constitutes at first a laborious and painful effort..., [an effort in which the individual] becomes aware of the interior self as an entity separable from the environment and its input, controllable by his own mental action."
So she reads out this passage, and then to elucidate the "laborious and painful effort," she says something to this effect:
"Remember when you were in kindergarten? And it was so hard because you had to sit at this little desk for long periods, looking at these little black squiggles on the paper and trying to make sense of them when the whole world was out there and you just wanted to go run around in it."
For me, the sheer unrelatability of that example is what drove the point home. It's not just that I didn't go to kindergarten, and it's not just that I always enjoyed sitting at a desk studying at least as much as running around, though that's getting closer to the heart of the issue. It's that I don't even remember learning to read. I remember learning how to write, in a sense, or at least how to spell, but as far my memory is concerned I've always been literate. I do have a few memories that probably occurred before I could read, but none in which learning how or not being able to was a feature.
Now here's the oh-shit part. Everyone who knows me knows I'm a highly abstract person. I live in my head; all I do is play with ideas. This whole facet of my personality, and the coupled drive to seek out sensational intensity - is it perhaps, in large part, a product of learning to read early? It's like a smack upside the head to think that such a fundamental part of who I am and what I've chosen to do for the last 10-15 years could be primarily derived from such a stupidly simple, and somewhat chance occurrence. Still, I suppose it could be that I always had the disposition and that's why I latched onto reading quickly. Even then, though, what does it say about the culture at large? Does literacy increase the potential of a society to produce people like me? Does it increase the upper limit of abstraction possible by its members? Do illiterate societies have an advantage in sensory awareness that is lost when writing is developed? Or do both kinds of society have equal potential at the extremes, but simply a probabilistic tendency toward one end or the other?
Anne Carson, Eros, the Bittersweet (Princton: Princton University Press, 1986), p. 43:
"An individual who lives an an oral culture uses his senses differently than one who lives in a literate culture, and with that different sensual deployment comes a different way of conceiving his own relations with his environment, a different conception of his body and a different conception of his self. The difference revolves around the physiological and psychological phenomenon of individual self-control. Self-control is minimally stressed in an oral milieu where most of the data important for survival and understanding are channeled into the individual through the open conduits of his senses, particularly his sense of sound... A continuous fluent interchange of sensual impressions and responses between the enivronment and himself is the proper condition of his mental and physical life. To close his senses off from the outside world would be counterproductive to life and to thought.
[...] As an individual reads and writes he gradually learns to close or inhibit the input of his senses, to inhibit or control the responses of his body, so as to train energy and thought upon the written words. He resists the environment outside him by distinguishing and controlling the one inside him. This constitutes at first a laborious and painful effort..., [an effort in which the individual] becomes aware of the interior self as an entity separable from the environment and its input, controllable by his own mental action."
So she reads out this passage, and then to elucidate the "laborious and painful effort," she says something to this effect:
"Remember when you were in kindergarten? And it was so hard because you had to sit at this little desk for long periods, looking at these little black squiggles on the paper and trying to make sense of them when the whole world was out there and you just wanted to go run around in it."
For me, the sheer unrelatability of that example is what drove the point home. It's not just that I didn't go to kindergarten, and it's not just that I always enjoyed sitting at a desk studying at least as much as running around, though that's getting closer to the heart of the issue. It's that I don't even remember learning to read. I remember learning how to write, in a sense, or at least how to spell, but as far my memory is concerned I've always been literate. I do have a few memories that probably occurred before I could read, but none in which learning how or not being able to was a feature.
Now here's the oh-shit part. Everyone who knows me knows I'm a highly abstract person. I live in my head; all I do is play with ideas. This whole facet of my personality, and the coupled drive to seek out sensational intensity - is it perhaps, in large part, a product of learning to read early? It's like a smack upside the head to think that such a fundamental part of who I am and what I've chosen to do for the last 10-15 years could be primarily derived from such a stupidly simple, and somewhat chance occurrence. Still, I suppose it could be that I always had the disposition and that's why I latched onto reading quickly. Even then, though, what does it say about the culture at large? Does literacy increase the potential of a society to produce people like me? Does it increase the upper limit of abstraction possible by its members? Do illiterate societies have an advantage in sensory awareness that is lost when writing is developed? Or do both kinds of society have equal potential at the extremes, but simply a probabilistic tendency toward one end or the other?
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