Finally Photography

Hello. I have finally taken the time to upload a bunch of pictures that I took from sometime between the third last week in August and the second Saturday of September.

Enjoy.

Thank you Mr. Libeskind

I remember when the design of the addition to the Royal Ontario Museum, called the Lee-Chin Crystal, was first announced, early in the first decade of the third millennium. I thought it was ghastly. I dismissed my opinions as those of an uncultured buffoon. My roommate at the time agreed with me, without solicitation. That made two uncultured buffoons, I guess. Perhaps this was an architectural masterpiece, and we were just too improperly educated to appreciate it. In any case, I hoped that they would reject the design and go for something else. They didn't.

My current roommate, a graduate of the Ontario College of Art & Design, feels the same way. Hmmm, so even arts students are against it.

I've yet to meet somebody who likes the design.

In any case, it's close to the end of the decade now, and they are close to finishing the project. Lucky Toronto, they are finally getting the international attention they crave.

It's days like this...

...that I'm most proud of my heritage.

Truth in

Some time ago I was flipping through the radio stations when I happened to hear about some sort of remedy to some sort of health problem that I thought I was having at the time. I don't remember what the problem was, but I didn't like it and wanted it to stop. If I'm still suffering the same disorder, I probably still don't like it. The remedy, in any case, involved magnets. I listened intently as they talked about the benefits of magnets, as I was eager to be cured of my ails. I listened until the end (which didn't take long since I tuned in half-way through), when I was informed that this was a paid advertisement. I was let down, although not too surprised. They spoke convincingly about their supposed solution, as if this solution had actually been tested, but their claims were unusual and sounded too good to be true. If I had known from the outset that I was listening to an ad, I would have changed the station immediately.

Although it takes more effort to read a paper than it does to listen to a radio station, one advantage is that when somebody publishes an advertisement that bears the appearance of an article, the newspapers have the courtesy to write a suggestive word such as "advertisement" at the top of the page. Any claims in the middle of the page that seem to be bunkum can be verified as such simply by directing one's gaze upward, thus saving a lot of time that might otherwise have been spent reading bunkum.

This being the age of free stuff on the Internet, newspapers have taken to publishing large portions of online offerings. In doing so, however, they seem to have dispensed with the courtesy of notifying their readers that what appears to be an article is in fact an advertisement.

Festive Photo

Here

Would the honourable members please stop saying stupid things

Yesterday or the day before, HBC unveiled Canada's Olympic clothing for the upcoming Vancouver 2010 Olympics. My reaction was "Ho hum. I don't think I'll buy any," the same reaction I've had for generations of Olympic clothing. Politicians don't share my views. For example Hedy Fry, Liberal MP for Vancouver Centre, has this to say.

"Here is another embarrassing example of crass politics"

She's referring to the fact that both the Conservative Party's logo and the Olympic Hockey logo consist of a stylized C with a maple leaf in the middle. I guess she failed to notice that both Canada and Conservative start with the letter "C" and both are from Canada, whose national symbols include the maple leaf. Myself I've noticed that Liberal logos tend to be mostly red, and featuring a maple leaf, much like Olympic clothing from previous years. She goes on to say,

"Can the prime minister at least stop trying to politicize the Canadian Winter Olympics?"

I think she said "prime minister" when she meant to "Hedy Fry". There's more.

"I think the government should have said ‘I think that this is too similar, people may think that there is a similarity. They may think we are trying to advertise and therefore, we shouldn't do this. Let's find a different kind of logo,' that is what (they) should have said."

From which we extrapolate the general principal that future designers of Olympic clothing should be required to exclude any symbols or colours that are part of any federal party's logo. She concludes (I hope)

"I think the government should have said ‘I think that this is too similar, people may think that there is a similarity. They may think we are trying to advertise and therefore, we shouldn't do this. Let's find a different kind of logo,' that is what (they) should have said,"

Yeah, we'll just whip up a new batch. BRB.

Sadly, Hedy Fry is not alone. From Charlie Angus, the NDP MP for Timmins-James Bay, we get

"If Minister Lunn thinks he can go into a Tim Hortons anywhere in Canada and tell an average hockey fan that this is not the Conservative party logo, then Mr. Lunn thinks the Canadians are stupider."

Fans of other sports at Tim Horton's and hockey fans at Starbucks will not likely be able to spot the similarities. I can't speak for Mr. Lunn, but I know who I think is stupider. It's not the Canadians. With all the orange on them, it's clear the NDP was involved in the design of the Dutch Soccer (sorry "football") jerseys. I bought my coffee at Tim Horton's this morning. I'm not stupid. I see their influence all over. The team kindly requests that the NDP stop interfering.

In conclusion, thank goodness for the Conservative Party of Canada that the Toronto Maple Leafs, with their blue sweaters prominently displaying a maple leaf, actually write their name on the front of their sweaters, lest the intelligentsia at Tim's across the country uncover the horrible truth that the whole team is actually just a marketing tool for the party.

Seasons

The meteorologists tell us when the seasons begin and end. Winter is the shortest day, Summer the longest. Spring begins when days become longer than nights, and Fall the opposite. They can tell us this all they want, but we all have our own definitions. Winter begins at the first snowfall and summer when the shorts come out of storage. Spring begins when the maple trees start showing signs of life and fall began yesterday.

Pics

More.

Off to a good start

Mathematics is an easy subject to study anywhere. My brain, somewhere to write my thoughts, something to write them with, and maybe a math text or two are pretty much all I need (well, those and coffee). This and a shortage of keys to my office [1] for the first half of the summer meant that I got into a routine of working either at home or at a nearby coffee shop. By the time I finally did get my key, the routine was set. Even though I had the key, I continued to work in the same old pre-key locations.

Mathematics is not an easy subject to teach anywhere, however. You need to be in a classroom, and in multi-section courses, you need to coordinate with other profs. Today, I had a meeting with the two professors who will be teaching the other sections of one of my courses. It was the first time I had been back in almost two weeks, and the first time I actually needed the office key. After the meeting, I walked toward my office, along with one of the other professors from the meeting. I reached into my pocket for my keys, then turned to the prof beside me, and said, "It wouldn't be a start of a new school year if I didn't lock myself out of my office on my first day back." Fortunately for me, the head of the department has a master key.

Sometimes the fact that I have a PhD still seems unbelievable to me. My teachers always saw the potential in me, if their report card comments can be believed, even though my grades didn't usually reflect it. I'm now finally beginning to see what they saw. Already in grade school, I was misplacing keys at the PhD level.

[1] For security reasons (which no longer seem all that relevant), RMC recently upgraded its locks to a more secure type of lock. Among its features is the difficulty of making copies. Unless you "know a guy", it can only be done by the company who installed the locks in the first place, not at the local key shop and not at any on-site facilities, and apparently it can only be done at a snails pace.

Hearing things?

The other day, I read that "Chinese is not a phonetic language." This strange, because I could've sworn I heard people speaking Chinese just the other day.

There you are now. Be entertained.

Where's Randy been? I know you've been wondering. I've been right here, and not all that busy, and enjoying it. Most of this past year, from September until the middle of June, was busy. Although I'm too lazy to check, my recollection is that there have been a rather high number of posts explaining or apologizing for my absence than posts about other topics. Much of what I've been busy with has been writing, mainly lecture notes. Textbooks contain a great deal of information, as there are no time constraints. It's a challenge to take what the textbook says, distill the important information, and compile it into something that is both succinct, complete (or at least seems complete enough to the audience that they have no follow up questions), true, and if I'm lucky, comprehensible. Perhaps for others this comes easy, but I frequently seem to get it wrong. It feels right the first time around. In the proofreading stages, however, I repeatedly realize that what I have written is not what I thought I had and is frequently flat out wrong. So I set about trying to correct my errors, scrutinizing every word, deleting, rewriting, deleting, rewriting, yet never being quite as satisfied as I was when I first wrote what I wasn't thinking but thought I was writing what I was. Even though I may have finally written what I meant to, I'm just never quite sure that I did. I get stuck in a cycle of second guessing. After nearly 10 months straight of doing that, I'm just a wee bit too weary of writing.

Plus, I got one of these in the middle of June, so I've been busy taking a lot of these [1].

[1] I took some pictures over the last few days that I also wanted to upload, but I still have a "free" account, which means I can upload at most 100MB per month. I went over that limit before the pictures finished uploading. Come back in a month. A pro account doesn't seem inordinately expensive, but given the level of attention I've paid to my account thus far, it is likely that it could still end up being a waste of money.

I'm almost 32...

...and I still can't skate like these kids.

Blog Off Hiatus

Mid June is here. I have gone to and returned from my conference. Earlier today, I handed back exams from my course, which means, aside from tweaking the spreadsheet with marks, I am more or less done with the class. I should be posting something new soon. Not today. But soon.

Cool

Cool

I can relate

Finally, someone understands my pain.

Pause

Blog on hiatus until mid-June.

Better Than Obama

The first time I heard about swine flu, I was watching French language television with the sound off and didn't know until later that this was the first time I was hearing about swine flu. Since then, I haven't lost a moment of sleep due to worry about swine flu. However, I recognize that some of you might be more anxious about it than I am. Thus, in case you are concerned that you might have it, I thought I'd let you know about a website that will put you fears to rest, or else recommend to you a course of action. Do you have swine flu?

Electrified with Anticipation

When I was kid, I loved winters. I don't remember there being a whole lot of super cold days, and there were all sorts of fun things you could do on snow or ice that you couldn't do on grass or dry pavement. Some things were as simple as running and sliding on a small patch of ice [1]. Other things were more technologically advanced, like tobogganing. There were the occasional winters where the patches of ice were large enough to skate on. In fact, I accidentally taught myself how to skate one winter when the front patio of our house froze over. I was using front part of the railing of the patio as a support and using the side parts to push myself from one end to the other. After a while I noticed that I didn't need the railings for support or to get myself moving. That was the last time that winter that it was icy enough to skate outside, but the skills learned on the patio would prove useful later on.

That winter or the next, my family moved to the city. A short block away from our new house, there was a water reservoir, which was covered over by soil and grass so that it looked like a hill. It was a great place to go tobogganing, and I spent many hours doing just that. When I got older, one of my friends bought an ATV. The GT Sno Racer got tied to the back of it. We rode around that way for days, until the skis were worn flat.

Later on in high school, the student council organized yearly ski trip. I didn't go until my second last year of high school, but I had so much fun, I made sure to go again the next year. There was also the Quebec trip that only the grade 12 class took, which included about 12 hours (nonconsecutive) of skiing. I haven't been since then. There have been attempts to organize trips, but nothing ever materialized.

More recently, I bought myself a pair of skates, and went skating in downtown Kingston at the market square, which was fun for the few times I went before they closed it down (turns out they didn't close it down as early as I thought they would, so I could've gone a few more times). But this was the sum total of my winter activities. I had high hopes of spending more time doing this things, but just never got around to it. The handful of hours I did get in skating doesn't come close to how much fun I remember having.

Now, winter means trudging through the snow and clearing snow of my car and ice off my windshield more than it does fun. While I surely won't miss these things, this is not the part of winter that I am most eager to see gone.

With the end of winter officially behind us two or three days ago, I eagerly anticipate not getting that little electric shock every time I touch, well, pretty much anything it seems. Anything metal is sure to get me zapped. I get it from my car. I've seen the little blue arc when I put my key in the door. Often people are the targets of my excess electrons. Most recently, I even got zapped by my hand soap, and moments later, by my tap water. Bring on the spring!

[1] I still do this if there's a large enough patch of ice on the sidewalk. Sometimes I feel safer running and sliding than walking slowly.

Scrabble Advice

Some time ago, two brothers from India developed an application for facebook called Scrabulous, that allowed facebook users to play Scrabble against each other. Other than the name, it was no different from Scrabble. It also wasn't licenced by either of the companies that own the trademark to the game. Legal battles ensued, and eventually Scrabulous was shut down. In the meantime, Scrabulous was reinvented as Lexulous, a Scrabble-like game but not Scrabble, while Hasbro, the company that owns the trademark in Canada and the US, and Electronic Arts have developed their own version of Scrabble, which I assume is legal. Mattel, which owns the trademark in the rest of the world, has also developed a version of Scrabble which I shouldn't be able to play because I am not outside of the US or Canada, yet I just did. My impression is that Hasbro's version was hastily put together, ostensibly because they wanted to get the game to their fans on facebook as soon as possible, but more likely they were trying to prevent players from switching their allegiance to Lexulous. The application is still in beta, so there are lots of bugs. Also, it's usually referred to as Scrabble Beta on the discussion board.

Personally, I haven't experienced any of these bugs. The only problems that I've had is that the game is slow to load, if it loads at all, when they're doing server maintenance, but this isn't really a bug. But people are reporting alls sorts of bugs to the discussion board for the game (which is not the place to report bugs). One of the more common ones that I've read about is that the tiles that appear in the virtual rack are not the players actual tiles. The latest such question was as follows

i leave the screen, come back, and my letters have changed............wtf?

To which I responded with the advice

The problem is not Scrabble Beta, but your screen. It has become infested with tiny little ants who are rearranging your pixels. Clever little buggers they are. Just tilt your screen to the side, and shake it a bit, kinda like an Etch-a-Sketch. That should clear things up. Oh, and get some bug spray and spray it into the vents at the back of your monitor, to ensure this sort of thing doesn't happen again.

Big words

Some time ago, I learned about a book simply referred to as "Fowler". A book identified only by the the name of its author must certainly be an important one, and so I sought out the title of the book, which turned out to be "Modern English Usage," or "A Dictionary of Modern English Usage." The former title appears on the spine, while the latter appears on the first page of the dictionary.

While visiting a friend's office one time, I noticed two very old books on a desk. One of them was a desktop Oxford English dictionary. The other was a 1926 edition of Fowler. The book belonged to neither my friend nor his friend, the only other inhabitant of the office. So I took it.

There were dictionaries aplenty in every classroom of my grade school and most of my high school classrooms as well (mainly those which were mostly likely to host an English class). We were encouraged to use them. We also learned grammar throughout. Or at least the teachers tried to teach us. Thus, we had access to the bits and pieces of the language, and we knew the mechanics of how these bits and pieces fit together. But no effort was put into telling us how to use the language, or even where we might go to find such advice. Style guides by any author if they existed at all in the classroom, were never mentioned by our teachers. There are a variety of types of entries. Some give more detailed explanations of certain words than a dictionary would give. Other entries dispel various taboos about grammar that were invented when the first authors English grammar books seem to have been under the impression that the language was a dialect of French [1]. Some entries identify pitfalls of writing, such as writing sentences which, although meaningful and grammatical, are too long and complex, or how best to write a letter (not so much relevant anymore). Others are designed to give you an answer of "Yes" when you ask the question "Does this sound right?"

Among the pitfalls of writing are the entries on Pedantic Humour and Polysylabic Humour, which I reproduce below.

Pedantic Humour: No essential distinction is intended between this and Polysyllabic Humour; one or the other name is more appropriate to particular specimens, and the two headings are therefore useful for reference;but they are manifestations of the same implus, and the few remarks needed may be made here for both. A warning is necessary, because we have all of us, except the abnormally stupid, been pedantic humourists in our time. We spend much of our childhood picking up a vocabulary; we like to air our latest finds; we discover that our elders are tickled when we come out with a new name that they thought beyond us; we devote some pains to tickle them further, and there we are, pedants and polysyllabicisits all. The impulse is healthy for children, and nearly universal — which is just why warning is necessary; for among so many there will always be some who fail to realize that the clever habit applauded at home will make them insufferable abroad. Most of those who are capable of writing well enough to find readers do learn sooner or later that playful use of long or learned words is a one-sided game boring the reader more than it pleases the writer, that the impulse to it is a danger-signal — for there must be something wrong with what they are saying if it needs recommending by such puerilities — and that yielding to the impulse is a confession of failure. But now and then even an able writer will go on believing that the incongruity between simple things to be said and out-of-the-way words to say them in has a perennial charm. Perhaps it has for the reader who never outgrows hobbledehoyhood; but for the rest of us it is dreary indeed. It is possible that acquaintance with such labels as pedantic and polysyllabic humour may help to shorten the time it takes to cure a weakness incident to youth.

An elementary example or two should be given. The words homoeopathic (small or minute), sartorial (of clothes), interregnum (gap), or familiar ones: -- To introduce 'Lords of Parliament' in such a homoeopathic doses as to leave a preponderating power in the hands of those who enjoy a merely hereditary title./While we were motoring out to the station I took stock of his sartorial aspect, which had change somewhat since we parted./In his vehement action his breeches fall down and his waistcoat runs up, so that there is a great interregnum.

These words are like most that are much used in humour of either kind, both pedantic and polysyllabic. A few specimens that cannot be described as polysyllabic are added here, and for the large class of long words, the article Polysyllabic Humour should be consulted: -- ablution; aforesaid; beverage; bivalve (the succulent); caloric; cuticle; digit; domestics; eke (adv.); ergo; erstwhile; felicide; nasal organ; neighbourhood (in the n. of, = about); nether garments; optic (eye); parlous; vulpicide.

Polysyllabic Humour. See Pedantic Humour for a silght account of the impulse that suggests long or abstruse words as a means of entertaining the hearer. Of the long as distinguished from the abstruse, terminological exactitude for lie or falsehood is a favourable example, but much less amusing ad the hundredth than at the first time of hearing. Oblivious to their pristine nudity (forgetting they were stark naked) is a less familiar specimen. Nothing need here be added to hat was said in the other article beyond a short specimen list of long words or phrases that sensible people avoid. Batavian, Caledonian, Celestial, Hibernian and Milesian for Dutch, Scotch, Chinese, and Irish. Solution of continuity, femoral habiliments, refrain from lacteal addition, and olfactory organ for gap, breeches, take no milk, and nose. Osculatory, pachydermatous, matutinal, diminutive, fuliginous, fugacious, esurient, culinary, and minacious, for kissing, thick-skinned, morning, tiny, sooty, timid, hungry, kitchen, and threatening. Frontispiece, individual, eqitation, intermediary, cachinnation, and epidermis, for face, person, riding, means, laughter, and skin. Negotiate and peregrinate for tackle and travel.

All this being said, I want this book.

[1] One example of which is that you cannot end a sentence with a preposition. This is pure nonsense, in part because it contradicts the evidence, and in part because it misstates the imagined problem. You're not allowed to do this in French. In English, there is nothing wrong with it. Quite often sentences can be rewritten to avoid it. Sometimes they cannot. Even if they can, the rewritten sentence often sounds awkward and artificial.