Thoughts on time

I was perusing the internet, as I do, and came across this blog. Now, I'm not saying that all Kerry Mac's thoughts are rational and lucid (hell, whose are?), but she's got an interesting perspective on the whole time/speed of light/parallel universe theory. I'm not sure where or how she's arrived at her thoughts or whether she just put this all down after a few too many pints or on a day when she forgot her meds. Nonetheless, some of humankind's best discoveries have come on the back of a bit of madness/lateral thinking/call it what you will. Enjoy Kerry Mac's own little brand - her blog entry on the 3rd of February is the one to which I'm referring - it must have taken her a good, long time to think through the possibilities of time/parallel universes she's positing.

Ciao!

Tempus Fugit

I hadn't really any intentions of keeping a daily blog and promised myself that if life got too busy that I wouldn't feel badly about not posting. However, I realised last week that each day that went by, I felt a guilty niggling sensation for not even logging on and attempting to write, at all.

That's how life is, though. Despite the seemingly generous amounts of time we'd have IF ONLY we'd budget for commuting, chores, sleeping, eating, socialising and self-generated entertainment (read into that what you will though I only meant reading and responding to emails), it seems that everything always runs over. We don't have bells to guide us from one activity to the next, giving us five minutes to take a pee break and go to our lockers for the next set of paraphernalia. So, I find that the filing I wanted only to take 45 minutes, indeed, takes a whopping 2 hours and 6 minutes, to be precise. That means I don't get a chance to watch 'Ready, Steady, Cook' or even log onto tinseleffect. In fact, filing has actually cut into the time I've allotted to visit the facilities (I do multi-task with that, though, and catch up on reading the Money section of the weekend paper). What I've decided is an attitude adjustment, and to do this I've decided to rework one of my chores into an entertainment or social activity. You know, something like disco-dance dusting or eating dinner with friends whilst pruning the Mahonia japonica, that sort of thing. I figure it's a positive step forward rather than moping about and pining for more time. In fact, tonight when SO and I have our dinner up at the pub with one of our friends, I'm going to take along the beginnings of my next Open U essay and try to get everyone to join in with their contribution to the topic of...'How Children make meaning through language'. Excellent!

Best wishes for a lovely weekend, I hope you enjoy the full 48 hours!

Welcome to Summer

I've been looking forward to this day all year - the summer solstice and, technically, the longest day of the year. I noticed that the sky was still twilight-blue as I brushed my teeth to get in bed, at 10.15pm. Not bad, not bad at all. The UK, and London, is more northerly than I've ever lived and it took some getting used to having the sun begin to rise at 3.30am, in the summer. I'd love to go up nearer the Arctic Circle, like the Outer Hebrides, one year just to time the sunset and sunrise on the solstice. If you're in the mood for celebrating today, slap on some prog-rock, preferably Jethro Tull, and skip around a tree or two. If not, perhaps some astronomical information will get you in the mood to enjoy the summer.

Not a Minute to spare

I'm so pressed for time tonight that I shan't write more than to say...I'm pressed for time. I haven't had a chance to look up anything fantastical or phenomenal or ethereal today. I've only been playing in the fountains, at Somerset House, with the boy. The jets of water are timed to go off at intervals of fifteen seconds or so. The jet was down, the boy was curious and inspected the spigot (is that the right word?) and got a face full of water much to the delight of the lunchtime crowd. Bless, what a doll! He took it in his stride. If you're interested in our walk today, we went from Kennington to Waterloo Bridge, over to the Strand, buzzed about Covent Garden and then hit Pizza Express and Somerset House, and back to Kennington/Oval.

Quid pro quo - one for another (an exchange).

You're A Fine Man, Mr. Feynman

I am ABSOLUTELY rubbish at Physics. I only managed to pass a 'high-school' level course, here, in the UK, a few years ago. Then, it was only because I sat next to someone who understood Physics and agreed to be my lab partner, out of sympathy and bribe consisting of a daily cappucino and pain au chocolat. However, I have recently been reading through a book of letters written by the late, great Richard P Feynman entitled, Don't You Have Time to Think?, and I thought I would have another go at tackling some of the more elementary principles of Physics. I found a brilliant website, yesterday, which has a few fun experiments and explanations for why the world operates as it does.

Have a go, follow the 'Feynman' link and see what you think. Is Richard P. Feynman a fine man? If you get the opportunity to find the 'Horizon' documentary on You Tube and hear what he has to say on his involvement in developing the atomic bomb, does it change things for you?

Latin for the Day

In case you need to insult somebody today...

'Lustis naturae' - a freak of nature

Taken from 'Latin for the Illiterati'
copyright Jon R. Stone

Oh I Do Like To Be Beside The Seaside...

Monday afternoon. I'm still thinking about the weekend and my visit to the South East coast. Brighton, in East Sussex, is a lovely little town, and together with its neighbour to the west, Hove, make up the City of Brighton and Hove. I believe it was given city status by the Queen, in 2000, to commemorate the millennium - most 'cities' in the UK are required to have a cathedral, the status is not normally based on population. There's something so fresh and exhausting about the sea. I walked along the shingle beach and found some rubbish that had washed ashore from France (a 3-ring binder with French writing and logo - vive la France!) Across the water, some 40 miles away is Dieppe, which has a lovely museum at the top of a hill with a collection of Georges Braques paintings and prints, as well as some Walter Sickert paintings, which are quite haunting. What you may not know about Sickert is that there is speculation, in some circles, that he was actually Jack the Ripper.

The gardens in Sussex Square were in full bloom and I spent about an hour just sitting on a bench in an ivy-covered suntrap, reading the newspaper. It was glorious. If you'd like to have a look some pictures of the gardens just click here.

The sea air really does wear me out and I took a nap in the middle of the afternoon, which is something I haven't done in AGES! Now, here I am at the beginning of another week wishing that the weekends were longer or Brighton was closer. I will have to wait until next Saturday for another dose of positive ions...

Good Boy, Good Girl

I've been studying gender and its impact on children, recently. A lot of the material I've sifted through I knew and understood, like the concept that gender is taught and that from culture to culture roles of gender and gendered behaviour vary. The idea that took me some time to get my head around is how certain behaviour is supported by one gender but not the other, within same gendered groups, and practicing the acceptable behaviours then reinforces the stereotype of the gendered behaviour. Kind of mind blowing, huh? Basically, it means that if we were in groups of girls (or people who identified with the female gender) as children and adolescents then we were allowed to 'try on' the behaviours that were deemed 'okay' for girls to display or practice - the demure one, the bitchy one, the geeky one, the screechy one, the nagging one, the strong one, the tomboy, you get the picture. The same goes for boys (and people who identified with the male gender). There is a fairly wide range of behaviours that is acceptable within same-gendered groups, depending on what social class you were or what activities or hobbies you pursued. At the end of the day, though, you were subject to the scrutiny of your same-gendered peers deciding whether or not you had the acceptable, or an acceptable level of 'girl' or 'boy' behaviour. See, I love this stuff. The theories of how humans behave in packs have fascinated me; at times I've been the outcast of the pack and other times I've been a ringleader and each position comes with its own politics. Either way, behaviour (and deviant behaviour) determines your place in the pack and the reaction of others to you. TBC.

Latin for the Day

'Facilis descensus Averno' - the descent to hell is easy

Taken from Latin for the Illiterati
copyright Jon R. Stone

Loveliness

The whole idea of tinsel effect was to find a way to remove some of the unnecessary glitter that we put on things and get down to the bare bones of an issue. Naming things for what they are rather than what we'd like them to be. Finding a way to tease out the reality, separate it from fantasy is, I believe, one of the ways that humans can truly make sense of the world. I'm not sure that Im managing to do that, at all. I do know that nothing galls me more than when I attempt to go in one sure direction and then I meander down another. Here is a tinsel-worthy site that I found whilst perusing some interesting blogs. I'm not sure what the blog etiquette is for using a link within text, so if someone would be kind enough to let me know if I'm stepping on toes I'd appreciate the feedback. Until I get my head around html tags, again, so that I can create a link, you'll just have to cut and paste the address into your browser...sorry. Anyway, the blog is at: http://tlltworld.blogspot.com/ and I hope that the 'tinsel' in the images is enough to make your day happy, knowing that things do often appear to be what they are not. Loveliness is often in disguise. The artist has collected images from Flikr and other sites and found a way to link them together. It's quite a clever concept and I spent a good ten minutes on it just getting my dose of loveliness for the day.

Latin for the Day

Okay, here's another little quip for you to use in your daily repartee. Today's Latin phrase is:

'Mea virtute me involvo' - I wrap myself up in my virtue

Taken from Latin for the Illiterati, copyright Jon R. Stone

The Benefits of Aging, Part Un

Hopefully I can offer an antidote to yesterday's miserable post bemoaning my ungraceful and inevitable aging. I present to you the Benefits of Aging, Part I

1. Adults are rarely regarded suspiciously by shopkeepers for being rabblerousers, shoplifters, troublemakers and vandals. This suspicion is even less so if the shoppers mentioned above have gray hair.

2. Aging gives one an excuse for bad dance moves. I was known for being able to shake my groove thing, in my time. I now look much less like 'one of the gang' out on the dancefloor and more like a drunk-uncle-at-a-wedding.

3. Less drama. Fewer breakups and wailing and gnashing of teeth.

4. A savings account. A pension. Equity.

5. Perspective. Usually by the time people hit forty they've had one of each on the a la carte menu of experiences. An equal amount of good and bad events tempers your perspective. I make exceptions on this for some people, most likely those who belong to fringe groups, conservative political parties and royalty.

There are other benefits to aging, I am sure. I will open the floor for you to list what you believe are the benefits to aging and perhaps this will warrant a part deux.

Radio GaGa

IF IT'S TOO LOUD, YOU'RE TOOOOO OLD!! Okay, today it was a bit too loud, I had to turn it down.
Everything on my favourite radio station between the hours of 12:30pm and 1:30pm sounded the same.

Red flags for aging.

Latin for the Day

'Non licet omnibus adire Corinthum' - Not everyone is permitted to go to Corinth (we cannot all be wealthy)

Taken from Latin for the Illiterati
copyright Jon R. Stone

A Walk In The Park

Yesterday was glorious and sunny in London. The temps were in the high 70's F, mid 20's C. Nice weather made for smiles all around. My S/O and I had been for a walk in the local park, looking at the latest architectural digs around the terraces of the old Crystal Palace, and taking the dog for a run in the open fields. Our conversation turned, as it often does, to the problems associated with living and working in the UK, how difficult it is to reconcile beliefs of a state that provides a basic standard of living for everyone with the occasional feelings of frustration at having to pay high taxes to help support those who might really be taking unfair advantage of a welfare state. In other words, people who are just too damned lazy to get up and go to work. Should the chronically lazy be made to work for their benefits - isn't that just giving them a job? I came up with something that, I think, ties in somewhat with my post from Friday 8th June.

I'm all for work in the same way I'm all for education. I think it brings about a sense of fulfillment and structure that most people need in order to feel good about themselves and the world around them. I would like to see jobs becoming places where people want to go to be productive, socialise, contribute to a common good (even capitalism can have its benevolent heart) and be supported as part of a team. I would like to see people who stay home to work - as mothers, fathers, carers and service providers - given a bit more respect and some financial support to do that important work of raising children, caring for the infirm or elderly or maintaining land. I believe that those who cannot work at traditional jobs, but want to work, find a way to sporadically volunteer for a charity or church, in exchange for some of their benefits. I'm not suggesting that those who do not want to work a traditional job need to do so out of obligation to pay back the citizenry who is supporting them. That, I think, would be similar to forcing someone to attend university who had no interest in higher education, or, to put it more simply, forcing a square peg into a round hole. Indeed, we might all find ourselves in situations when we need to rely upon the safety net that the state or the church provides - guilt shouldn't really enter into the equation, at any time. Additionally, I would have no desire going to a job and working alongside someone who detests the organization or the work that is done inside. In the same way that compulsory education, at times, brings out the worst in students who would rather not be there and ruins the classroom experience for everyone else. I would hate to have a career where the person sitting next to me was only there to keep his or her benefits. No, I'd rather the person who does not wish to work, not have to do so next to me. Nimby-ism at its finest!!

What's the solution? Maybe it's time to create some more fun jobs! Aren't we all sick and tired of the ratrace, tired of the treadmill and ready to pack in our jobs? I mean, let's make up some jobs that are geared to entertain and inform and inspire! Shouldn't that be the point of going to work - that productive work is BETTER than staying home?

A recent Harris poll of American workers, over the age of 18, found that the majority of people who work don't really like their jobs - 55% reported job dissatisfaction - and only one in five are truly inspired with the work they do. Those are paltry results for what is, essentially, one third of our adult lives. Perhaps Harris caught 55% of the sample group on a really bad day and the results don't actually reflect the true nature of satisfaction - that it fluctuates and is dependent on a variety of conditions. Something makes me think that's not really the case. The following day might find the satisfied 45% feeling disenchanted about work - they're still lousy statistics about how America (and possibly the UK) feels about the work they're hired to do, the environment in which they're supposed to work, or the people with which they share their work.

I am lucky that I have a brilliant job at the moment. It pays bills and it's a good way to earn a living. It's not a 'perfect' scenario everyday - I have off days and times when I wonder about the course my life is taking. However, I know people whose jobs are never a walk in the park and I've been there with my fair share of sh*t jobs, too. It seems that, for them, a benefactor or a lottery win is the only way to stop the treadmill. The Constitution of the United States states that intrinsic to peoples' rights is the 'pursuit of happiness'. Do you think the state has an obligation to provide for people until they find their bliss? What do you think would be the state of the state that provided that option for its citizens? I think it would be a highly improbable programme to support, but a nice one to think upon.

Happy Birthday

Yesterday was my aunt's birthday. I have an unbelievably brilliant relationship with my aunt, despite our living on different continents. "C" is my mother's youngest sister and she is only ten years my senior, so I look upon her as an 'older sister' more than an aunt. She's got an amazing mind and a good core. I don't know how to explain good cores, really, except that she has such a positive impact on everyone I have introduced to her. I think what I mean is that she's got the ability to see things in perspective and consider countless possibilities. She and I can talk for HOURS, and when we have had the chance to visit, we talked about most things under the sun. It's difficult articulating the impact she has had on my life, and when I try I usually end up overstating things and sounding sycophantic, which probably creeps her out and, in retrospect, embarrasses me that I, perhaps, have missed the mark. However, she has never let it show and accepts my awkward fawning graciously. Auntie C...whatever birthday antics you enjoyed, yesterday, I hope they were lovely and that you have a tremendous year ahead of you. I love you. xxH

Knowing and Doing are Two Different Matters

Last night I attended a tutorial session for a course that I am taking through the Open University. Without delving too much into how wonderful the concept of OU is for a student like me, I will say that it probably would have been far too difficult for me to get my degree through a traditional university and that OU does its best to cater for people who, because of one reason or another cannot attend full-time, campus-based lectures. However, once a month, the OU offers group tutorial sessions, which are held at nearby universities, after hours, so that those enrolled in courses can get together with other students, their tutor/professor and bounce ideas off each other as to the nature of the reading material and the progress of written assignments that are required for assessments. These assignments usually take the form of essays, one per month, and consisting between 1500 and 2000 words. Unlike some other long-distance learning universities that have only been set up recently and offer a wide range of degrees through on-line or correspondence material, the OU and their degree programmes are widely respected in the UK. Granted, the degree that I will get from the OU will not hold as much clout as say a degree from Oxford or Cambridge, but it is a solid basis for any career or post-grad work that I might want to do here, in the UK.

Now, my little spiel about the OU isn't important to qualify my degree status or how brilliant the OU concept is, but to illustrate the importance of the tutorial groups to those who are able to attend. Last night, I committed a faux pas and today I am ruminating on it, to an extent that I must make a confession about it...

I am aware that adult-learning scenarios contain mainly the same types of students that were present in elementary/primary school and in high school. The only exception being the 'class clown' or 'unruly' student, as hopefully neither of those personalities appears in later voluntary education (although, I am aware of the undergrad student types who do feel it necessary to inject inappropriate humour into discussions). The problem is that last night I became the student who took up precious time (bearing in mind, we are only allocated two hours of tutorial time per month) to ask a question that should have been directed to the tutor AFTER the group tutorial. You know the type of student I mean, the one who HAS to make a point that is completely irrelevant or so unhelpful to the discussion that the time spent getting back on track is, yet, more wasted time. *sigh* I suppose the reason it bothers me so much is that I know that everyone in that classroom has busy lives and has made a real effort to attend, some traveling from over an hour away by train.

1/40th of the discussion was devoted to my little rant. I am very disappointed in myself because usually I am able to filter out information that seems unnecessary or silly. I did apologise afterward for monopolising the last bit of the lecture, but it was done and couldn't be taken back, nor could any more time be given to those who might have benefited from a different line of discussion. When I was younger and in elementary and high school I very often used tactics to distract and divert teachers' attentions from the lectures, much to the delight of most of my classmates. As an adult, I find it tiresome to listen to others deliberately (or inadvertently) mislead, and so wish I could have gone back and done my education differently. So, if you trawl the blogworld after having read this post and find another London-area OU student who is bitching about the tutorial experience she (our group is completely female) had last night, then just be aware she could be referring to me and my little faux pas. You might say that it's not all that bad and perhaps I should stop being so critical. Actually, I think it is entirely appropriate to point out that as we age and gain more experience the parallels of knowing and doing should more closely mirror each other. Last night was just a teensy-weensy example of my knowledge and my actions diverging, for even a brief moment and the consequences that followed, for everyone. Hmm. What do you think? What student type were you? What type are you now?

Five new things

1. Stephane Grappelli / Yehudi Menuhin CD - Strictly For The Birds
2. Leo Tolstoy novella - The Devil
3. Knowledge Cards - Latin for the Illiterati
4. Black Hair band - Accessorize
5. Jason body powder - with Tea tree oil

Why?

1. For song number 10, Sweet Sue. What a lovely lilting violin Grappelli plays. I once had a very vivid dream about ten years ago that I could play the violin and did so in the high school marching band! It was a strange sensation trying to march about the field, scraping a bow across the strings.
2 Page 49, "...But Liza, being sensitive, at once noticed that something was tormenting Yevgeny, and she asked him whether anything unpleasant had happened. He was not prepared for this question and hesitated a little before replying that there had been nothing. This reply had made Liza think all the more. That something was tormenting him, and greatly tormenting, was as evident to her as that a fly had fallen into the milk, yet he would not speak of it. What could it be?"
3. 'Silo et philosophus esto' - Be silent and you will pass for a philosopher. 'Sutor, ne supra crepidam' - (cobbler, stick to your last) mind your own business.
4. My hair is growing out and I'm not sure what to do with it. I've stuck it into a black alice band and I'm trying to ignore it.
5. Combines dessicant, anti-bacterial and eco-smug properties all in one shake of the canister. Yea, dry AND ethical!

Five new things today.

Driving in Souf London, innit?

When I first moved over to the UK (back in 2001), I decided that it would be a good idea if I learned to drive on the 'other' (notice I did not say 'wrong') side of the road. Considering that I had been legally driving since the age of 14, and I'm a very confident and experienced driver, I thought it would be a piece of cake. I was a bit wrong. No, I was VERY wrong. Driving in the UK is one thing, but driving in South London (SE19) is another thing altogether! For those of you who have never been to London, consider that it has been inhabited (to a lesser or greater degree) since AD 43, so negotiating the winding streets around Brixton and Herne Hill in a Renault Megane is quite different than walking or taking a horse and cart along the same winding streets. In fact, negotiation and diplomacy play a huge part in driving in the UK. There are all sorts of rules and flashing of headlights and hand signals that mean absolutely nothing to an American driver used to wide roads and four-way stops. These British road rules often date back to etiquette that horse and cart drivers practiced. For instance, on London's crowded and narrow roads there is usually parking on both sides of the streets, which leaves traffic with barely enough room to pass the parked vehicles (on the left) and the oncoming traffic (on the right), and so there is often a great deal of pulling in to let oncoming traffic pass. The surefire method for negotiating this pulling in and letting the other car pass still escapes me and ofttimes it only seems to be a game of 'chicken'. For instance, it is an unwritten but often observed rule that when on a hill, the car driving up will have the right of way and the car driving down will 'tuck in' to a space between parked cars. My sources say that this rule of road etiquette dates back to when a horse and cart going uphill was more difficult to get started than a horse and cart going downhill was to stop. However, London is a very large city (well over 7 million)full of people from around the globe, and not everyone is privy to the history of driving etiquette in Great Britain. Needless to say, when I have visitors from the US to stay and a drive is required, the gasps and moans from passengers, as I careen from A to B, are distinctly audible. I'm sure it's mostly because sitting in the front passenger's seat without a steering wheel or brakes is a new and scary experience for an American, whose automatic instinct is to grab at the dashboard and stomp on the floorboards whenever approaching vehicles seem to be making a beeline for the car. Additionally, and other UK drivers will probably agree with me on this, the London driver really is in an elite class of scary drivers all on his or her own. I mean, I've also heard that Roman drivers, Parisian drivers, Mexico City drivers and most Vietnamese drivers rank up there with the London driver and that you MUST be alert and revving to go, otherwise you should just be on a bus...

I've got an idea to install a dashboard camera and record my journey to and from work, one day and post it on YouTube, but I think it loses some of its authenticity and scariness. Take it from me, it's a hairy ride and sometimes it's an even bigger trip than illicit substances (or so I imagine), but I suppose my lack of criticism for the London drivers means I probably have joined their ranks and have a bit of pride in being able to get myself from Crystal Palace to the Oval in one piece, every day, in a mad and frenzied manner.

Googling the 'Tinsel Effect'

Right then, on we go. I Googled 'Tinsel Effect' and the competition I have for naming my theory is from a scientific paper published in Washington state for the International Society for Optical Engineering proceedings series, in 2000, observing what happens when:

"2-(2'-hydroxy-5'-methylphenyl)-5-chlorobenzotriazole (TINC1) compound belongs to class of compound in which after UV excitation intramolecular proton transfer reaction takes place in solid state at room temperature. Newly created proton-transferred form fluoresces in the red range of the spectrum. Microscopic study of micrometer size fluorescing crystals gives an opportunity to observe guiding and amplification of spontaneously emitted light. Maximum of light traveling along the crystal is shifted towards high-energy range. We called this transfer in needle of spontaneously emitted luminescence as TINSEL effect Taking into account the total internal reflection phenomenon, qualitative explanation of TINSEL effect was done. TINSEL gives new possibility of application TINC1 as homogeneous core fiber."

I've tried to understand the abstract of this paper. I've lifted the extract from French website and so it may be a direct translation from English to French, and back into English - or perhaps I just haven't a clue as to what the paper actually entails. It seems that whatever happens in this chemical reaction, exactly, the resulting fluorescent red glow is probably quite a lovely spectacle to behold. Who knows, it might be as exciting to glimpse as chucking a bit of pure sodium (Na) into H2O and watching the sparks fly! Anyway, I'm sure that if anyone in the realm of science or industry reads this blog and feels strongly that I should change the name of my burgeoning theoretical position (and or blog), then I shall. Until that time, I will continue to compete with the only other non-commercial use for the words 'tinsel effect' as a free patent for a process for producing viscose hoses by precipitation, as well as a few thousand other commercial sites advertising tinsel-based products.

So much for the research aspect of this project. Onward and outward...

What is the tinsel effect?

What is the tinsel effect? I don't know if exists outside of my own head. I'll have to Google it later and see whether it matches the dictionary inside my brain. I doubt I've coined a new term or made up something original, but I needed a name for my blog and since I'm late in jumping on the blog bandwagon, all the other good names were taken...or at least the good ones that came to my mind.

The tinsel effect is what people do to cover up the things they (myself included) don't want others to see. Similarly, a Christmas tree or a store window can be covered in tinsel to the point that you can only see the tinsel. The tinsel effect might also be used to describe what we do to cover up the truth about things. False optimism and blind allegiance are strands of tinsel. Lack of critical thinking about subjects is another strand of tinsel. Dishonesty for the sake of preserving someone's feelings is tinsel - although I still do a bit of tactful truth-bending, at times. All these tactics we use to make ourselves feel better, all the while we're neglecting the substance underneath. The store window without tinsel becomes another shop selling possibly unnecessary items (except for Muji, in which all the items are probably unnecessary but highly desirable). The Christmas tree without tinsel becomes a plant that probably would have been nicer to look at in a garden or in the woods. I'm not trying to be pessimistic here, but separating the tinsel from the object underneath is quite liberating - I believe it returns a basic, more truthful identity to that object. I don't have any answers with this blog and I'm sure that philosophers have explained the Tinsel Effect in more eloquent and accurate terms. This is my blog and I'm just trying to see what's under the tinsel. Thanks for reading.