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Showing posts from June, 2007

Left on red?

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In Ontario (a province in Canada), we can turn right on a red light. We can also turn left on a red light, if we are on a one way street turning into a one way street. But I wonder about doing a U-turn on a red light? I do it (when safe to do so), but I worry that I might be breaking some traffic regulation. My reasoning is that I am turning left from a single lane into an adjoining single lane and not crossing oncoming traffic (if you ignore the fact that my turn is wide and ends up in the right hand lane). You can turn left on red in Quebec (another province in Canada) too, except in Montreal (a city in the province of Quebec). Image nabbed from here .

Let the facts speak for themselves

One of the things I love about science is that everything happens without human intervention: measurements were made, errors were introduced, the data shows, ... as near as you can tell, the experiment, the document, the peer review all happened spontaneously without human intervention. The language is carefully chosen to remove perception of bias – after all, who can argue with data? Well, I can. The data shows nothing. In fact, data is meaningless. Data only acquires meaning within a context. And a context has bias. You don't believe me? Here is some data: 1 1 2 3 5 8 13 21. Some of you probably recognized it as the first 8 terms of the Fibonacci sequence. Is it the number of petals on flowers, the seeds in a sunflower, the curvature of a nautilus shell? Without context, it has no meaning. The data in a scientific paper has no intrinsic meaning. It acquires meaning only in the context in which it is presented and, despite the detached language used, the context is constructed to

"You know, the very powerful and the very stupid have one thing in common,

they don't alter their views to fit the facts, they alter the facts to fit their views, which can be uncomfortable, if you happen to be one of the facts that needs altering. - Doctor Who, The Face of Evil. The real meat of this quote is "the very powerful and the very stupid have one thing in common, they don't alter their views to fit the facts, they alter the facts to fit their views ", but I prefer the whole quote because, one, it gives the entire context and, two, it sounds much less didactic. I think it is very true, since I experienced it first hand back in 1977. I was a big sci-fi fan back then (and still am) and loved watching Star Trek, but was hungry for more good sci-fi (after all, how many times can you watch the same episodes over and over again? Quite a lot, actually). On TV there was The Starlost, Planet of the Apes, The Tomorrow People, Space 1999, The Six Million Dollar Man - while those shows could offer some entertainment, they did not have the sam

OMG! OMG! OMG!

My brother is getting married this Saturday. Tania is the flower girl (unfortunately, she came down with chicken pox on Monday). Jason is the ring bearer (he had his tonsils removed exactly two weeks ago). One thing I have never understood is why women act so surprised when they are proposed to. After all, if you are in a relationship, you must have some idea of where it is going. No? When I asked my borther's girlfriend if she was surprised, she said "Very much so. It was totally unexpected." I remember finding this odd 20+ years ago when watching America's Funniest Videos. Periodically, they would show clips of women who had been proposed to. I always thought their reactions were silly. After all, it is not like they won the lottery. They were in a relationship that presumably had a direction and purpose and, presumably, marriage was the expected outcome. For the curious (and showing once again how different I am from others), Sofia is the only girlfriend I ever had

Meating in Montreal

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One of the neat things about grocery shopping in Montreal is the slightly wider variety of food I can find. There is no need to walk into a specialty store. I think every major grocery store I have been in sells horse meat. Most sell bison as well. Horse is very, very lean. Ground horse meat is cheaper than lean ground beef and leaner than extra-lean ground beef. I recently bought some non-traditional meats (red deer, horse and bison) and used them to make a stew (I just told the family it was beef because they tend to be picky about eating non-traditional animals). Photo credits: Richard of ForbiddenPlanet

"He's mowing his lawn again?

What? Does he, like, cut it everyday?" Tania, my 8 year old daughter, commenting on our neighbour yet again mowing his lawn. He is retired. He has been for a while, but this year he has become obsessive about all manner of yard work. It may be a consequence of his suffering a heart attack earlier this year. Sofia says she has seen him mowing the lawn twice a day (morning and evening).

Seven Songs

A few weeks back, breal invited me to participate in a musical meme . The rules are simple, list seven songs you are listening to now and why. In my case, I was not in a music listening mood at the time so I postponed it until I was. Although, in my case it is more like seven artists I am listening to. Why do I like these songs? Simple, they mess with my neurochemistry and make me feel good. It is not the lyrics or the music I enjoy, but the whole effect. For example, I like Tutti-Frutti by Little Richard, but when sung by Pat Boone, it is awful. Usually, I am tied into one particular version - for example Aretha Franklin does an excellent job with Chain of Fools, but so does Little Richard (he wrote it) - which is rare. The best way to enjoy them is to ignore the videos (I find them distracting), crank up the volume, close your eyes and let the music wash over you. Like the Steppenwolf song Magic Carpet Ride says "Close your eyes, girl. Step inside, girl. Let the sound take you

Evolution of Free Will

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The question of free will has been bugging me since around April 2005, prior to that, it was a given that free will was absolute - every choice or lack of choice was your decision to make (Sartre we are condemned to be free ). From a physics point of view, the development of free will is nonsense, since free will transcends the deterministic nature of the physical universe (ignoring for the moment spooky quantum behaviour). Consequently, free will cannot exist. Therefore, we are deterministic, but ... we have the illusion of free will. We believe we make choices, we believe we a distinct from others. But why would such an illusion evolve? What is the benefit of thinking we have free will? I haven't seen any good theories on this; generally, it is ignored or left unanswered. When answers are given, they tend to be of the “it makes us feel good” variety. Feeling good about ourselves means we will be more likely to reproduce and pass those characteristics on, as opposed to those who

"Wanting to meet an author

because you like his work is like wanting to meet a duck because you like paté." , Margaret Atwood, Negotiating with the Dead: A Writer on Writing

Whenever you find yourself on the side of the majority, it's time to pause and reflect.

Attributed to Mark Twain.

An F for writing

When writing by hand, I prefer to use a pencil instead of a pen. Though, if I am forced to use a pen (as at work), I prefer an easy flowing medium ballpoint (I would love to try out a large ballpoint, but have not found one). I absolutely cannot stand fine or ultrafine ballpoints – they are only good for ripping pages – besides which, the ink never properly flows out of them. The same goes for those mechanical pencils with the fine leads (0.5mm et al.). I like a nice wood pencil with six sides. It can be yellow or blue or natural in colour. The colour doesn't matter. More specifically, I like an F pencil. I can manage with a 2H, but I find it a bit too hard. After sharpening the point, I draw curves and lines to get the point gently rounded for use. I like the feel of the pencil as it glides along the page. I like the look of the letters and words and strokes.

Vinnie

An old man lived alone in the country. He wanted to dig his tomato garden, but it was very hard work as the ground was hard. His only son, Vincent, who used to help him, was in prison. The old man wrote a letter to his son and described his predicament. Dear Vincent, I am feeling badly because it looks like I won't be able to plant my tomato garden this year. I'm just getting too old to be digging up the garden plot. I know that if you were here my troubles would be over. I know you would be happy to dig the plot for me. Love, Dad A few days later he received a letter from his son. Dear Dad, Don't dig up that garden! That's where I buried the bodies. Love, Vinnie At 4 a.m. the next morning, FBI agents and local police arrived and dug up the entire area without finding any bodies. They apologized to the old man and left. That same day the old man received another letter from his son. Dear Dad, Go ahead and plant the tomatoes now. That's the best I could do under the