Fear

"The only thing we have to fear, is fear itself"

-Franklin D. Roosevelt (1st Inaugural Address)

I'm still jumpy. I jump at shadows, I'm nervous of people walking behind me. Two days ago, I almost took a swing at a jogger who came up behind me suddenly. Twice a day I walk through the park near my house, and it puts me on edge every time. But I do it, and I'm going to keep doing it.

Almost everyone knows the Roosevelt quotation at the top of this post, though it's often paraphrased as "There is nothing to fear but fear itself". Roosevelt was saying that we must not let our fears dominate us; that what we fear is often invented, exaggerated or simply not deserving of such fear. In the context of his first inauguration in 1933, it was meant to be a rallying cry-to encourage Americans, and indeed the world, to be strong in the face of depression, the rise in European fascism, and the unflinchingly bleak times that seemed to face the nation and the world. But I think it alludes to something even deeper than that. I think it means that you only fear what you choose to let yourself fear.

This is counterintuitive. Fear is a strong emotion, and it grips us at unexpected times, and seems to wrest control from our rationality. But we can control it, and we must control it. If you are afraid of heights, you should go to the observation level of the tallest building and peer out over the city below. Because we allow ourselves to fear things we shouldn't. And fear is strong-if we don't actively choose to not be scared, we will be forever mired in that fear. And it will rule us.

Even more counterintuitive: fear is good. Fear tells us when we're about to do something stupid. Ultimately it was our ancestors who were scared of sabretooth tigers who lived long enough to produce offspring, leading to ourselves. So, we need fear. But we need to allow fear to do its job, without it keeping us from doing ours. Some things we should be scared of (sabretooth tigers, for example). But some fears are merely the by-product of an irrational response to that which we feel we are unable to control, or that which is unknown, or poorly understood. A healthy respect for heights is good-it keeps you from jumping off roofs like Keanu Reeves in The Matrix. But there is no reason to be scared of the height when you are safely ensconced in the interior of a skyscraper-you are not going to fall and that fear will limit what you can do. Similarly, a fear of snakes and spiders is quite rational in the Amazon, where poisonous varieties of both abound. In Britain or Canada, the fear is irrational, and simply a result of the "fight or flight" mechanism hard-coded into our brains.

Fight or flight, as alluded to above, allowed our ancestors to survive. It was instinctual-you just react. When you're confronted with a sabretooth tiger or a cobra, you don't have time to think-just flee. That's how you survived. But we're better than that now. We have moved past the need to be controlled on instincts; every day we forego what our animal brain tells us in favour of doing the right thing, the logical thing; we make rational choices based on the available information, beyond what our subconscious instructs us to do. Yet, too often, we yield to fear.

I'll say it again: we only fear those things we choose to let ourselves fear. You can confront your fears, and you should-it is this process that lets us live our lives devoid of irrational panic and fear. Because we've all seen what crippling fear can do to a society. We see it every day in the guise of the "War On Terror". The War on Terror is an excellent tool for control, by both sides. Those that employ tactics of terror do so because a society living in abject fear cannot function, and there is little that is more disruptive to our lives. So, attacks are made in just the right way-public places, hidden weapons, something that could "get" you, rather than attacking soldiers, who know and accept the risk. And the government is complicit in this. Whether it's a colour-coded "How scared should I be?" system, or constant talk of poorly-defined, nebulous "evil-doers", the fear that is perpetuated ensures that the government is relieved of their greatest responsibility-the stewardship of the countries they lead. When people fear for their lives at the hands of a bearded spook, taxes, scandals and corruption seem less important. Nothing is more revelatory than the phrase "If we ......., the terrorists win" (whatever the ..... represents). Because every time that phrase is uttered, the terrorists have won; because we're talking about them, we're thinking about them, and we're scared of them. The only way to truly "win" is to continue on as if nothing has changed-to choose to not fear.

More often, though, the fear is more subtle. It's a fear of being hurt, physically, emotionally or spiritually. We've been hurt in the past, and rather than confront that pain, we just avoid the situation that put us there. But nothing worth doing ever came easily. You don't learn to ride a bike without falling and hurting yourself. But when you fall, you get back up, dust yourself off, and try again. And you learn. Learn what you did wrong, correct those errors, and try again.

I have learned that I can't listen to my iPod while alone, at night, in dangerous areas. It was an expensive lesson, but one which will make me better equipped for my continued life in a big city like Manchester. But I will not change where I walk-I could avoid the park, I could avoid the subway under the highway that's so often full of undesirable elements of society-it wouldn't even add that much time to my trip home. But I won't. Because I will not let them win. I will choose to not be scared-the jumpiness will pass. You cannot live without risk-to do so is to obviate everything that makes us human; it is suicide. Fear is good, but only when you're in control. Take risks, learn from your mistakes, but above and beyond anything else, get up, dust yourself off, and try again. Own your fear.

Security is mostly a superstition. It does not exist in nature, nor do the children of men as a whole experience it. Avoiding danger is not safer in the long run than outright exposure. Life is either a daring adventure, or nothing.

-Helen Keller

Incentives in economics and love

OK, ladies and gentlemen, we're going to take a break from the typical "Here's what's going on in Dan's life" post, to talk a little bit about economics. Specifically, incentives. This has come up recently in a few different ways for me (once through traditional business analysis, once relating to relationships), and it's something that I feel needs to be understood by the world at large.

The fundamental theory of economics is that everyone will do what's in their own best interest, financially. Economic theory then states that this will lead to greater efficiencies. For example, if two airlines are competing and one of them finds a way to reduce the fuel they use, they will do it. Not because it's the right thing to do on any abstract, intrinsic, moral level (e.g. environmentalism). But because it will save them money, and thus add to their bottom line. This results in greater efficiences, because companies will strive to reduce cost in any way they can. Therefore, El-Cheapo airlines will evaluate their options (direct vs. layover flights, multiple stops on one flight vs. multiple flights with one stop). They'll look at which method customers prefer, and how much fuel is consumed by each method. They'll figure out which one gets them the most passengers per litre of fuel used and go with that one. The end result is that each airline goes for the most efficient plan they can devise, based on customer preference and fuel use. They use less fuel, and customers get what they want-everybody wins. The company that is less efficient gets fewer customers or uses more fuel (or both) and thus makes less money and eventually collapses.

Another major effect that has an impact on economics is external costs (also called negative externalities). This came up in a debate I was in last weekend, related to airlines costs (which is why I mention it now). The basic premise is this: the cost of your airline ticket is really only a portion of the true, full cost. The true cost is the total sum of the internal and external costs. The internal costs are what the company has to pay-buying the airplanes, buying the fuel, paying staff, etc. The price of your airline ticket reflects these internal costs (plus a markup of course, to generate profit).

But there's another cost: external costs. External costs are things like the environment. Because private companies don't have to pay to clean up the environment. If it's cheaper to pollute like crazy, companies will do it. Because if they don't, their competitor will; this will make their competitor's product cheaper, everyone will buy that product, and the environmental company goes under. This is where the government has to step in.

I believe in the power of the free market, but I am also well aware of its failings; one of those failings is attention to the environment and the health and welfare of people in general, and it is here that (light-handed) government regulation is necessary for the market to operate efficiently, without destroying us and the planet. And the best way to do this is to internalise those external costs. Because if a company has to pay for all costs, it will bring the efficiency-boosting power of the markets to bear on environmental and social concerns. There are two examples of this, I wish to illustrate: computer recycling and carbon credits.

Computer recycling laws have begun to be examined in various places (such as the WEEE Directive). The basic premise is that computer manufacturers should have to contribute some money to the government to cover the cost of disposing of the waste that computers eventually become (this is especially pertinent to computers given the short life-cycle of these devices and the hazardous and expensive-to-recycle components they use). Without such laws, the companies have no incentive to pay extra to recycle their products. Let's say that the computer market consists solely of CompX and CompY. If CompX tacks on an additional $100 to the price of their computers, to cover the cost of recycling, and CompY doesn't, CompY's product suddenly become $100 cheaper. Way more people buy a CompY, CompX goes out of business and now the only manufacturer is the one who didn't (and still doesn't) recycle. Therefore, there is no incentive for one company to do such a costly, albeit moral, move. So, the government steps in, mandates that all companies must pay for the actual cost of recycling their product. Therefore, not only does it not give one company an advantage (and thus, a reason not to do it), but it also gives them an incentive to make their products more recyclable, so they have to pay less to the government.

Carbon Credits work to internalise the cost of air pollution. Companies can buy, sell and trade the right to pollute a certain amount. Therefore, if a company wishes to use a process that results in a lot of air pollution, it costs them a lot of money. Furthermore, if many companies wish to do so, it costs even more, since the high demand for these credits will cause the price to skyrocket. Carbon credits therefore, make the companies look for ways to reduce their greenhouse-gas emissions. Not because it's good for the environment per se, but because it will save them money, by not needing to buy carbon credits. The carbon credits simply provide an incentive for the companies to care about the external cost.

What's the common theme here, and how does it relate to relationships, as I mentioned in the opening paragraph of this tirade? Well, the common theme is incentives. In an ideal world, companies would do the right thing, and consumers would buy only from comapnies that did the right thing. Neither of these are true, and to posit otherwise is folly. Ultimately, the overwhelming majority of people will do what's in their best interests (read: cheaper, easier and more successful). If you wish to affect change, you have to provide incentives, not moralising and wishing things would be better. Economics is (as is science, though that's another rant for another day) fundamentally amoral. Note that this is different from being immoral. Immoral means that you make decisions counter to morality; amoral means you make decisions regardless of morality. In the context of economics, economic theory does not make value judgements vis-a-vis what is intrincially "right" or "wrong". Rather, it observes human nature and says that most people will generally make decisions that are the best for them and that it is therefore personal incentives that are the most effective agents of change.

So... relationships. The second thing that triggered this rant was the following little note, posted to a female friend's facebook blog:

Find a guy, who calls you beautiful instead of hot.
Who calls you back when you hang up on him.
Who will stay awake just to watch you sleep.
Wait for the guy who kisses your forehead.
Who wants to show you off to the world when you are in your sweats.
Who holds your hand in front of his friends.
Wait for the one who is constantly reminding you of how much he cares about you and how lucky he is to have you.
Wait for the one who turns to his friends and says, "...that's her."

yes yes...i know...impossible but maybe...just maybe....awww...who knows.....one day....maybe...

I've heard this refrain, or others shockingly similar, many many times. And it infuriates me. Because, aside from being slightly whiny, it completely misconstrues the way the world works, and lays blame in entirely the wrong place. Because it's not the male gender's fault that so many guys are jerks, and treat women badly; I blame women for this. Because you have failed, time and again to provide incentives. Because the guy described above, that wonderful, ethereal, impossible-to-find guy? He exists. He exists in greater numbers than you realise, and he's generally single. Because every girl who says she wants what's described above dates jerks. Not because they're jerks, but because they're confident, strong, exciting and charismatic. All excellent qualities, but all too often paired with boorishness, misogyny and manipulativeness. Now, I understand that in many cases, such guys hide it well. But in as many, or more, cases, it's painfully obvious. And yet these guys still get girls. Over and over, far outstripping the success of the guys described in the wistful passage above. So, the shitty guys proliferate.

And why shouldn't they? They've been given the keys to the castle, the ultimate incentive. Whether they merely want sex or whether they want actual dating, the guys I describe as "jerks" (and I understand the archetypical nice guy/jerk dichotomy is oversimplified) get what they want. And women are baffed. It's not even limited to complete jerks-I've seen intelligent, clear-thinking, attractive, sane women go out with guys with whom they have nothing in common, with whom they cannot even carry on the simplest of conversations, and guys whom they do not trust. These same women are them baffled as to why they are so unsuccessful with men, and tend to conclude, banally, that "all men are jerks". WRONG. Many many are jerks. And you've just rewarded them for being so. You have provided every incentive for them to continue being jerks, because it brings them unprecedented success. You have completely failed to internalise the cost of being a jerk, and have inexplicably expected them to change their ways independent of any push to do so. It. Won't. Happen.

The solution is simple: if you just want sex, fine. Hook up with the jerks, leave them when you get bored, and move on. But if you want more, if you want what my quoted passage describes, don't settle. Don't settle for the guy who treats you like crap; ignore the guy who never calls or won't introduce you to his friends. Because all you're doing is encouraging the development and broader spreading of those exact characteristics you abhor. If you dig deep and truly do want a decent guy, then think about the guys you've overlooked. Because somewhere in that mix is a guy who will actually treat you well; chances are you passed over him years ago for an oafish lout who (shockingly) never turned into the wonderful guy you dream of.

Sigh.... because being robbed once isn't enough!

So, I've been robbed again. This time, though, I wasn't broken into. I was mugged. Two guys grabbed me from behind while I was walking through the park near my house. I was listening to my iPod and walking home (given the dodginess of this area, not a really good idea, I know), when I was attacked from behind and knocked down. I tried to fight back, but they had the element of surprise. Plus, despite what action movies will tell you, a 2-to-1 advantage is almost insurmountable in a fight. If your name isn't Clark Kent, and the two people aren't children, you're basically screwed. So, though I fought as best I could, the ultimately convinced me (through many facial punches), to give up trying and hand over my cash (all of £15-20! Score for them!). They also managed to make off with my PDA (a Sony Clié NR70V) and my Leatherman. I'm OK, and it could have been much worse-aside from beating me up more than they did do, they could've taken my iPod or my phone (I'm actually surprised they didn't). But still, eneded up posing about £100 worth of stuff I probably can't afford to replace and getin my face scratched up. Not my most fun night!

Now, in fairness, it was stupid of me to walk alone at night, listening to my iPod through a moderately risky part of the city. But this still pisses me off. These guys are basically cowardly vultures, waiting for a quick and easy strike. I wish I'd had the togetherness to fight back better, or probably even better, had gotten home earlier and thus avoided the whole mess. Because aside from being pissed off, it's now made me jumpy everywhere I go, and doubly so in that park, which I have to walk through twice a day. This is my home, you should be able to feel safe in your home area.

My Visit Home-pt. 2: Family, Friend and Fun

Continued from part one...

The other part of my trip home was much cheerie, since it didn't involve death. That part was seeing my friends. I have many friends with whom I keep in touch back home, and I was able to see almost all of them during my time back.

Just so we're clear on the time-frame, it went like this: I arrived home late Sunday night. I had all day Monday to myself, then flew out to British Columbia early Tuesday morning. I flew back to Hamilton very late Thursday night and stayed in Ontario until Wednesday afternoon, when I drove into Toronto and then flew home.

On Monday, Shane came down and we went out to East Side's. I miss bar and grill restaurants like East Side's-it's an entire class of restaurants that just doesn't exist in the U.K. But even more than that, I miss Shane. Shane and I were so close in undergrad we were periodically accused of being "more than friends", often by our respective girlfriends, who were clearly just jealous. Anyway, it was like old times, and was great. We ate (far less than we used to-yay for weight loss!), caught up and just chilled. Shane's doing a business postgrad at the University of Waterloo, which he loves and told me all about, and I filled him in on the ever-exciting world of nanoscale semiconductor physics. He stayed awake throughout the entire thing, because he's a good friend, and also a huge nerd like me.

After my tip to B.C. for the memorial (see part 1, above), I had crunch time for seeing my friends. Friday evening was spent with just my family; I then went up to Guelph to visit an old flame, G. I then split my remaining time into three portions.

Saturday was my replacement Christmas dinner with my family and a few friends. Specifically, Dana, my long-time girlfriend from undergrad came down with her current boyfriend, Nick. Shane and his girlfriend Michelle (with whom I'm also close) and Su (one of my few remaining close friends from high school) and her boyfriend Rob rounded out the lot. My mom prepared a proper Christmas dinner-turkey, mashed potatoes, gravy, the whole shooting match. It was very good, and everyone enjoyed themselves, both during the meal and after. There are a ton more photos, but I won't inundate this post with them. Again, it was fantastic to catch up with everyone again. Most are still in some form of school, or transitioning from one form to another (i.e. Dana, who is to start a postgrad in Australia this coming February-very exciting!). The atmosphere was both truly gregarious, and it really did feel like being home.

Sunday saw people trickle in starting in early afternoon, and progressing on to a dinner out. Because I was not making my mom cook, I had a few more people come down. So, the final tally was Kirill & Emily, Adam & Christine, Joy & Heather, Jamie and Brian & his fianée, Natalia. Dave was supposed to make it, but his car died. We chatted at my place for awhile, then went out for another nice bar-and-grill meal. Again, it was nice to get some face time again. In many cases on both days, the people with whom I was visiting were those with whom I'd kept in touch through email, instant-messaging or whatnot. but it's always different when you get a chance to sit down and just talk.

Finally, I went into Toronto with Kirill & Emily on Sunday night, and stayed there until Tuesday. This gave me more time with them, plus Brian, Wayne, Steven and Desiree. Lenita had been scheduled to join us, but unfortunately the factory at which she's chief engineer had massive problems (somebody crashed a forklift, which is pretty funny, if you ask me), so I wasn't able to connect up with her. Which is sad, but I have no doubt we'll connect soon enough. I've just gotta convince her to drag her ass over to the right-hand side of the Atlantic. When I came back from that, I met up with Howard, one of my longest-standing friends, and the guy with whom I was arguably the closest through many parts of high school.

WARNING: PHILOSOPHICAL PONTIFICATION AHEAD
OK, so here, as the bard says, is the rub: I've been gone for over a year, and it's been nearly that long since I was last home. Thus, with this trip comes a taking-stock. Because this is obviously a major turning-point-time for most people. Within the first few years post-undergrad, people's lives change. Nowhere is this more evident that amongst my friends. During the time I was back, I spent time with one married couple, four engaged couples and three long-term (one-year or more) couples, plus one member of an engaged couple (and thankfully for my sanity, three single people). Within these twenty people, the majority have careers (not just jobs), many now own their own houses, cars and so forth, and the majority are well and truly on their way to living the rest of their lives. This gives me an interesting perspective, as I'm still seemingly mired in academia, and also gives me an opportunity for intro- and retrospection.

Even those friends that are still in some phase of school seem to have some sort of focus and direction, a rudder to help steer their sails. While this may be naught but an illusion, it provides stark contrast to the way I feel about my current direction. A strange thing happened as I got older-I became less sure of myself, or perhaps I simply can now realise how uncertain I'd always been. In undergrad, I thought I had it all figured out-I wanted success, power, money. I wanted to be the leader of my field, always pushing myself harder for greater commercial and public success. Now, I'm not sure. So much seems like a question mark to me. I don't know exactly what I want to do with my degree. I don't know where I want to live my life. I don't know exactly what I want from that life.

Some things have become clearer to me. I have realised the importance of knowing what you want, and I realise now that it is this that university can help you define, more than anything else. I realise that happiness, and loving what you do is more important than I'd given it credit for. I'd long figured I'd work wherever and however I could make the most money. Now, I can better understand the importance of doing something for which you have passion. And most of all, it's become more important to me to have someone special in my life. I'd always surmised that friends, associates and acquaintances would be enough-and in many ways, they are. But there's still something missing. I'm not going to swell on this for too long, as I've been mulling over the wording for a long-overdue post on love and relationships that I will post soon; suffice it to say that it's something that's missing. And I feel that absence more than I used to.

So, does this worry me? Not really. Maybe it should, but I actually find it kind of refreshing. Much of my life has been an attempt to control my surroundings, under the false belief that I could do so. For maybe the first time, I have a direction, but am comfortable letting some things just happen. I know the major things I want out of life, and I'm finally relaxing enough to learn how to get them. I have good friends, I have some skills, and I am willing to work for what I want, when the situation arises. I may not know where I'll be in ten years; but I have a good feeling it'll be somewhere I like.

I know nothing except the fact of my ignorance.

-Socrates

My Visit Home-pt. 1: Morbid

I was recently home in Canada for ten days, from the 20th until the 30th of November. The reason for this journey wasn't a particularly cheery one: my grandmother (Dorothy James, nee Anderson) died in late November. That being said, it isn't as bad as it would seem, from that initial statement. This post deal with this rather morbid aspect of my trip.

Death is a funny thing, really. It's arguably the only thing that every person has in common, regardless of race, age, and any other circumstances. We will all die. It is inescapable, yet we fear it like almost nothing else. And it's always assumed to be a major tragedy. I understand why, but I'm not sure that this is either the healthiest approach, nor the most realistic.

In today's society, we have idealised life above and beyond everything else. Medical science seeks, at the expense of all else, to preserve and extend life. There is in our culture an inimitable fear of death. This is to be expected-death, aside from being the one thing we have in common, is also the one thing we can never truly understand. Simply put, nobody who's been properly dead (not just mostly-dead like Wesley in The Princess Bride) has ever been able to report back on what it's like. I'm excluding seances and Ouija boards here, and only counting real-world situations and occurrences.

So we fear death. And, as a natural consequence, we try to extend life, at all costs. But sometimes I think this goes to far; I think we have enshrined the concept of quantity of life, at the expense of quality of life. We have nursing homes full of people in pain, losing their minds, lonely and confused. Yet, we do everything possible to make sure they continue in this situation as long as possible. I'm not convinced this is the right move, for anyone concerned. The people themselves are often so confused, it's probably quite easy for them; those not actively in pain are probably so blissfully unaware of their surroundings that it's not a big deal for them either way. But I still have to wonder what kind of a life that is. And their families and friends bear an even bigger brunt of this deterioration. They are forced to witness their loved ones-previously vital, gregarious and full of life-descend into a shell of their formers selves-tired, confused and often without the dignity they so rightly deserve. I know that there's a large part of me that wishes my last memories of my grandmother's life weren't of her confined to bed, fully unaware of who she was, who we were or what was going on.

An extension to this is funeral services. I don't like morose, morbid, depressing funeral services. It is always a loss when someone you love dies. But no amount of crying will ever change that. Mourning is natural, and should occur. But I think that memorial services and funerals should be a celebration of life. Instead of looking at what you've lost, look at the time you had together. Don't mourn that this person is no longer with you-celebrate the years you had together. I've been to very few memorial services, but the ones I like are those where you tell stories about the deceased; you laugh, you cry a little, but in the end, you realise how truly blessed you were for the time you had together. These are beautiful occasions and are, to me, what all memorials should be like. Everyone touches the lives of others in different; my experience of my grandmother was very different from my father's, which was very different from my mother's, and so on. And it's wonderful to get to hear about all these different people whose lives are better for having known my grandmother.

I'm not sad that my grandmother passed away. I'm sad that she's no longer in my life; I'm sad that she won't see me get my Ph.D., will never be able to attend my wedding (if and when I get married), and that I won't get to hear her laugh any more, or chat with her over tea. But I'm not sad she died. My grandmother was 93 years old; she lived a long life, she lived a good life and she went peacefully in her sleep. We could all do a lot worse.

I have to remind myself that some birds aren't meant to be caged. Their feathers are just too bright. And when they fly away, the part of you that knows it was a sin to lock them up does rejoice. Still, the place you live in is that much more drab and empty that they're gone.

-The Shawkshank Redemption

See part two...

Yay for home invasions

In my life, I've had comparatively few encounters with criminal elements of any kind. I had my bike stolen when I was 13 or so, I've seen the odd fight and whotnot, but generally, not much. My first real encounter was yesterday.

I'd been working late, developing the debate society's website (for the tournament coming up in March). As a result, it was about 2:30 before I actually managed to drag my already-tired carcass into bed. Shortly thereafter, I heard some noises outside my room that sounded like movement, either from my flat or from the flat above. When I arose from bed, and put my glasses on, I also noticed light from the kitchen, where I had previously turned it off.

When I opened my door (aluminum alloy MagLite flashlight in hand), it became clear I was not being paranoid. I saw a fleeting figure beating a hasty retreat out of my house. On following him to my balcony, I noticed another, ahead of his compatriot and already around the corner; he was largely out of my sight.

In the end, these guys, who had likely come in via the far-too-frequently-unlocked balcony sliding door, grabbed almost nothing of value. They got a very old digital camera of mine, a broken cell phone ofmy flatemate's, and her credit cards, which she canceled immediately. So, in the end it was a slightly scary wakeup call, that we need to be more serious about security-notably using the security gate by the balcony door and always locking the front door. And it could have been worse.

But there's still something violating about an invader in your house. I'm more sentimental than I'll admit to most of my friends (though apparently not random internet people who stumble across my blog). My home is my sanctuary. It's my place. It where, at the end of the day, I don't have to worry about anything, unless I choose to. That's why I moved out of halls: I wanted a place that was truly "mine". And a big part of that is the settling I feel in this place. And very little is more shattering to that illusion of security and sanctity than having a stranger break in.

There's a part of me that wishes I'd been faster, and had had a chance to beat the theif unconscious with my Maglite. There's obviously a big part of me that wishes it had jsut never happened, and they'd picked another house about which to be opportunistic. But, ultimately, I just feel betrayed and violated in a way I haven't felt in a long time. This is my house. How dare he?

Novelty Music

I've never really had any real consistency to the music I like. It's been largely mainstream, but otherwise has spanned genres from Heavy Metal to Celtic Folk Rock (or wherever Great Big Sea fits in), punk, dance, electronica and so forth. However, a friend of mine once pointed out that there was one theme: I like novelty music.

What does this mean? Well, I'm a big Weird Al Yankovic fan, for starters, and-more recently-Richard Cheese. But beyond that, I have a strange and (even to me) inexplicable draw to covers of songs. I have dozens of tracks on my iPod that are techno remixes of something that was never designed to be an electronic song (Beethoven's 5th, The theme song to Titanic, Phantom of the Opera, etc.) and a variety of punk covers (including Mrs. Robinson, Hotel California, Barbie Girl, Baby Got Back and so forth). One of my top-rated songs is a bluegrass/country/folk-rock cover of Snoop Dogg's Gin And Juice (really).

I'm not really sure why I like these so much-I'll often prefer the covers to the original tracks. I think that it's because I find it fascinating to see how someone can take a work of art and reinterpret it to something wholly different, yet referential to that original. Plus, if there's a song that I don't really like (e.g. Gin And Juice), I may well like the genre into which it's been interpreted. I just think it's a cool way to do things.

Anyway, needless to say, I am all but addicted to this. And I feel the need to share its wonderment.

First year report, new family member and the first debate tournament

So, there are three major events that have taken place since I last posted.

First News
The first is my progression to my second year, and thus my official entrance into my Ph.D. program. In the UK, the way it works (at least for many departments, including my own) is that when you're admitted into a Ph.D. program you technically start out in a Master's program (M.Phil). After your first year, you do a transfer report (detailing what progress you've made in the past year, and your plans for future work) and an oral defense.

I did this in the middle of September. My report was a monster of a report (90 pages, 20,000+ words), but was well-received, as was my oral defense. So, all in all, it went very well. There are definitely some areas in which I need serious work, but I'm getting there. However, this means that I really have to bear down, now. I was able to scrape by with having done quite little in my first year; the same sense of slackerdom won't fly this year. I realise the irony of saying this on my blog when I'm supposed to be working, but there you have it.

The point is that I'm very excited because I'm now officially a Ph.D. student (now that the fancy new online registration system has stopped screwing up so massively) and, once I get my funding issues with the system solved, will be well and truly into my second year. I've booked in some time this Wednesday on our fancy-pants £1million FIB (focused ion beam) machine, so I get to try and drill some itty-bitty holes into the oxide layers on my sample. Very cool.

Second News
The second piece of news is that I'm now a first cousin, once removed. My cousin Ben, in cooperation with his lovely wife Jutta, has managed to reproduce. Jason Connor St. John was born on September 23rd (about ten days early, if I recall), and everyone seems to be healthy, happy and doing well (though I suspect that by this point, Ben and Jutta's sleep deprivation has reached epic levels). While I'm not a proponent of me having kids, I know this is something to which they've been looking forward for some time, so it's great to hear that they've gone and done it. Sort of ruined my plans to go visit them for Oktoberfest, since apparently having a drunk and full-of-sausage university student passed out on your floor isn't high on the list of priorities for most 9-months-pregnant ladies or brand new mothers. Yeesh, some people, eh?

Third and final (for now) news
We went to the first debating tournament of the year this past weekend. President's cup, hosted by University College London is a novice-only tournament, and is always the first tournament of the year. Manchester sent a big contingent this year-6 teams, and as many judges. We competed, we partied, we had a great time. And the novices we sent kicked serious ass! We had five teams come first in the first round (each debate has four teams, so any team can come from first to fourth), we had two teams make it to the semi-finals (Catriona/Mady and Chellsie/Hannah), and one of those two (Chellsie/Hannah) made it to the finals. Mere words cannot express the pride we feel for these guys. We watched the semis and finals and they were fantastic. Our novices really came through, and I cannot wait to see them continue this trend going forward. The MDU's legacy is safe and secure in the hands of these indominable debaters. Well done, all, you've blown us all away.

Motivation

It's a funny thing, motivation. It seems so simple, yet proves itself thoroughly elusive to so many.

As many of you who read this blog will know, I'm neck-deep in my year-end report right now. And this thing is huge; it basically decides whether I stay in my Ph.D. for two more years or flunk out and get deported. It's easily in the top three most important documents of my educational life. I had this entire weekend earmarked to getting it done.

And I've done.... nothing. Well not quite nothing, but not far off. On Saturday, I went to the gym, I helped Sabrina edit her dissertation and Dan and I worked on some stuff for debating. So at least then, I had a somewhat legitimate excuse for my non-productivity, though in reality, there were many hours I could've (and clearly should've) been working.

But today? Other than grocery shopping, and some cleanup around the house, I've done almost nothing of value. I've watched episode after episode of Friends, each time telling myself this would be the last one. I've done cleanup around the house that really didn't need to be done (I swear, my house is never cleaner than when I've got something huge due!).

I wish I knew why I can't focus. This thing is huge; it literally is a lynch pin towards my future. And yet, every time I sit down at the keyboard to do some more writing, I do something unrelated, and unproductive. I want to get this done; I'm just tired. And for some reason, I just can't get down to it. And I wish I knew why. Because I have no real excuse. Yeah, I'm tired, yeah I've got some other stuff on my mind, but so what? This is nothing new for myself or anyone else. There must be some deeper reason. However, until I can find that reason, I just need to sack up and get this done. I just wish I could do so as easily I can talk about doing so.

Fire in Manchester

There was a large fire in Manchester today; well, specifically Salford. Looking out my window at about 3:30PM, I saw the area of the city north of me blanketed by a massive plume of dark black smoke. I climbed up to the roof of my office building to get a better view, but couldn't really see anything clearly.

The fire raged until about 4:30 or so, when it seemed to die down. Upon investigation, it turns out to have been caused by an explosion in an industrial tanker vehicle. Still, it a pretty crazy thing to see. I wasn't at home when the Hamilton Plastimet Fire went on, so I've never actually seen anything like this.

In the end, it looks like nobody was hurt or killed, though one person is still missing, as of the last news report. And of course, it thankfully has nothing to do with terrorism. After this past week's airport-related fun and games, everyone is a bit on edge. No doubt, had this fire been the result of another terror plot, we could have all but said goodbye to our civil liberties for the foreseeable future.

Anyway, in the end, all is well. Though I haven't seen any official report regarding the extent of the damage in today's explosion and fire, it certainly seems to have been contained fairly quickly. All in all, though an eerie thing to witness, it could have ended much, much worse.

Long-overdue update

Greetings all. My apologies for not writing for some time; I'd love to claim a legitimate excuse, but sadly procrastination and laziness are the sole reasons I can come up with. Anyway, some major changes have gone on since my last update.

In late May and early June, my parents and brother came over to visit me in in Jolly Old England. They stayed in Manchester for a few days, then went to York, Edinburgh, Inverness, other parts of Scotland and finally back to Manchester. I joined them for the York and Edinburgh portions of the trip.

York was very nice, albeit pretty touristy. It's a fairly small town dominated by one of the largest cathedrals I have ever seen. Truly a monument to the wealth and prosperity of medieval Christianity, York's Cathedral was, for a long time, the centre of British Christianity. And it shows-the cathedral is nothing if not massive and ostentatious. Including the excavated foundations, the cathedral takes several hours to tour and absorb. Stained glass adorns every wall, gold leaf, carved stone and wood and rich velvet abound, and the message is made abundantly clear: "God is good, so come worship or he'll smite your ass!" (I'm paraphrasing here, but that's the gist of the message.

As for the town itself, York smacks of tourism. Because it is a comparatively small town, whose primary source of revenue is the steady stream of tourists flocking to see the towers, cathedral and classical architecture, each street is lined with the archetypal mark of any tourist town: kick-knack shops, restaurants and trendy pubs, and street vendors galore. That being said, I should not that we did constrain ourselves largely to the centre of town; I have subsequently spoken to people who either grew up in York, or studied there. If they are to be believed (and I see no reason to doubt their statements), there is a real city outside the tourist centre, which is both quaint and pleasant.

Edinburgh was the next stop, and this was a city I truly enjoyed. Though the tourist industry is omnipresent in certain areas here (notably the landmark castle and its surrounding environs), the city is both large and diverse enough that the effect is less noticeable. Furthermore, the city maintains a nice air of being busy and modern, yet friendly and historic. Unlike York, it feels like a city in which people live and go about their daily lives, despite the presence of centuries of history.

While in the city, we toured the castle (under British Law, I'm fairly certain it's illegal to visit Edinburgh and NOT go to the castle at least once). While I cannot claim an intimate knowledge of castles and their relative merits, I must say that this one is truly a spectacle to behold, and a shining specimen of what a castle should be. It ranks high on my personal list, bested perhaps by only Chambord on the banks of the Loire river in France. The castle, it's inner chambers, cannons (including the apparently famous Mons Meg super-cannon) and high walls give it a daunting presence. The intricacy of the masonry shows an amazing attention to detail and it's easy to see how the castle was able to serve as both a symbol of power, and a defensive structure, securing the might of its occupants (give or take a few invasions and infiltrations here and there.

In addition, we hiked up to Arthur's Seat, the highest point in Edinburgh. We had previously attempted the climb, but had picked the wrong path up the hill on which Arthur's Seat rests and had ended up at the base of a precipice below the summit itself. So, it was not until a few days later that my dad, brother and I climbed all the way to the top. From here, the view is breathtaking, as one can see for miles surrounding the peak. It was also very windy and a little vertigo-inducing (especially given the uneven footing). Also, while we were up there, we got to see Prince Charles' private helicopter land at Holyrood Palace (where His Royal Highness was staying during our time in Edinburgh), pick him up and depart-isn't that exciting?

At this point, my family and I split ways. They continued on to Inverness and tours of the north-east of Scotland, while I returned to Manchester for some tours of my office, and the exciting world of academic papers. It was a heady experience, let me tell you. Upon my family's return, we spent a few more days in Manchester, I gave them a tour of the building in which I work and some of the facilities I use. My parents and I also met with Prof. Peaker, my supervisor. After all of this, they were off, bound for Canada once more.

It was great to be able to see my family again, and to give them a sense of both the work I'm doing and the city in which I live. It was great to see all the various sights, and to catch up with them to an extent which is difficult to achieve without physical presence (even videoconferencing fails to attain the same effect). I'm not sure when I'll be home next-possibly Christmas, likely no sooner-so it was great to be able to connect up with them again.

The second big thing is a slight shift in the focus of my research, and the rapidly-looming deadline for my first-year report. The research shift is minor but very significant. It's difficult to explain without getting too technical, but basically I will be looking at the same phenomenon I was before, but manifested in a different material. I am studying Quantum Dots, and had previously been looking at those based on "3-5" semiconductors such as Gallium-Arsenide and Indium-Arsenide. Instead, I will be looking at single-atomic semiconductor crystals such as Silicon and Germanium. This allows for some interesting potential areas of research, including possibly using the university's focussed ion-beam apparatus (FIB) to create quantum dots of fixed size. So, I'm optimistic about where this can lead my Ph.D. in the coming years.

The scary facet of my research is the first-year report, which is menacing on the horizon. Basically, in most British Ph.D.s, you are technically accepted into a Masters program (a M.Phil). After one year, you present a lengthy report (about 100 pages) and often a verbal interview, of the work conducted so far, the literature studied and the proposed direction for future work. For me, this report is due in early September. I have no real results (due to both procrastination and time wasting and a range of errors I will not elucidate at the moment). So, I have my work cut out for me for the next few weeks. I believe I can succeed at this, but I need to be exponentially more focussed than I have been thus far. My report will be without quantifiable results, which means I will need a thorough literature review and proposal for future endeavours. Which means I have to get off my ass and start writing.

Finally, the last biggest change has been my living arrangements. I have finally, after much searching, and a truly Murphy's Law-esque series of events, found a satisfactory place to reside for the coming year (assuming I don't fail out and get deported). There is an overlap of about a month between when I took possession of this new place (about a week ago) and the end of my current lease. Therefore, I will be moving in progressively, a backpack-load at a time. I have already started, and have moved many of my possessions there already, but will likely not move in for a few more weeks, at least. It's a nice place, and reasonably well-located, although it's a bit more expensive than I'd hoped for. Still, months of searching wore down my resolve, and my willingness to compromise skyrocketed. And, to be honest, I really like the place in which I'll be living, so all's well that ends well.

So, that about brings you up-to date. It's been unusually nice here (we had a good two solid weeks of hot sunshine, which was great), I'm continuing with my gym program (now down 50 pounds from my heaviest weight!), a lot of my friends are gone for the summer, so it's a bit quiet, but still nice. I will try to be better at keeping everyone up-to-date going forward (if for other reason than to avoid really long updates like this one), but I make no guarantees over the next two months. When my first-year report and oral defense are done, I'll be much better at updating, I hope. Until then, I hope all is well with all of you and as always, I'm perpetually happy to receive updates as to your status.

Alright, enough of that

OK, I don't know what's come over me recently. But whatever it is has not been a good thing. I know I've been acting like a whiny dick, and I know people have noticed. Well, fuck that, I'm done.

I'm a firm believer in taking responsibility for your own actions, and this is no exception. Whatever triggered this (everyone getting ready to go home, worries about the status of my research as my first-year report looms on the horizon, whatever), is no fucking excuse. I've been whiny and self-involved and nobody likes that guy.

So, from here on out, no more. I was doing well most of this year, and have slipped lately. I'm going back. For those of you who have noticed this, I apologise; please rest assured it was nothing to do with you. It was me, and it was stupid to let it affect those around me. It won't happen again. Things are good, and from here on out, I'm gonna be nothing but sunshine and kittens (with the odd bout of overt hostility just to keep people on their toes, but point being no more whininess!)

This time of year

I can never decide whether I hate this time of year, or love it. On the plus side, it's great to see the weather get nice again (or in the case of Manchester, less-ugly). I love seeing everything burst into bloom, the return of green, and of course, it's always nice when girls abandon their bulky sweaters for T-shirts, sun-dresses and tank tops. This was even more pronounced back in Canada-when you've had five months of huge parkas, seeing a tank top again is like a gift from God.

The downside is that everybody leaves. This, of course, will change once out of university, but in the meantime, late spring is the point where I go from having a pile of people I can call at any moment for the purpose of evening sojourns, to having just a few. This always bums me out, and I hate that aspect of this time of year.

What bugs me even more is that it seems, to me, totally unnecessary. People scamper home so soon after the end of the school year, in order to spend the summer with their families and work summer jobs-invariably crappy, minimum-wage jobs. Now, I have nothing wrong with wanting to see your family, I totally get that. But why this perverse rush to sacrifice independence and work at a crappy job? I mean, you spend all year wanting to be able to spend time with your friends without the threat of classes and exams hanging over you, and when that opportunity presents itself, you run off? I have no doubt that there are crappy, low-aying jobs here you could get just as easily, and generally, most people are on year-long leases, so their houses/apartments are paid for over the summer anyway. Yes, you get free food and laundry at home, but at what cost? The loss of freedom to which you've grown accustomed? Is that really worth it?

I just wish more people stuck around, even if only for a few weeks. Summer shouldn't be so lonely.

Bringing everyone up-to-date

Doing this (blogging) is something that I've intended to do for awhile. In a way, it seems like the perfect method of keeping people up to date on what I'm doing. It doesn't require a ton of mass-mails, people can check when they want, I get to fiddle around with a piece of the tech world that I've somehow missed despite it becoming really huge, everybody wins. But, I'm a procrastinator at heart, so it got delayed, time and again. I'm going to try and keep updates somewhat frequent, however, so hopefully I'll actually follow through with my plans for a change. But don't hold your breath.

As for what to expect, I can only promise this much: I will be honest with my posts, but perhaps not share the whole truth. There will be some things I won't be ready to share with anyone who wanders by, and there may be things that involve other people in my life that I will be unwilling to divulge right away. But nothing I post will be a lie, and I will strive to be open about as much as I can.

So, let's get everyone up to speed, shall we? For those keeping track at home, I moved from Southern Ontario, Canada to Manchester, England in September 2006. I'm currently doing a Ph. D. in Electrical and Electronic Engineering at the University of Manchester and am living in student halls. The program is a 3-4 year course, so ideally I should be done in late summer or early fall, 2008. Realistically, it may be early to mid 2009. After that, we'll see-my long-term plans are as yet, undetermined.

So, how's it been going? Well, there have been ups and downs, as I suppose is to be expected. Since coming here, I've met a number of very cool people, both through my program, my residence and largely through my extracurricular activities (i.e. debating). I've settled in pretty well, and am learning more and more about the city of Manchester, am generally able to find my way around town, and feel pretty comfortable with my surroundings.

Debating has gone well for me, and for the first time, I have had some quantifiable success. I debated in undergrad, but never made it to so much as the quarter-finals. Since being here, however, I have been on one winning team (where my partner and I were undefeated through four rounds plus the final), and have broken to quarters at the European championships in Berlin (my partner and I came 14th out of 168 teams, something we're pretty proud of, given the calibre of the competitors).

I've also done some travelling, both through debating, and independently. I've been as far afield as Portugal, Germany and Ireland, and as close as Livepool (don't worry, I didn't do myself the disservice of staying there, it was just fly out). I've seen Stonehenge and the Roman Baths in Bath, have stood atop the Reichstag in Berlin, and questioned the purpose of the Dublin spire (a giant metal spike in downtown Dublin. Weird).

Overall, I've loved living here. England is different from Canada, but not so different as to be totally baffling. Culturally there are enough similarities to keep things comfortable, with enough differences to keep things interesting. I've found the people to be amiable and affable, and (at least the ones with whom I've associated) have been intelligent and well-spoken, if a little right-leaning for my tastes (being a Canadian liberal and all that).

The downsides: the weather and my motivation. The weather here has actually been better than I'd expected, but only because this was apparently a fairly sunny year, as far as Manchester is concerned. Still, it rains often, is chilly often, yet lacks the metereological money shot that is a true winter or a true summer. Bland is a not-inaccurate description. Still, this is hardly the worst punishment in the world.

My motivation has been a much bigger issue. I've been "working" on my Ph. D. for eight months now, and if I were to attempt to quantify what I've done, I don't know if I could come up with anything substantial. Some of this is the fault of the university (especially early on, I had trouble getting any direction or access to equipment), but the overwhelming majority of the problem is mine. I just can't stay focused. I have background material to read, and I can't keep myself on-task. I have experiments I could be running, but can't focus long enough to do them, or analyse the data if I do. The topic I have interests me greatly, yet I am often consumed by a sense of ennui. I don't know why, and I wish I did. I keep telling myself that once I hit my stride, I'll be fine, and I do feel that to be true-I just wonder how long that will take.

My current concern is that the school year for the undergrads is winding down. Though I am a postgrad, most of my friends are undergrads-notably those from debating. As such, it is rapidly approaching one of my most loathed times of the year-the time when everyone scatters to the winds and I'm left largely alone. I can see it beginning already-people making plans to leave early and go home, many planning summer vacations, and those who are graduating planning their careers, inevitably away from Manchester. It's a fact of life, and to be expected, nonetheless something I wish I could avoid. Still, three of my closest friends will be here for the summer-NotARealScouser, NuclearD and RoseeGirl, so I'm sure I'll find ways to amuse myself.

The exciting thing for me at the moment, is that my parents (and possibly brother) are coming to visit in less than a week. They'll be in the UK from the 24th until June 6th, and I'm hoping that I can spend some good quality time with them, and possibly join them when they go to Edinburgh (in addition to Manchester, they're spending time in York, Edinburgh and Chester). This will, of course, cut into my web-browing.... er, Ph. D. researching.... time, but it'll be great to see them again-I haven't since Christmas.

So, that pretty much brings everyone up to date. As I say, I will try and add to this from time to time, so everyone can revel in the excitement, and/or stalk me, as they see fit. For now, all the best.

-Prometheus

Introduction to this blog

A little introduction:

If you do not know me, this blog will bore you completely. This is not an insightful blog, giving detailed analysis on politics, world events or culture, though I may yet delve into some of those subjects in my own time.

Rather, this is a blog for my friends and family. It's simply a way for them to keep up to date with what I'm doing and where I'm going. I will post my thoughts here, I will post descriptions of my travels, my trials and tribulations and anything else that seems relevant to me at the time.

As time goes on, I will no doubt mention a wide range of people in my writings. To enact some limited form of anonymity, I will use pseudonyms. As I do so, I will include a list of descriptions, a cast of characters if you will, so that anyone who views this site part-way through may have a little background.

By all means, read this as you will; but if you do not personally know me, do not expect anything too exciting. It's just one more page amongst millions, a personal site for those to whom I hopefully matter.