Monday 23 November 2009

Relationships: Part II

For all you Orwellian voyeuristic freaks interested in my date last Saturday it was, all in all, a success. The pessimist in me, however, was sure to make his presence felt.

I awoke on the morning in question with the somatic anxiety that I had hoped would have faded from the day before when I’d had an exam. Evidently I was equally nervous about the date as I was about the exam.

On the bus journey down into town familiar fatalist thoughts crept into my mind: Would I forget her name (it wouldn’t be the first time)? Would I spill hot tea over her (again, going over old ground here)? Would she not even show up (mercifully not based on experience)?

I queued and got a table at the restaurant – a health food restaurant as she’s a self-described ‘hippie-dippie-veggie’– and after a few tense minutes, to my relief and delight, a familiar face appeared in the doorway. Smiles, hugs, kisses on the cheek and fumbled seating etiquette ensued. I managed not to step on her feet but the poor lady standing behind me in the queue was less fortunate. Whoever you are, I apologise.

We ordered drinks – hot cordial for her and, tempting fate, tea for me – and settled into the conversation.

I had a thought, when the food came, that restaurants aren’t the best places to go on dates: Chatting over the (ideally, candle-lit) little table is all very well but as soon as the food arrives conversation either stops or becomes very awkward while you both try to eat and talk at the same time.

We seemed to cope, mainly by me asking questions and her covering her mouth and frantically clearing it of debris before answering. As a result I finished my fish finger sandwich long before her poached eggs were even half devoured.

After the meal I broke a cardinal rule of mine with regard to dating: we went to the cinema. I’ve never really liked going to the cinema on a date as I’ve always been conscious that the other person may not like the film we’d chosen.

As it turned out we both enjoyed it and it was a nice excuse to spend time with each other and not have to worry about conversation… or so I convinced myself later that evening, although I’m still not sold on the idea.

We parted in a bit of a rush. She was going on to meet a friend and I was catching the bus, so any urges to end the encounter with a kiss were hastily abandoned.

We kept each other virtual company by text on Sunday, expressing mutual feelings of wanting to be each other’s hot water bottle – a dead giveaway there’s something more than friendship on the cards.

Epilogue

I’ve moved back to London now (with no job and exams to revise for) and I find myself asking whether it’s all going to be worth it. London to Worthing isn’t exactly ‘long distance’ but we’ve barely scratched the surface of familiarity. She’s promised to visit, which is a comforting sign that she’s as into me as I think, and it’d be silly to abandon something that’s started so promisingly purely because of geography.

I wish we’d had more time as friends before leaping into something more. But, as a friend of mine told me: “You can’t always have it run as you think it should.” Could this be the mystery of love, that comes when you least expect it? If it’s not meant to be then it’ll fizzle out.

I keep asking myself: Why does there have to be such an uncomfortable phase between meeting someone and getting to the stage where you are entirely comfortable with each other’s company?

While we were sitting in the cinema and again walking down the street I found my hand hanging at my side in the vain hope that either she’d take it or I’d summon up the courage to take hers. How can such intimate thoughts of cuddling up on a sofa or meeting each other’s parents be running through my head when I’ve not even held her hand?

I guess it’s all part of the game…

Wednesday 18 November 2009

Relationships: part I

I won’t lie to you, it’s been a while… since I’ve been in a relationship.

I’ve never been one to rely on relationships to define who I am (I’m talking about the romantic kind) which is what I’m guilty of thinking of people who seem to flit from one emotional pillar to another.

I won’t be the first, though, to say that being in a stable relationship rocks and a lot of self-doubting bugbears are banished when you’re in one. All the issues regarding your opinion of yourself – am I too fat/thin/short/tall?; am I cultured enough?; are people put off by my excessive tidiness? – seem to become irrelevant when you find someone who likes you just the way you are.

The reason I bring this up is because I had the most energising night of interrupted sleep the other day. Having had a last minute offer to review a play that evening I hesitantly took up the offer, foregoing a physically and psychologically exhausting session of capoeira which, on reflection, wouldn’t have done my ego any good. What a good decision that turned out to be.

It turns out that the press officer who contacted me for the gig is a sweet, charming, eloquent and beautiful girl who has agreed to let me repay her the favour of offering me the gig with late lunch on Saturday. After staying up ‘til 1am writing the review, when I got into bed I couldn’t settle down with the thought of her running through my mind.

I barely knew her yet already in my mind I could form happy situations involving the two of us: holidaying in a rural cottage in Devon; arriving at a mutual friend’s birthday party as a couple; or curled up on the sofa watching Fred & Ginger films on our sofa in our quiet apartment on the south coast.

Of course, it’s early days and we may yet find that we’re completely incompatible for one reason or another. But for now I’m happy in my imaginary euphoria.

Only time will tell whether these figments of fervour will form through fantastic circumstance. Watch this space…

Art and Science: part I

Earlier this year on a family holiday to France I started to torment myself with the question of whether art or science affected society and, if so, to what extent? 'Did they affect each other', I wondered?

Many a civilised dinner conversation was turned into a debate about the various merits of both and amongst my family there were many opinions. I’d like to share, if I may, one of the conclusions that I’ve come to over the past six or seven months:

Art reflects society

Anyone who’s struggled through On Popular Music by Theodore Adorno will know this principle. He argues that in order to sell music as commodity it must be culturally relevant. Therefore the most successful music – commercially – is that which is most culturally relevant. We sometimes forget that Bach’s music, in its day, was ‘pop’; Bach was the Simon Cowell of the 18th century.

This still holds true: no-one buys music they don’t understand or relate to, unless they’re rather pretentious, and modern art (I’m talking abstract, cubism, post-modernism) only survives because it can be understood and appreciated by a majority of decision makers in the world, and who is a more influential decision maker today than the masses?

Art, therefore, cannot affect society as it is only a reflection of it, no? Wrong, because art is specific to a local society, not a global one. There are ‘uninfluenced’ people across the globe who would be inspired by this art. Even art within the same sphere can affect its kin: African music still inspires western musicians and has affected composition for years.

You’d have to be deaf to ignore the fusion styles that have emerged over the last 50 years. HMV seems to add a new genre of music every time I visit (not that often I must add) and specialist styles litter the internet, the greatest melting pot of creativity today.
As this world gets smaller due to improved communication and transport links the melting pot also gets smaller and art in general will become more homogenous. The crossover in music between the ability to write a symphony and compose a pop song is becoming more broadband: This year at the BBC Proms Goldie premiered his first orchestral composition and Michael Nyman has recently collaborated with soul singer David McAlmont.

I recently reviewed Alan Ayckbourn’s play Absurd Person Singular. In the press release was this quote from the playwrite:

As a nation we show a marked preference for comedy when it comes to play-going, as any theatre manager will tell you. At the same time, over a large area of the stalls one can detect a faint sense of guilt that there is something called enjoyment going on. Should we, people seem to be asked, be sitting here laughing like this? It’s to do with the mistaken belief that because it’s funny, it can’t be serious – which of course isn’t true at all. Heavy, no; serious, yes. In other words, it can be funny, but let’s make it truthful.

It’s this last part that I feel seals the deal for me. Art will not succeed if it’s not recognisably relevant to its audience.

Different societies, however, can and will continue to be affected by the art of other cultures in an ironic bid to become more 'cultured'.

Saturday 7 November 2009

Autumn Rocks!

I've been saving the sentiment of this blog for the perfect occasion. This morning provided such an occasion.

I love autumn. Winter's to cold; summer's too hot; spring's to optimistic. Autumn is, for me, the perfect combination of warm sun, cool air, occasional rain and nostalgia.

The colours in autumn are so much more vivid to me than at any other time of year. This cartoon (from xkcd) sums it up for me:



Autumn is a time when you make the effort to drive to somewhere you've already seen, just to see it at this time of year.

From past experience I always associate autumn with a new start. Almost invariably a new academic year, having worked in the education sector since I left my student role in it.

It is the perfect time to sit down and think about where you're at, what the next step is and how to make it happen. In winter all I'm thinking about is how to make the money last until after Christmas, and spring and summer are too jolly and action packed with holidays to really reflect.

I've always been convinced that the only way to enjoy autumn at it's best was to go for a long walk in the country, far away from traffic and urbanisation. But this morning I was equally happy just to drive from London to Brighton (not the most scenic route, I know) and enjoy the free flowing traffic and the blazing sun that destroys my retinas if I catch even a glimpse of it.

Today will be a good day...

Friday 30 October 2009

Self improvement

I have a confession to make... I'm not as good as I used to be. "In what way?" I hear you cry. Well, it struck me today that I've not done a serious piece of exercise since I moved to Brighton 7 weeks ago.

It's true, I've brought my bicycle along and I use it to get around every now and then, which does go some way to maintaining some level of fitness, but considering how active I used to be I've reached a new low.

I have, inevitably, come up with a theory (read: excuse) why this has happened. It's because I don't feel threatened. I don't feel like I have any competition, therefore I do not try to match/better another athlete.

For example, when I lived in Somerset I liked to think of myself as rather fit and active, but along came a new member of staff who competed at a national level in cycling, the sport I considered to be my forte. Needless to say I got back on the bike more often once I discovered that I was no longer the queen bee and benefited greatly from it.

A similar situation occurred this summer. It had been a while since I went for a swim (dreadlocks didn't lend themselves to aqua-dynamic performance) but I was a reasonably strong swimmer in my youth so, when asked by a friend if I wanted to join them on a morning session in the pool, I didn't think much of it. How the years have been unkind to me and my lungs! My friend, who I considered an equal back in the day, swam circles around me.

The pattern holds true for my work too. At the start of the course I knew I would be on the back foot having no previous experience on journalism, save this sporadic outpouring into the ether. So I tried my hardest, studied every night and kept on top of the work. However, now I have established myself in the top sector of the class (based entirely on test results) I no longer feel the pressure to perform, ergo I slack off.

This resulted in a rude awakening when I got my dates mixed up and arrived unprepared for a major test earlier this week. Not a surprise, then, that I flunked it and as a result self esteem is back down to early course levels. Needless to say this has restored my energy with regard to work and will hopefully pay dividends in the exams which are less than a month away!

I hope that the bruising of my ego will be a lesson to me and all who follow me (that's you!)

On a positive note this method of motivation has inspired me to play the piano and trombone more and I will give my first public solo trombone performance since my first year at university the day after tomorrow. Every cloud...

Thursday 29 October 2009

Finally, proof!

Thanks to a recent tweet I was linked to this article from the LA Times. I've pasted it below for your benefit:

GREENSPACE, LA Times
August 07, 2009

Environmentalists tend to avoid the topic of population control. Too touchy. But the politically incorrect issue is becoming unavoidable as the global population lurches toward a predicted 9 billion people by mid-century. Will there be enough food? Enough water? Will planet-heating carbon dioxide gas become ever more uncontrollable?

Now comes a study by statisticians at Oregon State University focusing on the elephant in the room.

The findings: If you are concerned about your carbon footprint, think birth control.

The greenhouse gas effect of a child is almost 20 times more significant than the amount any American would save by such practices as driving a fuel-efficient car, recycling or using energy-efficient lightbulbs and appliances, according to Paul Murtaugh, an Oregon State professor of statistics. Under current U.S. consumption patterns, each child ultimately adds about 9,441 metric tons of CO2 to the carbon legacy of an average parent -- about 5.7 times a person's lifetime emissions, he calculates.

Given the higher per-capita consumption of developed nations, the study found that the impact of a child born in the U.S., along with all his or her descendants, is more than 160 times that of a Bangladeshi child. And the long-term impact of a Chinese child is less than one-fifth the impact of a U.S.-born child. But as China, India and other developing nations hurtle toward prosperity, that is likely to change.

-- Margot Roosevelt

Study by statisticians at Oregon State University.


I have for a long time thought that we're breeding too much. Overpopulation, although not a sole cause, can be attributed to problems in unemployment and lack of housing, two issues rather close to my heart at the moment.

It doesn't take a genius to realise that with fewer people on the planet the net quality of life for us would improve.

The long term solution is obvious: have fewer children. But a short term solution isn't clear. Mass genocide isn't looked too kindly upon nowadays and far be it for me to wish another World War to happen.

The hippie in me thinks pandemics like bird-flu and swine-flu are natures way of keeping us in check: Survival of the fittest etc. If we keep extending our life expectancy there'll be no room left on this little planet for us to enjoy a quantum of solace every now and then.

Now, I'm not saying that we should just let nature take it's course, but we must realise that we can't have lots of children and live forever.

Balance must reign supreme. Yin and yang; black and white; 0 and 1... life is full of things that work only because there is balance.

To address this balance we can either try to come to a happy medium ourselves as individuals, living truly carbon neutral lifestyles (ha!) and agreeing not having children until we've sorted the problem, or we can work together and agree on certain principles.

However, now we get onto questions of freedom and moral rights: Do we prevent people breeding purely on the basis of their social status, wealth, race or skills? No, we can't. What, then, is the answer?

It's at this stage where I fall short of the mark. Obviously I wouldn't deserve to breed in my twisted Orwellian world. Probably a good thing, then, that I don't want kids for the reasons suggested by the LA Times.

Thursday 22 October 2009

A watched kettle...

... contrary to popular folklore, will invariably boil. An obvious statement, you may say, but so obvious is this statement that many people take it for granted.

I could go and praise the amazing work of Lord Weir and the existence of the National Grid, but this is a call to arms for Eco Warriors everywhere.

My green aspirations are nothing new and I have been through the dreadlocked-hippie-university-student phase. Nowadays I am less dogmatic about Green Living and will not scorn others at the drop of a hat for not recycling their paper (Shock, horror!).

However, recently I have moved to Brighton, a city popular with the Green vote. I am shocked at the number of the people I meet who are oblivious to their impact on the environment and still boil a whole kettle of water to make one cup of tea. I even live with a man who boils a whole kettle "so that whoever uses it next doesn't have to wait as long"!

I implore everyone with a scrap of common sense and decency to think very carefully about how you can help us make this world last a little longer. It is well documented that abusing the grid in the way mentioned above wastes a expletive huge amount amount of energy.

Do those of you who still boil a whole kettle for one mug of Ovaltine not feel the sting of guilt that you have slapped Mother Nature in the face every time you do this?

I remember the moment when I realised that although I may be a small fish in a 1,400,000,000 km3 pond everything I do has an effect on the environment. 'For every action there is an opposite and equal reaction'. Twisting Netwon's laws to fit my analogy may be a little pretentious but humanity must realise that we affect the world we live in. The laws of nature will not overlook the stray wrapper and she will count every single one as an act against her survival.

Can we not see that once Earth is made uninhabitable we have nowhere else to live?

So, please, make it your life's goal to protect our habitat in whatever you do. Recycle your paper, buy fair trade products, only boil as much water as you need. Vast and varied as our world may be, we only have one chance to get it right.

Tuesday 26 May 2009

The future of computing

For those of you unfortunate enough to have missed this morning's Inventions that Changed the World presented by my favorite over-patriotic journo-petrol head, Jeremy Clarkson, I'd like to relay some of the sentiments that I felt particularly affected by.

Who's heard of Tommy Flowers? No? I'm not surprised. I hadn't until this morning, or if I did his efforts weren't praised enough for me to appreciate them: He built the world's first code breaking computer - Colossus.

Now first of all, I'd like to say what a damn cool name for a computer Colossus is, I mean if a German informer had heard that the Brits had created a machine called Colossus that could break their Lorenz cypher in a matter of minutes I bet they'd have sheize'd their lederhosen! "Nein, eine Colossus komputer! Mein Furher, wir sind gefickt!"

Secondly, I'd like to say a personal thank you to Mr. Flowers for his tenacity to build the thing in the first place. Made out of nearly 2000 thermionic valves (vacuum tubes) it took only 10 months to build the first one (the British Army requested 8 more) and over £1000 of personal investment from Tommy himself. A post office worker by trade he used the same principle as the PO switchboard to run two messages simultaneously in perfect synchrony making code breaking a matter of minutes rather than months.

At this point I'd like to tip my hat to another fellow whose efforts we aught to recognize: Alan Turing. After being found to be a homosexual he was ostracised by the code-breaking community but his influence cannot be under emphasized. His Turing machine (or the principle behind the design) is the basis for pretty much all modern computing and his efforts not only on the bombe (a machine that sped up the breaking of an Enigma Machine encoded message) have undoubtedly saved lives. Alan is immortalised as a statue in Sackville Park, Manchester.

After waving the flag for British computing poineering it is unfortunate that our friend Mr. Clarkson has to head overseas to finish the story of the computer. The Americans took the idea of a programmable switching machine to new highs and build vast rooms filled with valves. Xerox, a New-York based company, were the poineers now and this group of mathematicians and hippies pushed forwards the potential for these machines. Originally set up as a company selling photographic equipment, mainly paper, they diversified in the 60s and started making paper copiers, the first named the Xerox 813 in 1963, before progressing onto computers.

In 1971 Intel created the first microprocessor: the 4004. Using two conducting layers separated by a semi-conductor, the state of which is controlled by an electronic current, the switching technology could be made incredibly small and efficient. With a clock speed of 740 kHz and 2250 transistors (which act as switches, the same as the valves in Tommy Flowers' machine) it was technically only a little bit more powerful than Colossus but it led the way for microprocessors becoming common fare.

Xerox built the first 'personal computer', called the Alto, in 1973 and it had features that are now commonplace: A cathode-ray screen, a GUI, mouse pointer and QWERTY keyboard. It was built around a processor based on Texas Instruments' 74181 chip, essentially a collection of logic gates but capable of 45454545.45 calculations per second (one every 22 nanoseconds). In 1981 the Xerox Star (with input from Apple) was the first commercially available system, but due to it's astronomical cost ($16,000) it still didn't sell well. By this time the internet was up and running (to a degree) and email was developed to take advatage of it.

Nowadays every electrical item in the home has a microprocessor that controls it's every function. Processor clock speeds topped out at just under 4GHz due to the heat emitted by the transistors changing state but faster machines have been built using a design that incooporates multiple processors on a single chip, which means that Moore's Law can continue unabated for the time being.

So, what lies ahead for computing? Mr. Clarkson's programme ends with a sarcastic run down of 80s science fiction suggestions: having conversations with computers, maids/butlers attending to our every desire, robo-pets that develop 'personalities'. Some of these are, on a basic level, already with us but the main thrust of his point, hidden and cryptic as it may be, lies in a comment he makes about half way through. On the subject of modern computers he points out obvious but not imediately comprehensible flaws in computer design: They will do exactly what we programme them to do, obediently and unquestioningly. The limit of computer intelligence is therefore limited to the height of human intelligence. This is, I believe, going to be the truth that computer scientists will have to mould to their whim if Artificial Intelligence is going to become a reality. In principle AI is therefore impossible because a computer is only as intelligent as it's programmer and no matter how many switches/transistors a computer is blessed with it will still only live in a world with electricity and humans to provide it with the 'food' and knowledge that it requires.

However, humans are, to a degree, also only a collection of switches (neurones) that relay electronic pulses to a central processing unit (the brain) which de-cyphers these pulses into what we see, hear, smell, feel and do. Is it so improbable that one day a computer/cyborg will be built that can take energy from it's surroundings (solar/wind power) with enough basic programming to learn how to make decisions based on input signals in various circumstances? I, for one, believe that it can be done and that the only thing holding us back is the lack of a unified international effort to combine the programming knowledge and learnt computer history of all AI projects across the globe. Whether I want this to happen is another matter entirely and for the time being I'd rather we didn't put too much funding into it. (Anyone seen iRobot?)

From another programme about the future, James May's Big Ideas, Mr. May explores the current level of bionics and robotics and is amazed to see how far we've come. One particularly impressive project is called Asimo, a Japanese robot that can walk, run and climb the stairs. Another project from the sme laboratory can recognise physical opbjects and will learn the name of a new or foreign object. It can only be a matter of time before the ability to interact with the physical environment and the ability to learn is combined to create what we could, I suppose, call AI. However, until I can't tell a human and a cyborg apart I will remain steadfastly asured that we are not threatened by a Hal that won't open the cargo-bay doors. That is, still, science-fiction.

Thursday 30 April 2009

Value

As those who are close to me (not too close, mind) will know I work in a school dealing mainly with sixth form students (that's 16-18 year-olds for you trans-Atlantic readers) who, one would hope, are organised, motivated, courteous and respectful. The quick witted amongst you might see where I'm going with this...

Having had monaural hearing for most of my life I value music, sound, air vibrations etc. very highly and the surrounding skills that are needed to produce a high quality product. This is a particularly busy time of the academic year because there are lots of coursework deadlines looming (next week, eeek!) and most students don't seem to have got their arse in gear yet. As a result stress levels rise and the true value that these students place upon their work becomes clear: in some cases, very little.

Anyone who teaches as part (or all) of their profession will know how frustrating it is when a simple concept doesn't sink in. Again, the value placed on this information/knowledge becomes clear. Those that take it on quickly and accurately, I believe, have placed a higher value on it than those students who don't take it on. Of course, this is a very complicated argument and there are more factors at play other than the 'value' that students place on knowledge that they can't yet see the purpose of, but the question must be raised: Where/how do students learn value? Is it from the parents or is it from their peers? In either case, is that the best place to learn values from?

No-one can deny that parental input, or a suitable substitute, is vital in bringing up a child but the role that peers play in the value argument is key also. As parents, or superiors, what control or guidance can we inspire in these young leaders of tomorrow (as inevitably they may turn out to be!)? The answer, I'm afraid, is very little although there is hope: young teachers/support staff that can bridge the age gap yet retain some authority.

The role played by these young professionals cannot be underestimated and must not be undervalued in itself. As a young professional myself I know the impact that my actions have on these young minds and, annoyingly, I've got to say that I don't feel as valued as I should be. Now, this is not meant to be a rant at my employers, merely an example of how the way children learn values relies not only on parents and trained professionals but also on people who may have not yet worked out their own values, which means that care must be taken when selecting who has access to our youngsters.

So, what can be done to help the situation? Well, as previously mentioned, parenting is vital in the decent upbringing of a child and it is therefore with the parents that the ultimate responsibility lies. However, there are too many other players in the vast experience of a growing child to lay the responsibility solely on them so, as will become more apparent in later posts, we all face a responsibility to each other to be an example of how we would like to be treated and the values that we uphold. Whether it's making sure that your recycling goes out on time or that your cheque book is balanced, we all hold values that define who we are and the only way that other people are going to know about them and, ultimately, respect them is by living by your own example.

Now, the very bright amongst you will have already realised that if everyone shows their true colours (however dark they may be) there'll be a cacophony of value flooding our experiences with other people and not all will be pleasant. Why is this? It's because we have different values to the people in the world around us, yet it is this that makes Earth such a vibrant and colourful world to live in.

In conclusion, then, values define who we are and showing them is the only way that we can expect others to know and respect them, but respect for the values of others is probably the most important value we should all learn to show.

Monday 27 April 2009

I wish I knew...

... how it would feel to be free. Many of us crave for "freedom" from our work but what does that actually mean? Surely the only reason we know about and can appreciate freedom is because of the drudgery that fills our days between the hours of 9 and 5 (adjust to suit)? Without work, we imagine, we'd be Lords of Leisure: sleeping all morning, eating all afternoon and drinking all evening. 'Sounds good doesn't it? However, how many days would go by before this too would become as monotonous as the work we've escaped?

The key, I believe, to a happy life (N.B. NOT a free life) is variety, and I'm not talking about the pathetic annual excuse for our unelected sponges to pretend they know what 'popular culture' means, I mean doing something different every day.


Take a different route from your house one morning to the bus stop; eat a different sandwich for lunch; try out a new restaurant for dinner and then onto a club you've never been to before. Being open to all that life has to offer will mean that you're never bored and constantly surprised at what you may find yourself enjoying! So, how does it feel to be free?