I've been reading over my old posts lately and was particularly struck by my first post where I explain my thoughts on blogging and what I was writing. I guess as I've been blogging (on and off) for over two years now it's probably appropriate that I update my statements on the matter. There's one key thing I've learned which has changed by entire outlook on blogging: the idea that blogs aren't necessarily for others to read.
When I started I frankly didn't know why I was writing a blog. It was just that I had created an account on google's blogger sevice and I decided I might as well try out the whole blogging thing. Over time I've had to figure out why I'm doing this and the best answer doesn't involve anyone else at all. I keep my blog to keep my writing sharp. While reading through these old posts I'm sadly not entirely convinced it's worked. Well, actually I think the writing is quite acceptable, but riddled with typos. On the other hand I may have just learned, from blogging, that proofreading and editing are integral parts of any writing you wish to be presentable.
Blogs are also a great way to organize information, thoughts, and feelings. I keep a separate blog where I record spiritual thoughts and promptings. I don't work with it as much as I might like to, but I've found the tags for a post are ideal for when you want to jot down an idea without a clear picture of how it is to be used. If I want to give a talk, write a paper, or just ponder on a particular subject I can look up and review my previous thoughts on it.
Blogs can work as a personal scratchpad or journal, but they also provide an nice way to share ideas with friends. My original thoughts were that publishing to the internet meant publishing for the world. While a blog is available to the world, it may be meant to be read by only a few friends or family members. That's the direction this blog has taken, and I like that. It's a way to share thoughts with friends, and maybe get their thoughts on some of the same things I've been thinking about. What do you think?
Friday, August 6, 2010
Saturday, June 26, 2010
Thoughts from the Airport
I love airports. An airport is an exciting nexus of modern human existence. A coming together of people, people on journeys. Some leaving to see others for a joyful celebration, some doing the same but for a somber purpose. Still more arriving, perhaps wearied from their voyage and excited to meet friends and settle in at their destination. Or excited to finally be in the place to where they anticipated coming.
They're grand testimonies to modern technology, and while some worry and fret over technologies march forward I marvel and embrace what it's brought us. It was 107 years ago that man first lifted himself from the ground with nothing more than ingenuity, effort, and luck. And now we've mastered the craft so well that anyone can do so for the same price as an expensive piece of clothing. We build what are cities unto themselves to support people taking to the skies day by day. That is what an airport is.
The airport I'm at now is perhaps not one of these, being smaller than where I arrive, the Denver International Airport, but it still excites me. Today I played a game with myself. I tried to move slowly, sauntering through this buzzing hive of humanity. Airports usually excite me and I energetically pull keys and shoes off at security checkpoints, forcefully drive forward toward the gate from which a few tons of steel, silicon, and modern aeronautics will carry me to wherever I wish to go in the world, and then arrive somewhat disappointed that I've been so efficient only to arrive early enough to wait. I still arrived early enough that I've spent about an hour and a half waiting, but it's certainly been enjoyable. The air conditioning has deceptively made the sound of a waterfall in the section of seats next to mine. It's rained and a few brilliant blasts of lightning and deep peels of thunder have been mine to enjoy. Most of this time though I've used to read and, now, to write.
They're grand testimonies to modern technology, and while some worry and fret over technologies march forward I marvel and embrace what it's brought us. It was 107 years ago that man first lifted himself from the ground with nothing more than ingenuity, effort, and luck. And now we've mastered the craft so well that anyone can do so for the same price as an expensive piece of clothing. We build what are cities unto themselves to support people taking to the skies day by day. That is what an airport is.
The airport I'm at now is perhaps not one of these, being smaller than where I arrive, the Denver International Airport, but it still excites me. Today I played a game with myself. I tried to move slowly, sauntering through this buzzing hive of humanity. Airports usually excite me and I energetically pull keys and shoes off at security checkpoints, forcefully drive forward toward the gate from which a few tons of steel, silicon, and modern aeronautics will carry me to wherever I wish to go in the world, and then arrive somewhat disappointed that I've been so efficient only to arrive early enough to wait. I still arrived early enough that I've spent about an hour and a half waiting, but it's certainly been enjoyable. The air conditioning has deceptively made the sound of a waterfall in the section of seats next to mine. It's rained and a few brilliant blasts of lightning and deep peels of thunder have been mine to enjoy. Most of this time though I've used to read and, now, to write.
Thursday, January 14, 2010
The Journey of a Thousand Miles...
...begins with a single step, as the proverb goes. This is true, but it's the time of year where you may be noticing something else. Two weeks ago you may have resolved to do something important over the course of this year. It may have been something big, a journey of a thousand miles per se. Hopefully you took the first step toward that around the same time, but now is the time when something starts to break your stride. That step taken oh so enthusiastically two weeks is taken less frequently. Maybe it's been replaced with something else. Maybe you just don't feel like you have the energy to keep taking it over and over anymore, but that's my point here. OK, metaphor aside I'll state my point clearly. Great things come from small and simple ones, but it's by a continual repetition of them.
Taking the perennial example of New Years resolutions, losing weight, we'll clearly get the picture. My mom talks about the "fake exercisers" at the beginning of each year. Those people who invade her Gym every January. She has nothing against people exercising, rather she's annoyed knowing her spot in the kickboxing class she loyally attends will be taken by someone who'll disappear after six weeks (to be generous). Their thousand mile journey is certainly a worth taking, but they don't actually take it. They take the first step, sure, but quit after a few hundred.
Since I am a mathematician, let's look at how many steps are in a thousand miles. 1,000 miles is 1,609 km. I am a tall guy with long legs and feel OK saying my stride is probably around one meter. Thus I would have to take one million six hundred and nine thousand steps. Realizing this it seems staggering, impossible. That first step is essentially meaningless. However, if I am diligent in taking steps, if I take one step every five seconds, let's say. I can walk almost four journeys of thousand miles over one year. Taking one step every fifteen seconds I can still walk a thousand miles over the course of a year and have a little bit of time left over to, I don't know, eat and sleep.
In summary, to reach a goal-to journey a thousand miles-one must be persistent. Consistency is far more important than enthusiasm. While the journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step, it's only finished by the willingness and discipline to keep taking steps.
Taking the perennial example of New Years resolutions, losing weight, we'll clearly get the picture. My mom talks about the "fake exercisers" at the beginning of each year. Those people who invade her Gym every January. She has nothing against people exercising, rather she's annoyed knowing her spot in the kickboxing class she loyally attends will be taken by someone who'll disappear after six weeks (to be generous). Their thousand mile journey is certainly a worth taking, but they don't actually take it. They take the first step, sure, but quit after a few hundred.
Since I am a mathematician, let's look at how many steps are in a thousand miles. 1,000 miles is 1,609 km. I am a tall guy with long legs and feel OK saying my stride is probably around one meter. Thus I would have to take one million six hundred and nine thousand steps. Realizing this it seems staggering, impossible. That first step is essentially meaningless. However, if I am diligent in taking steps, if I take one step every five seconds, let's say. I can walk almost four journeys of thousand miles over one year. Taking one step every fifteen seconds I can still walk a thousand miles over the course of a year and have a little bit of time left over to, I don't know, eat and sleep.
In summary, to reach a goal-to journey a thousand miles-one must be persistent. Consistency is far more important than enthusiasm. While the journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step, it's only finished by the willingness and discipline to keep taking steps.
Sunday, April 26, 2009
Can't Complain
The title of this post is a common response to simple introductions like, "How's it going?" I often give it. When I do, I think of what I'm saying as very meaningful and important. Most people don't share this opinion. Most people don't go beyond, "Well I could, but what's the point?" My feelings are otherwise.
I see these two words in the same vein as "I cannot tell a lie," or "I can't kill another human being." Of course one can do these things (in the first case one is often presented with opportunities to do so, in the second it's sort of assumed that if you're saying this you're in a situation where someone gave you a gun, possibly in an abandoned warehouse with a guy tied to a chair), the capability to do so is there, perhaps even just cause to do so, but doing so would be a terrible violation of one's personal principles. I feel the same way when I say, "I can't complain."
I live in arguable the most prosperous country on earth, and certainly enjoy a number of amenities on a daily basis. I own my own computer, have running water, and live better most kings in history-probably better than anyone alive more than 300 years ago. I find spiritual fulfillment in my faith, have a family that loves me, and am unburdened by sickness or even mild infirmities such as headaches or sore muscles. I'm grateful for these many blessings in my life. That gratitude is important. Gratitude is a key to happiness. If were to complain over trifles such as one isolated incident of a headache I had the other night or a problem on my CS homework that I thought was poorly worded I would be denying the many good things I have and failing in my gratitude. When I say I can't complain I'm saying I will continue to live a life of gratitude for the many good things I enjoy, that I refuse to focus on whatever unfortunate circumstances may befall me and instead will focus on the happy happenstances of my existence. As a grateful person, I can't complain.
I see these two words in the same vein as "I cannot tell a lie," or "I can't kill another human being." Of course one can do these things (in the first case one is often presented with opportunities to do so, in the second it's sort of assumed that if you're saying this you're in a situation where someone gave you a gun, possibly in an abandoned warehouse with a guy tied to a chair), the capability to do so is there, perhaps even just cause to do so, but doing so would be a terrible violation of one's personal principles. I feel the same way when I say, "I can't complain."
I live in arguable the most prosperous country on earth, and certainly enjoy a number of amenities on a daily basis. I own my own computer, have running water, and live better most kings in history-probably better than anyone alive more than 300 years ago. I find spiritual fulfillment in my faith, have a family that loves me, and am unburdened by sickness or even mild infirmities such as headaches or sore muscles. I'm grateful for these many blessings in my life. That gratitude is important. Gratitude is a key to happiness. If were to complain over trifles such as one isolated incident of a headache I had the other night or a problem on my CS homework that I thought was poorly worded I would be denying the many good things I have and failing in my gratitude. When I say I can't complain I'm saying I will continue to live a life of gratitude for the many good things I enjoy, that I refuse to focus on whatever unfortunate circumstances may befall me and instead will focus on the happy happenstances of my existence. As a grateful person, I can't complain.
Thursday, March 26, 2009
"Why is there always money for war, but not education?"
I see a bumper sticker with the above almost everyday on my walk to school. I can feel myself sympathetic with the sentiment sometimes. I often feel that the sentiment is naive, that of a simpleton, and masquerading as something with important meaning while truly hollow, on the other hand. Thinking about it I've (obviously) decided to write a post on the subject, and actually I came up with an answer:
Because war is expensive, education isn't. Even as a college student who is continually hit with the cost of education-a physics major who often thinks, "Man, I wish the phys. dept. could just replace all this lab equipment with newer, nicer stuff," a student who knows how expensive books are, a student who works extensively with computers and wonders if he'd do well at all without his personal computer-I think the need for money in education is overrated. Good education requires more personal involvement on the part of the teacher and the student. That's the most important factor. Everything else is gravy. Shouldn't we have a financial investment and incentive for teachers do be involved then? Yes. Yes, yes, yes. I'd love it if teachers got paid more, because apart from parents they may have the most important job for society.
Then again, soldiers may have the most important job for society. Soldiers bought us freedom from England with blood, nuclear warheads scared us, but may have also saved us from communists during the cold war, and soldiers, TSA, CIA, NSA, and others from the American war machine that seems to have too much money keep those who would kill us all simply because we don't bow to their beliefs. Moreover, soldiers liberates Auschwitz, and have stopped evil time and time again throughout history.
Guns, planes, bombs, and armour cost money though. Keeping these relevant costs more. Finding a good teacher takes, well frankly luck. Actually, it costs character. If our society doesn't cultivate character, no one is going to take a job trying to impart knowledge to others. This number will fall even farther if the students of our society don't have enough humility (which people of good character should have) to learn, instead persecuting those that would dare try to tell them they need to work harder to understand an unknown piece of the world. No one can do more to bring the character to the students of our society than parents. But most parents worry more about their children being smart, successful, or simply docile than they do about having character.
In a perfect world, we would pay teachers would be millionaires, and armies wouldn't exist because there'd be no need. Aside from religious beliefs, we'll never live in that perfect world and we have to live intelligently, according to what really exists and addressing those needs, in the real world. The real world has evil, danger, and societal problems that make education hard, so sometimes it's easier to pretend we live in a perfect world.
Because war is expensive, education isn't. Even as a college student who is continually hit with the cost of education-a physics major who often thinks, "Man, I wish the phys. dept. could just replace all this lab equipment with newer, nicer stuff," a student who knows how expensive books are, a student who works extensively with computers and wonders if he'd do well at all without his personal computer-I think the need for money in education is overrated. Good education requires more personal involvement on the part of the teacher and the student. That's the most important factor. Everything else is gravy. Shouldn't we have a financial investment and incentive for teachers do be involved then? Yes. Yes, yes, yes. I'd love it if teachers got paid more, because apart from parents they may have the most important job for society.
Then again, soldiers may have the most important job for society. Soldiers bought us freedom from England with blood, nuclear warheads scared us, but may have also saved us from communists during the cold war, and soldiers, TSA, CIA, NSA, and others from the American war machine that seems to have too much money keep those who would kill us all simply because we don't bow to their beliefs. Moreover, soldiers liberates Auschwitz, and have stopped evil time and time again throughout history.
Guns, planes, bombs, and armour cost money though. Keeping these relevant costs more. Finding a good teacher takes, well frankly luck. Actually, it costs character. If our society doesn't cultivate character, no one is going to take a job trying to impart knowledge to others. This number will fall even farther if the students of our society don't have enough humility (which people of good character should have) to learn, instead persecuting those that would dare try to tell them they need to work harder to understand an unknown piece of the world. No one can do more to bring the character to the students of our society than parents. But most parents worry more about their children being smart, successful, or simply docile than they do about having character.
In a perfect world, we would pay teachers would be millionaires, and armies wouldn't exist because there'd be no need. Aside from religious beliefs, we'll never live in that perfect world and we have to live intelligently, according to what really exists and addressing those needs, in the real world. The real world has evil, danger, and societal problems that make education hard, so sometimes it's easier to pretend we live in a perfect world.
Tuesday, February 10, 2009
What I learned from MMORPGs
Not much, since I don' actually play them. I do play video games when I find one I like enough to pull the time and money away from me. I had a thought recently about video game mentalities and paradigms and a major difference between the MMORPG and the kind I've played. The games I've played, mostly shooters and real time strategy, are level by level, outcome oriented games. You start a mission, play through it, and then start another one until you're done with the game. MMORPGs on the other hand only loosely follow this paradigm. Much more important, as I understand, is the in game character you make. You play the game not so much to finish a level and beat the game but to "level up" your character. Curiously, I think this is a great analogy for life and a good paradigm to live by, even if it's not the type of game I've been playing.
My types of games our outwardly oriented. Your focus is on manipulating the world around you: shooting the bad guys, destroying the enemy nuclear facility, stopping the end of the world. While these make for stories and situations I enjoy, it's not a good way to live your life. A wise word of advice is that you should not set goals for yourself based on other's agency (free will). We should be more concerned with carrying out good actions rather than the outcome of our actions. In an MMORPG is a quest is too hard and you can't get it to work out, you can abondanon it and look for other ways to gain experience. So in life we need to understand that if something isn't working out the way we want it to we can look to other things for fulfillment and joy. It is O.K. when things don't work out the way we'd hope.
"Leveling up" is something we could all stand to take a lesson from, too. Returning again to the concept of a PGF and it's derivative we should all be striving for the next level in our own personal growth. Realizing that there's always a higher level that comes with it's own rewards, or developing skills, abilities, and powers are what keep the MMORPG player playing. Likewise, developing our skills, abilities, and knowledge should keep all of us living.
My types of games our outwardly oriented. Your focus is on manipulating the world around you: shooting the bad guys, destroying the enemy nuclear facility, stopping the end of the world. While these make for stories and situations I enjoy, it's not a good way to live your life. A wise word of advice is that you should not set goals for yourself based on other's agency (free will). We should be more concerned with carrying out good actions rather than the outcome of our actions. In an MMORPG is a quest is too hard and you can't get it to work out, you can abondanon it and look for other ways to gain experience. So in life we need to understand that if something isn't working out the way we want it to we can look to other things for fulfillment and joy. It is O.K. when things don't work out the way we'd hope.
"Leveling up" is something we could all stand to take a lesson from, too. Returning again to the concept of a PGF and it's derivative we should all be striving for the next level in our own personal growth. Realizing that there's always a higher level that comes with it's own rewards, or developing skills, abilities, and powers are what keep the MMORPG player playing. Likewise, developing our skills, abilities, and knowledge should keep all of us living.
Tuesday, January 27, 2009
Not excusable, but understandable
I have been thinking since for a little bit now on the title of this post. I suppose I should say that my thoughts about it might just barely crystallize here as I write them, or maybe not. It's an interesting thing to think about, and has meaning and importance, and it's about time for the monthly post here on my blog so here goes.
I think my idea here is what drives reformation. What drives one to become better? To leave bad habits and grow to be better. This is similar to my previous post on the idea of a PGF. My question here though focuses more on bad habits, or vices. I've been struggling with some of my own lately. Perhaps it may be better to say that a particular struggle has been highlighted recently, as I hope to be continually struggling with my vices and weakness always. Getting to the point, I see the poor decisions I make and I decide that they're not excusable, but sometimes understandable.
This means I seek to understand what drives me to do what my better judgment tells me not to. I look for the conditions and the reasons behind bad decisions, internal and external. I usually find them. I usually find a good explanation for why I don't do what I think I should. Knowing this empowers me to be better, to avoid those pitfalls in the future, and to build situations around and within me that will propel me to good rather than away from it.
Knowing what caused my iniquities, though, doesn't mean that they don't exist. It doesn't mean, to use my hated phrase, "I'm a good person." On the other hand, weeping and feeling sorrow for what I've done wrong won't help either. I can't live in the past, wishing I hadn't done what I've done. I can only accept my previous faults, and strive to make sure they do not become present faults.
I think my idea here is what drives reformation. What drives one to become better? To leave bad habits and grow to be better. This is similar to my previous post on the idea of a PGF. My question here though focuses more on bad habits, or vices. I've been struggling with some of my own lately. Perhaps it may be better to say that a particular struggle has been highlighted recently, as I hope to be continually struggling with my vices and weakness always. Getting to the point, I see the poor decisions I make and I decide that they're not excusable, but sometimes understandable.
This means I seek to understand what drives me to do what my better judgment tells me not to. I look for the conditions and the reasons behind bad decisions, internal and external. I usually find them. I usually find a good explanation for why I don't do what I think I should. Knowing this empowers me to be better, to avoid those pitfalls in the future, and to build situations around and within me that will propel me to good rather than away from it.
Knowing what caused my iniquities, though, doesn't mean that they don't exist. It doesn't mean, to use my hated phrase, "I'm a good person." On the other hand, weeping and feeling sorrow for what I've done wrong won't help either. I can't live in the past, wishing I hadn't done what I've done. I can only accept my previous faults, and strive to make sure they do not become present faults.
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