Stupid things

I was on a train without a ceiling or walls, watching the vast beautiful landscapes pan by.  Miraculously there was no wind.  Sitting across from me was my good friend whom I had never met before.  He invited me to play a card game to pass the time.

Each card was about the size of an index card, 3 inches by 5 inches.  The man had a stack of what seemed to be hundreds of them.  They were brown, faded with age and use, yet did not in any way seem fragile.

I already knew how to play.  It wasn’t a game that you win or lose, it was just an activity game to help pass the time.  On the front and back of each card was written some sort of suggestion, some sort of instruction on what to do, but they were simple things that you could do quickly and right away.  For example, one said: “If you get a drink, your friend will probably want one too” – telling me to go get two drinks.  One said: “Think about the ocean and smell the salty sea air.  Draw a picture of it for your friend.”  Those are the only two I quite remember, but they were all sort of silly and stupid like that, and most included doing something “nice” for the other person.  (I suppose it might make a good “get-a-long” game for kids?)

Anyway, the game worked like this: you drew a card, read it, and then could either decide to do what was on it, or do what was on the back of the last card someone else drew (which was a mystery).  Of course, they were all “nice” things.  The cards never told you to do something embarrassing or cheesy or anything, like “smell your feet” or “slap yourself” or “say a nice thing about your friend.”

So that’s the strange card game my subconscious invented in my dream.  Perhaps I’ll put it in one of my books.

While most of the world was watching TV and surfing the web, scientists achieved the unthinkable: a pair of chatbots that can pass the Turing Test.  A recorded conversation was posted to YouTube just a few days ago.  Forgiving the digital voices, the content of the conversation is remarkably human-like.  This feat is both exciting and scary.  What will come next?  When and how will this technology start changing the world?  These are truly exciting times we live in!

(OK, yes, it’s an older viral video I just now came across.  But it was way too funny not to post.)

I saw this report on Nightline a few hours ago.  I thought it was too funny to not comment on it.

Padgett doesn’t have a PhD, a college degree or even a background in math.

Because it’s long been believed that one cannot draw or even understand geometric shapes without a vast mathematical background.

“I see bits and pieces of the Pythagorean theorem everywhere”

If you really want to seem like a genius, it shouldn’t be hard to get on Wikipedia and find some less commonly known theorem names to name-drop.  Like “I see representations of Pappus’s theorem everywhere, mixed with Levi graphs and Cremona-Richmond configurations.  Oh, sorry, is my genius blowing your mind?  I just can’t turn it off.”

Padgett can draw a visual representation of the formula Pi, that infinite number that begins with 3.14.

So… he can draw a circle with some lines through it.  Amazing.  (Also, pi is not a formula.  And since when is “infinite number” an acceptable description of an irrational number?)

Anyway, aside from the fact that the products of “genius” here are not very impressive in and of themselves (reports of musical genius savants are far more interesting), what really annoys me about reports like this is that they make it seem like a desired skill set is out of one’s conscious control.  It makes genius-ness seem like a “gift” that you either have to be given or can never get.  And I believe this is a very bad notion for the world to accept, because it results in a lot of people missing out on their potentials because they’ve been taught that they don’t even exist.  Which is complete rubbish.

Well, life has many twists and turns.  Sometimes we look at the path we’re on and decide it’s time to change courses.  I sure know my life is changing, and, boy, it’s been a fun ride.  Everyday I’m thankful for having the opportunity to do things and learn so much.  This blog has chronicled my thoughts and ideas for a long time.

I always knew I’d stop blogging someday.  And today I say farewell.  Farewell blogging.

You might ask: Why?  My answer: Because I thought this blog was going to make me rich and famous, and my dreams did not come true.  I tried to make this blog the ultimate destination for everyone.  I did everything in my power to try to make everyone love me.  And what did I get?  Indifference.  Neglect.  Sure, there were some good times.  But c’mon, were they as good as I dreamed better times would be?  No.  No, they weren’t.

So I have to say goodbye to blogging.  I know I won’t be able to do it anymore.

You might ask: When?  My answer: When I die.  I have no idea when that will be.  Until then I’m going to continue blogging as normal, of course.  But I just wanted to go ahead and say goodbye in advance while I had the chance.  Some people have the chance and never take it.  And then we’re left wondering if they ever even really meant to say goodbye.  I think everyone should say farewell to their blogs right now if they haven’t done so already.  Because you can’t take blogs with you to the afterlife, probably, maybe.

You might be thinking: Hey, Sean, I can take over your blog for you after your demise, just leave it to me!  To which I say: Blasphemy!  Blasphemy on high!  Only I can write this blog!  How dare you admit such hubris and arrogance!  Oh, woe upon you!

OK.  I’m glad I could get this farewell out of the way.  It was really bothering me because for a long time I thought I had to blog in chronological order.  And I do, for the most part.  But when saying goodbye to a blog, it seems best to step out of the temporality of nature and give a respectful nod into the blurry fog of the future, because if there’s one thing I know for sure, it’s that an end to blogging lies somewhere in those clouds of dust.

The frogs (not your hoity-toity intellectuals) are starting to return from a thin nearby stretch of woods to breed in the rainwater on the cover of a nearby swimming pool.

It’s going to be a froggy spring!

What great men did at age 26:

Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart: Wrote an opera for an emperor

Albert Einstein: Published a paper that introduced the equation E = mc²

Orson Welles: Directed and starred in one of the greatest films in cinema history

Sean Patrick Hannifin: Ate some toast

Every now and then I’ll hear someone say something like: “This [insert trait here] makes perfect evolutionary sense! It prevents overpopulation!” But it shouldn’t take much thought to realize that this doesn’t make much sense.

Firstly, any given trait of any given animal cannot be said to exist only by having provided an evolutionary advantage to past generations. That is, some traits can be passed on from one generation to the next despite being a burden to the quality of that organism’s life, as long as it does not too greatly hinder the reproduction of the population as a whole.

Secondly, how would overpopulation reduce reproduction of the population as a whole anyway? Overpopulation comes about when the ability to breed is easier than the ability for all members of a population to access needed resources to live long enough to continue breeding. This will prevent the reproduction of some members of the population, but it would not affect the reproduction of the population as a whole. Therefore no evolutionary traits could possibly be passed on to prevent overpopulation. If a trait by itself hinders reproduction, it won’t be passed on. Overpopulation does not hinder the reproduction of the species as a whole — therefore it causes no evolutionary effect in and of itself. (The fight for needed resources may have evolutionary effects if those without the necessary access to the resources die off, but the cause of the scarcity of the resources is irrelevant; it doesn’t matter if the scarcity of a resource is caused by overpopulation, by competition from other populations, or if the resource is just naturally scarce.)

Every population will continue to reproduce until it reaches the limits of its needed resources, or until the limits of the resources change or the population is gobbled up by some other population (or controlled by humans). In this way, you could say it is natural for every population to breed until overpopulation occurs. The only population that can escape this nature is the human population, because we can make the conscious decision to not breed.

So, if you ever find yourself asking: “Hmmm, I wonder why [insert trait here] is passed on from generation to generation even though it does not aid reproduction?” and then find yourself answering: “Oh, to prevent overpopulation!” — please take a moment to consider your lack of logic and amend your thinking ways.