The Wisdom in Comedy

A wise internet page (it was most likely this one,) once gave me the sage advice that the most important thing in life was laughter. It is wisdom that I have recently taken to heart. The happy go lucky laugh along confident approach to life is enviable but not something that most of us can attain. We live life with different perspectives, different attitudes and different emotional reactions. This is part of the vibrance that keeps the human species dynamic and it doesn't need to be sacrificed to this principle.

The pragmatic application that was counselled was more simple: Find the things that make you laugh. Then keep them with you. Keep them somewhere accessible, so that when life gets you at its harshest darkest moment; where you really can see no light in the distance; this treasure of laughter will be available to you. I share with you my personal application.

I have two big flaws that effect my emotional reaction to things. I tend to overthink, my brain stuck in top gear endless permutations scrambling past the projector in my mind and to think verbally too much. My comedic cure to these symptoms is the irrelevant humour of Scrubs and QI. Scrubs is irrelevance personified and this whacky casual view of the world is conveyed to me, basking in the glow of its characters. It feels strange but a TV show is usually as good a way as there is for me to inhabit an alternate world. Books are for serious things. QI which I imagine my non-UK reader will never have heard of is a quiz show that while being informative is more a portal into irrelevance; the understanding that just because the paddle pool of ignorance is connected to the ocean of knowledge I do not have to run straight into the sea. Sometimes the paddle pool has its own wonders. It is an attempt to revive the fun of words and the pleasure of language, language at the beach and the amusement park instead of the office.

These two items in my treasury both serve to remind me through comedy of the things that my brain needs for its own good. Sometimes it needs to be off; sometimes it has to be left in neutral if it is to run at full speed at other times. It serves two other important purposes. It banishes the darkness; laughter instrinsicly is the emotion of the alive and the happy and this treasury can put you in touch with this at a time when you can't recall them. A life line that is truly priceless. Also it gives you detachment - for a few minutes you forget the here and now; you inhabit the world which the material inhabits and can get yourself recentered by reminding yourself of the full range of human experiences; not only of human experiences but also your experiences.

I have had need a few times to put this advice to the test, and I can confidently say that while not a problem solver it has the magic quality of making problems more bearable, to make solutions more possible and the spirit more willing. And so many of our problems can be solved by these simple changes that I could say that they were problem solvers when the problem was me rather then the outside world.

Conversational History

This weekend I had to reformat my laptop after some sort of critical software screw up essentially made it impossible for it to boot up successfully the whole way. Invariably on every start something would go wrong and I would get the once ubiquitous, now thankfully less, Blue Screen of Death; whereby Windows told you in a rather incomprehensible way why a component had failed you at a critical point. With no way to get into recover my files I had no choice but to go for a rough and ready format and accept the loss of my files.

In the few days after, as things have been slotted back into place and I reinstall all the software that made my computer work in the way that I wanted it to I've found myself missing some files that I really didn't put much thought into at the time. Google has backed up my emails, and my blog posts are all still alive on the net somewhere, so while the loss of my copies is regrettable it's not like I've lost access to that content for eternity.The files that I miss are the conversation history files from MSN. I had conversation histories from the ICQ days which is like 1999 onwards and Trillian logs from 2001 onwards when I made the switch.

Now as a personal perversion I'm a big fan of keeping archives of my conversations and emails so the loss of these was something that I found quite sad. I still have some of my conversations that I had with Craig and Mubaraka in 2000 and thereafter, and as a record of my history I don't have a better source. Our conversations on MSN were sometimes rather epic and even when they were more benign they recorded what we did with our days, what we talked about and what we planned to do with our remaining hours. They reminded me what I had done in those times. With no other method of preserving my daily actions for posterity then these archives functioned as my diary, my record and my portal to memories that I would not otherwise remember. They're the only contemporary record of times that were some of the best that I had with the best people it has ever been my fortune to have stumbled across.

Recently there have been a few conversations that have exceptionally worth retaining and rereading for their general tenor and audacity. While I took that opportunity only once, I would have loved to give them a second reading to extract as much information as I could from conversations that were operating at more levels then I was able to extract at the time.They have a special quality that made them enjoyable and also that made them worth retaining. In many ways it's the modern successor to those conversations with Craig and Mubaraka that were so delightful and I feel equally they might be definitional of an interesting time in life again. The period of now is always interesting in that sense, especially when you get a chance to review them later.

I suppose the end result is a salutary lecture in the virtues of backing up, and keeping alternate copies of those things that are important. But the time for lessons learned is a little distant. While I know that it lives inside me and that friendships are current as well as historic, sometimes the history can be as beautiful and worth fighting for as the past - and that I feel the loss of now.

The Wish to Work

It seems strangely odd to say it, but it is a sentiment that I have been repeating to many others when I mention my slightly busy time in the run up to exams, with the revision that needs to be done and the writing that needs to be done for my two other assessments, but it really is nice to have some work to do again.

My time so far at HKU has been less then satisfactory, and I've made that rather amply clear to those who have talked to me and in my prior post about the prestigious institution here as well. My problem with it at the core is that I don't feel like I'm being pushed at all, that my potential is being enhanced by the mental calisthenics that I would expect that post graduate education would demand of me. At undergrad, every year I could take stock of where I was at that point and compare it to the point that preceded it and I could actively chart my improvement.

In first year I was abysmal, couldn't do a decent amount of work and lacked the focus, discipline and the mental fortitude to knuckle down and expand my exposure to the legal world. In second year the methods learned painfully over the first year with all its mistakes was harnessed to develop stronger and better methods. Second year was an absolute nightmare as we took all of the big three together (tort, trusts and property) the acknowledged hardest subjects on the course (and compulsory I might add) but it resulted in better thinking, writing and planning as well as time management being an absolute necessity. Third year was a bit easier, the topics weren't as hard cause they were the optional modules and Public International Law was something that I knew perhaps better then my teacher in some aspects and the course was definitely taught below the level of the reading. Yet there was still Company Law, with the formidable Eva Lomnicka that served as an excellent template on how to learn complex and demanding law which made no sense at all, and Trade marks which gave me an excellent guide to structuring legal knowledge, which to be fair I don't think she knew she was doing, but I still use that method to teach myself topics and prepare for exams and so far it's doing good.

At HKU on the other hand, the reading is trivial, always well above the level of the lecture and my own personal reading done on the side for some of the topics is putting me well beyond the level of the material taught. Now I accept that is tangentially my own fault for getting through the material too fast and demanding too much of myself and my course. But that sense of being engaged in an intellectual pursuit that demands me too put my A-game in has gone and it is rather disappointing to end up in that situation. I would have hoped that an institution of the pedigree of HKU would keep me stretched.

The effect of a demanding undergrad time has been the net result that I've been bent out of shape in a rather fundamental manner that does not permit me to be lazy for too long and without engaging myself in work that feels substantial. In my second year I recall that I vegged out for one week watching Star Trek episodes by the dozen, but the moment that finished I had to find something more substantial for me to do to pass the time as well as doing the social stuff. A day spent idly is something that has only really beginning to happen at the moment, and I can't help but think it is because the deformity that King's imposed on my character to make me an aficionado of hard work is fading away. The desire to be productive has only been slightly filled in the exam period by having me work hard. Let's hope that we can find a way for the rest of the year to be conducive to that kind of work and develop a way to push myself a little harder.

Formula 1 Concentration

I have started becoming more of a committed Formula 1 fan in recent months. I was never one before I went to the UK, it only featured on my map of the sporting world because it was Sumer's sport, the sport that he was the most interested in and talked about an awful lot. And as one of those de facto things that litter life, if your friends talk about something a lot, you learn a lot about it yourself, and begin to develop a little interest of your own to complement them. But that was initially the extent of my interest; more the interest of my friends then my own.

It changed with university, as did so many other things. ITV in the UK broadcasts F1 free to air, with a top notch presentation crew and commentary that is both accessible and informative and served as a bench mark into the sport. Also the times were suddenly much more reasonable with races being in the afternoon on weekends, times when I had more time on my hand without having to go to madressa or being constrained by the thought of work due in on Monday. I begin to appreciate the excellent fusion that the sport provided between machinery operating at its maximum, the tremendous performance at the top end of any game, and the tremendous focus, precision and concentration that they drivers demonstrated, bringing a car around at 300km/h stopping with infinite precision in a breaking zone all while tussulling with one another for the smallest advantage that they could open out into an opportunity to get ahead or get away from their fellow competitors.

Recently, I've managed to 'acquire' a copy of EA Sport's F1 Challenge which is perhaps the bench mark of realistic racing on the PC, a genre so niche that no one even competes with a game that was last really updated in 2003 and only is current today by the endeavours of a committed set of modders that add updates and strive to improve the game as much as they can, which they are able to do by the excellent open ended design of the game to allow modding and amendments that have enabled the success of these dedicated maintainers of the F1 PC gaming legacy.

A few weeks of playing this modest game, has impressed upon me how much I underestimated the top notch professionalism of an F1 driver. The difficulty is not in mechanics and car control, that is a huge potential problem though, and one not to be lightly discarded. A vehicle going at 200km/h going out of control and into a tyre wall is a sobering thought that would keep most sane people firmly glued to their unmoving seats in the audience stand, not rushing out to the raceway. What is more daunting, and perhaps even tougher is the exacting concentration that is required in every moment and at every turn of a race. You cannot switch off for a single moment without dire consequences. You cannot miss a breaking point, you cannot get caught up in the competition, the proximity of another car on the race track, you have to race your own race while all the time being aware of the ever fluid changing circumstances.

It has shown me how weak actually my concentration is. I find it impossible to focus on anything like race distance. In fact in any given lap, there are probably two moments where I'm on the thin line between everything breaking and the car just staying on the road, and I'm not even consistently able to correct when I think that I might be close to overstepping the line without knowing what to do. That kind of focus, that kind of concentration on anything is something that I lack at any level in my life and I really admire the ability for anyone to do it. There's a hope that the weaknesses in my racing game can finally function to allow me to get more out of life.

My Love of Theatre

I have a tendency to performance. I have a sensation that I am coming to realise something here that I did not come to realise before. This explains much of what I found myself doing and perhaps where I want to go with things.

I am referring to the desire that I have for public approbriation and performance. It is a rather recurring theme if you wish to look at it with an extended perspective. MUN, is ultimately a public speaking event, you go out and talk, the centre of attention and the focus of all events. People listen as you speak, you feel the nervous tension, that anxiety that adheres to all public performance, and I get a rush out of it. This rush is perhaps the closest thing to an adrenaline rush that I ever got on a regular basis. The performance, the style and the theatrics, to play with words and attack or defend a position.

In jumaat (functions at the mosque) that incredible ego rush and power trip of performance is there. And it's perhaps the reason I've been holding back for the last few months from doing anything. I've conquered that arena and I'm not really fussed whether I recite or not.

Three months ago during Rajab, when I was the front line in a very real sense, above men who are many years my senior was perhaps the pinnacle of this feeling so far; the tremendous showing off that was dass surat with its casual performance that was almost contemptuous excellence; all done above many who are my senior, those who by right should have the performance I was putting on. In a sense these are moments that I get an incredible ego rush out off. They are the culmination of the expectation, the central position and the rising to meet the challenge without really feeling stretched, in a publicly casual manner that I loved. I loved upstaging people, defying expectation, and accomplishing something dramatic in the centre. It's an almost palpable feeling of "I showed them". And perhaps a malicious undercurrent of "I am better then you. Watch me prove it."

It also translates into what I want to do. A barrister is inevitable theatricality, its a performance, verbal, that is about conveying information while occupying the central position in a ritual theatre that defines justice in dozens of countries. The desire again is to take that central stage and dominate it in a casual and commanding manner, that artfully conceals the hours of painstaking preparation and planning to win the adulation of the world. This desire to transcend, excel and to bask in the limelight, without an ounce of effort being apparent is what I want. And it explains a lot.

Cold Hard Logic

We have a new word of the year, courtesy of the eminently qualified people at Merriam Webster, who have pronounced Dr. Steven Colberts phrase truthiness as the embodiment of this annus horribilis. Those of you unaware of the good doctor's work, truthiness is a satirical term which refers to person who claims to know something intuitively, instinctively, or "from the gut" without regard to evidence, logic, intellectual examination, or actual facts. This kind of evocation is a constant factor in American politics, it being just about the sole kind of justification the White House has ever put out for any of its policies.

The word has been chosen at an appropriate time, because I also am under siege due to my logical approach to life, being told to advocate something else then cold rationality in my daily interaction. Now I think it's fair to say that cold rationality is one of my strong points, and that it is one of the aspects of me that I actually like. I don't like doing or thinking things that have no connection with reality in real world situations. I'm not dismissing the power of imagination or the utility of a flight of fancy (who doesn't indulge in those) but I don't think decisions and words should be wasted without regard this requirement.

Others would disagree suggesting that I should replace my logic with...Well they haven't been forthcoming about what I should replace it with. I think the alternatives would either be more gut instinct, more random behaviour and less planning. An adaptation of truthiness if you will.The value of spontaneity is something that I can appreciate, and it really is something that I don't do a lot of. It might be just the way I'm configured but I also feel that I don't have the people around me to let me be spontaneous in a meaningful way with constructive results. Saying silly things has never appealed to me; I'd rather be actually witty or telling jokes which I flatter myself but I think I'm good at playing with words instead of doing silly things which I can't do because I have the grace of galloping hyena.

In the end though I'm comfortable with what I am, I like being rational, and thinking things through before committing myself to anything. It's what I'm used to doing, and it seems idiotic to resile from a position that is eminently rational to a position less rational because of no articulatable benefit. So till the case is better made, I'll be staying the way I am.

Lead, Follow or Get Out Of The Way

I've been contemplating my passive interventionist approach to leadership these last few days. My 'method' loosely put is that I don't like to take the lead from the outset in any endeavour. There are always those who see themselves as in command, or have done the necessary work or effort to deserve command out of a sense of seniority, and so I prefer to take up a number two position . This perhaps ties into my belief that real power often accrues to those who are the men behind the throne, although often they can bear the brunt of failure as well.

More often then not though, the situation is dynamicly leaderless due to it being social or haphazardly organised (class group presentation) and I take charge out of a sense of frustration. I start passive if I can afford it, letting people run their arguments and ideas together to get a sense of all the possibilities that the discussion can head down so that we have an appreciation of the full spectrum of opportunities available for us.

I find this awareness of the full spectrum tends to bring progress to a rather grinding halt. The more possibilities people find, the more scope for error there becomes and the more averse they become to advocating any specific course. This is usually my niche, for I'm very good at advocating a particular path to proceed down, without finding myself prone to prevarication.

I recall reading an anecdote, probably somewhere on Slashdot, where a person was relating that they had gained a promotion becuase they were a good decision maker. This they were told, didn't mean that they made right decisions or that their decisions were the best possible decisions, but that they took decisions with the best mix of timelyness and effectiveness and that the decisions were well done as decisions, as opposed to the brilliant resolution of the current dillema. The notion being conveyed was that you can be taught what the best decision in a given set of circumstnaces is, but you cannot be taught how to find that decision, how to make that decision and how to abide by them.

I get very quickly frustrated at the circular discussions that can quickly develop amongst people who are not able to agree on any position or agree on what position they hold. I see it always as quick rational analysis of what position to hold, what its key arguments are, what peripheral points can be negotiated and how sustainable the position is overall. All that's then left is trading these jigsaw pieces around until everyone has a puzzle that they enjoy the sight of. Not difficult, not complicated and there really is no need for it to be time consuming.

I find that this style of decisive leadership has two results. Firstly people are quite greatful that someone is making a decision and they tend to agree with what I've suggested unless there is another person with strong views and a reasoned case, in which situation me and that person usually hammer out a compromise that is acceptable to him and therefore to all. The second is that people tend to resent it, because (I speculate) that it seems to be overly efficient and too ruthless in preening their ideas and contributions to make them fit into a coherent model that deals with the problem we actually have, rather then the problem they want to have.

I'm not sure I'm willing to change it, though I've made efforts to involve others more and to keep soliciting their feedback on a more continuing basis especially to make sure that the solution is still functioning rather then a paper plan. But at the same time I'm averse to mindlessly reviewing decisions we've already made without there actually being any new information that would justify such a review, and I get irate when people attempt to waste time doing this..

A delicate balance to be sure, and one that I shall have to strive to be more concious in maintaining.

This is Fox News

We recently got Fox News at home, the first chance for me to get a glimpse at that much reviled channel on the American right wing, which is an attempt to counter that noted allegation that reality has a liberal bias.

It's a very interesting channel to watch, and as a general trend it's probably getting as much air time at home as the proper news channels such as the venerable BBC News.

You may have rightly gotten the impression that our household takes it less then seriously, but it is hard to justify coming to any other conclusion about it. I have never seen as deliberate attempt to spin news as entertainment, and to keep it simple and stupid so as to not confuse the recipient too much by actually supplying them with information.

The formula itself is quite simply dissembled, there are many anchors, the issues are covered in a banter format and issues are dealt with frequently but always in tiny doses, measuring at most a few minutes. There is no attempt at indepth discussion, comprehensive analysis or the frequent procurment of experts to provide a depth of analysis that the news anchors are themselves incapable of providing.

The end result is news lite, an attempt to focus on inconsequential stories and a gloss on the important ones to treat them in a entertaining rather then substantive manner. It barely deserves to be called a news channel, but it certainly is enjoyable to watch, especially if you're actually informed on the issues they are presenting without any attempt to convey information because you can focus just on their slant.

I just wouldn't actually reccomend it for anyone who isn't informed, and given that the vast majority of the American public is woefully informed, Fox News is a rather depressing phenomenon.

The Law on Financial Derivatives

Sometimes inspiration can be found in the most surprising places. Sometimes it comes from the most obvious, just when the most obvious was looking like the most despairing. It seems miraculous, almost incredible, but I've found something in a University of Hong Kong class that actually interests me greatly.

This miracle maker is the area of financial derivatives. Now normally financial products don't excite anyone, except perhaps desperate insurance salesman, investment bankers who want to make partner and the individuals who share Li Ka Shing's asset class, so it is rather dubiously that I looked initially at my own interest. The motivation is simple: derivatives are actually incredibly nifty, effective and the first area of substantive intellectual challenge that I have encountered on my course.

A financial derivative, for those who are wondering what the hell they are, are things like options, futures contracts and more complex creatures such as swaps and credit derivatives. Now the idea essentially put is that it allows low up-front cost gambling on other things such as bonds and equities, so that people can get the benefit from being invested without actually putting up the cash upfront. In market savy Hong Kong I should really have to say no further [and in some areas like covered equity warrants, Hong Kong actually has significant retail activity, unlike a lot of other countries]

The simplest to explain and the most fundamental building block of the derivative market is the option. The option is a document that entitles the holder (upon the payment of a premium) to buy a share or a bond when it reaches a certain price within a certain time frame. The idea is that you have an option to buy 1000 shares at $2 in the next 6 months. After 2 months the price rises to $3, you can then exercise the option, and be put in the position as if you had bought at $2 and sold at $3, realising a thousand dollar profit. Normally this would have required you to actually buy a 1000 shares at $2, costing you $2000. The option on the other hand would probably have traded at considerably less then that, meaning that your actual return on money is substantially higher [return rates of a 1000% are easily doable given the right share option and market volatility]. Of course the flip sides is that if the market goes down, your option [after 6 months the share is only worth $2.50] is totally worthless as you would lose money if you exercised it. If you'd bought the shares you would at least have an asset albeit one that had depreciated in value.

What I really wanted to share anyway, was the satisfaction that comes from finally having a direction to which to apply my energy, and to have a topic that encourages me to find out more by myself, and can reward endeavor with depth even if in the end its an aspect of financial products and risk management, and not really that complicated as an issue of law. It's just good to find something that can drive that level of interest for me. Last year Public International Law and Company Law helped a great deal to drive through the year for me, and in the year before Tort played a very similar role. It's nice to have something like that back.

Sidenote: For the one lawyer that doesn't read my blog anyway, options were that weird thing in Vandervell (No.2) v. IRC and is how they did the mysterious vanishing act with the shares that were held by the RCS. That might not be of much help now, if it makes anything clearer, but I think I finally understand what the hell was going on there. And its probably likely as a matter of financial derivative law, that the court there got the decision abjectly wrong in its legal treatment of the option. I know, who cares.

Rise and Shine

I've been thinking about getting up bright and early lately. Back in Hong Kong, with the pressure off, I'm getting up leisurely at around 9:00 AM, drifting into the day at a leisurely pace before trying to get things into gear for a semi-productive four hour run into the evening with a view to getting enough work done to satisfy me.

What I've realised as I canter through life at this undemanding pace, is that to get up early is a very powerful thing. Time is an amazing resource, our most finite; the more we find hidden away the vaster the possibilities, and the more our boundaries can expand, and the more relaxing we can do and the more fun we can have. Who hasn't wished for more time?

I've been looking around at how to get myself organised ship shape for getting up with the birds, even finding the widely distributed and sage advise of Steve Pavlina on the subject, in one of the most widely distributed self-improvement articles that one can find on the web. His tips, while useful and probably highly effective (I tried them for a month and they worked well, and then the exams were over) do miss out on a substantial point that is underplayed.

In fact I just alluded to this point. The most important way to get out of bed in the morning is to have a reason that makes it worthwhile. If you have something that can inspire you to get out of bed, because you want to do that thing, because you look forward to it, then you will have no trouble getting up no matter what time is asked of you to rise.

I'll give you a personal example. On Wednesday, I agreed to play squash with a friend at 11:00AM. I was so keen to go and play squash (and I knew that i had to go buy a squash racket as well) that I was awake by 7:00, unable to sleep and quite fully wide awake. I got myself organised, buzzed around to set my things in order and was off at 10:00 to go shopping, normally a time when I would have just been getting to the end of breakfast and commencing a leisurely glance at the papers and the BBC for my news fix. This motivation, this reason, this purpose, is what enabled me to break just for that day my habit of late rising and instead be up at an early hour.

The flip side, and this is perhaps more of an interesting idea rather then a proved notion, is that this might be a reason that people tend to sleep so much nowadays, and sleep as late as they can. They have nothing that makes them want to get up, in fact they have something that they actively want to hide from. They do it through one of the most effective hiding mechanisms that people have: sleep. And so people sleep more and more, later and later, so that they can stretch out the good parts of the day, staying up late into the night, and minimise the time they can spend anticipating unpleasantness, arising as late as possible in the morning. At any rate it's just an idea, but one that I can't help feel fits the facts.

Attack of the Killer Non-Fiction

I've gone off fiction. That is a sweeping statement, so perhaps I should hedge my bets and clarify a little. I've gone of gritty, realistic fiction; set in the real world, with tight storylines, credible characters and tragedy anticipated in every page. They do not have the grip that I could rely on to be evoked by such works. I say this as someone who consumed Tom Clancy popcorn by the thousand page load.

My taste is developing a more escapist bent. I wish to read more alien works, things that are so distant from Earth that they become avenues to open the mind, not to explore the grim steps of mans mortal path. I suspect that JRR Tolkien is partially to blame, but I have had a strong interest in science fiction for a long time, and having last year read a huge pile of Drizzt et al, the trend has perhaps been accelerating. It will be a matter of finding the right quality of fantasy and science fiction writers.

The gap has been filled by non-fiction for now. For the first time in a long time, the UN Security Council, and institution I used to be obsessed with as a geeky MUNer has regained some interest for me, and I have been putting the vast archives of HKU to good use to supply me with some materials to build up my understanding of its role, decisions, actors, informal organisation and limitations again. The Public International Law course at Kings actually turned out to be of some use, as what could have been a demanding text which fuses many concepts of international law and institutional practice is instead quite easy sailing.

The other alternative that I have been contemplating is a return to philosophy. I spent a long time in the second year, especially at its end in reading what are the fundamental works. I worked my way through a substantial chunk of Plato's dialogues, and though I wouldn't pretend to remember them, I had the foresight to take, and hang on to, decent notes, which makes the dialogues substantially more accessible to me then they would have been otherwise at the second time around. I'm not entirely sure I'll return to philosophy, but I may be inclined that way, and I shall see as it were whether I go that way again or not.

Electronic CPR

So I have this trimmed down and tailored contact list, and found myself in the same position very nearly that I had trimmed down the contact list to avoid. I was talking to the same few individuals, initiating the majority of my conversations with them and not really using the opportunity that I had to talk to the wider range of people left behind from the radical purges of June.

It seemed to me that the chance was here for a different response. Before I had pre-emptively eliminated, decided who was superflous deadweight, getting in the way of me finding those that I wanted to talk to. Now I decided there was a chance for outreach, to enlarge my world with slow and steady steps to regain contact with all those on my list.

For the past 15 days, I've been living this process. I've tried to start talking with more and more people on my list, especially the ones from FMGamer that I've not been talking to for a while due to my ambivalence about the site. I've instead decided that they're still the same people that they were when I added them, and it was for a good reason usually (they were usually site staff, my record of reaching out into the unwashed masses is rather mediocre) and it would be both enjoyable and rewarding.

I haven't confined this expansion to just the FMG people either, a move that I have more trepidation about. I've started to include all the lapsed friends, people who I know but haven't really been keeping up with or making the effort to get in touch with. It's been a more mixed experience with them. Some have responded well, others quite tepidly, others have not responded at all. I'll make assessments of them at a later date.

Overall what its meant is that I've found more people to converse with and usually someone to pass a few hours with while I'm surfing the net or watching a tv show, allowing me to keep my multitrack mind occupied without feeling frustrated. Hopefully they have found it enjoyable and at least not a burden. Let's see how long it will continue.

Ashamed of a Mistake?

I recall a conversation with a teacher in the midst of my second year of university, where he sought to assure me that a mistake I made in class would not live long in the memory of others and I should not diminish my participation in class because of it. I recall it because of my reaction, which to him was surprising: why should I be ashamed of making a mistake?

If the response is perhaps not as clear as I perceive it to be, I shall elaborate. My reaction has always been that the sum of information in the world far exceeds my minute ability to assimilate knowledge. I can only know so much within the boundaries of time and human capacity. It follows that in certain aspects of my life I will make mistakes, perhaps on an ongoing and continuing basis, all the while unaware that I commit such egregious errors. At the very least things will be done in a sub-optimal manner.


My reaction, this unashamed commitment to making mistakes, is grounded in the realisation that the truism "nothing ventured, nothing gained" is absolutely true. In class a false statement is a beginning from which a teacher can correct, in life a mistake is a position from which someone else can begin to correct the position you find yourself in. You learn more from your mistakes, your efforts and your own false starts then you can ever learn from doing the perfect thing every time. You may not even understand why what you're doing is right, if you haven't done it wrong several times before.

What I find worse then error is indecision. The timidity of inaction, the paralysis of choice that is true damage, because without being committed nothing can be done to either solve the problem constructively or realise that you have a non-functional solution.

Perhaps what it boils down to is that I have little tolerance for wasted time, and time spent prevaricating on solutions, when the options have been considered, and weighed, where there is what the erudite Professor Raz calls an exclusionary reason for action - when you know what you ought to do - time spent in rationalisation and re-evaluation of an issue does not endear itself to me. Action has to be through, clearly thought out and then committed.

If you make a mistake, you wait for a proper point to asses your decision in the light of the new information that you have, and then you start again. Mistakes are part of life, and living is what we have to get on with.

The Will to Transcend Suffices

I've been reading a biography of Gaius Julius Caesar, a man of tremendous ability uniquely positioned at what he was to make one of the defining moments of history. I know that the 'great man' theory of history has fallen out of vogue with the modern establishment, instead capitulating to the notion that great potentialities create the necessary people to rise to the challenge inherent in their exploitation. Yet when you read a life of the Pontifex Maximus himself, you find it hard to believe that many others could have stepped into the role, and undertaken the risks with the necessary audacity or met with the same success. But indeed before Caesar there was Sullla, and before Sulla, there was Marius. Great names long forgotten to the everyday man, but their exploits made everything Caesar did possible.

One aspect that I think personifies many great men, and Caesar especially, is that they transcend the limitations of their circumstances. The world admits of a certain number of possibilities and believes that there is a prescribed range of actions that can be engaged in. Caesar, perhaps unwittingly, occupied a unique position as an outsider that allowed him to see through the institutions of his age: The Roman Senate, The Tribunate, The Consuls and the Consularis and to recognise a crisis at their core that left them unable to respond to the challenges of an expanding Roman empire ruled by a notional commonwealth of citizens.

This trait I believe to be one of the markers of true greatness. People who can understand their world around them, and perceive the flaws that others do not believe exist, or to identify when there is a disconnect between reality and the popular conception. That opens up a perspective to action that can allow a person to redefine their world in a way that is conventionally thought impossible. It is this ability to understand that there are more realities then the common reality, that the underlying facts are nuanced and capable of interpretation.

Can all of us transcend our circumstances? I believe that this is so. Is all that is required the presence of a certain stubbornness of vision and a ruthlessness of execution? I believe that this is so. Do we only have to be firm enough in the conviction that we are right to persevere to defy the limits of all those who came before us? I believe that this is so. Can this be for both good and evil? I believe that you have to at least think you're doing it for good. Even Caesar rationalised his dictatorship as an attempt to save the Republic from imminent collapse.

Sitting in Judgment

The concept of judgment is an unavoidable part of the life of both legal practioner and theologian. It is perhaps in fusion of these two distinct approaches to a common word that I craft my contextual understanding of the word when I talk of it now to you. We both crave to judge, be judged and to receive dispensation from judgment. As if humans weren't complex enough.

At the heart of many a human being is the desire to be accepted, to belong. The cathartic act of belonging is so vital that many ascribe large social destructive groups to this same desire for social identity. If you support one football club, you define yourself (partially if you're normal, entirely if you're an ultra) by this identification with a group. This is a strongly judgmental drive, operating at the collective level. We talk of us and them, East and West and a multitude of variations of this concept. The idea is simple; us the great and good, against them the not so good and frankly mediocre. We may not vocalise it as that, but the judgment is collective and comprehensive; our values are better and righter then your values. And you may not know it, but it is okay becuase we do.

On the other hand we have a strong desire to be individuals, and not only to be individual but to be free from the consequences of our individuality. One of those trivial stories that encompass many a childhood for me is the day when a class mate got what may be described with faint exaggeration as a most ridiculous hair cut. When I met him, I looked, nodded and smiled. The greatfulness of his look was almost palpable; he told me that I was the first person who had seen him that day and not laughed. Its an event I've taken to heart as perhaps the strongest marker of the value of non-judgmental behaviour that I have ever encountered. There are other events, that in retrospect aslo should stand testament to me of the value of non-judgment, but my reader is wise and one example should suffice them.

And of course we have the desire to be judged. We want to know when we're making gaffes, when we've erred or when there is an easier course available to us. We want the feedback, the reinforcement, the criticism that is so essential to any improvement of either methodology or individuality. We don't want to be stuck in a rut, and certainly most people are aware that they are assessing themselves in a continual process as they interact with the rest of the world. At the same time of course, we don't want this judgment to be too harsh, because the full fury of judicial scrutiny is often too harsh to be taken on an every case basis.

I have no idea how people balance these notions of their self and external judgment, or whether any question of balance is even viable. It seems that we clatter from one extreme to another, self-doubt (which is nothing more then pre-judging ourselves) to mass societal condemnation (which is collective judgment usually without facts) to victory and vindicatoin (judgments accepted to be worng) without any worries about the conceptual clarity of what we do on a daily basis or why we do it. I just know that not judging seems to go down with people a lot better then holding the standards of Cato or Gladstone, but at the same time, I find myself unable to refrain every day and in every circumstance from passing judgment.

Conceiving Others

Think of a person. Not a stranger. Preferably a friend. Now imagine them with no clothes on. Imagine it in detail. Bumps, curves, folds of fat, body hair. Now Imagine them taking a dump. Imagine them having sex. Imagine them having sex with someone specific. If you're particularly daring, imagine it with you. You are no doubt feeling awkward by now, so I will desist. If you're not, do it with a friend who is just a friend in mind. Perhaps one of the same gender to make things more clear.

This is what I call the human conception thesis. There is no snappy acronym, stop looking for one.

We think of people in a very particular way, depending on how we categorise them. But we never ever think of them in terms of basic biological function. We never think of people as people in the most common sense that we are all people. We just don't. And that to me is interesting. I know this doesn't apply to strangers, the notion of a sex symbol puts paid to that. The ultimate body detached from its consciousness is what a sex symbol represents.I don't have any explanation or insight to offer here. I'm just puzzled.

On the other hand with people we know we relate to people as heads. To their heads as if they were just brains. To their brains as if we were only interested in their consciousness, that ethereal ghost in the machine. The actual mechano pieces are uninteresting to us until they malfunction. Why do we work like that? Do we work like that or it just civilised to work like that?

And don't you think its interesting that we do?

Positioning Yourself

I confess to being confused. If you've ever perchance stumbled on to the beating geek epicenter of the Internet vanguard, the tech blog dubbed slashdot.org you will have run into a variety of jokes and references to the actress Natalie Portman as a sex symbol. Now I appreciate that the audience I refer to is not the most discerning outside of technical specifications but I'm beyond perplexed how this childish looking girl approximates anything like a sex symbol. I just don't see it.

I can certainly understand that part of her cachet is the association with that true Nerd institution, the Jedi Knight and the Star Wars movies, in her almost infamous role of Padme Amidala, the raison'd'etre of Darth Vader's misanthropy, she might have in a certain way captivated this audience. It seems odd though that the role in a movie, in a role that has absolutely nothing to do in terms of sex appeal and that doesn't even use sex appeal as a calling card to secure its audience that she would gather this kind of momentum.

If anything Natalie Portman's problem as a an actress is that she is entirely the opposite, having never been able to shed the child like image that she acquired in Leon and that her physical appearance actually seems to encourage. She instead is actually guilty of trying too hard to look and be mature, evidenced in movies like Closer where she deliberately tried to undo her child star stereotype by pushing the boundaries of taste in the rash connection that raciness equated to adulthood. A legion of 15 year old teenagers I'm sure would have been able to disabuse her of that notion. She seems to be doing risque because risque is expected, instead of the sort of conviction that defines maturity.

On the other hand you have the Queen of Reinvention, a person who has invented herself and her image so many times that she is the cliche of the reinvented stereotype. The person who can take their old image, discern where parts of it are either dated or common and the excise those parts and renew her image to critical and commercial success on an unprecedented and sustained scale. I of course am talking about Madonna. A constant theme of any new album release by Madonna is here new and ship shape image; people almost don't even have time to talk about the music because they are so caught up in the fantasy of her resurrection.

It is this ability and distinction between Madonna style auto genesis, recreating her self image herself on a regular basis, and Portman style stagnation the self image that is my focus. It is my focus because I'm concerned with the art of the possible, and it seems seductively true that Madonna defines the art of the possible. It is possible actually to completely reinvent your image to the outer world. You can find that niche, that image to position yourself as a brand in the same sense that Nike positions trainers and Coca Cola positions soft drinks. Markets need a Gatorade, Nescafe and a Coke, because different people are looking for different things, and in the same way they are looking for different people depending on what they are looking.

The interesting thing is that very few people think of how they're positioning themselves when they are dealing with the wider world. They don't think in terms of generating the interest by being particularly unique or outstanding. No effort is made to place themselves in the social market in the same sense that they would accept as common sense that a product had to be to sell to people. People after all are simple creatures, they are attracted to defining by pithy sentence. They want to pigeon hole people to make them easy to understand. Gary is the basketball guy, James is the guitar person and Mohammed is the Muslim nutter. There of course is no necessary connection to reality, but reality and people are barely on the same planet most of the time so who can blame the mind for that.

What we need to do is actually take ownership of this positioning, to be self-creating in defining where people pigeon hole us so that we can gain the maximal benefit from that process, instead of waiting for chance and circumstance, and whats worse the deliberate action of other people to place us in what they consider our niche to be, which will be whatever convenient space they have left over in their mental filing space, or whatever odd attribute they decide to latch on to first. Hardly a result to be desired.

The Five Minute Rule

Inspired by the comments and suggestions of some people, who comprise the most effective people that I know off, I've recently adopted a little efficiency gimmick that has made for an interesting change.

The rule simply stated is: Anything that requires less then five minutes of your time to do should be done instantly. This means that a lot of small stuff is done straight away. And you'll be suprised how many tasks can be done in just five humble minutes.

It actually increases substantially your efficiency, especially in relation to other people. An email can often be returned in a few mintues, as can a phone call, an sms or other small gestures. Things that are in the way are put away, small things are done that would otherwise get left to procrastination and delayed indefinately by the desire to keep working, in whatever manner and however unproductive, on the big project that is supposedly the focus of the hour. A smaller yet significant side effect is that you get a productivity boost by actually doing things that are pending. You don't let yourself off by letting the small stuff slide.

Now i'm not saying that there are not certain times that you need to lock down and do away with all distractions as you go towards doing what is necessary, but that at the same time this is not the same as thinking you are being productive when you're not and disguising procrastination as proactivity. A hundred small things when added together can often be the equivelent of many big things, and these hundred small things is what acts as the finishing touches to any productive effort.

THES

The Times Higher Education Supplement (THES) recently published one of its most bite sized bits of propaganda for those who wish to organize their forays into the ivory towers of academia. The annual ranking of universities proposes to authoritatively distinguish between the competing thrusts of universities to be the premier academic institution in the world.

Now my interest is not with the top of the table, for its not likely that I’m to ever wonder down such prestigious hallways, but I have the almost mocking joy of sitting in the lecture theaters of the 33^rd best university in the world, the University of Hong Kong and scrolling down to see my undergraduate experience at Kings College London assessed as being of lesser worth then the paper conferred by the Post-Colonial brick and mortar of HKU.

The incredibility knows no bounds.

To assert that HKU is better then KCL, you have to either be deluded to the highest degree or have no experience of those institutions. Certainly in the context of the respective Faculties of Law the battle is so lopsidedly in favour of The Strand that Bonham Road doesn’t stand a chance.

Teachers
An institution is defined by people, and the most important people in any educational institution are the teachers. The craftsman is always more important then the material, and the same is true when you are molding people as when the material is gold and gems. KCL had some duds and deadweights, Emma Ford was prominently noted as one, but on the whole there were few teachers who were less informed, able and better prepared then their students.

The teachers in HKU, as controversial as the position may sound, are divided by ethnicity. The teachers of Caucasian origin are substantially more lucid, organized, determined, informed and responsive then their native counterparts. Imagine my horror that having realized this fact, to then learn that HKU is determined to pursue a course of nativisation, to promote as far as it finds it tenable to promote those of yellower skin faster and higher then perhaps they can merit, to cultivate and develop committed domestic talent. Unfortunately it means you have substandard teachers in the meantime that does not suggest any true possibility of training a coming generation that will be any more then they are.

Organisation
Teachers need support, and this is one area where the results are mixed. At KCL the staff in the office could be frustrating beyond belief when you had to deal with them on any issue but generally the teachers themselves were supremely organized. Material was planned months in advance and you would know the precise amount of work that you would need to do for every week of the year usually by the close of the first week of term if you were so inclined to work it out. At HKU on the other hand information is dripped out on a week by week basis. Lecture handouts appear slowly, tutorial handouts appear on a random basis and the reading lists when they are distributed seem to bare faint resemblance to what is actually covered in the lecture. When the reading and the lecture do align, it is usually to confirm how futile actually doing the reading is. The teacher fully plans to repeat every word in the reading in the lecture, usually because they are right to estimate that none or very few of the students have done their homework.

Their Students
The students at HKU are also of a weird type. There is an impressive mix of international students on exchange programs who are usually very well developed and rounded individuals who are knowledgeable and practical as well as involved in class. There are also a high amount of local professionals who could contribute but there key limitation seems to be time with their work commitments taking the most out of them.

The proper full time local students are utterly disappointing. Their greatest flaw to my eyes is their insular attitude towards knowledge and a shocking timidity towards venturing information. They do not share any of the knowledge that they have and this makes it strikingly unprofitable for the rest of us who do feel inclined to contribute. It’s a mentality that I don’t think can be changed, being root and branch integrated into the Hong Kong educational mentality but teachers also fail to break their students out of this mentality, which I feel that Kings teachers were exceptionally aware of and the good ones strove consciously to create class participation and were willing to pick on people to force involvement in the class. HKU teachers seem to be scared of class participation. And sometimes they should be, cause their students can expose their lack of knowledge. I know for a fact that one of my teachers has been wrong on multiple occassions.o:p>

Conclusion
The numbers given to the THES are lying and I think anyone who has ever experienced the difference between HKU and a proper high quality educational institution will be well aware of this inferiority in their educational ability. The suggestion that they can actually compete at the world class level is sadly mistaken, and it will take a solid root and branch reform of mentality, both of their students and their staff to actually create a teaching environment capable of producing strong productive members of society that will have the depth that is needed,

The World As It Really Is

Peeping through my keyhold I see within the range of only about 30 percent of the light that comes from the sun; the rest is infrared and some little ultraviolet, perfectly apparent to many animals, but invisible to me. A nightmare network of ganglia, charged and firing without my knowledge, cuts and splices what I see, editing it for my brain. Donald E. Carr points out that the sense impressions of one-celled animals are not edited for the brian: 'This is philosophically interesting in a rather mournful way, since it means that only the simplest animals perceive the universe as it is.

Annie Dillard
Pilgrim at Tinker Creek

Pandora's Music Box

If you haven't done so already, I invite you to cluster around the latest musical phenomenon to be enabled by the Internet. Now this is neither a Myspace Record Label nor is it the newest pirates cutlass designed to liberate copyrighted works from the nasty financial clutches of their owner. Instead it is a pairof projects that are designed to use the power of the Internet to change the way that we deal with music forever both as a cultural product and a shared social experience. Two sites are in the vanguard of this revolution, the aptly named Last.fm and the poetic treasure that is Pandora. I've used both of them, and while Last.fm has a true depth and a sense of social community to it that encourages, if you're after the best musical experience, you should pursue Pandora.

The idea behind the technology powering Pandora is as labour intensive as it is brilliant. The dedicated souls of the Music Genome Project, which is affiliated to Pandora, have gone and listened to many thousands of major artists and tens of thousands of individual tracks, and then proceeded to label tracks by what distinguishes them and what essential musical structures they share. For some genres this means cataloging a paltry hundred attributes, for more complex genres such as Blues and Jazz, something in the order of three times that number have been compiled. Esoteric information such as 'major'/ 'minor key tonality' or 'use of the wah-wah pedal' abounds.

They then created the Pandora client, which is the front end that the humble user gets to see, to act as a player to sit on top of these vast repositories of information, and which could stream over the Internet the tracks that were described in the database.

How it all actually works is surprisingly simple. You go to the Pandora page, and it loads in Flash. You enter the name of the song or artist that you have a fondness for. If you wish for a wider range of sounds, depending on the depth of the artist that you have a inclination towards, choosing the artist's name will give you a wider range of musical works then you get for a particular song, which will have a narrower musical basis. They then create a radio station for you. A personalised radio station. And you can have up to a 100 of them. This radio station you created will play music that is identified to be similar to the music you chose to start with. It may play the music that you explicitly selected, or another track by the same person, but this is not guaranteed, because the legal conditions under which Pandora operates requires that it not allow users to request an individual track, or to do anything that would be equivalent to requesting an individual track.

You listen to the music, if you like it, give it a thumbs up and the tunes keep rolling. If you dislike it, a thumb down will make the track disappear. Two thumbs down for the same artist will result in them being purged forever from your listening life, unless you've previously given them a thumbs up for another song, in which case only the two offending songs are confined to purgatory for their musical transgressions. You can also get a lot of information from the Pandora site about the artist, the song, why that particular song is being played and to keep track of what is currently in the popular buzz.

So far I've used Pandora to set up two radio stations that I've decided to keep. The first was seeded by a band that James introduced me to named Swtichfoot, known for their intelligent lyrics for my part, though the music itself is pretty good listening as well. From that it spawned a bevy of bands that it reckoned were the equal of Switchfoot musically, and sure enough, even with a few false starts, I soon made my first discovery, finding that every time I flipped back to the player to find out what was the song that sounded so good, that it inevitably originated from the band Feeder, which if I can find any more music off, I may well buy.

The second time I started from a Song. Specifically it was Leroy's Good Time which features in the first season of Scrubs and is on their Soundtrack. If you have an encyclopedic memory of Scrubs, its the third episode in which Dr. Kelso sings "Are you having a good time?" I didn't think that you would. Anyway, it again proved very consistent at picking out the sound that the track represented and managed to find rafts of music that was almost all exceptionally good and faithful to the original seed. While no one band has caught my eye yet, this station is only a few hours old, and I'll be likely listening to it for the next few days without any doubts.

There are three major downsides to Pandora. The first is the limited skipping that I mentioned before, but if you've given it a good sense of what you like by inputting an artist worthy in your eyes of that sobriquet, you shouldn't find yourself too vexed by this, as most of the tunes will be enjoyed. The second rather major limitation in theory is that it is only currently open to USA residents as their legal streaming licence only extends itself so far. If the notion that in the Internet age a website should be limited by the geographical limits of the law has you chuckling, then you're right to be so dismissive. It doesn't take a genius to find a US Zip Code on the Internet to bypass thei 'admittedly not trying very hard attempt' at verifying that you are resident in the US of A. Finally and perhaps the most severe complaint on my part, they haven't included any Classical music at all in their collection, stemming from an inability to understand how they should begin to classify it and tie it together, or perhaps even what genetic markers can be identified as probative in classical music towards encoding useful information. It's a pretty big gap, and one critical advantage that Last.fm possesses over this young upstart.

All in all Pandora has made me, the ordinarily unmusical, much more willing to listen to music and bestowed an intuitive way of finding things that I will actually enjoy listening to rather then the musical pond scum that rises to the top through marketing and flesh appeal rather then any musical qualities. Finding music that you enjoy, because it speaks to you, is part of the cultural value of music in the first place and why it is relevant at all.

But then Pandora might not be as omniscient as all that, after all I'm currently listening to Jessica Simpson.

Water and Soap

I read sites like this and I can't help but wonder if anyone still undestands the concept of an immune system. The link summarised briefly points out what a scam drinking water is when sold in bottles for the price of an expensive drink. We know that water costs peanuts when taken from home and our taps. Usually in the Civilized world, this water is far in excess of potable standards. In fact the manufacturers know that too. What we pay for instead is the supposed peace of mind that comes from having our drinking water come from a sterile inspected source, therefore guarenteeing that it is free of the nasty microbiological that can so drastically undermine our quality of life.

I have the same difficulty with anti-bacterial soaps that actually incorporate active anti-bacterial agents into them that are designed to eliminate the microbes, another marketing offspring to cater to the Human Protection Movement What they are doing is clearing off the benign bacteria on theingredients surface of the skin that often has the important function of taking up so many resources that nothing really nasty can get the toehold that it requires to flourish. Instead we use the nuclear option, reset the growth area to a dead wasteland and require that all species grow again from scratch, presuming that the good will regrow at the same speed or faster then the evil. A further worry is evidence that all bacteria is evolving to develop immunity to these common anti-bacterials, making them useless when we might actually have a reason to kill the bacteria other then the thought of 'Ick!! Germs.". Now I'll admit that the actual evidence so far is that this is not the case, but the same surveys also confirm that plain old soap is just as good as the $50.00 soap from some premium brand with its fancy anti-bacterial features.

As I understand it, immune systems function by identifying and eliminating hostile bacteria. And the more they are exposed to the stronger it gets and the better it becomes at doing its job. The more hostile bacteria it operates against, the better the overall systemic response is. It has its own systems that help determine what is dangerous and what is benign. We are depednant on benign bacteria for large parts of the digestive process and they do a pretty important job in other parts of our body as well to keep us waking up from day to day. Hygenic conditions are important but lost somewhere in the marketing mulch is the understanding that a little bit of dirt is equally important. You need to be exposed to a little systemic upset to keep everything in top gear, yet this significant fact seems to be totally forgotten by all those who should keep it in their sights, and especially by neurotic parents, determined that somehow they will prevent their child from suffering any harm at all.

Being Poor

If you are literate and capable of empathy, then I feel it incumbent upon you to read this. Not later, not soon, not when you have the spare time; you need to read it now. If you wish any real appreciation of what the poor go through, in the richest parts of the planet, then you need to read this. If you have the inclination, read the comments that span vast tracks of the bottom of the page, and realise the intensely personal impact this had on so many people.

Some of it is from a vividly american perspective, but I feel that a lot of it could be generalised to a lot of the first world. It doesn't even begin to deal with poverty in the developing world, which is a whole different and even more troubling problem.

A Very Simple Whatsit

A "whatsit" is perhaps the most endearing gimmick you will stumble across this sleepy Monday. A simple concept designed for a simple end. Put succinctly, a 'whatsit' is an item worn which is either anomalous, individual or calling for further information provided by the person garbed in it. Its purpose is to give people who want to talk to you, a reason to talk to you, and to give people a reason to strike up a conversation who otherwise would not, enthralling them by their own curiosity.

Now understanding the gimmick, plenty of instances jump to mind where you have responded to such a design, and it is entirely likely that neither yourself nor the person presenting the object thought that this was an aspect of what they were doing. It's why people where items that 'stand out' why people will don extravagant clothing or the latest cutting edge apparel. It marks you as unique and confident individual, worthy of further inquiry about and the kind of person we all want to know.

It is an excellent way to break the ice or to start a conversation. You are talking to the person about something likely that is unique or individual to themselves, something from which they either derived or depended upon at some point and which forms a part of their character that hopefully they are willing to talk about. It is the foothold that has to be created by contrivance, hollowed from the rock, but that enables the foot to find secure purchase for a higher accent if done correctly.

If you are the wearer of a 'whatsit' try to ensure that what you pick has a story, a value, a position embroidered into its fabric, that inquiries about it will not be futile, and result in generic answers discovered from the packaging that the 'whatsit' came in, hoping that the uniqueness of the object as opposed to that of its story is where the real charm lies. Stories are the roots of information and interaction, and a starting ramp that launches one into a dead end, will cause many more accidents then a mere brick wall.

Try it out.

TED Talks

I wish to draw you attention to perhaps the most interesting website that I have ever found on my short sojourn accross the world wide web. TEDTalks are a series of highlight speaches given at the semi-famous TED Conference.

TED is an invitation only conference with a very simple premise: gather the 1000 most brilliant minds of the year, the people doing the most signficant and innovative things, and let's us bring them together so that we can learn and hopefully synthesize some of their experiences for the benefit of all. You have great politicians, academics, economists and designers; people who in every sense of the word meet aptly claim the laurel of visionary. Hundreds of thousands, if not many millions of lives are impacted by what they do on a daily basis, or by what they did, and they have a unique insght into what makes great change possible on our planet.

The real beauty of TED is that all participants are capped at 15-20 minute presentations and all their information has to be presented inside that short space of time, making the lectures immensely watchable and very very interesting. If you've got time, the page linked above has many more links, of which almost all would be a worthy investment of time.

If you think that this isn' you thing, then lend me just 15 minutes of your time (for being no Mark Antony, I do not ask for your ears), and watch perhaps the most interesting, and for my contempories, the most relevant talk that you will ever hear in your life, that will help you understand a lot about the current education system delivered by Sir Ken Robinson. That will convince you to look at the rest.

If you do fell emboldened to look at others, grace the presentations by Ashraf Ghani [Ex-Finance Minister of Afganistan], Dan Gilbert [Professor of Psychology at Harvard], Barry Schwartz [Author of the book The Paradox of Choice] and Malcolm Gladwell [Author of the Tipping Point]. Go be enthralled while being educated.

Our Respected Guest

O Allah, This is the month of Ramadan, in which descended the Holy Quran as guidance to mankind, and a divider [between truth and falsehood]. O Allah, bless us in this month, and give us Your help and accept our prayers, for certainly you have power over all things.

There is no God but Allah, we seek His forgiveness. O Allah, we ask you for Paradise and protection from Hellfire

- English translation of a prayer said by the Dawoodi Bohras during the month of Ramadan

I don't write about religion, and certainly not mine. Not here at any rate. And not before now. In a month that is dedicated to prayer, fasting, piety and purity it seems an appropriate time to start.

The month of Ramadan is considered to be a unique blessing for Muslims. These 30 days are personalized, talked of as a great and honorable guest, whose presence represents an opportunity for the pious at heart, to sow great rewards in both this life and the hereafter. This personification is addressed, beseached and requested, used as an intermediary and as a representative in the presence of the Divine. This is the orthodox line, the position that’s taken in all the literature. It is a month to be honoured.

Yet I find no one is actually thinking like this Everyone is seeing Ramadan as a burden, waiting for the day of Eid-ul-Fitr. Their calendars are out, even by the very first night, to calculate just how long they will have to wait for, when the 30 days will come to an end and they will be free to enjoy feasting and food again. All the talk centers on where we’ll be in four weeks time, what joy will await us on a Monday similar to this one in a fortnights time, and things in a similar manner repeated ad nauseum.

I find it personally an odd way to welcome a guest. There is the initial ceremony of welcome, great drama pomp and presentation, all designed to show the veneration that this august visitor deserves. Then as soon as perhaps they have settled into a chair, the questioning turns a shade nastier. How long precisely does our guest intend to stay? Will he be staying here all the time? Are they sure? Inconvenience, no off course its no inconvenience. Questions in a similar vein continue.

Now this just seems to be the rankest hypocrisy to me, this constant mouthing of an ideal and the constant back stabbing to undermine it expressed almost within the same breath. Even if it is in your heart, you don’t need to say it aloud, and pervade that thought through the minds of everyone, like the point of the month is the finishing line, and that is where our attention should be drawn. Keep these thoughts to yourself, the finish line is neither here not there, and if it is relevant to your treatment of your guests. You should treat them as well on their first day as you intend to treat them to their last.

To me, I’m more interested in the intermediate markers, the every day prayers to attend, the shiouri to do in the mornings, the small baby steps that make up the whole process, which can be reconciled with the proper respect due our honorable guest.

As my mum points out, this is the nature of people. They’re not going to be any different, and it’s hypocritical but true that they will continue to behave in this way, and will not see anything out of the ordinary in doing so. Human reaction to hypocrisy more often then not, is 'so what?'. It is so endemnic so pervasive and so normal, that my indignation at hypocrisy is considered abnormal in a manner of speaking. I’m not so accepting; but I think that I shall have to keep my peace. After all the people saying this are the entrenched senior members of my community, and I don't see any need to make myself a false martyr by challenging them.

Comical Entertainment

If you’ve looked at the links section on my blog, you may have grasped that in addition to an obsession with Football Manager (which sadly is fading away), I have a penchant for reading online comics. Its not confined to just the online ones, and dead tree comics with a offbeat twist, notoriously Calvin & Hobbes are great favorites of mine.

Its not a trait I’ve found that anyone in my limited circle of friends tends to share and it’s a bit surprising with the tremendous amount of really well written and drawn material out there that no seems interested. At the same time I’m more then well aware that people are interested in their own things and that in certain circles, mainly geographically confined to the USA, there are some very big comics online such as Penny Arcade and PvP.

The magic of comics for me lies in their elegant simplicity, they have a very simple gimmick, panels, characters and speech balloons more often then not, but are combined with elegance to then create what are sometimes very perceptive and articulate points of view, showing a depth of analysis and understanding that it takes many hundreds of words to convey in literary form. It’s the art of storytelling compressed to a single potent image or sequence of images, which requires tremendous ability to pick out the one significant factor in what may otherwise be a complicated series of events.

At the same time, as a medium unashamedly proud of its genre as entertainment, they’re usually out to entertain at the same time, strengthening their message by making it more pervasive and persuasive at the same time. People are inclined to dismiss something as light, as not high culture enough because it is entertaining, but it is much more the case I think that entertaining makes the effect, rather then diminishing it. It can make the impact greater then any psuedo intellectual seriousness can ever hope to achieve

What a potent mix is entertainment and information.

Things Learned at School

I’ve been bouncing around a couple of writing sites, just looking for the odd tip hint or topic that might spark my fancy and give wings to my writing again. I went through a intensive burst a little while back, and it seems that I consumed all that was available to spend for the last few weeks.

I found myself intrigued by a little auto-suggestion generator, that popped up topics that it suggested that you should write about just to use as an exercise. It came up with a lot of suggestions, some that I ideally flicked through just to get a feel of the prompter, others that I rejected because they were either too tangential or too personal.

One of the ones that stuck with me as I flicked on by was the invitation to write about ten things that I learned at school that weren’t on the curriculum, and that made me think of just that. I may not have ten things to list, I’m doing this off the top of my head after all on the faintest of whims, so we’ll see were we end up. If you want sappy stories of days gone by, sung to the tune of "these are the days of our lives", well be warned; I don’t really do that. The lessons I think I learned at school outside of class are quite negative ones.

1. Money is nice, but having the personality and ability of a pot plant and all the money in the world is still failure.

The Paris Hilton hypothesis I guess this would be called now, but international schools do have a certain type of people going ot them, and they very rarely turn out to be wonderful exciting people while they’re adolescents. I’m not precluding their ability to become decent human beings at 25. Just that most of the people with a lot of money and the intellectual capacity of a tsetse fly are never going to be on my list of good things.

2. Hong Kong Chinese are not friendly people

Yeah talk about starting on a soft one, but all my exposure to my same aged peers of local Chinese extraction produced what can be considered as 90% negative outcomes, with people who weren’t bothered to get to know anyone outside their real comfort zone. Now back at HKU, I’ve found myself experiencing the same phenomenon. I’ve talked to Mainland Chinese, Dutchman, Australians and a slew of other nationalities, but not one local hong kong student has been inclined to talk. Its just weird. There is a caveat. Locals who go somewhere and then come back, make up some of the best people I know, and are actually some of the most astute, benifitting from both worlds. This doesn't apply to them.

3. Stereotypes hold through, 90% of the time

A white boy is going to behave a certain way in the international school set. A brown boy who acts like a white boy, is going to behave in another entirely predictable way. A yellow boy who acts like a white boy is going to act in another entirely predictable way. Boys aren’t special either, girls are the same too. If you know the template, you can get a lot of the picture accurately without having to worry about what the precise details are. Oh sure there are going to be fine details that the broad brush strokes I’ve painted above will miss, but the fine details are rarely relevant. If 90% of a person changes, you have a very different person.

4. People matter a great deal, but I still don’t like most of them

This warm thought was developed really in my reaction to graduation from Island School, which in its essence for me felt like a true non-event. Others may speak of the lifelong bond of friendship forged at a young age with apt nostalgia, they were young a long time ago, but I suspect that in the end I’ll take maybe 3 friends with me on my journey outwards, and to be honest I suspect that’s not a bad haul. What’s more interesting is the people I’ve realized in hindsight that I don’t really like, that were sometimes reasonably close in school, and people otherwise of good standing. Even more interesting is the people that I didn’t realize I really liked at the time who I got on quite well with at the end and for a long while afterwards.

5. One person can change the lives of many if they truly want to.

This was the ethos of Island School, and if we had a school motto, perhaps we would have inscribed this appropriately deified in the Latin script to give august inspiration to our students. But instead the institution breathed its logos at us, and yet left me totally unmoved by it. I’m not sure why, but I probably was the least concerned person in Island School about a tremendous variety of causes that everyone else was involved in. I guess I’m not really fussed about changing the world.

6. When all is said and done, I’m actually a very conservative person

Island school abounded with arts and crafts, opportunities for skills and talents to be learned and displayed, and my response to it was really to shun it all. Inside my pretty traditional Islamic viewpoint, singing and dancing is much more smoke, mirrors and pseudo-intellectual seduction then a meaningful activity. Besides, I never really liked the arts anyway.

7. Respect is a fluid concept

This little gem Mr. Adams [initials PDA, another one of the tech orientated physics department], my year 13 physics teacher taught me, and others have taught it to me subsequently, but his incompetence and general nonchalance about said incompetence gave him only fifteen minutes of glory in my eyes, and an eternity of dismissive treatment. Mrs. Ferns might get special mention here, but she just makes me angry, and we don’t want it to be personal. I’ve written a lot about respect before on the blog in the horizontal context, but vertical authority respect was first destroyed by the venerable PDA.

I guess this is the end of the list, because certainly I can’t think of any others. In some perspectives the list is extraordinarily negative, that the aspects I’ve selected are rather harsh and unforgiving of my secondary school experience. But I suspect that may well be the case for me. I went to school to get an education, I didn’t want more and so I really didn’t get more either. I didn’t need it to provide me with a social life or with things to do or people to do it with. I never had an interest in people, so it never gave me those people that might cultivate such an interest. School was a nice place to visit, and the football was excellent. But in some respects, I'm glad I didn't stay.