It never fails: Every time I resolve to blog more I actually wind up blogging less. Maybe I should promise to blog less to begin with. Somehow, I don’t think that would work too well. This pitiful little entry will have to do for now, while I think up more interesting things to say…
My new glasses are ready at HourEyes. Nobody called. Today, I called, and there they were, waiting for me. Bad timing, though: my friend Sam was going to take me out to lunch the next time I was down around K Street, but she’s not working on K Street today.
One of the other things I can do in that neighborhood is go to Penn camera, so I loaded up a USB drive with a few good photos that should be printed. They are also photos with a lot of black that I wouldn’t have printed on an ink-jet printer - they need to be done on real photo paper instead. Maybe I won’t print them all, but it would be nice to return home with a couple prints to help me calibrate my eyes to the screen… That is, be sure I’m not going to get something wildly different on the paper from what I see when I’m editing them at home.
I had a programming idea while I was in the shower. Class inheritance and operator overloading is so easy in Ruby that I though I should be able to add an operation to floating point numbers to calculate the value of two electronic components wired in parallel. Then, as with some fancy circuit analyzer package, I could do my own charts of electronic circuit responses, like monte-carlo variations or frequency response in linear circuits. I didn’t think it all the way through, though: Getting software objects to combine with an arithmetic-like syntax is easy enough, but passing in a frequency parameter to such an expression is not so easy. I’ll need to be able to pass in the expression using internalized symbols along with a value substitution or frequency parameter. It’s got something to do with blocks, maybe, but then I’m going to need a circuit object to read in the expression and “simulate the interconnection” of the components… I lathered up with soap standing in the tub, and then the water cut off.
Probably be back in a few seconds, right?
No. They’re back at it, screwing aroung with the plumbing on the second floor. I waited until after my roommate left for work, which is how it happened that I was taking a shower at 10am, and not 7am. I heard the tell-tale hammering on pipes. I screamed at the top of my lungs and banged first on the wall, then on the tub, apparently no one heard - or they just ignored it. I’m pretty sure they don’t speak English, anyway.
But they did this yesterday afternoon - a Sunday - and when I looked, it was just one little sink in for the whole floor. Clearly, they must have a bathroom, with a sink and a toilet, and the corresponding need to shut off my water, but why couldn’t they install all the valves they needed in one session, then never turn the mains off ever again? I said it out loud: “Some day they’re going to shut that thing off while I’ve got soap in my eyes!”.
The prophesy has been fulfilled.
Posted in ontology, programming | no comments | no trackbacksPosted by Evan Bittner
Mon, 10 Nov 2008 18:25:00 GMT
Check out this article “Intentional action and Asperger Syndrome” in Psychology Today. I spotted it in BoingBoing.
I’m disappointed at the lack of analysis in the article. Would you like to hear MY theory?
Think of side-effects: Results of an action are sometimes inseparable. We seek a desired result, and in the process we get some inseparable side-effect. So far, so good? Sometimes we require that separation and won’t settle for a particular side-effect. But, that is not usually what is on offer, so we have to keep searching. That extra time spent searching is experienced as a cost, too. We will sometimes take the lesser of two evils - supposing we actually do that cost-benefit analysis.
In the article, the two related examples differ in the side-effect: In one example, the goal of getting the biggest smoothie means also getting a commemorative cup you didn’t want. In the other example getting the biggest smoothie means paying an extra dollar. The researchers asked: Do you experience these side-effects as an intentional choice?
In a sense, when you make a choice, you are signing on to all the side-effects - even ones you don’t know about. So I understand the point of view that any side-effect you are aware of immediately becomes a part of your intent.
The article contends, assuming I still remember it accurately, that a person with Asperger’s syndrome does not experience those side-effects as intentional at all, whereas a normal person (control group?) makes distinctions: the unwanted commemorative cup vs. spending the extra dollar.
I think I agree to a lot of side-effects that I regret - and I can’t stand to admit that I agreed to them, so claiming them as my “intent” seems wrong. It manifests as a feeling that I didn’t get enough choices to really get what I intended. I can live with the poor choices I am forced to make to ‘satisfice’, but that doesn’t mean I have to accept them as my intention.
Not the cup or the dollar.
Posted in ontology | no comments | no trackbacksPosted by Evan Bittner
Thu, 06 Nov 2008 03:31:00 GMT
It is very cold in my apartment, for reasons that I do not understand. Only a few weeks ago, workmen came to test the radiators - it was a success. The radiators proved that they could get hot when it was not necessary for them to be hot. Today they need to be hot and they aren’t. I have exercised the “stay in bed” option, after trying out the “walk around in slippers”, and the “drink hot liquids” options. It’s like I’m living in the woods or something.
Look on the bright side, though: I like gloomy fall weather. It threatened rain all day yesterday, then finally delivered. Today I assumed from the weather maps I saw that a cold front would pass by and the sky would clear. So far it has not happened. I thought heavy wind usually drove away the clouds (notably not true in a hurricane - but is that usual?).
I don’t talk much about sports here - mainly because I don’t care - but, last night was potentially the closing game of the World Series, and my roommate Phil invited me to come out and watch part of it on the big screen TV at the Reef… So we braved the cold drizzle to have a pint and watch some baseball. Phil is rooting for the Phillies, and when we get into a conversation about it, I occasionally introduce myself to people as Ray. (Some of you won’t get that joke, but I can assume these people will - just tailoring my performance to the audience…)
Maybe I should bite the bullet and get up - take a hot shower, put on several layers of clothing (maybe a coat, too)… I suppose I should go shopping - there’s an errand I need to run for my sister - and then it’s back to the books: I’m brushing up on my Windows admin skills with a skim through the debugging book and a couple other security and programming tomes. The blog won’t write itself (lazy blog! the nerve…), and I’ve got several economics questions I’ve been meaning to explore lately, not to mention all those photographs to sift through and process.
Posted in ontology, bar-scene | 1 comment | no trackbacksPosted by Evan Bittner
Tue, 28 Oct 2008 17:09:00 GMT
I realize I recently said the same thing, but I’ll say it again: Being at home all day puts a lot of things in front of my face that I used to be able to ignore… I have better opportunities to be unsatisfied.
Today it was shoes. I could continue to wear the shoes I have, but they are gradually disintegrating, and I don’t want to put it off too long. In fact, when I went across the street to the shoe store, I was only intending to buy socks, which never seem to have the shelf life I would expect - perhaps I walk more than the manufacturer would recommend. But, if that’s true, the shoes have held up to the same punishment.
The need for shoes is merely symptomatic. Use it as a stand-in for any number of things I now realize I need to do or buy. Strange, when I was in a hurry to get places, I could casually note how badly the bathtub need a scrub, or the stacks of stuff I wish I could figure out how to organize, discard, or store.
Now I have the conceit that I should be working on something all day. And, this whole apartment is jam-packed with distractions - some of them beyond argument. Things that I was simply neglecting all that time. It reveals one of the reasons why I liked to haul my laptop in to the office and stay late after work to surf the web or write on the blog. I was both running away from my problems, and exercising control over my work environment. Hmmm… why should I have to do the former to achieve the latter?
Posted in ontology | no comments | no trackbacksPosted by Evan Bittner
Thu, 09 Oct 2008 21:57:00 GMT
If I had my way, I know what life would be like: Each day split roughly into two parts, one great inhale and one great exhale… I would wake up early to devour information until I had my fill for the day, and then I would spend a few hours creating something in response. It feels like an excellent pattern, and I wonder how long I can get away with doing it.
The thought of it provoked a few reactions in me: For one thing, the best television happens in the evening, when I would prefer to create rather than devour. As with many things, I am wont to ask “Why?”. Why is the world not supportive of my most supportive pattern? Bye-bye television. Sorry you couldn’t come along. But, you are one more cultural product with false urgency that forces a decision.
BAM!!! - $120 for a new AC adapter!
Three minutes of battery life distinguished my laptop from a fancy rock.
Luckily, there is a Radio Shack across the street to spend half an hour looking up which universal adapter went with my precise laptop model number… Because 19 volts and 90 watts is not enough information. There are apparently fifteen different sized plugs for the device end.
I hate interruptions. Where was I?
Oh, yeah - I was achieving inner peace with a zen-like daily regimen or something. !@#$%^&*
Posted in ontology | 1 comment | no trackbacksPosted by Evan Bittner
Tue, 07 Oct 2008 22:47:00 GMT
I had planned to go to the Takoma Park Street Festival yesterday. I knew about it at least a week in advance - which can be a long time for my planning apparatus. Too long, even. I was getting ready to go over there when I had a writing idea. “This should only take a minute.” Ha. It was 3:30 when I was satisfied with my rough drafts. Much of the work went into the extended rant on Wall Street. For some reason those ideas were in my head Saturday night during the movie, but I couldn’t express myself. Part of the problem is an issue I’ve talked about before: Commercials can be a boon. WETA has no commercial breaks at all during movies. And “Wall Street” was two hours long. So I can’t run to the kitchen for a snack without missing something, or reflect on what I’ve watched. After not producing anything the night of the movie, I was predictably unsatisfied - So, when the ideas did start to flow, I wasn’t going to stop for anything. And I was too late to catch much of the street festival.
But that’s all right… Because it was on to the next thing. Yet another get-together with the brokenhearted of Olsson’s. This time it was very Alexandria-centric - they held it at the Union Street Pub, across the street from the old “Book Annex”, or as I sometimes liked to call it: “Store 4” - Or - the one voted most likely to flood.
I took advantage of the new Yellow line Metro service. The trains that used to turn around at Mt. Vernon Square (don’t you just love telling tourists that the Mount Vernon they’re looking for is twenty miles due south of where they’re standing?) now turn around at Fort Totten. Although, I think that’s only true during non-rush hour. With that new service, I can ride non-stop from Columbia Heights to Alexandria - which helps me rest up for the long walk from the train station to the waterfront.
I was running a little early, so I stopped in at Hard Times Cafe for a bowl of chili. Dry Texas with chopped tomato and onion on top. The service was crappy and the food was excellent. Actually, the cornbread could have been fresher, but since it took so long to get it - deja-vu! - I included it in the service category. I’m easy to please, so screwing it up is an impressive feat.
King Street in Alexandria is a template of memory. I never hung out there much, but most of that was more than ten years ago. The place haunts me - just to walk down that street today is an exercise, physical and mental: Many businesses have been replaced over the years, but I never pinned down where everything was anyway. More than once, I thought something was gone when I got to the corner I remembered it on, only to discover it still there, further on. It is just not a route that I can play back in my imagination and get right. One segment near the courthouse is clogged with the chains - Starbucks and Gap and Austin Grill to name a few. Starbucks is starting to feel old to me, though. One year around ‘93 or ‘94 we had Liz Phair play at the store, and when they ran late arriving from Philadelphia, I remember going up to Starbucks for a cafe mocha with orange colored whipped cream on top. It must’ve been a Halloween theme. Since then, another outlet has opened at Union, so there would be no need to walk all that way.
I took a minute to look in the window of Olsson’s - a place I haven’t been since who knows when… Was it an overnight inventory four years ago? The PC screen-saver was still going on the ticket sales computer. It looked ready to open in the morning. Part of me was hoping to be seen by a stranger, looking forlornly into the closed store for unknown reasons. And if they were a thoughtful stranger, they might wonder at the nature of my relationship with that place - the worlds of unknowing in a chance encounter.
A big group had assembled by the time I got there, but I think I arrived at the half way point. (I suppose in any normal distribution or arrival times, most people would appear to have arrived “in the middle”, though). There were book sales reps, the long silent former employees, friends who hadn’t drifted too far away, the veterans and the recently hired. People who seem like surrogate parents to me, and people who were only names on my computer. The drinks were flowing, and I didn’t have to pay.
Posted in DC-roaming, ontology, olssons, writing-craft | no comments | no trackbacksPosted by Evan Bittner
Mon, 06 Oct 2008 20:46:00 GMT
There was a guy waiting for the bus last night, flouting the rules on audio devices. The mini-speakers attached to his bag were pumping out soul music, and it didn’t stop when we were on the bus. His taste in music was relatively inoffensive - not my choice for tunes, but it didn’t distract me from reading… What distracted me was the conversation he started having with another guy - who, coincidentally, was also trying to read. Soul Music looked over at the aging, light-skinned hipster and said “Now, I know you listened to the debate.” Hipster had a thousand times more class than the youngsters who normally interrupt my bus-time reading. He was reluctantly drawn into a conversation with Soul Music, just as I eventually was, one pithy reply at a time. Soul Music drove the conversation with his folksy indignation. This is Obama country around here, and these are Obama people - liberal to the core, no matter their skin color - people who grumble over the “stolen” elections of the past, and wonder at the sense of giving in to the needs of the merely greedy. At one point the African man sitting between the two was examining the contents of his worn Walgreens shopping bag, and I swear I saw him crying over receipts of some sort. No, he was definitely trying to hide his sorrow over something printed on those slips - grocery bills? lotto tickets? For a moment there, I thought it was our fault - I was worried that the conversation was too depressing for him.
I had my economic theories at the ready, and I tried to inject some balance. I said that everything both the politicians had said was meaningless, to some general agreement, and I said that they have no choice but to be meaningless if they want to win. But what I did not say was this, not sure if it would even help: “Hey, look, I program computers, and so when they say they’re going to decrease our dependence on foreign oil by investing in alternative energy, or that they are going to end wars and bring the troops home… I need to see the code for how they intend to accomplish that, otherwise it’s all just hot air”.
But, these are not the men who will know the details - it’s about teamwork and leadership, and so maybe it’s not such a bad thing that we elect them “Miss Congeniality” (which apparently Obama has lost repeatedly in the senate). They need to impress the other men in suits to do their bidding. I’ve been saying that the job of president has become progressively less important as time goes by. They must inspire the actions of others, and so it isn’t so weird to elect the cheerleader Bush over the technocrats Gore or Kerry. And that’s just charisma.
Posted in politics, DC-roaming, ontology | no comments | no trackbacksPosted by Evan Bittner
Tue, 30 Sep 2008 10:35:00 GMT
There is an undercurrent within all this reading about complexity, randomness, and system behavior: Predictability without comprehension. Perfectly good rules to apply to many situations that cannot be fully explained. Some systems boil down to a list of coefficients, and that’s it - no explanation.
It takes some faith to rely on the counterintuitive result. Or the unfathomable calculation. We live among machines that can tell us answers we could never discover on our own. How do we know for sure that the premise was correct? There are patterns we refuse to believe because they don’t match our experiences - even with mass media to help us gather more than ever before. But neither can we vouch for subtle mistakes in the algorithm. Over time we might learn to accept the counterintuitive result, in so far as it can be demonstrated - we plug the answer back in and verify - but in some cases, this may not be enough.
This idea has been percolating in my head for years, and reading “Simplexity”, among other books, helps refine it for me… But really, it shows up unquestioned in “The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy”: If you build the largest computer ever made to crank out some calculation you couldn’t dream of doing any other way… Well, how would you verify the result? And if your world is filled with lots of little computer-generated results, how do you know which ones can really be trusted? If it took so long to get the answer in the first place, who would have the patience to wait around for it to be verified? How can we be sure that the verification was correct? Would it even be possible to follow the argument?
Somewhere I read that the real power of science is not to find answers, but to find explanations. Right or wrong, it’s possible to be unhappy with the answer. If I handed you a slip of paper with “the answer” on it, and millions of years later when Deep Thought (or whatever the latest model is) finishes with the calculation… Chances are my quickly scribbled answer was not correct. But, even if it’s right, then it’s just a fluke. Nobody should trust that answer - there is no evidence that I put any effort into it.
Coming up next on my reading list is Leonard Mlodinow’s “The Drunkard’s Walk”. I skimmed a few pages the other night, and it reminded me of Gregory Chaitin’s “Meta Math”, mainly because of the discussion of our psychological problems with the truly random. For me, any actual list of random things has a tendency to seem special. We all want there to be a reason, or an explanation behind the actual. Deep down, we can’t believe in the totally random, so we act as if there must be an explanation that we just haven’t found yet.
Posted in books, ontology | no comments | no trackbacksPosted by Evan Bittner
Sun, 14 Sep 2008 19:01:00 GMT
I participated in a little thing called “democracy” today. Party Primaries - no presidential stuff. I looked at the booklet I received in the mail and I got depressed: It’s a few unopposed congressional candidates, and a bunch of “Pick no more than six (6)”. Committee members? I hadn’t heard of any of them. Maybe I should have paid more attention in civics class or something. But, that was Maryland, after all.
I got a coffee and a donut and reviewed the booklet in the cafe. I considered the list again… Why should I even bother? I recognize Eleanor Holmes Norton, and I saw a photograph of Paul Strauss standing next to Barack Obama, but beyond that every name is a complete cypher to me. Committee members from Ward 1? I don’t even know what this “Committee” even does.
Well, it’s the principle of the thing. If I didn’t go vote, what would I say later? It’s not my responsibility? Although, I have to wonder if my choices might inadvertently done some damage. I’ll never know for sure.
On the plus side, there was no line. Fifteen poll workers and three voters. I saw my sister’s name on the list - she keeps showing up, even though she spent ten years in Russia and now lives in New York state. There’s also a Jennifer Bittner who is always coming between Vanessa and I. She either votes later in the day, or she also moved to another country like my sister did. Or, maybe it’s not statistically significant for me to never see her sign off when I always vote before 7:15am.
I made sure to try the touch screen. If I make a mistake, no big deal - just chalk it up to user interface testing. I’m still a bit wary of using it on the BIG DAY, when it’s crowded enough that I can’t even stay to watch them register the card in the counting terminal. How can I claim any expertise in Human-Computer interaction if I won’t even vote on a computer?
As fast as it was to vote, I still missed the bus I wanted. According to my watch I still had a minute or two… But you can’t really predict buses - they tend to cluster, empty buses passing deserted stops catching up to full ones that took their time waiting for extra passengers to find standing room.
Posted in computer-interface, ontology | no comments | no trackbacksPosted by Evan Bittner
Tue, 09 Sep 2008 13:38:00 GMT
