Tuesday, October 30, 2007
Happy Halloween
Happy Halloween! It's an awesome holiday, even if I just explain it to kids here and don't really do much for it. I got some pie and cookies for it the other day, though, so that is cool. I don't currently have time for much of an update, so enjoy these pictures I found using Google Image Search of some of my favorite Halloween costumes.
Friday, October 26, 2007
Pictures
Sorry it took so long to put up these pictures, but I forgot to send them to myself.
This is a little monument that was in front of a shrine I walked into a little while ago. I think the name is onikami, which would be ogre-god, but readings in names are notoriously irregular.
Here's the torii, or gate, at the shrine.
Here's the actual shrine. Neat. There was nobody around.
It might be kind of hard to see, but this is a picture of a snake that was just chilling on a stump near the shrine. I wasn't going to try to get a better picture. The Japanese word for snake is hebi.
There's some kind of huge rock that was near the shrine. It had stuff engraved in it, but I have no idea what it said. It was really huge, though.
Here are some Buddha statues I walked by. There are all kinds of little statues and mini shrines all over Japan, which is really kind of neat that they just sit there unattended and have been around for probably centuries in some cases.
Sorry it is sideways. My mac won't let me do anything useful with pictures. It also likes to hid windows. I am starting to get annoyed at lots of little navigation things on the mac that windows does so much better. Also, seriously, Steve Jobs, add a right mouse button, you idiot.
When I got back to my apartment, I heard what sounded like festival music, so I went outside and found that there was a tiny matsuri just for kids which basically was just them walking about one block carrying a tiny portable shrine while a truck drove alongside playing music from a speaker. Hilarious.
An old lady talked to me, though, and some guy gave me some sake for no real reason. Also some of the kids were my students, so that was funny.
WASHOI!
Here's the actual portable shrine that just rode in the back of the truck while some guys walked along to make sure it didn't fall out. Awesome.
This is a little monument that was in front of a shrine I walked into a little while ago. I think the name is onikami, which would be ogre-god, but readings in names are notoriously irregular.
Here's the torii, or gate, at the shrine.
Here's the actual shrine. Neat. There was nobody around.
It might be kind of hard to see, but this is a picture of a snake that was just chilling on a stump near the shrine. I wasn't going to try to get a better picture. The Japanese word for snake is hebi.
There's some kind of huge rock that was near the shrine. It had stuff engraved in it, but I have no idea what it said. It was really huge, though.
Here are some Buddha statues I walked by. There are all kinds of little statues and mini shrines all over Japan, which is really kind of neat that they just sit there unattended and have been around for probably centuries in some cases.
Sorry it is sideways. My mac won't let me do anything useful with pictures. It also likes to hid windows. I am starting to get annoyed at lots of little navigation things on the mac that windows does so much better. Also, seriously, Steve Jobs, add a right mouse button, you idiot.
When I got back to my apartment, I heard what sounded like festival music, so I went outside and found that there was a tiny matsuri just for kids which basically was just them walking about one block carrying a tiny portable shrine while a truck drove alongside playing music from a speaker. Hilarious.
An old lady talked to me, though, and some guy gave me some sake for no real reason. Also some of the kids were my students, so that was funny.
WASHOI!
Here's the actual portable shrine that just rode in the back of the truck while some guys walked along to make sure it didn't fall out. Awesome.
Wednesday, October 24, 2007
Kanji and Linear Approximations
Firstly, I've noticed that nobody has submitted any ideas on that topology problem from the last post. I'll assume that you're all just stumped, as I am.
Anyway, I was making kanji cards today and I started thinking about some things (warning: math ahead). Let me just explain the process first. I have been making kanji cards from the paper in a sketch book left behind by my predecessor. If you are curious or would just like to hear me brag, I'd say I know around a thousand at this point. First, I draw a grid of 3 cm x 3 cm squares on the paper with the aid of a ruler, which works out to be 13 squares by 10 squares with some space left over, if I recall correctly. Then I write/draw a kanji in each square. Then I cut the squares out and write the readings and meaning on the back side.
So, I noticed while cutting squares out, which I imagine is obvious to anyone who has cut things out of a book before, that cutting along lines for a short distance is much easier than cutting along them for a long distance, especially when one is cutting parallel to the binding. It occurred to me that this is due to the fact that when we cut with scissors in this way, we have to lift the page, which actually means rotating it along the binding, so that the scissors can fit. When we do this, what we are actually doing is warping the plane (an approximation of a plane, if you want to be technical) of the paper. So, our straight line is no longer straight, but some weird curve, both because we try to hold the paper flat so as to cut, though it is angled up due to the binding, and because paper has nonzero mass, so the far end bends down due to gravity.
Scissors (鋏 [hasami] in Japanese, if you would like something more social-science based out of this post), however, are really only good at cutting in straight lines. So, what we are really doing here is linear approximation. If you don't get what I mean by that, you should brush up on your calculus. It makes sense, then, that our best bet in cutting is to make small cuts, which would approximate the curve more easily. Another little trick I noticed that is probably obvious to anyone else, though I had never thought of it, was to cut past the first line parallel to the binding when making the perpendicular-to-the-binding cuts. Then the curve is shorter and the stiffness of the paper allows for less bending, meaning our approximation is going to be better.
So, yeah.
Anyway, I was making kanji cards today and I started thinking about some things (warning: math ahead). Let me just explain the process first. I have been making kanji cards from the paper in a sketch book left behind by my predecessor. If you are curious or would just like to hear me brag, I'd say I know around a thousand at this point. First, I draw a grid of 3 cm x 3 cm squares on the paper with the aid of a ruler, which works out to be 13 squares by 10 squares with some space left over, if I recall correctly. Then I write/draw a kanji in each square. Then I cut the squares out and write the readings and meaning on the back side.
So, I noticed while cutting squares out, which I imagine is obvious to anyone who has cut things out of a book before, that cutting along lines for a short distance is much easier than cutting along them for a long distance, especially when one is cutting parallel to the binding. It occurred to me that this is due to the fact that when we cut with scissors in this way, we have to lift the page, which actually means rotating it along the binding, so that the scissors can fit. When we do this, what we are actually doing is warping the plane (an approximation of a plane, if you want to be technical) of the paper. So, our straight line is no longer straight, but some weird curve, both because we try to hold the paper flat so as to cut, though it is angled up due to the binding, and because paper has nonzero mass, so the far end bends down due to gravity.
Scissors (鋏 [hasami] in Japanese, if you would like something more social-science based out of this post), however, are really only good at cutting in straight lines. So, what we are really doing here is linear approximation. If you don't get what I mean by that, you should brush up on your calculus. It makes sense, then, that our best bet in cutting is to make small cuts, which would approximate the curve more easily. Another little trick I noticed that is probably obvious to anyone else, though I had never thought of it, was to cut past the first line parallel to the binding when making the perpendicular-to-the-binding cuts. Then the curve is shorter and the stiffness of the paper allows for less bending, meaning our approximation is going to be better.
So, yeah.
Monday, October 22, 2007
Open Problems
So, lately, I've been working on a problem, but, first some definitions to help you out, since I want to save you time looking for them, and you obviously want to see if you can come up with a proof (not find one on the internet or anywhere else, as that defeats the purpose) before me.
T1 - A topological space is said to be T1 if for any points x, y in the space, there exists an open set U such that x is contained in U but y is not contained in U.
Weakly Countably Compact - A topological space is said to be Weakly Countably Compact if every infinite subset of the space has a limit point. *note* These are not my definitions, but I am taking this to mean that the set merely HAS a limit point, not that it necessarily CONTAINS said limit point.
Countably Compact - A topological space is said to be Countably Compact if every countable open cover admits a finite subcover.
The problem I am trying to tackle here is that every T1, Weakly Countably Compact space is necessarily Countably Compact. The difficulty thus far has been that the T1 condition is an existence condition; that is, that such an open set must exist, not that it must be present in some given cover. I think I am very near a solution, though.
I suppose for those of you not versed in topology, a bit more might help. A topological space is merely a set, say, X, equipped with a topology. What is a topology? It is simply a subset, T, of the power set of X, P(X) such that these three conditions hold:
1) T contains both X and the empty set
2) T is closed under finite intersections
3) T is closed under arbitrary unions
If a set is an element of the topology, that set is said to be open. The complement of an open set is a closed set and vice versa. Theoretically, this should be enough for you to get me a proof, which I will expect soon.
But, for a familiar example, take the set of real numbers (which you can visualize as a line if you like) as X and let T={U|if x is an element of U, there exists an interval (a,b) such that x is an element of (a,b) and (a,b) is a subset of U}. This is actually called the standard topology on R, and is really the origin of all topology. You can confirm this is indeed a topology, which is a worthwhile exercise.
Anyway, the problem I've laid out here isn't going to be so easy to draw as the real line, as it turns out that the real line under the standard topology isn't weakly countably compact. You can confirm this, too, if you'd like. It is, however, T1, which would be good to think about, I suppose. Since I can't draw a nice picture of our situation, have instead a picture of curry udon that I made tonight:
Now, for a problem of a different sort, for those of you not inclined to mathematical brain teasers. Here's a bit of a song I've written, or at least written the words to, as I've forgotten the melody I originally had in mind:
The girl was a tall Australian one
Too tall for her frame, if you know what I mean
Spoke like a movie with incomprehensible accents
I couldn't follow the plot, except for her scene
She had crimson hair just like a convict
Her father was a resident of the penetentiary
She was driven to sadness, and from sadness to madness and drinking
And I was driven to her by a car when she drove into me
Well, the sun shone down on that Australian outback
The seasons there are all in reverse
I was thinking of her sitting at the hospital piano
She was thinking of me, but I was thinking of her first
The girl was a tall Australian one
With features too sharp to make her aboriginee
She was probably wearing her denim dress when we parted
She always did for some reason when meeting me
She freckles easily and so she wears a lot of sunscreen
And it matches with her crimson hair so hot
If she walked through the desert she'd look like she's on fire
With the air melting around her, even though it's not.
It's not a particularly good song, I'll admit, and the syllables may seem too plentiful, but keep in mind I write for how I sing and I sing like Dylan in a funny kind of way. The problem here is what should happen next. I'm not really sure. I'm not asking for you to finish the song for me, just for an idea. I can deal with the actual construction my self. I'm also not asking for critique, but feel free to leave that if you want. Here's an unrelated picture of some banana juice that I bought the other day:
T1 - A topological space is said to be T1 if for any points x, y in the space, there exists an open set U such that x is contained in U but y is not contained in U.
Weakly Countably Compact - A topological space is said to be Weakly Countably Compact if every infinite subset of the space has a limit point. *note* These are not my definitions, but I am taking this to mean that the set merely HAS a limit point, not that it necessarily CONTAINS said limit point.
Countably Compact - A topological space is said to be Countably Compact if every countable open cover admits a finite subcover.
The problem I am trying to tackle here is that every T1, Weakly Countably Compact space is necessarily Countably Compact. The difficulty thus far has been that the T1 condition is an existence condition; that is, that such an open set must exist, not that it must be present in some given cover. I think I am very near a solution, though.
I suppose for those of you not versed in topology, a bit more might help. A topological space is merely a set, say, X, equipped with a topology. What is a topology? It is simply a subset, T, of the power set of X, P(X) such that these three conditions hold:
1) T contains both X and the empty set
2) T is closed under finite intersections
3) T is closed under arbitrary unions
If a set is an element of the topology, that set is said to be open. The complement of an open set is a closed set and vice versa. Theoretically, this should be enough for you to get me a proof, which I will expect soon.
But, for a familiar example, take the set of real numbers (which you can visualize as a line if you like) as X and let T={U|if x is an element of U, there exists an interval (a,b) such that x is an element of (a,b) and (a,b) is a subset of U}. This is actually called the standard topology on R, and is really the origin of all topology. You can confirm this is indeed a topology, which is a worthwhile exercise.
Anyway, the problem I've laid out here isn't going to be so easy to draw as the real line, as it turns out that the real line under the standard topology isn't weakly countably compact. You can confirm this, too, if you'd like. It is, however, T1, which would be good to think about, I suppose. Since I can't draw a nice picture of our situation, have instead a picture of curry udon that I made tonight:
Now, for a problem of a different sort, for those of you not inclined to mathematical brain teasers. Here's a bit of a song I've written, or at least written the words to, as I've forgotten the melody I originally had in mind:
The girl was a tall Australian one
Too tall for her frame, if you know what I mean
Spoke like a movie with incomprehensible accents
I couldn't follow the plot, except for her scene
She had crimson hair just like a convict
Her father was a resident of the penetentiary
She was driven to sadness, and from sadness to madness and drinking
And I was driven to her by a car when she drove into me
Well, the sun shone down on that Australian outback
The seasons there are all in reverse
I was thinking of her sitting at the hospital piano
She was thinking of me, but I was thinking of her first
The girl was a tall Australian one
With features too sharp to make her aboriginee
She was probably wearing her denim dress when we parted
She always did for some reason when meeting me
She freckles easily and so she wears a lot of sunscreen
And it matches with her crimson hair so hot
If she walked through the desert she'd look like she's on fire
With the air melting around her, even though it's not.
It's not a particularly good song, I'll admit, and the syllables may seem too plentiful, but keep in mind I write for how I sing and I sing like Dylan in a funny kind of way. The problem here is what should happen next. I'm not really sure. I'm not asking for you to finish the song for me, just for an idea. I can deal with the actual construction my self. I'm also not asking for critique, but feel free to leave that if you want. Here's an unrelated picture of some banana juice that I bought the other day:
Saturday, October 20, 2007
Pictures and Such
Sorry I haven't updated in a bit. It's cold here sometimes and that makes it difficult to type, if that's an excuse. Anyway, yesterday, I was intending to go up to the famous Izumo Taisha shrine, but I ended up going to Hinomisaki, 日御崎, if I recall the kanji correctly. Anyway, it's an area basically between the western edge of Lake Shinji and the Sea of Japan. There's a lighthouse and another pretty huge shrine, both of which I have pictures of, but I haven't sent them to myself yet. So, instead, have some pictures of food that I have eaten lately, etc.
This is a can of the hilariously named Hi-Boy brand Chu-Hi. It was plum flavored, which was a mistake, I think.
Here's a packet of weird peanut things that came with a can of Suntory Kin-Mugi. They were alright.
Here's a can of Kirin Sparkling Hop, which is a new kind of beer. It has a wonderful aroma, but a so-so taste. Mad props on the can, though, because I like green.
Here are a couple books that my mom sent me, by the wonderful Neal Stephenson. I haven't started them yet because I've just started another of the books she sent me, Clans of the Alphane Moon by Philip K. Dick. Let me just say that Philip K. Dick is probably the awesomest science fiction writer there has ever been. Don't get me wrong, Asimov is hilarious brilliant and Clarke is just plain awesome if you like actual SCIENCE fiction (see some previous post), but Dick is just plain crazy and comes up with the most bizarre ideas for stories. This particular book focuses on a moon that used to be a mental hospital before it got cut off during a war, so now it is controlled by clans of people divided by their various mental defects.
If you aren't familiar with his work, you are wrong, you actually are. He's the guy who wrote the stories off which the awesome Total Recall and the good but highly overrated Blade Runner are based. He's also the guy who basically started the genre of alternate histories with the mind-blowingly cool The Man in the High Castle. If you like science fiction at all, read that one.
My wonderful ma also sent me some Halloween-themed Peeps, which are excellent. Ok, I've got stuff to do right now, so that is all. Feel the historicity, people.
This is a can of the hilariously named Hi-Boy brand Chu-Hi. It was plum flavored, which was a mistake, I think.
Here's a packet of weird peanut things that came with a can of Suntory Kin-Mugi. They were alright.
Here's a can of Kirin Sparkling Hop, which is a new kind of beer. It has a wonderful aroma, but a so-so taste. Mad props on the can, though, because I like green.
Here are a couple books that my mom sent me, by the wonderful Neal Stephenson. I haven't started them yet because I've just started another of the books she sent me, Clans of the Alphane Moon by Philip K. Dick. Let me just say that Philip K. Dick is probably the awesomest science fiction writer there has ever been. Don't get me wrong, Asimov is hilarious brilliant and Clarke is just plain awesome if you like actual SCIENCE fiction (see some previous post), but Dick is just plain crazy and comes up with the most bizarre ideas for stories. This particular book focuses on a moon that used to be a mental hospital before it got cut off during a war, so now it is controlled by clans of people divided by their various mental defects.
If you aren't familiar with his work, you are wrong, you actually are. He's the guy who wrote the stories off which the awesome Total Recall and the good but highly overrated Blade Runner are based. He's also the guy who basically started the genre of alternate histories with the mind-blowingly cool The Man in the High Castle. If you like science fiction at all, read that one.
My wonderful ma also sent me some Halloween-themed Peeps, which are excellent. Ok, I've got stuff to do right now, so that is all. Feel the historicity, people.
Monday, October 15, 2007
Reviews
Now, like a real blogger, I will give rambling, semi-coherent reviews of things despite the fact that nobody wants to hear them.
When I got to the convenience store tonight, I came to a realization that must be pretty common in literature or something. I have achieved my goal and now I am empty. I have tried every kind of beer I can possibly get in this town and now I have nothing left to look forward to. Fortunately, I saw that there were canned cocktails, and that one of those was called "Gold Moscow Mule," a drink which even Wikipedia didn't know anything about.
A little internetting told me that this drink is just a little vodka and a lot of ginger beer. Basically, it smells, looks, and tastes like ginger ale.
They also had gin and tonic, which they call "Clear Gin Tonic," and it basically tastes like a gin and tonic without the gin and tonic and with some vaguely pine flavored liquid. Boo, Kirin. You fail.
Also, both these drinks are pretty weak, so nobody worry that I am getting drunk on a school night.
I have watched a couple movies lately. I watched the sci-fi "classic," "Soylent Green," which I found out was loosely based on a story called "Make Room! Make Room!" Anyway, this movie is hilariously stupid at points and somewhat decent at other points. There is one scene that is sad if you know a little about the movie, which I would like to point out. One of the characters is played by Edward G. Robinson, who was dying of cancer at the time of the film. In the movie, he ends up going to a suicide parlor and dying. Also, Soylent Green is people. Now I've ruined the movie for you like pop culture ruined it for me.
I also watched a little movie called Battle Royale. It is a crazy Japanese movie about a crazy Japan in which a class of underachievers is chosen every year to fight to the death on a deserted island. It is hilariously violent at some points and more interesting if you realize that the villain now advertises some kind of energy drink here.
So, I had a discussion with Karen about the movie, and I mentioned that it was all pretty much what you would expect in that the characters are all basically archetypes and they all get what is coming to them (people who try to make peace are killed by those more ruthless; some people kill themselves to avoid fighting; there is a psycho dude as well as a manipulative girl; ultimately our pacifist heroes outsmart the system). It was odd to me that she hadn't thought of it like that. I guess that is because I read a lot of science fiction, in which characters are often secondary to overall theme like this.
I would argue that this only marginally qualifies as science fiction, though. There are people who would disagree (Alex), but they are wrong. FACT. There are those that would say I only classify the things I like as science fiction, what they might call hard science fiction. I disagree. I would point to Lester Del Rey's "Badge of Infamy," which is free on Project Gutenberg, if you'd like to check it out (don't). It is definitely science fiction. It is also definitely terrible. So there.
I'll tell you what movie I'd like to see. Pat Garrett and Billy the Kid. I'll admit I only want to see this because Bob Dylan is in it and did the soundtrack, which is actually a pretty decent album. The album is sweet if only for the reason that it works as a counterexample for people who argue that Dylan's only skill is his lyrical genius. He definitely is the greatest songwriter OF ALL TIME (NOT PAUL SIMON, TAKE THAT DAD), but it's not just because he's good with words. He's also got quite a knack for a simple but catchy melody and arrangement.
This album is also from the decade of Dylan which I sort of have a soft spot for. A friend recently mentioned how his album Desire often goes overlooked, and I'd like to mention that in a way, the 70's is Dylan at his best. It's also him at his worst if you have a listen to 1978's Street Legal. The Dylan of the 70's is Dylan after he has already given up on two musical movements and his wife had given up on him. He's still saying a lot, but he's not trying to stand alone on a stage with just a guitar and a harmonica, shouting at the world that "The Times, They Are A Changin'," but he's also not spitting out drug-addled descriptions of drunken clowns and the world's Mr. Joneses over a wailing organ. He's just got stories to tell now, and they're entertaining, whether or not he ever had a job in the great north woods or saw the bloody face of Ramon. Really, it is only a few albums, but they are all great. It really starts with John Wesley Harding, which is not technically from the 70's, but that is where his simplistic story-telling style begins. The point is, I'd like to see that movie because it looks like he is just playing himself.
When I got to the convenience store tonight, I came to a realization that must be pretty common in literature or something. I have achieved my goal and now I am empty. I have tried every kind of beer I can possibly get in this town and now I have nothing left to look forward to. Fortunately, I saw that there were canned cocktails, and that one of those was called "Gold Moscow Mule," a drink which even Wikipedia didn't know anything about.
A little internetting told me that this drink is just a little vodka and a lot of ginger beer. Basically, it smells, looks, and tastes like ginger ale.
They also had gin and tonic, which they call "Clear Gin Tonic," and it basically tastes like a gin and tonic without the gin and tonic and with some vaguely pine flavored liquid. Boo, Kirin. You fail.
Also, both these drinks are pretty weak, so nobody worry that I am getting drunk on a school night.
I have watched a couple movies lately. I watched the sci-fi "classic," "Soylent Green," which I found out was loosely based on a story called "Make Room! Make Room!" Anyway, this movie is hilariously stupid at points and somewhat decent at other points. There is one scene that is sad if you know a little about the movie, which I would like to point out. One of the characters is played by Edward G. Robinson, who was dying of cancer at the time of the film. In the movie, he ends up going to a suicide parlor and dying. Also, Soylent Green is people. Now I've ruined the movie for you like pop culture ruined it for me.
I also watched a little movie called Battle Royale. It is a crazy Japanese movie about a crazy Japan in which a class of underachievers is chosen every year to fight to the death on a deserted island. It is hilariously violent at some points and more interesting if you realize that the villain now advertises some kind of energy drink here.
So, I had a discussion with Karen about the movie, and I mentioned that it was all pretty much what you would expect in that the characters are all basically archetypes and they all get what is coming to them (people who try to make peace are killed by those more ruthless; some people kill themselves to avoid fighting; there is a psycho dude as well as a manipulative girl; ultimately our pacifist heroes outsmart the system). It was odd to me that she hadn't thought of it like that. I guess that is because I read a lot of science fiction, in which characters are often secondary to overall theme like this.
I would argue that this only marginally qualifies as science fiction, though. There are people who would disagree (Alex), but they are wrong. FACT. There are those that would say I only classify the things I like as science fiction, what they might call hard science fiction. I disagree. I would point to Lester Del Rey's "Badge of Infamy," which is free on Project Gutenberg, if you'd like to check it out (don't). It is definitely science fiction. It is also definitely terrible. So there.
I'll tell you what movie I'd like to see. Pat Garrett and Billy the Kid. I'll admit I only want to see this because Bob Dylan is in it and did the soundtrack, which is actually a pretty decent album. The album is sweet if only for the reason that it works as a counterexample for people who argue that Dylan's only skill is his lyrical genius. He definitely is the greatest songwriter OF ALL TIME (NOT PAUL SIMON, TAKE THAT DAD), but it's not just because he's good with words. He's also got quite a knack for a simple but catchy melody and arrangement.
This album is also from the decade of Dylan which I sort of have a soft spot for. A friend recently mentioned how his album Desire often goes overlooked, and I'd like to mention that in a way, the 70's is Dylan at his best. It's also him at his worst if you have a listen to 1978's Street Legal. The Dylan of the 70's is Dylan after he has already given up on two musical movements and his wife had given up on him. He's still saying a lot, but he's not trying to stand alone on a stage with just a guitar and a harmonica, shouting at the world that "The Times, They Are A Changin'," but he's also not spitting out drug-addled descriptions of drunken clowns and the world's Mr. Joneses over a wailing organ. He's just got stories to tell now, and they're entertaining, whether or not he ever had a job in the great north woods or saw the bloody face of Ramon. Really, it is only a few albums, but they are all great. It really starts with John Wesley Harding, which is not technically from the 70's, but that is where his simplistic story-telling style begins. The point is, I'd like to see that movie because it looks like he is just playing himself.
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