Apparently, it's the season for admitting ignorance here on the Quirky Muffin. I had no idea that Darwin's voyage the Beagle lasted five years! He went away from his home, and wrote that journal book, for years and was part of a circumnavigation of the whole world. For comparison, I get worried when I'm out for a whole day! What wonders he saw, and what ideas he conceived and then articulated in later texts...
When I finally finish reading it, I'll write a little about 'The Voyage Of The Beagle'. It's a fascinating snapshot into the geography and natural science of the Southern Hemisphere in the 1840s, and even relates a little of the local socio-political structures of the time. However, for now, I will just boggle at the idea of a five year trip around the world. Five years without British rain! Yikes!
Fascinatingly, the Beagle went on three separate surveying expeditions, and now they seem very much like the kind of 'five year missions' we saw on 'Star Trek'. Yes, those people, and their paying passengers like Darwin, committed for the long haul. Can you imagine that kind of trip, on a tiny sloop? It's true that Darwin spent long periods of time on land, rendezvousing with the vessel at fixed times and places, but it's a monumental achievement for the sailors and the ship as much as for him. A literal real world five year mission of surveying and charting. How wonderful.
If our progress has been marked on a timeline of exploration, then does that explain the weirdness of the last century, as infighting continues to erupt in the human species. Without a clear path of exploration, or at least one that anyone will pay for, is the sheer irrationality connected to spending far too much time under one global roof instead of being out on the great unexplored plains, breaking trails to new undiscovered countries? Do we need to make 'Wagon Train To The Stars' a reality out there before we can he happy back here?
Oh, to have been on that ship, or another like her. It would have been quite the experience, especially after dumping the phone in the trash at the first opportunity.
O.
Sunday, 13 March 2016
Friday, 11 March 2016
Freud, Jokes and Disorders
Sigmund Freud was a smart man. As I read through 'Jokes and the Unconscious', it becomes blindingly obvious that he was a pioneer beyond all measure, even when tackling seemingly superficial topics. To say that he was smart is such a non-contentious thing to write that it may as well be ignored completely! Of course Freud was a smart man, and some of his ideas linger on still, while others have been superceded entirely. Ultimately, should I ever read and understand enough, there will be talk of Freud and Jung, and perhaps some others too. Psychology can be very interesting... Even when it's not focussed on the ideas behind jokes!
Ah, jokes, those ephemeral and unclassifiable remarks and verbal constructions that can make our lives so much more enjoyable. If only I could remember a good one... No, I can't think of any! To be fair, jokes have always been less amusing to me than the humorous situations you find in dramatised entertainments, except for in the book form. Jokes work astonishingly well on the printed page. It may be that, having discovered the existence of a condition called hyperlexia, it now becomes natural to automatically try it on for size and see if it fits, even if it's just because jokes seem better written down. It's funnier to either read a joke in a Terry Pratchett novel or see a funny situation in a comedy. Of course, there are always 'Airplane' and 'Police Squad' to cite as counter-examples, both of which take the concept of a joke, and overload the shows so much that some of them have to work statistically, and the whole makes up a critical mass.
Hyperlexia is something I had never heard of before, but apparently it is the inverse of dyslexia, a clear challenge in interpreting verbal communication and ensuing preference for the written word. Logically, it had to exist, but I never considered that it might for an instant. Yes, hyperlexia could fit many people who have no idea that it exists. I'll add it to my own list of possible disorders, along with geranium fixations, mild Asperger-iness, office chair spinning, and an utter inability to look into clear blue skies without keeling over in horror. That last one is definitely real, but is it possible to have agoraphobia in only one respect? This too requires some research.
Returning to the beginning, Freud was a smart man. It's all in the unconscious, if we only know where.
O.
Ah, jokes, those ephemeral and unclassifiable remarks and verbal constructions that can make our lives so much more enjoyable. If only I could remember a good one... No, I can't think of any! To be fair, jokes have always been less amusing to me than the humorous situations you find in dramatised entertainments, except for in the book form. Jokes work astonishingly well on the printed page. It may be that, having discovered the existence of a condition called hyperlexia, it now becomes natural to automatically try it on for size and see if it fits, even if it's just because jokes seem better written down. It's funnier to either read a joke in a Terry Pratchett novel or see a funny situation in a comedy. Of course, there are always 'Airplane' and 'Police Squad' to cite as counter-examples, both of which take the concept of a joke, and overload the shows so much that some of them have to work statistically, and the whole makes up a critical mass.
Hyperlexia is something I had never heard of before, but apparently it is the inverse of dyslexia, a clear challenge in interpreting verbal communication and ensuing preference for the written word. Logically, it had to exist, but I never considered that it might for an instant. Yes, hyperlexia could fit many people who have no idea that it exists. I'll add it to my own list of possible disorders, along with geranium fixations, mild Asperger-iness, office chair spinning, and an utter inability to look into clear blue skies without keeling over in horror. That last one is definitely real, but is it possible to have agoraphobia in only one respect? This too requires some research.
Returning to the beginning, Freud was a smart man. It's all in the unconscious, if we only know where.
O.
Wednesday, 9 March 2016
Story: The Ninja of Health, VIII
( Part VII , IX )
The Ninjas of Health had originated in the late twentieth century, as a post-modern innovation in the realm of Eastern traditions. Before, ninjas would not have been concerned with holistic healthcare and altruistic social work, but rather mercenary endeavours and espionage. What happened to make this change? It was a little man called Ken, from a small town in the south of Sweden.
Ken, not having been well employed at the time, fell to studying in the local library and became besotted with ancient Japan, especially the various levels and castes of the society of the time. He concocted a plan, adapted philosophies, and then fell to practicing before preaching. Seven years later, he reached out to a select few people, and an order was born. It was an order with some unusual teachings, unusual practices, and a few members of quite extraordinary abilities...
These ninjas were always few in number, and went forth into the world to fix whatever ills they might encounter. They went where they felt they were needed. Their connections to the world around them, and their readings of the seemingly chaotic causal chains that it contained, combined so that they were rarely wrong.
Our two operatives had moved to Toddlingham several years earlier, and renovated the old chapel in which they lived. The wellbeing of the town slowly improved as they undertook their extracurricular activities and waited. There was always a purpose, a culmination to every assignment, and to everyone's time in the order. The two went about their day jobs, helped where they could, and worked on their arts as well as their mutually assured devotion.
Now, it seemed as if their waiting might be over.
To be continued...
The Ninjas of Health had originated in the late twentieth century, as a post-modern innovation in the realm of Eastern traditions. Before, ninjas would not have been concerned with holistic healthcare and altruistic social work, but rather mercenary endeavours and espionage. What happened to make this change? It was a little man called Ken, from a small town in the south of Sweden.
Ken, not having been well employed at the time, fell to studying in the local library and became besotted with ancient Japan, especially the various levels and castes of the society of the time. He concocted a plan, adapted philosophies, and then fell to practicing before preaching. Seven years later, he reached out to a select few people, and an order was born. It was an order with some unusual teachings, unusual practices, and a few members of quite extraordinary abilities...
These ninjas were always few in number, and went forth into the world to fix whatever ills they might encounter. They went where they felt they were needed. Their connections to the world around them, and their readings of the seemingly chaotic causal chains that it contained, combined so that they were rarely wrong.
Our two operatives had moved to Toddlingham several years earlier, and renovated the old chapel in which they lived. The wellbeing of the town slowly improved as they undertook their extracurricular activities and waited. There was always a purpose, a culmination to every assignment, and to everyone's time in the order. The two went about their day jobs, helped where they could, and worked on their arts as well as their mutually assured devotion.
Now, it seemed as if their waiting might be over.
To be continued...
Monday, 7 March 2016
Spin Those Wheels
There has been a distinct turn toward gibberish here in recent times, a pleasurable distinction which relieves the writer of any real need to make sense. Yes, the turtles understand, but very few others do. It's probably something to do with quantum potentialities actualising into assemblages of only tangentially related facts. Ah, the joys of being sleep deprived...
Tutoring continues, as does the recurrent glooms. Mothers Day has been and gone, and the requisite deeds done. Reading continues, as does a rejuvenated interest in Minecraft, thanks to a new release. There are some pretty nasty combat options in the game now, and some rebalancing has been incorporated into the works, but it's ultimately the same and I'll probably lose interest and return to reading in a few days. The book piles are waiting for fresh attention after all the rotation of recent times...
As the existential demons of fatigue continue to wander around the periphery of consciousness, and the weevils of doom gnaw at the biscuits of success, it's time to think about the rest of the week and how to stay awake! Perhaps giving up cocoa would help, or eradicating the baked potato habit. Muesli could be a good idea. It's impossible to fall asleep while thinking about muesli. Hmmm... muesli...
Actually, now would be a good time to get down to some reading, so it's time to close down this post and head for Darwin's 'Voyage of the Beagle' or Freud's 'Jokes and The Unconscious'. That's what we call happy bedtime reading.
O.
Tutoring continues, as does the recurrent glooms. Mothers Day has been and gone, and the requisite deeds done. Reading continues, as does a rejuvenated interest in Minecraft, thanks to a new release. There are some pretty nasty combat options in the game now, and some rebalancing has been incorporated into the works, but it's ultimately the same and I'll probably lose interest and return to reading in a few days. The book piles are waiting for fresh attention after all the rotation of recent times...
As the existential demons of fatigue continue to wander around the periphery of consciousness, and the weevils of doom gnaw at the biscuits of success, it's time to think about the rest of the week and how to stay awake! Perhaps giving up cocoa would help, or eradicating the baked potato habit. Muesli could be a good idea. It's impossible to fall asleep while thinking about muesli. Hmmm... muesli...
Actually, now would be a good time to get down to some reading, so it's time to close down this post and head for Darwin's 'Voyage of the Beagle' or Freud's 'Jokes and The Unconscious'. That's what we call happy bedtime reading.
O.
Saturday, 5 March 2016
The Literary Reflection, II
It is time to once again reflect on recent readings, and stop for a moment the random consideration of rice pudding, puzzle cubes, and 'The Six Million Dollar Man'. The literary reflection must strike once again, with great vigour, lack of concision, and a tendency to list slightly to larboard. This time, it's even more of a mixed bag than usual.
'The A-Team' by Charles Heath (1984)
Yes, a novelisation of an adventure series pilot from the 1980s. 'The A-Team' actually spawned ten novelisation from it's first two (and best) seasons, and they are in many ways better than the show itself. By all accounts, Charles Heath was a fictitious umbrella nom-de-plume for a bunch of jobbing authors, who took the show and made it a bit more consistent, refined some of the humour, and added a bare minimum of extra framing material. This one has the advantage of being based on the double-length pilot episode. Is it good? Yes, in a bare manner. Actually, I really loved these ten novelisations when growing up, and this one is still pretty solid, even if it adds very little to the screened version in terms of solid narrative. The world can only be enhanced by the addition of more Howling Mad Murdock, however. This was a plan that definitely did come together.
'The Master And Margarita' by Mikhail Bulgakov (1967)
I already wrote about this briefly in its own post. It's a classic Russian novel, a great work, and one that did leave a definite effect. The novel is split into two very distinct parts, and the casual reader might be confused at the abrupt change of pace and lack of a definite climax, but it is definitely a worthy read. No, the diabolical entity isn't defeated, but it's a different kind of story than that, and one to not be missed. Also, in a definite advantage, a great genre novel which doesn't leave you miserably affected and broken from an overload of dystopia and or tragedy is something to be treasured. There's a reason why I've heard that enigmatic title being bandied about for so long.
'Kai Lung Unrolls His Mat' by Ernest Brahma (1928)
The works of Ernest Bramah are little known today, as are most works of entertainment more than a couple of decades old. 'Kai Lung Unrolls His Mat' is the third in the 'Kai Lung' series, and is a sequence of shorter stories set into by a substantial framing story. The narrative is based around the storyteller Kai Lung and his quest to rescue his spouse from her imprisonment by a robber baron. As it is a short story collection, and my talents lend themselves more to novel length narratives, it took a long long time to read, but was definitely worth it. I'm not sure that I'll dig up any more of the entries in the Brahma bibliography, although I really don't know why. The writing was exquisite and witty, and the immersion into the Oriental world of language and etiquette was profound. Perhaps it's because I was looking for something to follow the superlative 'Bridge Of Birds' by Barry Hughart, or am in deep short story fatigue. What? Written myself into a corner? Okay, I'll read another. Mwahahahhahah. 'The Moon Of Much Gladness' will follow in due course.
'Going Postal' by Terry Pratchett (2004)
It may be the last definably classic Discworld novel, and it's certainly one of my favourites. As with most of the Discworld novels, it's ultimately slight but a brisk and enjoyable romp. The story is that of Moist von Lipwig (yes, it is an unfortunate name), an inveterate conman who is given a second chance by the tolerant tyrant of Ankh-Morpock and asked to reopen and popularise the city's post office. Much symbolism and hijinks ensues, as does thinly (if it's covered at all) veiled criticism of corporate business behaviour. I love it, and it has one of the best love interests in Adora Belle Dearhart (he did indeed go the whole hog on names this time around). Oh, for an Adora Belle Dearhart!
Yes, it was a mix of books both old and old. The book piles have rotated substantially, and now it's time to dig into some Greek and the great Freud himself...
O.
'The A-Team' by Charles Heath (1984)
Yes, a novelisation of an adventure series pilot from the 1980s. 'The A-Team' actually spawned ten novelisation from it's first two (and best) seasons, and they are in many ways better than the show itself. By all accounts, Charles Heath was a fictitious umbrella nom-de-plume for a bunch of jobbing authors, who took the show and made it a bit more consistent, refined some of the humour, and added a bare minimum of extra framing material. This one has the advantage of being based on the double-length pilot episode. Is it good? Yes, in a bare manner. Actually, I really loved these ten novelisations when growing up, and this one is still pretty solid, even if it adds very little to the screened version in terms of solid narrative. The world can only be enhanced by the addition of more Howling Mad Murdock, however. This was a plan that definitely did come together.
'The Master And Margarita' by Mikhail Bulgakov (1967)
I already wrote about this briefly in its own post. It's a classic Russian novel, a great work, and one that did leave a definite effect. The novel is split into two very distinct parts, and the casual reader might be confused at the abrupt change of pace and lack of a definite climax, but it is definitely a worthy read. No, the diabolical entity isn't defeated, but it's a different kind of story than that, and one to not be missed. Also, in a definite advantage, a great genre novel which doesn't leave you miserably affected and broken from an overload of dystopia and or tragedy is something to be treasured. There's a reason why I've heard that enigmatic title being bandied about for so long.
'Kai Lung Unrolls His Mat' by Ernest Brahma (1928)
The works of Ernest Bramah are little known today, as are most works of entertainment more than a couple of decades old. 'Kai Lung Unrolls His Mat' is the third in the 'Kai Lung' series, and is a sequence of shorter stories set into by a substantial framing story. The narrative is based around the storyteller Kai Lung and his quest to rescue his spouse from her imprisonment by a robber baron. As it is a short story collection, and my talents lend themselves more to novel length narratives, it took a long long time to read, but was definitely worth it. I'm not sure that I'll dig up any more of the entries in the Brahma bibliography, although I really don't know why. The writing was exquisite and witty, and the immersion into the Oriental world of language and etiquette was profound. Perhaps it's because I was looking for something to follow the superlative 'Bridge Of Birds' by Barry Hughart, or am in deep short story fatigue. What? Written myself into a corner? Okay, I'll read another. Mwahahahhahah. 'The Moon Of Much Gladness' will follow in due course.
'Going Postal' by Terry Pratchett (2004)
It may be the last definably classic Discworld novel, and it's certainly one of my favourites. As with most of the Discworld novels, it's ultimately slight but a brisk and enjoyable romp. The story is that of Moist von Lipwig (yes, it is an unfortunate name), an inveterate conman who is given a second chance by the tolerant tyrant of Ankh-Morpock and asked to reopen and popularise the city's post office. Much symbolism and hijinks ensues, as does thinly (if it's covered at all) veiled criticism of corporate business behaviour. I love it, and it has one of the best love interests in Adora Belle Dearhart (he did indeed go the whole hog on names this time around). Oh, for an Adora Belle Dearhart!
Yes, it was a mix of books both old and old. The book piles have rotated substantially, and now it's time to dig into some Greek and the great Freud himself...
O.
Friday, 4 March 2016
A Leak
This was supposed to be about the books I've read since the last 'Literary Reflection', but the predominant aspect of my life today is far, far different. The integrity of my Wellingtons has been compromised. My right wellie is leaky. The world has come to an end. What is life when your Wellington fails? What is a Wellington if it fails in its one crucial task? What is a Wellington if it leaks water?
Is wellie-ness (the quality of being an effective wellie, impermeability) conserved? Did a duck in China suddenly become a shade more waterproof even as my boot began to take on water? If wellie-ness is conserved, then that has great implications for the navies of the world! Could it be that freighter suddenly popping a seam means that overall wellie effectiveness improves on a global scale! Good grief!
Oh, of course none of this is true. Global conservation of wellieness? Are you mad? Conservation laws operate on a universal scale, not a global one! My wellie springing a leak presumably means that something impermeable improved slightly somewhere in the universe. Yes, perhaps an Arcturan Otter's waterproof hat repaired slightly, or a gigantic hole in the water galaxy of Zoot33's core shield reduced in size slightly. There's probably a story in there somewhere, if I can just get my mind into gear! Please, let not entropy enter this conservation. Wellieness is surely conserved ideally. Surely.
Yes, it was a good week for tutoring, and reading, and even not going completely insane, but the wellie incident rankles. They were good wellies, nicely coloured and patterned, but Wellington boots are apparently pretty much unrepairable! It's a travesty to crown a day that had its problems... Wellies wellies wellies wellies.
Why not talk about wellies for the remaining lifetime of the Quirky Muffin? Why not rename it to the Quirky Wellie? It's an idea? Oh, never mind. Next time there will be a book report.
O.
Is wellie-ness (the quality of being an effective wellie, impermeability) conserved? Did a duck in China suddenly become a shade more waterproof even as my boot began to take on water? If wellie-ness is conserved, then that has great implications for the navies of the world! Could it be that freighter suddenly popping a seam means that overall wellie effectiveness improves on a global scale! Good grief!
Oh, of course none of this is true. Global conservation of wellieness? Are you mad? Conservation laws operate on a universal scale, not a global one! My wellie springing a leak presumably means that something impermeable improved slightly somewhere in the universe. Yes, perhaps an Arcturan Otter's waterproof hat repaired slightly, or a gigantic hole in the water galaxy of Zoot33's core shield reduced in size slightly. There's probably a story in there somewhere, if I can just get my mind into gear! Please, let not entropy enter this conservation. Wellieness is surely conserved ideally. Surely.
Yes, it was a good week for tutoring, and reading, and even not going completely insane, but the wellie incident rankles. They were good wellies, nicely coloured and patterned, but Wellington boots are apparently pretty much unrepairable! It's a travesty to crown a day that had its problems... Wellies wellies wellies wellies.
Why not talk about wellies for the remaining lifetime of the Quirky Muffin? Why not rename it to the Quirky Wellie? It's an idea? Oh, never mind. Next time there will be a book report.
O.
Wednesday, 2 March 2016
Dum Dum De Dum
'Mission: Impossible' is kicking off a three-part story to the right of the screen, and 'The A-Team' just helped keep my mother happy. A life lived by television doesn't leave much time for reading! The new 'combat' version of Minecraft has also been released and is unfortunately much, much nastier than it used to be. Beware those skeletons, people of the world. In book world, 'Kai Lung Unrolls His Mat' is finally in its closing pages, while the wait continues on various job opportunities. Waiting is the hardest part of anything.
Tutoring mathematics is a fascinating activity, as lots of the progress is made when you're not there. It seems that the main part of the job is to explain things in such a way that their schoolwork suddenly becomes intelligible and the homework becomes easy. It's not as easy as it sounds, but instilling confidence isn't too bad at GCSE or below as you just have to show them the exams! It is very dispiriting to get to a year three or year four primary student and find out that their school hasn't even done fractions yet, though. That's the rough end of the tutoring stick. There's no way that that can be good!
Oh, if only we could teach numeracy and mathematics well across the board. It, along with literacy, would fix so many problems. Those two things really do form a 'silver bullet' set to eliminate the werewolf of ignorance. If I could just flood all the schools with buckets of great, and probably unapproved books and have them stay, it would make an amazing difference.
Oh, but this is not a time to be serious. The sun is long gone, and the Earth continues to spin, even as it rotates about the Sun, which in turns circles the centre of the galaxy, which is itself moving away from the notional centre of the universe. Think for a moment about just how absurd this all is, as we zoom through space at cosmic speed! That absurdity is the key to going to sleep with with a smile on your face. It's all utterly daft!
O.
Tutoring mathematics is a fascinating activity, as lots of the progress is made when you're not there. It seems that the main part of the job is to explain things in such a way that their schoolwork suddenly becomes intelligible and the homework becomes easy. It's not as easy as it sounds, but instilling confidence isn't too bad at GCSE or below as you just have to show them the exams! It is very dispiriting to get to a year three or year four primary student and find out that their school hasn't even done fractions yet, though. That's the rough end of the tutoring stick. There's no way that that can be good!
Oh, if only we could teach numeracy and mathematics well across the board. It, along with literacy, would fix so many problems. Those two things really do form a 'silver bullet' set to eliminate the werewolf of ignorance. If I could just flood all the schools with buckets of great, and probably unapproved books and have them stay, it would make an amazing difference.
Oh, but this is not a time to be serious. The sun is long gone, and the Earth continues to spin, even as it rotates about the Sun, which in turns circles the centre of the galaxy, which is itself moving away from the notional centre of the universe. Think for a moment about just how absurd this all is, as we zoom through space at cosmic speed! That absurdity is the key to going to sleep with with a smile on your face. It's all utterly daft!
O.
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