home
on exploration, introspection and creation

Archive for the ‘whatilike’ Category

Maps

Monday, May 9th, 2011

Perhaps I inherited the love of them from my seafaring father. Perhaps my precise, visual, mathematical mind picked up on their usefulness. Perhaps I am OCD. No matter what the reason, I’ve been fascinated with maps every since I was little. I just finished preparing for my trip to Spain and–in what has become an obligatory part of any preparation–I saved the maps for each of the places I’ll be visiting.

I love the fact that reality can be represented in such an intuitive, instantly valuable way. I can look at the map and quickly orient myself, figure out the direction in which I should go. A good map doesn’t need a lot of detail to be informative — all it takes to understand a map is some simple pattern matching, at least one (well, arguably, two) piece of information to match the real life. Maps are, in my view, the original virtual reality.

I have some strong opinions about maps. First, a map should always point in some invariant direction, ideally north. Our minds can pattern match much more easily if they are presented with the same image each time. Maps must not be too cluttered — one of the most painful features in the iPhone 3G version of Google Maps is the Traffic overlay which completely covers all information about the road underneath the overlay. Good maps should be visually pleasing, which is one reason I feel in love with the beautiful Google maps in contrast with the ugly alternative. A good map also uses a number of tricks to present the many dimensions that a map usually has to reflect — colors, labels, symbols and overlays are just some of them.

There is probably also something about how maps easily provide comfort. When I have a map on me, I never feel lost. I feel in control, and in command — after all, I have the territory charted so it cannot surprise me. This is also why having maps on my mobile phone is one of the most valuable aspects of it.

Did you notice how everyone has their favorite map? Either of a real place, or some treasure map they drew when they were little. In fact, having thought about it, it’s not just me: a little bit of map-worship is probably in all of us.

Sailing

Sunday, March 20th, 2011

Sailing is one of my favorite activities. There is something about being on water, and (while I don’t own a boat) having your own portable real estate. Part of it is the serenity of the water, another part the flexibility this gives you, the ability to get to any port in the world, even if it’s only theoretical.

It’s also a great way of spending time outdoors. Sailing is more active than walking in the park or having a picnic, and it’s much more satisfying, either as a solo activity or as something for a small group to do.

If you haven’t done it, you certainly should.

Great Ideas

Friday, December 3rd, 2010

Every so often I come across what I think is a brilliant idea. Here are several.

  • Light dimmer. Why settle on a binary mode of illumination? In the world where everything around us can be gradually adjusted, so should the light. A revolutionary extension of this idea is one of a light the changes its illumination automatically depending on ambient lighting to ensure a stable illumination (likewise, the monitor can change the color temperature to adjust for a changing ambient color temperature)
  • Gas tank indicator (a sign next to the fuel gauge that tells you if the tank is on the left or on the right of the car)
  • A bidet. Seriously. Why do you wash your hands and not settle instead on just brushing your hands against a dry sheet of paper towel?

Falling Asleep

Wednesday, December 1st, 2010

I love the feeling of falling asleep. As I fall asleep, I experience time dilation. As I go in and out of sleep, reality is turned into sleep-reality (a kind of symbolicized reality that merges concretes and concepts, drops the cause-effect links and many laws of physics).

Thus I can see what our brain does as we sleep. It seems to clean up information it has stored and half-processed by linking the specifics to the concepts, and coming up with a new, more efficient cache. This re-caching helps our mind minimize the effort it needs to expend while processing new information (however, if it’s solely for optimization, it doesn’t quite explain why we need to sleep).

The Theories of Time Travel

Friday, October 22nd, 2010

Let’s assume that what we all secretly hope for is true: that backwards time travel is possible (with a fast enough rocket you can travel forward in time already, thanks to Mr. Einstein). It’s unclear what such time travel would look like — there are many different theories and, consequently, interesting implications on the Universe, the existence of paradoxes, and the existence and the nature of time loops. Note that to help myself think through this, I have a human being travel in time; this may lead to inaccuracies and further questions — in most of the cases below, we can probably replace me with a photon, or even a quark, and get more precise results (“memory” becomes “momentum” or “spin”, etc.). But it’s more fun to think about people traveling in time.

  • Let’s first assume that there is only one version of the Universe.
    • If the links between causes and effects are not maintained, we have a consistent (paradox-free) time travel: moving backwards in time rewrites history and the previous version is lost. The I that travels back in time (call it I1) is not the same as the I that I1 meets in the past (I2). Whether I2 enters the time machine or not is irrelevant to I1. If I1 kills I2′s grandfather, I2 will not be born but I1 will not be affected in any way. It’s a very safe theory of time travel.
    • If the links between cause and effect are maintained (but their temporal relationship isn’t, necessarily), the Universe has to decide how to handle duplicates of matter/energy: it may choose to allow them, or not, or have an opinion somewhere in between.
      • If duplicates are allowed, I1 is identical to I2 but they are allowed to co-exist. If I1 prevents I2 from entering the time machine, I1 will cease to exist. What if I1 kill’s I2′s grandfather (who is also I1′s grandfather)?
        • It’s possible that I1 will simply not be able to do this — this is the theory where the Universe maintains its consistency (by making it prohibitively expensive — either by requiring you to put a lot of energy into your action or outright generating laws that locally forbid you to perform it), somewhat akin to what the writers of Lost did in the show. This energy-effect constrained time travel — the Universe not letting me kill my grandfather — is interesting. In order to maintain its consistency, the Universe would need to propagate all actions forward (“play them out”). If there is a sequence of actions that cause an inconsistency, the energy required to continue along this sequence would increase, proportionally to the probability of an inconsistency. It would be like an invisible magnetic field that steers actions in a particular direction. This could be implemented by a biased averaging out of quantum effects: let’s take light for example. We know that according to quantum theory, the movement of photons from A to B is realized through an infinite number of different paths which average out to a straight line. However, if the probabilities of the paths are different (due to the fact that some paths may cause an inconsistency in the future), the paths could actually average to something that’s not a straight line. To us it would seem that light travels in curved paths (without the presence of any “real” field, such a gravitational one)!

          Of course, these probabilities change gradually so no obviously apparent deviations from the norm would occur at first. For example, if I’m intending to kill my grandfather, the Universe will start steering me away from my intention through a small sequence of very likely events. If I persist in my intentions, the events increase in magnitude, but it’s possible (because there are just so many possible events that can influence me) that I will never realize my intention without even seeing anything strange with the Universe.

        • Otherwise, we have a phenomenon known as the Grandfather Paradox. I1 may create an unstable point in the spacetime: I1 (and thus I2, and the grandfather) will both exist and not exist at the same time, in a kind of macro-Shrödinger effect. What’s worse, anything that either was caused by I2 or the grandfather or would have been caused by I1 will also both exist and not exist. It’s unclear what effect this will have on the rest of the Universe — as these effects ripple through time, they expand their scope (the events that the grandfather caused themselves caused other events) but decrease their magnitude (think of it as a sound wave propagating through space, maybe bouncing off objects).
          • It’s possible that over time, as soon as they become small enough to be captured by quantum uncertainty, they stabilize so the ripple has a finite size (I can’t visualize what the ripple would actually look like, maybe a really fast-flashing grandfather).
          • Or the Universe could cease to exist.
      • If duplicates of matter/energy are not allowed, I1 would need to replace I2 (for this to work, the Universe would somehow need to have a unique identifier for everything in it). It’s difficult to think about replacing something complex like a human being because he or she is made of many building blocks, each having a different identifier, so let’s simplify and think of something that consists of a single block (say, a photon). The photon would replace its version from the past. Does this photon have “memory”, that is, its future state?
        • If so, the photon will likely change its course (behave differently than I1 did). This may mean that I2 may never end up traveling in time, but that’s fine because there is only version of it. This is equivalent to the theory of rewritten history.
        • If not, I1 simply merges into I2 — I2 enters a time loop which it will never be able to leave. It’s not aware of that, however, so to I1, the time travel ends its consciousness.

        If somehow we can maintain this option at a macro scale, it’s possible that an individual may travel back in time and maintain his or her memory, provided that the interval of time travel is small (for example, if I1 travels back to before I2 was born, I1–an individual–would have to replace a bunch of particles which aren’t even part of a human being. That will very likely result either in the destruction of I2–I2 will not be possible given the new state that all of its particles will have assumed before they created it–or in the destruction of I1–the “memory” that each particle has will be insignificant and so I1′s consciousness will end as soon as he travels in time)

      • Another way not to allow duplicates would be for I1 and I2 to “swap” places: as soon as I1 travels backwards in time, it takes I2′s place and I2 takes I1′s place in the future. When I1 gets to the time when it first traveled in time, he ceases to exist. There is no paradox because time travel transfers both I1 and I2. It doesn’t matter whether I1 actually enters the time machine the second time around or not, because his existence ceases past that point anyway.
      • Finally, the Universe may choose some option in between, for example, I1 and I2 will be entangled in a way that doesn’t increase entropy. This may look like a kind of constrained time travel, where paradoxes are not possible because they are prevented by the entanglement of I1 and I2 (in other words, I1′s and I2′s actions will either make both of them survive the interval of their co-existence, or make them both self-destruct. At the event of time travel, I2 goes back and I1 is the only entity remaining.

        This brings me to an interesting idea: what if time travel and quantum theory are actually one and the same? What if the time interval where I1 exists in the past (and influences outcomes) is equivalent to the cat being both alive and dead: it cannot be inspected, and nothing can be said about what happened or what any of the outcome that I1 could have influenced was. The instant at which I1 entered the time machine would then correspond to the box being open — we find out what all those outcomes were.

  • Now let’s suppose there are many versions of the Universe. This is similar to the first case (rewriting history) but if the Universe bifurcates with every time travel, an awful lot of energy is needed to do time travel. Alternatively, the Universe may already exist in its virtually infinite forms, each form corresponding to a different possible unfolding of an event. We know from Newton that at a high level the world seems deterministic, but at a quantum level it’s not — this randomness I see as a basis for the different unfolding of the events (hence, once and for all answering the problem of free will: there is no free will, but there is also no determinism — what we perceive as “choosing” is just a particular folding up of all the quantum uncertainties). So every time we put a cat in a box, there are Universes in which the cat is dead and Universes in which it’s alive. We know which path we’re on as soon as we open the box. Time travel would then simply be an opportunity to follow a different path.

There is one problem with many of the sub-theories above, and that is a problem of the sudden injection of matter/energy. It couldn’t have been created from nothing. It’s possible that as this new matter/energy is injected, some other matter/energy is transferred into the future (where the travel originated). Possibly an arrangement such as one in Primer is needed where travel is only possible to a limited point in time, where all the prep work has been done, for example enough energy has been set aside to be “displaced” by the newly arriving energy. It may also be that the time travel portal has a standby energy consumption — it consumes energy at some rate, like a leaking pipe, all the time — this would allow energy of at most that rate to be transferred from the future.

Another way to solve the sudden injection problem is to borrow me for the duration of the time travel episode from the time chronologically after the event of time travel. That is, if in the year 2010 I go back to the year 2005, my extra existence for five years between 2005 and 2010 will be borrowed from what would have been my existence between 2010 and 2015. In other words, as soon as I reach the year 2010 the second time around, I jump to the year 2015. This is a kind of quantum entanglement, but not of I1 and I2, but rather of I1 and the future version of I1.

Lifehack #32: Two todo queues

Thursday, October 14th, 2010

I have tried many different todo systems in the past, and slowly I am coming to a realization that no single or static todo system works — the todo lists must evolve, even in a cyclical way, to be useful. I think this is because any static framework (that is supposed to be used by human beings) loses its ability to be engaging, and thus representative of the task at hand (in this case, the things that need doing).

My current iteration at work uses email as a queue of tasks — so I keep my inbox small and move the email (and rarely look at it again) once I’ve finished the task. The most recent improvement is to add a “Waiting” category and tag emails I send out and await other people’s responses so that I can periodically ping people (the sad fact of life is that while I never drop anything on the floor; other people do). In addition to this I keep a simple text document that describes all other tasks that don’t come from email, arranged in three buckets: things I want to do today, things I want to do this week, and things I will probably never get to. Finally, other things (usually those requiring me to collaborate with others) I just make into calendar meetings.

I don’t keep things on more than one list at a time, but I do move them frequently — this keeps the tasks fresh in my mind (and isn’t really that much of a waste of time, anyway). For example, if a meeting doesn’t happen, I move the thing back to the todo list. Or if an email comes and it’s related to something on my todo list, I remove the entry from the todo list.

Humanities, the enemy of Science

Monday, October 11th, 2010

When I was younger, I strongly favored sciences and mathematics over humanities. I didn’t enjoy the seeming arbitrariness in what I was learning about humanities, and the fact that what was rewarded didn’t seem conceptual but factual (in sciences and mathematics, I felt I was taught the concepts and the way to derive facts from them; in humanities, I was supposed to regurgitate the facts I was taught — it seemed like memorization). Moreover, I cringed at a thought of the imprecision of humanities (what do you mean there is no exact answer?); if there was no verifiable, universal answer, how can we agree on anything, let alone be assessed on our knowledge of it? Finally, I could not for the life of it understand why everyone around me seemed to prefer humanities. Did people really prefer memorizing dates and causes of wars to deriving results from relatively few theorems?

As I grew older (and as I learned to take deep looks at my observations), I discovered a certain complexity to the above picture which made it not so obvious anymore. First, I realized that mathematics, sciences and humanities (in that order) are disciplines on a continuum and that continuum has several important characteristics. I already knew that as you move from the former to the latter,

The disciplines become less precise and exact, that is, it becomes harder to make statements which can be validated, verified, and agreed upon

I had also observed long time ago that

They seem to require more information for the same amount of conclusions drawn (memorizing many causes of wars vs knowing only a few mathematical formulae)

However, what was a relatively new realization (and what gave me a rather powerful aha moment) was that

They are increasing in complexity because of the systems they are trying to describe and whose behavior they are trying to predict

In retrospect, this last characteristic is pretty obvious, but it has powerful implications: humanities tackle much more interesting (and important) problems. They deal a lot with the human nature, with what makes us us, with inter-personal relationships, with our feelings and intangible abilities (such as the appreciation of the art). In a way, humanities take the world for what it is even if they can’t fully grasp it, as opposed to creating a simplifying model of the world and making exact predictions about it.

Let’s take mathematics, for example. What got me very excited about it was how richly it could talk about the world constructed just from a few assumptions, for example, discuss all numbers existing in nature (and even those that don’t!) by starting with five simple axioms. It could describe an incredibly complex world of geometry by postulating five things (and eight even more complex worlds by tweaking the fifth one). Yes, mathematics is exact — once proven, statements remain proven — but the domain that mathematics deals with is so narrow that it doesn’t really correspond in any meaningful way to the real world; it can’t even get to a kind of complexity we’re dealing with every day.

Similarly, the ethos of all sciences is that they propose and test models based on consistent observations. A model is a gross oversimplification of some real-world phenomenon; again, sciences (in the strict definition of the term) are unable to talk richly about any sufficiently complex phenomenon — in fact, physics (probably the purest of all sciences) chokes on even the simplest (in terms of the amount of complexity) systems — one of the interaction of inanimate matter in the universe.

So instead of thinking of humanities as “weaker” forms of the sciences or mathematics, I started thinking of humanities are their “more ambitious” forms. True, because the complexity mounts so quickly, the specific disciplines we know of as “history” or “economics” are more vague and less precise than the sciences, but fundamentally, the problem is simply much more difficult. Unsurprisingly, more information is required to make the same level of predictions.

Once I realized that the humanities and the sciences are the same conceptual discipline that happens to deals with problems of varied complexity, I realized that while humanities scholars have the humility to point out the inexactness of their disciplines in search for answers to complex problems, scientists don’t convey the flip side (that the exactness of their responses comes at a cost of transforming what’s around us to something simpler. In a way, then, the problem with the sciences is that the apparition of precision creates a dangerous approximation. Moreover, by forcing you to frame yourself in terms of models, sciences tend to be escapist and detach you from your nature; wouldn’t you rather feel the answer even if you can’t write it down, than write down a precise answer to a much more simplified question?

A final strength of humanities is that they don’t constrain themselves to be brittle. In mathematics, out of billions of statements, if you insist on just one to be different, you destroy all of mathematics. In physics, a new discovery may force us to rewrite the textbooks that we have used to teach generations (this has, in fact, happened about a hundred years ago already!). In a way, past results in the sciences are not indicative of future performance. But the lessons of history, even if imprecise, are a pretty good beacon for its future.

Animated Shows

Sunday, September 19th, 2010

When I was growing up, we had two TV channels, programming started at 6pm and ended at 11pm. At 7pm all kids would sit in front of the TVs and watch a great animated TV show. Sundays were the best — animated shows imported from abroad (mostly the U.S.), with voiceover and everything!

The Moomins


[source]

The Moomins

They haven’t really been popular here much, but I have some very warm memories of watching the Moomins. The show is really serene, soft, and a little creepy.

Rescue Rangers


[source]

Rescue Rangers

My favorite TV show tune of all times. And, quite frankly, I kind of wanted to be Chip (that was before Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, I guess).

Gummi Bears



[source]

Gummi Bears

I liked this show primarily because there was a whole colony of “Other” Gummi Bears that was across the sea that the Gummi Bears desperately tried to find. No matter how close they got, they could never actually find the others. I liked the mystery of it.

Come to think of it, I guess I also liked the fact that those seemingly quite normal bears acquired superpowers after they drank the mystery potion.

The Smurfs



The Smurfs

I used to like the Smurfs because they were a rather original idea; I’m not sure anybody expected blue creatures with white hats to be so successful. However, the show was a little too predictable; the characters were too stereotypical (one is always clumsy, the other is always depressed, etc.). I abandoned the Smurfs in favor of Gummi Bears.

Duck Tales



[source]

Duck Tales

Another great show tune.

Disney did a great job casting their shows with characters — first, the choice of an animal was just brilliant: ducks are toony, their faces are expressive (and the beaks are funny), and the great sounds they make when under stress come for free. But also the decision to base the show on three brothers and their uncle, a stingy millionaire modeled on Scrooge, is original, clever (the fact that it’s their uncle and not their dad gives them more freedom to go on their crazy adventures (which are also made possibly by their uncle’s wealth) and make fun of him occasionally (and point out why it’s bad to be greedy).

Darkwing Duck



[source]

Darkwing Duck

I haven’t really watched it much, but I really liked the imagery — the protagonist, a duck in a cape, dressed in purple. There was a video game based on the show that I would play religiously.

What Killed Commodore

Monday, September 13th, 2010

I consider Commodore Amiga to be probably the one thing that shaped my life the most, and the thing I respected the most throughout my entire adolescent and adult life. It was a computer far ahead of its time. “The Amiga was so far ahead of its time that almost nobody–including Commodore’s marketing department–could fully articulate what it was all about.”

Subsequently, I was somewhat shocked when I read this. The post is probably exaggerating, with the majority of the patents being somewhat legitimate, but this is a great example (albeit a painful one for me personally) of how patent law stifles innovation.

If you haven’t heard of Amiga, you should download an Amiga emulator (or here) and play some of the games that I’m sure you’ve played on other platforms, such as the Lemmings, Dune, Mortal Kombat, or Civilization. Take a look at how advanced the computer was for the time (it was early 1990s!).

Nature

Wednesday, September 8th, 2010

Relatively recently (only a couple of years ago) did I develop a deep appreciation of nature. When I was little I wasn’t a big fan of the outdoors — that fact that I wasn’t the most popular kid on the block to play with, and a fortnight camping with the entire family helped solidify that.

I remember the reversal very distinctly — fresh in the U.S., in September, I heard secadas making that characteristic noise. For a long time I didn’t know what the origin of the noise was; initially I thought there was some construction going on in the distance. Once I learned what it was, I was shocked at the intensity of the sound. I realized that I hadn’t really spent much of my life outdoors and decided to change it.

I’ve got to the point where I feel anxious when I’m not outside once a day when the weather is good, especially in the summer. I love the warmth and slight humidity of the Northeast summer air; and I love the smell in the air — I open the window during the air so that this fresh smell fills the room.

If you haven’t been outdoors, definitely venture out, while the summer’s still here.