FORMS 3: Revenge of the eForm

Have I mentioned before that I hate forms? Okay, just checking.

While forms in themselves are tedious, repetitive, often ambiguous and overall a terrible bore, nothing can compare to the viciousness of the eForm. On a hardcopy form it is possible to add comments on the margins or write under the line. On an eForm? You are entirely at the mercy of the form designer. If they decide to set up the form such that it is completely impossible to accurately transcribe your address in the given space, then you will, in fact, be unable to accurately transcribe your address in the given space. And good luck to you if you get a drop-down box which fails to take into account any unusual circumstances which may happen to apply to you.

I welcome the day when telepathy becomes a norm. Not only will you be able to open doors by flicking your eyes at them, or pick the exact colour you're thinking of, or have conversations at the speed of a neuronal impulse. No, the key application will be in the filling of forms, using nothing more than thought.

Think about it.

Chocolate Biscuit Pudding

This is a traditional recipe which both of my parents instantly recognised. It occupies the same spot in my country of origin that jelly slice does in Australian cuisine, as a simple, common dessert with numerous variations.  I've updated this recipe in 2014 with some minor modifications and notes.

Chocolate Biscuit Pudding

Ingredients
225 g semisweet chocolate chips
125 g butter
3 eggs, separated
1 package (about 225 g) Marie biscuits
1/2 cup caster sugar
3/4 can sweetened whipped cream
1/4 cup water
1 cup milk
200 g sliced or slivered almonds, lightly toasted
1 tbs rum (substitute with brandy or strong coffee)
1 tsp vanilla essence
Pinch (1/16 tsp) salt

In a heat-proof bowl, combine chocolate chips, water, vanilla essence and rum. Set over a pan of simmering water, until the chocolate has just melted. Cool to room temperature. Whisk in the butter until combined.

Reserve 1 tbs of the caster sugar. Beat egg yolks and the remaining sugar at high speed until pale yellow and creamy. At a lower speed, beat in the chocolate mixture. Spray some whipped cream on top and fold in to break up the mixture. Fold in the rest of the cream.

At high speed, beat egg whites, the reserved sugar and salt until soft peaks form. Carefully fold the eggs whites into the chocolate.

Briefly dip the Marie biscuits in milk, so that they are fully covered in liquid. Line the base of a 8" square tin with the biscuits. Spoon an approximately 1 cm layer of the chocolate mixture over the biscuits, spreading with a spatula to cover evenly, and sprinkle with the almonds. Add another layer of biscuits, and repeat until all the chocolate mixture is used up (ensure that the almond layer ends up on top). Cover with cling film and chill in the fridge from two hours to overnight until firm.

Notes

225 g is a lot of chocolate chips. For a less rich pudding, reduce to 150 g. I like to mix bittersweet and semisweet chocolate chips (Ghirardelli conveniently manufactures both types).

Did you know that chocolate Marie biscuits exist? FairPrice introduced them 2009. They can be used to prepare a double-chocolate pudding. The part of me which is completely unconcerned about health considered using Khong Guan's chocolate sandwich biscuits for even more chocolate.

If you don't want to use canned whipped cream, increase the amount of sugar to 3/4 cups and use an electric or stand mixer to whip 200 g cream at medium speed. Use only cream labelled as whipping, thickened or heavy cream - check the packaging to ensure that it contains between 30-50% fat. 

Before layering the biscuits, they can be dipped in coffee instead of milk; it's a matter of personal preference. There also seem to be divided opinions as to whether the biscuits in each layer should lie flat or overlap slightly.

I had success preparing the pudding in a loaf pan; the pudding ended up with four layers and, better still, occupied less shelf space in the refrigerator (it's not like you can stack something on top of it...).

The pudding must be kept chilled almost constantly, or it will start to melt.

Concerning the End of Bionicle

This news isn't new by any means, but I've been waiting a little before commenting... The gist of it is that LEGO will stop producing Bionicle sets in the immediate future, possibly forever. While the storyline isn't about to end immediately, it's hard to see LEGO making a long-term investment to develop a story which won't be bringing in any more money. It seems then that the Bionicle Stars were, aptly, a farewell gift.

What do I think of this? Well, first of all I have to say this was expected. I didn't predict Bionicle would end so soon, but it was bound to happen the minute the line stopped being profitable. It is probably a credit to the line that it has managed to last so long. Given the difficulty of appeasing old fans, attracting new fans and producing new sets to make money with every single year... well, it shouldn't have been a surprise at all.

Secondly, while I wish the story could have wrapped up neatly, with a few more years of story building up to the final defeat of the Makuta once and for all, clearly we're going to get something reasonably anticlimatic, if we get a proper conclusion at all. This, I suppose, cannot be helped.

Thirdly, I now have an excuse to buy a few more Bionicle sets. I had my eye on Bionicle Stars Tahu.

Fourthly, any piece of fiction will live on as long as it has fans. There is absolutely no reason to stop writing fanfiction or building MOCs. Previously, it was LEGO's job to keep coming up with new material to inspire us. Now this task has been handed back to us.

I think we can handle it.

Landscape

As we come to the end of my time in this country (for the time being, at any rate) and the day fast approaches when I must commence packing (not the most pleasant of duties, no) I find myself revaluating my...

Aw, heck. Here's a pretty picture.

A lake which a lot of people are completely unaware of.

Discomfort

My face itches. If I look in the mirror I know I'll see a faint reddening on both my cheeks, right below the eye sockets. Sunburn.

The one day I forget the sunblock.

Although the window is open, the air is close and stifling. It is hot, unreasonably so. Even a fan offers little respite.

Around me are the various belongings which I must somehow pack in a matter of days. Their presence nags at me constantly.

I am unsettled, restless in such surroundings. The curry I had for dinner shifts unhappily in the inner regions of my gut. It positively reeked of cumin, and now I pay the price for attempting to do it some justice.

A lesson learnt: curry should always be treated with suspicion, especially if a single spice appears to be in excess.

Somehow this unsettled feeling will leave. Until then I am a prisoner in my own uncomfortable, itching skin.

Childhood's End

Late at night, with a cup of apple juice generously cut with ice, the reflective thoughts arise.

There are movies, you see, and books and comics, about high-schoolers worrying about their graduation, about college and living through it. It's such a commonplace setting that it isn't questioned anymore.

I'm there. I'm past that.

I am no longer a student. I am an adult. An adult with a degree. Somehow I passed university, like it was nothing.

Something tells me it should have been different, significant, difficult at least. But it was much the same as always. The same type of challenges, met with the same fervour in solving them. I think, if possible, I have become even more childish this year. At home, uniformity was important. Here, being different is celebrated.

After work I bring chocolates for everyone, to thank them - for being there? For their little instances of helpfulness? No matter. My supervisor has long gone home, so I tape some leftover chocolate to his office door. The next day he comes to me, asking - Were those for him? From me? There is a pleased sort of softness to his tone - and I don't know what to say. I don't know how to tell him there was nothing special about what was attached to his door. I don't know how to deal with this new information, that he would readily accept a gift from me, even if there was no occasion for it.

I come back to my desk and find that the little toys I've kept around are now on another person's desk, in positions which may charitably be referred to as "indecent". Piqued, I dismantle the diorama.

Childhood has not ended, for me or anyone else.

Update XXV: Deadlines

So I've noticed that, no matter how much time I'm given to complete a task, I generally end up working ten hours non-stop and late at night on the day before the deadline. Is it a persistent inability to estimate the amount of time required to complete something? Chronic procrastination which is overridden by panic only in the final forty-eight hours? Or the fact that no work is truly complete, and given more time I simply make more edits up to the final minutes? I suspect the answer is a combination of all three.

However, now the toughest 20,000 words I've ever had to put together, accompanied by some twenty images, have been submitted and are presumably in the process of being marked. Meanwhile, I'm left with the final hurdle of my final talk, which will be given in front of the entire department. I'm still putting it together, but I feel better about this one than my initial talk about six months ago. Back then, it was ridiculous how little I knew about my own project. Now, I know every weave of it. I feel ready to defend it against questioning. I want to defend it.

This is not to say that all my days so far have been occupied solely by work-related matters (although that has been my main preoccupation). I've also taken the time to watch The Dollars Trilogy - previously, I'd only seen The Good, the Bad and the Ugly, which I now realise is a prequel to A Fistful of Dollars and For a Few Dollars More (if Blondie's wardrobe is anything to go by). All three films are absolutely fantastic. They have a certain grittiness which seems to be lacking in modern films, even the "edgy" ones. Here, the violence isn't senseless; it seems completely natural, given the type of people and the harsh environments the film depicts. "Il Buono" himself is often self-serving and heartless, though to a lesser degree than the villains. Even Col. Douglas Mortimer, perhaps one of the most honorable main characters across all three films, illegally stops a train to get where he wants, nearly provokes a bar-fight in order to prove a point, and has no compunctions about gunning down men for money. But not all is grim, and the action is balanced with sprawling scenery, little instances of dry humour, and long scenes where almost nothing happens. It is like a reflection of life, really.

Also, now I want a green poncho so I can dramatically fling it over one shoulder.

I've also been shopping recently. While a poncho didn't feature among my purchases, I got both Hot Fuzz and 2001: A Space Odyssey on DVD, not to mention some really nice clothes. Also, the soles of my old shoes were starting to peel off, so I bought a lovely new pair from Skechers. While a little pricier than I'm used to, the shoes are ridiculously comfortable and I love them already. The box had an extra set of black shoelaces, so now the left shoe sports black laces while the right one has white. I wonder how long it will take for someone to notice.

The other thing I've been doing is baking. Recently we had a charity morning tea and I needed to bring something as a contribution, so I made cheese straws and caramelised onion dip. For the cheese straws I followed the recipe in the link fairly closely. I used Cracker Barrel's Extra-Sharp Vintage Cheddar cheese, and chili powder instead of cayenne pepper. I also didn't have any cookie sheets, so I lined my baking pan with aluminium foil. I twisted the sticks so they resembled drill-bits. This was a little tricky, because the dough had to be the right consistency. I think the best would be to take the dough out of the fridge and then leave it for about 15 minutes at room temperature before cutting and shaping the straws. I baked them for six minutes, then turned them over and baked them for a further seven minutes, which got them nice and golden-brown and baked through.

For the dip, I used half a cup sour cream and half a cup yogurt instead of a full cup of sour cream, mostly because I bought a house-brand sour cream which wasn't nearly sour enough. I didn't have balsamic vinegar on hand, so I used plain white vinegar. I have to say that while two large onions seems like an awful lot, both of them are necessary as the chopped onions shrink a fair amount during cooking. The caramelised onions were very good on their own, soft, dark golden-brown and very sweet. I can think of other uses for them apart from a dip component.

When serving them I placed a small Pyrex tub in the centre of a plate, and stacked up the cheese straws log-cabin style in a hexagon around the tub. It looked great, and people loved it. (One of my colleagues confessed to eating four of them.) I'll probably try making this again when I go home. Although someone else is going to grate all the cheese. Grating a 227 g block of vintage Cheddar - not fun!

You know, it occurs to be that within two months I'll be done with this Honours year and back home. My childhood will officially and truly be over. Seems funny, considering what I was blogging about precisely one year ago. That part of me hasn't changed, and I don't want it to. There's so much out there to experience, and I wouldn't want to miss out just because of some misguided idea of what adults are supposed to act like.

So anyway, that concludes the October update. Laters.

On Internet Opinions

Let's start from a corner here. Reviews. I use the term defined as an evaluation of some sort of publicly-available material or performance, such as a book, movie or audio compilation. Back before the Internet turned into a superhighway, these would have been available chiefly in print form, in newspapers, magazines and journals. While these circulars would have had an audience, even a large one, it certainly would not be at a level comparable to that of online reviews today.

But I'm getting ahead of myself. Reviews. They are, if you think about it, a rather presumptuous means of communicating an opinion. While an evaluation of a creative work can be relatively objective - "This movie earned $60 million on its opening weekend" - reviews tend to include an opinion to mesh the evaluation together - "This movie is excellent." Or several opinions, if the review goes into more detail. However, in spite of being a collection of opinions, reviews also include a instruction, either implicit or explicit - "Therefore, you should go watch this movie" - they have to, otherwise there would be no point in writing the review in the first place. In other words, I say reviews are presumptuous because not only do they state the opinion of the writer, the reader is expected to agree with the recommendation of the reviewer.

This is not necessarily true, of course. Since the review is made up of opinions, it is perfectly acceptable that there would be people who disagree with it, perhaps even strongly enough to communicate this to the reviewer. For a review published in print however, it is possible that the reviewer would know their audience well enough to anticipate their reactions to the creative work. It is also possible, especially when communications were more limited, that readers would have been more willing to accept a single review of a work and take that as the truth, instead of buying more magazines and newspapers to see what other reviewers thought of it, or even going to look at the creative work to judge for themselves. Thus it would appear, in the era before the Internet, that dissent towards a reviewer's opinion would, while present, have been limited in most cases.

You see where I am going with this. The Internet. Oh, the Internet.

The Internet revolutionised communications - not only did it enable people from opposite sides of the globe to talk to each other, it enabled them to do so rapidly, in real time even. Suddenly, people with niche interests could find other people with the same interests. Communities based off the smallest, quirkiest things were able to take off. And with the ease and anonymity of communication over the Internet, suddenly far more opinions would have been available to a wider audience.

Reviews, of course, found their place on the Internet. But now it wasn't just reviewers who got paid for their work - someone typing a review out of their bedroom could potentially gain an audience of millions. And someone looking for a review for a particular work would be able to find hundreds for all but the most obscure of productions.

In spite of being available on an entirely new medium, reviews haven't changed in form very much. They are still collections of opinions, sometimes with a logical, reasonable basis and sometimes just pure personal judgement. They still contain that implicit instruction - "If I say it is good it is good and you should go look at it, but if I say it is bad you should not, otherwise you have wasted your time reading this review."

However, since the audience for any given review on the Internet is potentially massive, and would consist of people with wildly varying opinions of their own, the possibility of a clash is not just incredibly large, it is a certainty. Think about it. Reviews consist of opinions. They are written in such a way that you, the reader, are expected to agree with them, at least partially. They can be written by practically anyone and about any creative work including video games, webcomics and fanfiction. And since this is the Internet, almost anyone from any background can access them.

Look up the reviews for any movie or book. No matter how incredibly good or bad it seems, there will always be those who consider it the exact opposite. Furthermore, they are entirely sure that they are correct, that you are an idiot if you disagree with them, and they are willing to use profanity or threaten to kill you if that's what it takes to convince you. Indeed, it appears to be standard now to be arrogant and rude when defending one's views over the Internet. A by-product of anonymity and a lack of accountability, perhaps?

Whatever the reason, it leads to often brutal arguments wherever such arguments can feasibly occur, be it tagboards, comment boxes or forum threads. Bad arguments lead to flame wars which may even spill beyond words and into downright malicious behaviour. Clearly, opinions deeply matter to people, certainly enough to induce violence against other people from an entirely different part of the world whom they'd never meet in person.

All of this brings me to freedom of expression.

I was reading a review of a webcomic which the reviewer considered to be atrocious beyond belief. For that matter, I considered it atrocious beyond belief, and completely irredeemable. It seemed impossible that anyone could defend it. Indeed, most of the comments on that article were some variation of disbelief that the webcomic creator had not been struck down by lightning for his crimes. And then there was one comment which defended the webcomic creator's right to freedom of expression, even if most would find that expression repulsive. Said commentator was immediately shot down for disagreeing with common opinion.

As you can see, it got me thinking.

Because reviews have that implication that the reader should agree with them. Because reviews act as an instruction, to tell someone whether they should or shouldn't sample a particular creative work. But reviews are, at the end of the day, opinions. And they are never representative of everyone's opinion. No matter how bad a book or webcomic or video game might be, there is probably someone, somewhere, who would enjoy it.

But what if the review includes critique intended for the creator of the work? It's the same thing. This time the instruction is to the creator, whether they should change what they are doing or simply keep it up. Again, it is still an opinion. And even if a hundred readers tell a webcomic author that they are terrible, there are probably at least another hundred who enjoy the webcomic thoroughly. Does this give either group of a hundred the right to think that the other group consists of idiots? Certainly not. Does this give the webcomic author the right to consider either group idiots? Certainly not, not that it's going to stop them. Should the author break down weeping at the fact that a hundred people think they are terrible? Well they could, or they could continue pandering to the other hundred people who actually like them. Their choice. It is the right of the author of the work to choose what they do with their art, especially on the Internet where there are few to no laws limiting the expression of such art. Should the hundred people who consider the author an idiot, act in a disdainful manner if said author does not alter the work to suit them? They could do that, but it would make them ridiculous for even expecting the author to accede to their demands in the first place.

I suppose what I'm saying here is that it is certainly alright to express opinions of creative works on the Internet. It is definitely acceptable to write reviews and explain in detail why something is good or bad. And there is no crime inherent in reading such opinions or reviews and either agreeing or disagreeing with them.

But calling someone an idiot (or worse) because they don't agree with you? Demanding that a particular work be taken off the Internet just because you and your friends find it offensive? Threatening other people for having an opinion which just happens not to be the one you possess? That is not fair at all.

I'm afraid the tired old "don't like, don't read" directive appears to be the best approach. Yes, one may find something horribly offensive. The fact that it exists in a location where others of a similar opinion may run into it and, in turn, be offended in themselves, may irk someone beyond belief. But really, all they can do is avoid it and the people who like that sort of thing, and perhaps write a review to warn others about this abomination to their principles. However, in the interests of fairness, if someone else describes a favourite work as an abomination to their principles, one has to be able accept it too.

Unless of course, one manages to become Supreme Overload of the Internet, in which case one may do as one pleases. And, uh, disregard this post. Er, Mighty Overlord. Sir.

Please don't put me in the Internet Dungeon.

Wind and Rain

I stayed at home to do some work instead of going to the lab as I usually do.

Am I ever so glad I did. This is the time I'd normally walk back and it's raining heavily. Not just that, but we've had heavy winds today. Put that together with the unusually early sunset and it looks like we're caught in a cyclone here.

Wondering how everyone else is planning on getting home.

Rose

A Letter to an Important Person

Hi.

So. Um. I don't quite know where to start. You're really weird and, to be honest, fairly scary. I don't know how you get to be as sneaky as you are, because you are not particularly silent. Somehow you have mastered the art of fading into the background, such that you are completely undetectable until you make yourself known, generally when located behind us just as we start talking about you.

That said, I don't fear you. No, I don't care what she says. She doesn't know a quarter of what she thinks she does. I'm not convinced that you would hurt me, on purpose or otherwise, and therefore I'm not afraid of you, personally. What I do have for you is intense respect, for the strange balance of razor-sharp intelligence, authority, and gentleness, that is your personality. Inconveniencing you in any way is the last think I want to do. Therefore I stay out of your way, because I don't quite know what to do to avoid offending or annoying you. You're such a closed book, I can't judge what you prefer and what you hate. It's just been easier to avoid you altogether and therefore avoid the question of how to actually interact with you.

This wasn't right. I'm sorry. It was not until today that I realised I've been as much a closed book to you as you have been to me - that where I thought you were stoic and reserved, you were actually shy and unsure. I thought you didn't want to talk to me, but in reality you didn't know how. I didn't mean to ignore you. I just thought it simply didn't matter to you.

I won't let that happen again. I promise I'll make an effort to get to know you better. I'll share my silly little adventures with you even if I think you won't be interested, just to let you know how I'm going. I'll treat you as a person and not an obligation. I'll stop worrying about how anything I might say or do would result in a backlash from you. I'll stop being so selfish. Because I realise that's what I've been all along. I've been so careful to avoid annoying you because, ultimately, I didn't want to have to face any kind of negative consequences. I've been acting as if I've been thinking about you when, in fact, it's all been about me. And with my cowardice I've been hurting you.

You are important to me, you know. Your opinion, your insights, the things you say which I don't want to hear. And because you matter, I'm going to start putting you ahead of my need to maintain an image. I think you deserve that much, even if it is a poor return for everything you've done for me.

Thanks, and cheers.

Update XXIV: Snow

I'll go chronologically, since that makes the most sense.

As may be inferred from the previous post, I went with some friends to watch Transformers: Revenge of the Fallen on opening night here. Subsequently I've read a number of reviews by both professional and casual critics, and they have been overwhelmingly negative. Personally, my verdict is that if you like giant robot fights, vehicles and explosions, are willing to overlook silly humans and a few vulgar jokes, and are a fan of Optimus Prime, watch this movie. Otherwise, set your expectations low and/or don't bother watching it. I'll say this much, though - it was a far better sequel than Dead Man's Chest. I enjoyed it as a mindless action movie with sprinklings of good characterisation and stunning visuals, and will probably pick up the DVD when it comes out.

Over the weekend another friend took us to a ski trip to Mt. Buller. It was a good three-hour drive, but I enjoyed all of it, especially at one point where we were far enough from civilisation for the night sky to fill with stars - and not just the major constellations, but the spraypaint-like distant stars as well. It was magnificient. We stayed a delightfully rustic lodge at the base of the mountain, and drove up in the morning to the ski resort. Skiing, I must say, is a tiring activity and requires physical strength (especially in the knees and thighs) as well as coordination, balance and pure recklessness. The ski-lifts were fun though (except the part when I got off and promptly fell on my rear) and I loved the snow. It is unlike any other material on Earth. Being the massive nerds we were, we made a snow PCR machine and subsequently took a stab at a Snow Optimus.

At evening we headed back down for a pasta dinner and some relaxation. We had mulled wine over a wild game of house-rules UNO - and let me tell you this, there is nothing like playing UNO with six people, especially when the rules have been tweaked to make the game faster-paced. The game made us properly tired for bedtime. I had previously called dibs on the loft bed, and retired well-buried under a pile of blankets, pillows and a stuffed shark.

By the next day my muscles were aching and my feet hurt where the ski boots had pressed against them, so I stayed back and explored the small settlement around the lodge. I found a beautiful little creek, and managed to get a photograph of a rather bold kookaburra. I'd have made Anzac cookies too, but was defeated by a lack of baking soda in the otherwise well-stocked kitchen. I did explore the interesting collection of books in the house, which included recipe books, Agatha Christie's autobiography, an embroidery reference book and a collection of essays in the area of life sciences, such as the Gaia hypothesis and selfish genes. It was a pleasant holiday, and I was rather sad when it ended.

Naturally, living away from civilisation with no television or internet does tend to remove one from current news. But we did have a working radio, and it was from this ancient machine that we learned Michael Jackson had passed away.

Jackson has been a controversial character in recent times. But if we look impassively at his work, especially his early songs, it cannot be denied that he was a superb dancer, and that many of his music videos contained ground-breaking ideas. Furthermore, it is clear that he has contributed greatly to popular culture. I'm sad that things happened the way that they did, and I mourn the loss of another brilliant singer. Rest in peace, Mr. Jackson.

Today was a working Sunday, an attempt to restore normalcy after two days of holidaying, to let the muscle aches subside, and more importantly to get some much-needed grocery shopping done. Chocolate was purchased, music was listened to, the day wound down back to reality.

Tomorrow will be another day.

OMGGIANTROBOTSOMGOMG

Just came back from watching Revenge of the Fallen.

It was awesome.

That is all.

Nerd Eyes

Is it nerdy that when I looked at the placeholder image for Sarah Zero today, I immediately spotted the disassembled Bordakh?

Yeah, I thought so.

Incidentally, I also see some Tanma bits in there.

Old Age

So I turned 21 a bunch of days ago. While I wasn't all that excited about it, our social representative was and insisted on organising a lunch, with cake afterwards. She also stuck balloons over my desk. I still haven't removed them.

I also bought a Skrall for myself. He is very awesome.

In spite of all the celebrations and suggestions to get drunk and all, it didn't really sink in until I was attempting to get through a door which one student was blocking, as he stood in the middle of the doorway chatting animatedly to his friends. As I was attempting to slink past with a muttered, "Excuse me," one of his friends pushed him aside, saying, "Let the poor lady pass."

Looks like it's time to start investing in anti-wrinkle cream and knitting needles.

Constructive

So I just came back from a seminar presentation, and I was bothered by the criticism I received.

Let's make this clear. I'm used to receiving criticism. Being a student as well as an artist means that there will always be people who disagree with me or attempt to correct me at every instance. I have received very, very harsh criticism before and I know I can take it.

I think what disturbed me here was that my critics weren't completely negative. In fact, they also made sure to add that I had done a good job. The issue was that they went into the details of what I had done wrong, but when it came to complimenting me they fell back on extremely general terms such as "excellent."

Artists are always asking for constructive criticism, or well thought-out analyses of what elements in their pieces were not as good as they could have been. However, implicit in the request for constructive criticism is a call for constructive complimenting as well. While I like to know what I did badly so I can change it, I'd also like to know what I did right so I can maintain it in my next attempt. The idea for constructive commentary is that enough details be given so that they can actually be acted on.

From today's seminar, I certainly have an idea of what not to do. But as for what I should do again? Not a clue. And because my compliments were not as constructive as the criticism, I got the sneaking suspicion that those positive comments were lacking in sincerity.

So if you ever comment on something? Be constructive with both the good and the bad. A more detailed opinion is always better, and your reviewee will thank you for it.

Been a While

It's been a busy week.

I've been doing restriction digests. It seems that's all I have been doing, setting up the same reaction again and again until it actually works. Turns out the first attempt was actually the best one, and fortunately I still have purified products from that one. Going to use it and move on.

Then yesterday I had a poster presentation. There's the paradox with poster presentations. On one hand you want a lot of people visiting your poster and asking you questions, because it means you did your job and your work is actually interesting. On the other hand, practically everyone asks you to "talk me through your poster." I had to tell the same story at least six times, with varying levels of detail to account for differing familiarity with the subject field. And differing character.

"Tell me about antigenic shift," says one visitor.

I stare at him. He was my lecturer for Molecular Virology last year. He was the one who taught us about antigenic shift.

"You have to be joking," I say.

Wednesday was April Fools' and nothing of note happened, which was sad. On Thursday, my co-supervisor's lunch went missing from the common refrigerator, which attracted an undue amount of attention.

Today is Saturday.

It's just another day.

March 15th, Again

It's the Ides of March. Let us have a moment of silence for the great leader who died 2053 years ago.

...

Yesterday, as before, was Pi Day. (I'm still waiting for 2016 for two more digits to that one.) And the day before that was a Friday. It's been an interesting March for numbers so far.

Saturday Morning Watchmen

Who watches the Watchmen? Kids, apparently.

No, no, it's a parody. As should be clear from all the digs at the original Watchmen graphic novel as well as all the 80s cartoon references. But as I read through the comments on it, I found that while most reviewers loved the humour, some were offended at the light-hearted perversion of a very serious story. Kinda makes you think, what with all the recent movie adaptations such as GI Joe, TMNT and Transformers. What it would have been like if the mature treatments were the originals and the goofy cartoons made up later?

Anyway, I'd totally watch that cartoon.

A Letter

Dear housemate,

I understand that you have previously led a sheltered life in which you apparently were under no requirement to take care of yourself in any way. I understand that this is a new country and perhaps you are still disoriented. I understand that some things which seem obvious to the rest of us may be utterly incomprehensible to you. Nevertheless, when I examine the household recycling bin, which I had taken the precaution to label on its lid in a large font exactly what is permitted to be entered into it and what is not, and when I find within this same bin the following items:

• Used tissue
• Teabags
• Instant noodle wrappers
• Cheese wrappers
• Eggshells
• Egg yolk
• Parcel packaging indicating your full name and address
• Bank letters indicating your full name, address and account number

When I find these same items within a bin reserved for recycling, I am forced to conclude that you are severely lacking in common sense, and are perhaps illiterate as well. I would argue that you are also deficient in a sense of responsibility, a postulate reinforced by the mess left on the toilet floor as a result of your faulty aim, and which you apparently do not feel the necessity to clean up. I would propose to hold a grudge against you for such behaviour, or plan some form of humiliating revenge, except that it is clear to me that your carelessness will bring you much grief at some point in the future when you should reside amongst less tolerant and honest persons. Therefore I will continue to delve into the recycling bin, tear up your sensitive mail and scrub the floor with Dettol, knowing that there is no greater punishment than what your own stupidity will eventually inflict upon you.

I remain, with regards,
Your housemate.

Music

Long ago, people would ask me what songs I liked. Some of these people were teachers. I hated that, because that meant I had to come up with a correct answer. And as someone who was raised on wordless music, there was no correct answer. So I'd just pick a decent-looking piece and claim to be desperately in love with it.

Even now, a great deal of the music I listen to is wordless. Much of it is background music from video games and movies. I think there is something about background music, which is manipulative and uninterrupting at once.

That not make sense? Good. Stop asking about my favourites. I like many things.

On another note, what is the proper thing to say if someone asks how you are? I usually alternate between a vague non-committal reply, and accurately describing my current situation.

Ants

About a million of them, to be precise, cutting a thick path from under the front door all the way to the dustbin, where apparently some banana peel interested them. Eradication involved large amounts of water and soap, complete rinsing of the dustbin and removal of the offending trash to the garbage centre.

It seems that the hot weather is driving the ants to seek food indoors (yet another reason why I can't wait for winter). I might probably have to draw lines of baby powder, coffee, vinegar or peppermint oil, and see what keeps them out. Worse come to worst, I could always keep the dustbin standing in a basin of water. I hate having to kill them. Besides having to commit mass-murder, the corpses are annoying to clean up.

Now spiders I can live with. Come to my house, spiders. I have some ants for you.

And Away We Go!

Here today, Australia tomorrow.

Catch you on the flip side!

P.S.: The plush bacteria are coming with me.

Update XXIII: Anniversary

Because I feel that I ought to write a few words every now and then, if only for the silent lurkers who surprise me months later by quoting, verbatim, fragments of my blog posts.

It's been about two weeks since this blog turned two years old. (And still without any customised graphics. I ought to fix that some time.) I find myself with a degree completed, on the verge of heading back overseas to boost it with an Honours title. It's going to be a different year certainly, but seeing as I've survived this far, I can guess that the schoolwork won't be what kills me.

A big difference is that I will now be a senior student, with the responsibility of the new RP students to take care of. I'll try to keep them from making the same mistakes as we did, but it will be an uphill battle. I suppose there is no way they'll believe us until they've gone and suffered though it all over again.

On the drawing front, I've made leaps and bounds. Roughly three years ago PowerPoint surprised me with its almost PhotoShop-like capabilities. Now MSPaint has surprised me with its ease of use as a sketching tool, even under the control of a mouse. While paper drawing still has its advantages, I'll probably focus on improving my digital art skills. At the moment they are still limited (by time, especially), but given how far I've come, I think there is still much further I can go.

I've also surprised myself with how much better I've got at gaming. I successfully completed Red Alert 2 at a higher skill level, pulling new strategies which I never tried before and completing missions much faster than I used to. Generals seemed almost insulting in how simple it was to win. While gaming in itself is not an inherently useful occupation, the skills required to be any good at it are valuable. I like to think I am better at strategy now. (Perhaps I should try playing chess again.)

All in all, I can see I've grown as a person, and perhaps am more ready to handle the world than I used to be. While last year I was a nervous wreck, this year I aim to approach it head-on, with a generous helping of confidence.

Now for the real important question: should I take my little helicobacters with me, or leave them at home?

Meme: Gift Thingy

Got this off Eud:

The first five people to respond to this post will get something from me. It will be about or tailored to those five lucky "victims". The catch? Oh, the catch is that you have to put this in your journal as well, if you expect me to do something for you! (or facebook, or something.)

This offer does have some restrictions and limitations:

1. I make no guarantees that you will like what I give you!

2. What I create will be just for you.

3. It'll be done this year.

4. You have no clue what it's going to be. It may be fic. It may be poetry. I may draw or paint something. I may bake you something and mail it to you. Who knows? Not you, that's for sure!

5. I reserve the right to do something extremely strange.

Now post away! We love making presents, yes we do...

Retrospective: 2008

January 1st this time, and the new year has once again safely arrived. Reading the words I typed one year ago, I've decided that 2008 was the Year of Growing Up for me. I've changed as a person, one of the most important changes being that I've accepted my oncoming responsibilities as an adult. No more wishing that I could remain a child forever - that's all past and irrelevant now. No more being afraid of what will come.

That is not, however, to say that I will stop collecting plushies or Bionicle sets. I reject the notion that one needs to be a child to do those things. I'm also going to continue playing with PowerPoint as a digital art tool, because I've found that its limits can be pushed extremely far.

As for serious business, I'm going back to Australia for further studies at the end of the month. I have no idea what will happen, but I'm sure I'll discuss it as the year passes.

To the new year!