I'm not dumb. At least I don't think I am. I'd like to think I have at least average intellect. I'm not saying I'm a genius either, because let's face it, I'm not.
What I do have is a complete lack of anything that could even remotely be described as common sense.
My Kung Fu school is giving a huge Bak Mei demonstration on Friday in Medicine Hat. Being the enthusiastic martial artist that I happen to be, I decided that I'd do a few demonstrations. Four of them, in fact. Two empty hand fist forms, a staff form, and a two-man fighting staff demo. This doesn't sound like much, but the two fist forms are the longest in the style (and at full-force, they're somewhat exhausting); I hate staff forms with a passion; and the two-man fighting staff demo involves having a huge guy named Tom try to beat me to death with a stick. And that one's going to be performed last, so I'm gonna be exhaused, and Tom's still gonna be trying to beat me to death with a stick.
And all that doesn't include the Lion dance I'm doing before the Kung Fu demo.
No, I take it back, I am dumb.
Note to self: obtain defibrilator before demo on Friday....
Wednesday, June 29, 2005
Tuesday, June 28, 2005
Geek sex appeal
This actually might explain a lot.
I'm an enormous geek. I admit it. You don't get through a degree in physics, minoring in biology and mathematics without being something of a geek. You don't then go on to do a PhD. in physiology and biophysics without developing a further layer of geekdom.
And yet, I'm now rapidly approaching the two-year mark on a relationship with a young woman who, two years ago, I would have described as "waaaaaaay the hell out of my league; no, scratch that, playing a different sport."
Suffice it to say, I'm in pretty deep smit. But that's pretty understandable from my end of things. Women who are funny, intelligent, beautiful, and will voluntarily hike 75 kilometers with 50 lbs on their backs are rather hard to come by for some reason. Drews, on the other hand, are pretty dime-a-douzen-y. I think a buddy of mine from my Kung Fu class phrased it best: "You're never gonna find another woman like her, so don't screw it up."
I'm an enormous geek. I admit it. You don't get through a degree in physics, minoring in biology and mathematics without being something of a geek. You don't then go on to do a PhD. in physiology and biophysics without developing a further layer of geekdom.
And yet, I'm now rapidly approaching the two-year mark on a relationship with a young woman who, two years ago, I would have described as "waaaaaaay the hell out of my league; no, scratch that, playing a different sport."
Suffice it to say, I'm in pretty deep smit. But that's pretty understandable from my end of things. Women who are funny, intelligent, beautiful, and will voluntarily hike 75 kilometers with 50 lbs on their backs are rather hard to come by for some reason. Drews, on the other hand, are pretty dime-a-douzen-y. I think a buddy of mine from my Kung Fu class phrased it best: "You're never gonna find another woman like her, so don't screw it up."
Monday, June 20, 2005
Batman
April and I went to see Batman Begins yesterday, and I feel the sudden urge to comment on this small facet of my childhood.
I enjoy ridiculing Batman. The old-school Batman, anyway. I mean, let's face it, he's a character who practically demands ridicule. He's an untouchable icon. He can figure out exactly what his enemies are thinking; he can look at a poison and figure out an antidote for it; he can leap across rooftops; can figure out the most convoluted, twisted scheme of whatever over-the-top villain he's facing; he has a car which is armed with every toy, weapon, and device imaginable; and he can beat the snot out of an army of evil henchmen without breaking a sweat.
And let's face it, he dresses like a giant bat, and doesn't think that's weird.
This was not that Batman.
I went into this movie prepared to ridicule it. Instead, I saw a superbly-made movie that dissected his motivations, and made him a human being, instead of a guy in a suit.
So I'm totally bummed.
Maybe Fantastic 4 or War of the Worlds will provide me with more ridiculing opportunities.
I enjoy ridiculing Batman. The old-school Batman, anyway. I mean, let's face it, he's a character who practically demands ridicule. He's an untouchable icon. He can figure out exactly what his enemies are thinking; he can look at a poison and figure out an antidote for it; he can leap across rooftops; can figure out the most convoluted, twisted scheme of whatever over-the-top villain he's facing; he has a car which is armed with every toy, weapon, and device imaginable; and he can beat the snot out of an army of evil henchmen without breaking a sweat.
And let's face it, he dresses like a giant bat, and doesn't think that's weird.
This was not that Batman.
I went into this movie prepared to ridicule it. Instead, I saw a superbly-made movie that dissected his motivations, and made him a human being, instead of a guy in a suit.
So I'm totally bummed.
Maybe Fantastic 4 or War of the Worlds will provide me with more ridiculing opportunities.
Tuesday, June 07, 2005
Be Water.
Bruce Lee, in an interview not long before his untimely death, offered the following dictum:
Empty your mind: be like water. Put water in the cup, it becomes the cup; put water in a bottle, it becomes the bottle; put water in a teapot, it becomes the teapot. Water can flow, or it can crash; it is formless, so it assumes all forms. It's simple, direct, and free.
Be water, my friend.
And that is the sum of my available wisdom for today.
Empty your mind: be like water. Put water in the cup, it becomes the cup; put water in a bottle, it becomes the bottle; put water in a teapot, it becomes the teapot. Water can flow, or it can crash; it is formless, so it assumes all forms. It's simple, direct, and free.
Be water, my friend.
And that is the sum of my available wisdom for today.
Wednesday, June 01, 2005
75 kilometer Torture Tests
You know, there are some out there who would tell you that dragging your girlfriend on a 7-day, 75 kilometer jaunt around Vancouver island is somewhat unwise; or at the very least, an act which is ill-advised to strengthen the relationship. And, I confess, there is likely some validity to that viewpoint.
April and I hit the West Coast Trail on the 12th of August, and hike for 7 days from Port Renfrew to Bamfield.
My Dad's describing this as the Make or Break trip. I'm not sure if that kind of pressure is really warranted, but there may be some truth to that. We're going to be hiking for seven days. Just the two of us; alone, over rough terrain, sharing the trail with a bunch of slugs.
Lots of fun, that will be.
And yes, I'm really looking forward to it.
April and I hit the West Coast Trail on the 12th of August, and hike for 7 days from Port Renfrew to Bamfield.
My Dad's describing this as the Make or Break trip. I'm not sure if that kind of pressure is really warranted, but there may be some truth to that. We're going to be hiking for seven days. Just the two of us; alone, over rough terrain, sharing the trail with a bunch of slugs.
Lots of fun, that will be.
And yes, I'm really looking forward to it.
Tuesday, May 31, 2005
The difference between.....
There's a fundamental difference, I realized last night, between showing an art, and marketing it.
And make no mistake about this one, there's a reason why they're called the martial arts. How someone can watch our SiFu go through one of his weapons forms and not describe it as an art form is beyond me. It's like a dance. Poetry in motion.
But that's not what I want to talk about, really.
We did a Kung Fu demonstration last night at the Devonian Gardens in Calgary. Lots and lots of fun was had, and we had a great opportunity to show the art.
We were not, however, the only martial arts group there. One of the local Hap Ki Do schools was also doing a demonstration, so we got to see a little bit of their show.
Now, don't get me wrong, these people (a lot of young kids in their group, by the way; they looked to have an average age of about 16) were remarkable athletes; but somewhere along the line they'd lost the art, and were basically trying to sell it to the people watching. Flashy music, staged fight sequences, kicking demonstrations; all very impressive looking, but at the end of the day, that's not what the art is about.
Now, granted, when we demonstrate our forms, we do have Chinese drums, gongs, and cymbals playing; but that's because that's how it's traditionally done. I think it has something to do with the idea that if you can focus enough to do your form with a really loud racket distracting you (and believe me, those drums can be pretty damned distracting), you can use these skills when you need them. Or at least, that's the explanation that makes the most sense to me; I mean there has to be some reason it's been done that way for 500 years. The bottom line is that we were showing what the art is. We weren't trying to sell it. If people approached us afterwards, we had some business cards to offer them, whereas the other school had pamphlets that they handed out to every one in attendance. We took this opportunity to show our skills, they took it to sell their school.
Of course, I commented to my Daai Si Ying that I felt horribly undisciplined as I watched these 16-year-olds going through their warmup in perfect unison. We, by contrast, were sitting on the bench he was about to use to break some rocks, leaning casually against the railing behind us. Some of our school was out there doing some situps, doing an impromptu warmup, or running through a form. Every once in a while one of our school members would smack another and they'd start sparring; but really, there was no real rhyme or reason to it. They had sixteen students there, standing in a perfect 4 x 4 square, throwing a series of punches in perfect unison; doing a series of push-ups and sit-ups on one count, throwing a series of kicks right together.
Yeah, we don't do that.
But it works just fine for us.
And make no mistake about this one, there's a reason why they're called the martial arts. How someone can watch our SiFu go through one of his weapons forms and not describe it as an art form is beyond me. It's like a dance. Poetry in motion.
But that's not what I want to talk about, really.
We did a Kung Fu demonstration last night at the Devonian Gardens in Calgary. Lots and lots of fun was had, and we had a great opportunity to show the art.
We were not, however, the only martial arts group there. One of the local Hap Ki Do schools was also doing a demonstration, so we got to see a little bit of their show.
Now, don't get me wrong, these people (a lot of young kids in their group, by the way; they looked to have an average age of about 16) were remarkable athletes; but somewhere along the line they'd lost the art, and were basically trying to sell it to the people watching. Flashy music, staged fight sequences, kicking demonstrations; all very impressive looking, but at the end of the day, that's not what the art is about.
Now, granted, when we demonstrate our forms, we do have Chinese drums, gongs, and cymbals playing; but that's because that's how it's traditionally done. I think it has something to do with the idea that if you can focus enough to do your form with a really loud racket distracting you (and believe me, those drums can be pretty damned distracting), you can use these skills when you need them. Or at least, that's the explanation that makes the most sense to me; I mean there has to be some reason it's been done that way for 500 years. The bottom line is that we were showing what the art is. We weren't trying to sell it. If people approached us afterwards, we had some business cards to offer them, whereas the other school had pamphlets that they handed out to every one in attendance. We took this opportunity to show our skills, they took it to sell their school.
Of course, I commented to my Daai Si Ying that I felt horribly undisciplined as I watched these 16-year-olds going through their warmup in perfect unison. We, by contrast, were sitting on the bench he was about to use to break some rocks, leaning casually against the railing behind us. Some of our school was out there doing some situps, doing an impromptu warmup, or running through a form. Every once in a while one of our school members would smack another and they'd start sparring; but really, there was no real rhyme or reason to it. They had sixteen students there, standing in a perfect 4 x 4 square, throwing a series of punches in perfect unison; doing a series of push-ups and sit-ups on one count, throwing a series of kicks right together.
Yeah, we don't do that.
But it works just fine for us.
Monday, May 30, 2005
A world of hurt.
I've been taking Kung Fu now for about two years; and that's a pretty hefty workout regimen. Three nights a week, I spend three hours working out with the school; on nights when I'm not in the school, I spend an hour working out alone (beating the snot out of a heavy bag, practicing forms, etc.); and as if all that wasn't enough, a buddy of mine comes over once a week and we spar for about an hour.
Suffice it to say that until this weekend, I thought I had a reasonable idea of what pain is.
My mistake.
My Daai Si Ying brought some of his best and brightest (and me) in for a private lesson on Sunday wherein we learned some of the deeper secrets of Kung Fu; and believe me, there is quite a bit of depth there. The great thing about this is you learn so much by doing it; the unfortunate thing is that you come to realize just how much you don't know.
Suffice it to say that in terms of workout intensity, this we're sitting in an entirely new ballpark.
In hindsight, it probably wasn't the smartest idea for me to do a long day hike (a little over 13 km) the day before, followed by a three-hour Kung Fu class that night, followed by a three-hour private session the following morning.
In short, I hurt. A lot.
Suffice it to say that until this weekend, I thought I had a reasonable idea of what pain is.
My mistake.
My Daai Si Ying brought some of his best and brightest (and me) in for a private lesson on Sunday wherein we learned some of the deeper secrets of Kung Fu; and believe me, there is quite a bit of depth there. The great thing about this is you learn so much by doing it; the unfortunate thing is that you come to realize just how much you don't know.
Suffice it to say that in terms of workout intensity, this we're sitting in an entirely new ballpark.
In hindsight, it probably wasn't the smartest idea for me to do a long day hike (a little over 13 km) the day before, followed by a three-hour Kung Fu class that night, followed by a three-hour private session the following morning.
In short, I hurt. A lot.
Tuesday, May 24, 2005
Dances with Lions
So, we did another lion dance this weekend.
One of my office mates was gettin' hitched. I wasn't actually invited to the wedding, but I ended up crashing it 'cause my Kung Fu Studio was hired to do a lion dance at the reception.
So, as of right now, I'm officially the only bachelor in my office. Kinda scary considering that one of the people I share an office with looks about 16. I think he's mormon; although in fairness, I don't actually know exactly how old he is.
I do know that there's no way in hell he's over 20, though.
An old high school pal of mine is about to pop out her first kid, another just announced his engagement, another former acquaintance of mine (I don't really talk to her much 'cause, frankly, she's a bitch) had twins a few months back, and now I have an office mate who just got himself Ball-and-chained.
Wow.
When the hell did I get all grownupy!?
It kinda sneaked up on me. I'm thinking career, home, life, family. What happened to the day when the biggest concern I had was when the latest Transformers toy would be on sale? And, yes, I am aware of how much that dates me.
Not that I'm feeling any particular pressure to change my current marital/familial status. Things are going very well (amazingly well, considering the jackass April has to put up with) right now, and at the moment, as far as I can tell, neither of us really feels the need to change anything. Granted, things may change in the next few years, but for the moment, what's the rush?
On the subject of not wanting to grow up, April and I went out to see the latest (and, I'm hoping, the last) installation of the Star Wars franchise. Actually, this one wasn't so bad. The first two "prequels" were, let's face it, lousy in a way matched only by the Lord of the Rings trilogy (although, I must confess that watching Yoda hop around like a green monkey on speed almost makes Episode II worth watching in and of itself... almost.); so I walked into this one with my expectations low. Maybe it's because my expectations were so low that I enjoyed it, I dunno. That's a philosophical debate for another time.
Episode III will likely not go down in history as a masterpiece of cinematographic work. It's well-done to be sure, the special effects are spectacular and very nearly make up for the (many) shotcomings in the script; frankly, a lot of the dialogue needed some work. Ewan McGregor and Natalie Portman; both very talented actors; were noticeably struggling with this movie, and many of their lines came off as forced and/or hoaky. Not through any fault of theirs, the script was just a litle weak in some places. And Hayden Christensen spent most of the movie pretending to act. But, one could forgive his stony, semi-emotionless exterior in this film; he's turning evil, after all. He almost managed to pull off cold, obsessed and emotionless in this film. Of course, that's not too different from his performance in Episode II when cold, obsessed and emotionless wasn't quite called for, but here, it actually worked.
So, without spoiling the movie, I suppose I can offer the following critiques:
Ian McDiarmid plays "creepy" better than any actor in the universe.
Natalie Portman: easily the most talented performer in the entire movie, pity the script wasn't good enough for her.
Ewan McGregor: Manages to accomplish what can only be described as a miracle, considering the aforementioned weakness of the script
Hayden Christensen: One day, he will learn to act, I just know it.
Samuel L. Jackson: Who's the black private dick That's a sex machine to all the chicks? Shaft!
Yoda: Easily the best-acted character in the entire film, and he's entirely computer-animated.
Okay, that's me signin' off for now.
One of my office mates was gettin' hitched. I wasn't actually invited to the wedding, but I ended up crashing it 'cause my Kung Fu Studio was hired to do a lion dance at the reception.
So, as of right now, I'm officially the only bachelor in my office. Kinda scary considering that one of the people I share an office with looks about 16. I think he's mormon; although in fairness, I don't actually know exactly how old he is.
I do know that there's no way in hell he's over 20, though.
An old high school pal of mine is about to pop out her first kid, another just announced his engagement, another former acquaintance of mine (I don't really talk to her much 'cause, frankly, she's a bitch) had twins a few months back, and now I have an office mate who just got himself Ball-and-chained.
Wow.
When the hell did I get all grownupy!?
It kinda sneaked up on me. I'm thinking career, home, life, family. What happened to the day when the biggest concern I had was when the latest Transformers toy would be on sale? And, yes, I am aware of how much that dates me.
Not that I'm feeling any particular pressure to change my current marital/familial status. Things are going very well (amazingly well, considering the jackass April has to put up with) right now, and at the moment, as far as I can tell, neither of us really feels the need to change anything. Granted, things may change in the next few years, but for the moment, what's the rush?
On the subject of not wanting to grow up, April and I went out to see the latest (and, I'm hoping, the last) installation of the Star Wars franchise. Actually, this one wasn't so bad. The first two "prequels" were, let's face it, lousy in a way matched only by the Lord of the Rings trilogy (although, I must confess that watching Yoda hop around like a green monkey on speed almost makes Episode II worth watching in and of itself... almost.); so I walked into this one with my expectations low. Maybe it's because my expectations were so low that I enjoyed it, I dunno. That's a philosophical debate for another time.
Episode III will likely not go down in history as a masterpiece of cinematographic work. It's well-done to be sure, the special effects are spectacular and very nearly make up for the (many) shotcomings in the script; frankly, a lot of the dialogue needed some work. Ewan McGregor and Natalie Portman; both very talented actors; were noticeably struggling with this movie, and many of their lines came off as forced and/or hoaky. Not through any fault of theirs, the script was just a litle weak in some places. And Hayden Christensen spent most of the movie pretending to act. But, one could forgive his stony, semi-emotionless exterior in this film; he's turning evil, after all. He almost managed to pull off cold, obsessed and emotionless in this film. Of course, that's not too different from his performance in Episode II when cold, obsessed and emotionless wasn't quite called for, but here, it actually worked.
So, without spoiling the movie, I suppose I can offer the following critiques:
Ian McDiarmid plays "creepy" better than any actor in the universe.
Natalie Portman: easily the most talented performer in the entire movie, pity the script wasn't good enough for her.
Ewan McGregor: Manages to accomplish what can only be described as a miracle, considering the aforementioned weakness of the script
Hayden Christensen: One day, he will learn to act, I just know it.
Samuel L. Jackson: Who's the black private dick That's a sex machine to all the chicks? Shaft!
Yoda: Easily the best-acted character in the entire film, and he's entirely computer-animated.
Okay, that's me signin' off for now.
Wednesday, May 18, 2005
Smooth, Drew, real smooth.
On the subject of Gravity, let's deal with something I learned the hard way today.
Gravity+absentmindedness+flight of stairs=ouch.
I took a bit of a tumble down the stairs today. Long flight of stairs too, the height difference between the first and ground floors is about 25-30 feet on that particular stairwell (the U of C med school was basically made of three buildings patched together, and sometimes they don't quite fit perfectly, so in some places, the stairwells have more stairs than others), but fortunately, I only had to drop half that distance.
'Course, it probably would have been a little easier if I had just dropped, instead of having to roll my way down the stairs, slamming rather undignified into the brick wall on the opposite end of the first landing.
So, just so you know, the next time you watch a movie where one of stuntmen has to roll down a flight of stairs; that hurts.
Would've been nice if they had carpeted stairwells, but nooooo, they had to have these hard linoleum tiles. 'Course, you can't have carpeting in a hospital. That's bad. But still....
Did I mention ouch?
Gravity+absentmindedness+flight of stairs=ouch.
I took a bit of a tumble down the stairs today. Long flight of stairs too, the height difference between the first and ground floors is about 25-30 feet on that particular stairwell (the U of C med school was basically made of three buildings patched together, and sometimes they don't quite fit perfectly, so in some places, the stairwells have more stairs than others), but fortunately, I only had to drop half that distance.
'Course, it probably would have been a little easier if I had just dropped, instead of having to roll my way down the stairs, slamming rather undignified into the brick wall on the opposite end of the first landing.
So, just so you know, the next time you watch a movie where one of stuntmen has to roll down a flight of stairs; that hurts.
Would've been nice if they had carpeted stairwells, but nooooo, they had to have these hard linoleum tiles. 'Course, you can't have carpeting in a hospital. That's bad. But still....
Did I mention ouch?
Tuesday, May 17, 2005
Theory of Intelligent Falling
I think it's about time we did away with this whole outdated "gravity" idea, don't you?
Seriously, what kind of moron actually believes that there's some kind of magical, invisible pulling force between any two massive objects? Why only two? What idiot came up with the idea that massive bodies warp spacetime in their vicinity, creating a greater potential as you get closer to the mass in question? Come on, has anyone ever actually seen a four-dimensional space!?
Let's be candid: Gravity is a theory, not a fact; and we shouldn't be teaching it to young children as such. Most students in science class have never even heard of Intelligent Faller theory; much less studied it. They're taught that some mystical "gravitational" force (whose origin, by the way, we have not determined) pulls objects downwards with a force proportional to the product of their masses, and inversely proportional to the square of the distance between them. What jackass came up with that theory!?
This so-called "Gravity" fails to explain the notable absence of "transitional fallers." Instead, all objects fall into one of two classifications: fallers or non-fallers. Gravity fails to explain why a helium-filled balloon, possessing mass, fails to fall. Furthermore, it fails to explain one of the glaring errors of its own theory; the fact that all objects fall at the same rate. If the force is proportional to the mass of one of the objects, a object twice as massive should fall twice as fast; in direct contradiction to observed data.
Come on, people, this isn't how science is done! Science deals with facts and proof, not theories and evidence.
No, clearly, the only explanation which completely describes falling objects is that G-, I mean, an Intelligent Faller makes them fall.
This is really the only explanation that makes sense. Really, how dumb would we all have to be to believe that objects fall automatically, when the Bib-, I mean, when it's obvious that ther's a devi-, I mean, an ultra-intelligent invisible hand pushing objects into the ground?
We hereby propose that Intelligent Faller theory be immediately included in the science curriculum to be taught side-by-side with the so-called theory of "gravity." Students should be taught how holes in the theory of gravity can be filled simply by invoking a dei-, um, assuming the existence of an Intelligent Faller. We suggest that students become familiar with the Intelligent Faller theory, and how data published in approximately 300 CE clearly supports the existence of an Intelligent Faller.
As final proof of the existence of an Intelligent Faller; one who can make objects fall or not fall for those of True Fai-, um, those who understand his theory, we hereby propose that all students who study Intelligent Falling Theory be required immediately to jump off the nearest tall structure.
Seriously, what kind of moron actually believes that there's some kind of magical, invisible pulling force between any two massive objects? Why only two? What idiot came up with the idea that massive bodies warp spacetime in their vicinity, creating a greater potential as you get closer to the mass in question? Come on, has anyone ever actually seen a four-dimensional space!?
Let's be candid: Gravity is a theory, not a fact; and we shouldn't be teaching it to young children as such. Most students in science class have never even heard of Intelligent Faller theory; much less studied it. They're taught that some mystical "gravitational" force (whose origin, by the way, we have not determined) pulls objects downwards with a force proportional to the product of their masses, and inversely proportional to the square of the distance between them. What jackass came up with that theory!?
This so-called "Gravity" fails to explain the notable absence of "transitional fallers." Instead, all objects fall into one of two classifications: fallers or non-fallers. Gravity fails to explain why a helium-filled balloon, possessing mass, fails to fall. Furthermore, it fails to explain one of the glaring errors of its own theory; the fact that all objects fall at the same rate. If the force is proportional to the mass of one of the objects, a object twice as massive should fall twice as fast; in direct contradiction to observed data.
Come on, people, this isn't how science is done! Science deals with facts and proof, not theories and evidence.
No, clearly, the only explanation which completely describes falling objects is that G-, I mean, an Intelligent Faller makes them fall.
This is really the only explanation that makes sense. Really, how dumb would we all have to be to believe that objects fall automatically, when the Bib-, I mean, when it's obvious that ther's a devi-, I mean, an ultra-intelligent invisible hand pushing objects into the ground?
We hereby propose that Intelligent Faller theory be immediately included in the science curriculum to be taught side-by-side with the so-called theory of "gravity." Students should be taught how holes in the theory of gravity can be filled simply by invoking a dei-, um, assuming the existence of an Intelligent Faller. We suggest that students become familiar with the Intelligent Faller theory, and how data published in approximately 300 CE clearly supports the existence of an Intelligent Faller.
As final proof of the existence of an Intelligent Faller; one who can make objects fall or not fall for those of True Fai-, um, those who understand his theory, we hereby propose that all students who study Intelligent Falling Theory be required immediately to jump off the nearest tall structure.
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