Bad thoughts

One thing I have discovered over the past couple of years writing this blog is how cathartic the exercise has been. Expressing a thought in print is a whole different deal to thinking a thought. As I have said previously it forces you to formalize a thoughts and that effort is a very powerful thing. Mind you I have never been very open having only shared the blander of my thoughts and observations. I fear I would be locked up if I revealed my true self.

And this is true for most people most of the time; the stranger is kept carefully hidden. I suspect that I am not the worst offender in this Jackel and Hyde trait. I imagine that I have never met a person who appears to be what they really are – except a few of the suburban anomalies about whom I have written.

So what about you? What do you keep hidden from the world? What outrageous aspect of you do you keep concealed? What things do you deny to share with the world, and maybe even yourself? Start with the simple things. Are you an atheist who believes in god? Are you a devout Christian with hatred in your heart? Do you question your chosen sexuality?

What about those things that are deeply suppressed. What secrets does your subconscious mind hold? Those things that are so repressed that you are rarely, if ever, aware of them. Some trait that society finds so unacceptable that you have buried so deeply that you are no longer aware of it. I would like to give an example here but I am so thoroughly repressed that I can’t even think of one at the moment.

Why am I probing this thought? The thing that brought this on was a story on the local news yesterday where an 8 year old girl had been found dead in a public toilet at a shopping centre. She had been sexually abused before her death. During the course of the evening there was a report that the police had apprehended and charged a suspect. I told this to my partner and she innocently asked if he was mentally ill. My off hand response was ‘of course’.

So what flicks the switch between healthy repression (I don’t know what the technical term is) and Mr Hyde? Most of us manage to control these urges (conscious or not) our whole life while some become lead characters in Stephen King novels.

I do have a conscious urge to learn more about abnormal phycology, but, I am worried that if anyone I know finds out they might think I’m strange.

Done

The world cup is over, well, for my country anyway. The boys played well but in the final analysis they were robed by a bad referee decision. I know I will see the replay of the “not foul” that resulted in the penalty that ended our campaign many times over the next week or so.

It was an amazing effort for the team. Firstly soccer (football) is well down the list of sports enjoyed by my country. The team started their world cup run ranked about 80th in the world. Making it to the finials was a historic sporting moment and making it to the final 16 was just unprecedented. Just a slightly better call and they may have been in the quarter finals. Such is sport.

I don’t follow soccer (even though my son plays) but I do get caught up in the drama of the world cup and obviously this series was special.

The result is only hours old and I am still feeling a bit deflated. Like everyone else I didn’t expect our boys to get this far and now that they are out I think that they could have made it much further, may be even to the semi finals. And so this is what it is like following a team in a game where low scores ensure drama.

Well done anyway guys.

Immaturity

I read an interesting article today at the discovery channel web site (http://dsc.discovery.com/news/2006/06/23/immature_hum.html?category=human&guid=20060623110030). Some professor claims that many people do not achieve emotional maturity. The reasons given include the worship of youth culture and, more interestingly, the needs and challenges of the western culture.

His argument goes along the lines that people must maintain the flexibility of attitude and ability to learn of youth well into physical maturity thus locking in these behaviours. The major cause is prolonged education and job shuffling. While these are good things he asserts that the negative baggage of immaturity are also carried forward: short attention span, sensation and novelty-seeking, short cycles of arbitrary fashion and a sense of cultural shallowness.

Does this explain the jingoism and lowest common denominator that our politicians have sunk into? The shift from a time when we wanted the smartest most able leaders to one that uses nice simple words and smile a lot? Is this the reason for the rise in fundamentalist religion? Does our immaturity make us more prone to wanting to believe in fantasy and pre-occupation with immediate gratification?

So many questions. I suspect the answer to all of the above in no. While I agree that many of the well educated people I know exhibit child like emotional development (probably greater than the average population) they also tend to be the group that is most alarmed by the direction that our society is taking.

‘What about you’ I hear you ask. Yes I’ll admit to all the symptoms of having to maintain my need to learn and be flexible. While I fantasise about living some ritualistic ‘wake up and milk the cows everyday’ type existence I know that after a few weeks I would be going out of my brain with boredom. And yes I love new, I can be sullen and yes I hate being told what to do.

So it is an interesting observation but I don’t think I am any wiser with this knowledge. So there poo poo professor man!

Sleeping sickness

Imagine for a moment you are in possession of super human power.

What power did you think of? Super strength, some PSI talent, invisibility? I day dream of flying like superman. Well, more accurately, I put myself to sleep with episodes of flying. Gliding through cities I have visited, powering across vast oceans or coast lines, over deserts or forests you name it and I have been there.

I don’t know what this means. I dare not analyse it too closely – it works for me. In the past I have used many methods of attaining sleep. The least effective is staying up late. I hate being tired and usually combat it with over consumption of coffee and food. My other favoured method is to think up a little tune and then lay some lyrics over it. Atmospheric electronica or twangy blues roots seem to be the go at the moment. I don’t know why. In this one aspect it is lucky I am not a musician. If I could play an instrument I would be eager to ‘get it down’, but I am not so no problems letting the song disappear into dream land.

These are the tricks I use to distract my brain. They stop me thinking about my trivial troubles. Those things that that, in the warm wakeful darkness of my bed, become major concerns to be dwelt upon and obsessed about. They methods also stop creakily noises, phantom foot falls and distant dogs barking penetrating through. I wonder if it is something like when you try to load up to many applications on your PC at once and the whole thing stops responding to mouse clicks.

I have tried the exact opposite - not thinking about anything. This sort of works but I am not disciplined enough and the spell is easily broken. Something along the lines of nothing…nothing….nothing….nothing…itchy toe….bloody stop barking you stupid dog….I wounder what he/she meant….its 4:30am I have to get up soon….zoom over centre point tower, down along George street, loop under and over the harbour bridge to circular key past the opera house and out over the harbour to the heads and open oceanzzzzz.

Goal

And major sporting news.....

My son scored a goal (soccer, football, the world game) on the weekend. Not just any goal but a clean goal from a corner kick in! He was so amazed that he forgot to pull his shirt over his head and run around.

Amazing.

A red sports car

I want to buy a Mazda RX8. I just can’t justify spending the dollars on a ‘sexy’ car. I don’t need a new car, the current one is fine. I believe in the motto ‘drive the cheapest car your ego will allow’.

The root of the conflict is genetic pre-programming verses my left brain. I find it hard to transcend the urges imposed by these so called middle years. This time of life when displays afforded by youthfulness are replaced by displays of accumulated possessions. The red sports car years. The years when the years of hard work can be used in a vain attempt to buy back some of those younger years.

I have seen it happen with family, friends and colleagues, and now, finally, myself. I feel compassion for all those newly grey haired guys driving cool vehicles. I understand the condition but understanding, in this case, is barely enough.

If you are female, or male that hasn’t yet reached middle age, imagine yourself as a ten year old walking past a candy shop with your pocket money (allowance?) in your pocket. Your saving for a new bike and know all about tooth decay but also about sugar gratification. Do you go in or do you keep the money for the bike?

My struggle is deep. Option 1; expensive holidays with the family to exotic places, education for my son or a slightly bigger nest egg. Option 2; a nice shinny new car (penis extension if you are into Freud). For the moment option one is winning. Like the child the want is in my guts not brain and, for the moment, my left brain dominates. Maybe a nice sensible Toyota Corolla wagon instead.

Maybe my darling will buy me one for my birthday - burgundy or yellow, leather interior option.

Aches and pains

I am discovering one of the rewards of living; the accumulation of aches and pains.

This was brought into focus over the past week by a sore throat. A colony of bacterial (I hope) has set up residence somewhere near my larynx. During the day it doesn’t trouble me but in the dead of night it seems to get worse. During my slumber the need to cough wakes me. It is one of those imposable to move tickly throat sensations.

I have also been carrying a shoulder injury for the past six or so months. It is not real bad so I haven’t bother getting it seen to by a professional. Many days can go past with out any problem but if I move my arm in just the right way the pain returns. As with my throat problem it is often just enough to wake me.

So this is a preview of my future. How grim.

Taking stock

From where I am sitting at the moment I can see an interesting display. It is the local stock market indicis. High above my fair cities streets, atop one of the larger building in the CBD, the sign reports the market, its’ the direction (up or down) and by how much.

The fate of billions of dollars are announced every minute on the minute while the exchange is exchanging. My personal wealth and fate are tightly bound to this flashing sign. While I don’t own much stock directly I do have a retirement fund (and retirement is very important in my book) and, more importantly, while the economy is bubbling along my job is secure.

The other thing that is on my mind is the instability of this counter over the past week. It reminds me of the October 1987 crash. In the weeks leading up to that event the market fluctuations were huge before the final 50% drop. I know enough about controlling non-linear systems to recognise one; especially when it is approaching a cluster of local minima. In the ‘87 example the control action eventually ran out of energy and the market found its new equilibrium. Hmm….I think I will start moving my retirement funds into safer waters.

I have a natural predisposition to pessimism so seeing the ticker is not a good thing. It is a constant reminder of how fickle my life is. I have done all I can to sand bag myself from the market but the fact remains it rules my life. Sure I could find a nice secure government job but I don’t think I could exist in a bureaucracy. I like the challenge (and cash) of living a bit higher on the risk reward curve.

I know the market will crash. The only question is when. If I knew that I would buy a pile of futures. Other than that I haven’t been able to come up with a sure fire ‘get rich while every one else is drowning’ option. I guess what I really want is an investment that goes up when the market crashes but with no time to crash penalty. Tall order.

And there is the nub. This thing that is out of my control affects me so much. No matter where I look for a hiding spot this market edifice looms over my head. This is the lot of a working man in the new millennium. The nature of my work puts me closer to the front line than most but even so it affects the fortunes of every one in this country.

I guess I will stick to good old cash investments for the time being and look for bargains when the dust settles. Hmmm, I wonder what the price of gold is doing at the moment……

Nationalism

Last night I was relaxing with a couple of friends who have a very similar history to me. We laughed and talked about our home and how we came to be here. This re-kindled my love for this place and the people who inhabit it. It also reminded me of the bravery of my parents; picking up a family and moving to a foreign country – something I could not contemplate.

We talked about how our folks moved from various parts of Great Britain to this country. All of us were little more than toddlers at the time of our migration. We have grown up and started our own families under the southern sky. We easily conceded that this was amongst the best things that had been done for us. We agreed we are vastly better of than if we had of remained in the U.K.

So here are the two thoughts. I love this place and I thank my parents for their foresight.

I have often talked about this with my mum and dad (when he was alive). They too were happy with and proud of their move, but, unlike me, they still missed the life they had left behind. I know from my older siblings that my father had a difficult transition but I also know that he also loved this place and had no regrets. My mum still keeps in contact with those left behind – the news from ‘back home’ is a reminder of how much better we have it here.

These thoughts also bring a kind of sadness that my country is well down the road of disregarding the population in favour of very narrow interests. Like many other countries real wages have fallen and traditional safety nets have been removed. Freedoms and rights are collapsing while prejudice is increasing. I fear the younger generation will be worse off than their parents. I fear that the good old days may have already passed. I am angry in the knowledge that we are squandering our future for some very short term gains. Gains that have tended to concentrate around a minority. Gains, that are, in reality, borrowing from the future.

So while we are in an economic boom things are good but when the inevitable slow down occurs things will be tough.

The land of my country is great and wide. Natural beauty and resources abound. But these, just like the people, are being exploited with little regard for the future. Places I used to fish as a boy are barren. Forests I rode my bike through are now real estate. The market gardens that sustained this city are paved. I don’t think this uncontrolled development is wise. There is no buffer left. The subsistence option that held people during the 1930’s depression is not possible in our highly urbanised society.

Even taking these problems into account there are few better places to live. Even though we are falling into the trap that has captured much of the west we started from higher ground. Compared to many other countries we are free and have few class divisions. The people are still friendly and open. Our derogated environment is still hospitable and holds much beauty.

In all honesty my concern for this country and its people it is pure self interest. Anything that degrades the future of my home land will affect me. Anything that hurts the people hurts me. I don’t want to live in a dilapidated place.

I guess I have had it too good all my life and that alone is reason enough to love this place.

Last night

Last night I had a thought
Now it’s gone
The memory of its remains
Frustrating to remember the elation
But not the elater

A simple arrangement of words
Meaning beyond their number
A double and a third hidden code
No longer mine
A finding not to share

I know it was about something
I think it was hope
But maybe not
No note
No hope

Awake in bed
Time ticked
My brain adrift
The monkey typed away
And when sleep resumed
Backspace, gone

My world

My world is a strange place. There is little order or organisation – things happen. Sometimes they are directed but generally the world bumbles along doing the best it can. Non-linearity is the most noticeable feature. Complex feed back and feed forward algorithms with lots of inflections and exponential components. Energy supplied by the simple but chaotic process on the sun feeds this complexity. Forever creating new data points to consider.

The trouble is that our maths is just to immature to understand the simple reality of our existence. Even the most trivial problems of any significant are beyond our grasp. We use terms like chaotic or fractal when our understanding ruins out but I am guessing there are simple rules – we just have to figure them out (and develop a system for understanding them).

There is even a sub-branch of mathematics working away at formalising what can not be known. It is a strange concept but you can measure what you can never know. The result may well be a new universal constant. I wonder if this number will start turning up in real world equations or concepts.

So there is a fundamental problem with our math. No wonder physics has been unable to deliver a theory of everything when there are unknowable mathematical realities. So if there are things we know we can never know (with our present knowledge of the unknown) then what happens if our understanding of the unknown matures into the known?

Delay

I haven’t been posting much over the past week or so. I have been typing away but the posts have stalled in my memory stick. So with out further ado read last weeks posts……

Intelligence

Intelligence

I have thought about the emergence of a superior intelligence on earth quite a bit. This could come in several forms but the two most likely are augmented humans or completely artificial. The best bets are that this will happen with in twenty years and certainly before the end of the century. Some even go as far as suggesting that an organised system could be pulled together that would exceed human capacity within eight years.

So what have we done to prepare ourselves (humanity) for this next step change in our existence? What steps can we take to ensure that we can cohabitate this planet with superior beings? The first step is to examine the way humanity had dealt with less able species or even other humans. If we take this as a model then humanity as we know it will end. We have ruthlessly subjugated anything we could control. If/they pose a threat then we work on eliminating the threat. From bacteria to less advanced peoples humanity has shown scan regard for the other. Why would our successors be any different.

The genie can not be controlled and it is pushing at the cork right now. Attempts to prevent it happening are foolish at best. There are enough individuals with access to sufficient technology to progress this effort regardless of what legislation is enacted. The perceived rewards are just to great to resist. Anything from get richer quick schemes, global dominance and immortality are more than enough motivation to ensure that it will happen.

Science fiction authors are the key group who have thought about this subject to any depth and in general the consensus is not good. Asimov proposes a set of deeply embedded laws to control the beast. The problem with this is that the whole goal of making a superior AI will be for profit and hence exploitation is desirable property. There are also a small number of non-fiction publications dealing with the ‘Singularity’ but these tend to focus on the technology and not the outcome for the human society.

It is hard, if not impossible to predict the outcome and this is why it is has been dubbed the singularity. No one knows what will happen on the other side of it. So keep your eyes open for the event. If you have a god then pray that what ever form our successor takes that it/they will treat us better than we have treated every living thing on the planet.

Homeward bound

Well here I am at the end of another field trip. Eight days and the job is done. The pumps are pumping, the controls are controlling and the cash is flowing. All is well.

I am looking forward to getting back to my natural habitat. Apart from the usual longing for home my brother is in town. Actually he got there the day after I left. No matter how I tried I could not defer this trip or accelerate it, but, he will be staying at my place for a few days before he jets back to his home. I haven’t really had a chance to spend a day or so just talking shit with him in so long. I suspect it wont happen this time either but it is good to get together.

Tomorrow night is a big event. His son, my nephew, will be playing a gig. A real show, not practice or just mucking around with a few friends, but a rock gig at a venue. It will be the first time that my brother (or me) has seen him performing. Sure he has seen him play a thousand times in practice but this is real.

I have heard him play a number of times and he is good, possibly great. A few of my other nieces and nephews have seen him playing at this venue – it is a regular gig for his band. Apparently his performance is “wow you should see him”. The band has been together a few months and has turned a quite Friday night at the particular hotel in to a raging show.

Every time I have talked to my brother recently he has been bragging about his boys on stage prowess. He has always been proud of his sons skill but it has reached a new level. I suspect he has been frustrated at not being able to get to one of the shows. I don’t blame him. I would climb mountains to my son play to an audience.

Anyhow, just one more night in my little room on this tropical isle and then one more chopper ride, a jet, and home.

Living Dangerously

Today I was reminded what it is to live. The realization of the famous Errol Flynn quote, “When I die I want to know I have lived”. I reflected on why people do dangerous things.

Maybe dangerous is not quite the word, more like taking calculated risks. At these times, especially after the event, you are alive, larger than normal and just high.

Today’s event was energizing an electrical switchboard. It was not a large installation but well in to the industrial class of electrical gear. The fault level of a switchboard defines how loudly it will bang if something goes wrong. This board had a potential fault level of about 50,000A. For the duration of the fault that is about equivalent to the output of four 747 engines – imagine standing in the exhaust stream of that!

As these things go I set up a fairly thorough test regime before energizeation. One of these tests detected a short circuit on part of the bus bar system. If the switch had of been closed on that it would have been very bad! But we found the problem, a pile of bolts from construction of the bus bars had been left in the bus duct. Luckily one was shorting a phase to earth. I say luckily because if it had of been just not touching it would have flashed over when the power was put on. We removed the offending bolt and spent the next hour looking at every square cm of the bus bar (but found none).

As the engineer on the job, in the great tradition of engineers from roman times onward, it fell on me to close the circuit breakers. The one feeding the board from an existing switchboard looked like an overgrown light switch except with copper bus bars feeding into it (yes you could see the bus bars).

I removed the padlocks that had ensured the switch could not be moved (normal electrical safety practice). Trying to look as cool as possible for the boys while my heart was pumping I pulled the switch up. Clunk. Part one done and smiles all round.

Now came closing the incoming breaker on the board we had found the fault on. This time the serious bits of the overgrown light switch and associated copper work were nicely shielded behind a steel facia. Once more I pulled the switch up (it takes about 10kg of force). Clunk. Energised. Job done. The bridge did not fall.

It is hard to explain the exhilaration of doing that sort of thing. The risks were quite low but I knew the consequences of catastrophe. I think it is the understanding of the consequence that makes surviving it feel so good.

The Bug Man

So I admit that yesterdays post was a bit misleading. I am actually at an oil and gas installation. It is located on an island and is in the topic but it would best be described as a desert island. Well enough of the trivia.

Today I got to talking with one of the guys who is helping me on my current assignment. His nick name is Bug Man. Now this isn’t because of some unfortunate genetic mix up, it is because of his hobby and passion, collecting bugs

I drew common ground by telling him about my sweethearts’ interest and work with native plant species. He told me of his many adventures travelling the country and world in search of interesting bugs.

His favourite bug is the beetle genus Casticarina (a type of jewel beetle). He was very excited about a book that has just been published dealing specifically with this particular type of beast. The book apparently took more than 30 years of research and effort to get together. He enthused about the authors determination and how he would nominate him for the citizen of the year award. Fair enough, the work was done largely in the authors free time and expense. He also mentioned that some of the bugs he had identified turn up in the pages.

This evening he kindly lent me his copy (which I know is precious and of a very short print run). It is one of those expensively produced collector type edition, you know, heavy glossy paper and a silk book mark, very nice. As I randomly flicked through the pages I came across the acknowledgements in the back and sure enough there was his name – well done I thought. I then found a section of the book about the various collectors, past (from the 17th century) to present whose collections had helped the author. Sure enough I again found his name with a short bio – he is serious. Now I was hooked. I have spent the past hour going through all the specimens listed and found several attributed to the Bug Man and he even has two named after him.

I must say I am impressed. You often hear of amateur scientists contributing in a real way but I don’t think I have really met one before. Well done bug man for stepping up and making your mark.

Tropical Island Escape

Well here I am on a tropical island escaping the cold winter in my home town. Exotic vegetation and fauna abound. The food in my resort style accommodation is plentiful but it is only buffet service. The room is a little on the small side but it is adequate for my needs. Unfortunately there is no internet connection so I am bloging this on my laptop and uploading via a thumb drive when I chance to find an unguarded connected machine.

The weather is a bit cooler than I expected but the minimum shouldn’t drop below 20 C for the period I am here and the maximums are in the high 20’s. Rather a pleasant change from the first winter cold that has descended back on my turf.

Sadly my darling and son aren’t here to enjoy the facilities afforded to me but some how I don’t think they would be enjoying it as much as me. While the natural wonders of this location are many and varied the man made environment dominates and it is not really suited to family activities. In addition the local laws forbid entering many of the mangrove and beach areas. Having said that just this morning a huge bird appeared over the cliff that the outdoor bar is built upon. It was so big that as I first caught sight of it from the corner of my eye I thought it was someone on a hang glider.

Of course the only way to get here is by helicopter and that is always fun. Zooming over the reefs and other islands that form this archipelago. The heliport was just as chaotic as the last time I was here just over three years ago.

There were a couple of years when I was a real regular. The locals all knew my name and I knew quite a few of theirs. As you would expect the younger staff have a fairly high turnover rate but most of the old hands knew me. I even caught up with one of the guys I went to high school with.

Well It’s getting on for 9 pm and it is time for bed. I have to be up at 5:00 to get a chopper out to one of the nearby man made islands. I am lending a hand to the locals – something about commissioning a new oil export pump system.

And some people call it work!