Friday, June 30, 2006

For future reference

Note to self: don't date other biologists.

At USAMRIID, Lisa Hensley began doing research on SHF, a Level 3 virus that is harmless to humans but is devastating to monkeys. It was a virus that could emerge as a human disease someday. Her social life had opened up, and she had begun dating a virologist at the National Institutes of Health in Bethseda, Maryland. Things didn't work out well between them. The problem was that when they argued with each other, it was about viruses. Scientific people are competitive types, and they like to be right. Any sort of discussion about viruses with her friend could turn into an emotional fight. One time, they were in his apartment debating some minor point about a virus, and he said, "You're wrong about that." She went over to a shelf, grabbed a textbook, and opened it to the page that showed she was right. She placed it on the kitchen table and walked out. Hensley admitted to herself that this was perhaps not emotionally shrewd. When they broke up she vowed to herself, No more scientists, they're a headache.
- Richard Preston, The Demon in the Freezer, pp. 139-140.

Later in the chapter Hensley takes her parents on a tour of USAMRIID because her mother is worried (materal paranoia *rolls eyes):

Then she discovered what you wear inside a biohazard space suit: green cotton surgical scrubs, latex surgical gloves, and socks. That is all. Underwear is forbidden in a hot lab. Karen Hensley was mortified for her daughter. She could not imagine why they would make any woman work in a laboratory without a bra.

Going commando at work in scrubs which, although clean, are stained with the bodily fluids of both animals and other humans...yah that takes some getting used to =P I don't understand all these stupid nurses and vet techs who walk around on the street, go to lunch, drive cars home, etc., in scrubs. It's like "Hello, the point is to prevent cross-contamination between the outside and the inside..."

Yah and doctors and scientists in movies never button their lab coats. Because, you know, if any hazardous liquids ever splash on you, it's going to be from the back.

Wednesday, June 28, 2006

My political friends

(NB: when my family was in America, and through college, my alias was "Kelly". I got fed up and ditched it after graduating.) There was one time in 2004 when John Kerry came to vist Appleton for a campaign rally. We waited 3 hours in the cold and damp for him to show up. I thought he was being a jerk, so I just waited long enough to see his face and chau'd (later EK told me that's how political rallies are...well then, all politicians who aren't punctual for their supporters are jerks then). The next day, though, I found this email from AT:

I'm not going to the Kelly rally. You have fun! Maybe take some pictures too ;)

I wrote back:

The "Kelly" rally?

Thank you for your support! And I promise that as president I will not raise taxes for the middle class!

She wrote back:

Yup, didn't realize the mistake until you mentioned it. Hahah! Got confused with my 'r's and 'l's. But it would be great if you were president ;)

A couple days ago I had this even funnier conversation:

[03:03] Steve: Colon Powell should be president.
[03:03] Steve: he could get it so easily
[03:04] Steve: basiclly waltz into the oval office
[03:04] me: one of my friends told me he was thinking of running last time but his wife wouldn't let him cos she was afraid he'd get killed (too many people in this country still cant' deal with the idea of black people having power)
[03:05] Steve: wait...for president?
[03:05] Steve: isn't it kind of hard to run when you aren't well entrenched in either of the parties?
[03:06] me: yeah, too bad for him. i thought he was cool.
[03:06] Steve: was this in madison?
[03:07] me: was what in madison?
[03:07] Steve: your friend?
[03:08] me: i don't remember whether it was david or eric
[03:09] Steve: none of whom are black?
[03:10] me: *slaps forehead* the HIM in that sentence was referring to colin powell.
[03:10] Steve: oh
[03:10] Steve: rofl
[03:10] me: one of my friends told me COLIN POWELL was thinking of running for president
[03:10] Steve: wow, all makes sense now

Monday, June 26, 2006

Maggi mee pets

Oh, my baby sis FlowerMoonFish told me two amazingly bad Shakespeare jokes this morning when I called Singapore:

Q: What are the two names of the king of Scotland?
A: Duncan, and Mark, because in Macbeth they say "Mark, mark, King of Scotland.

Q: Who was the first Singaporean/Malaysian in Shakespeare?
A: Enobarbus in Antony and Cleopatra, because he goes "Is it? Is it?"


This fellow's created an amazingly comprehensive hoax: a retail display of Genpets, artificially engineered animals sold in a state of suspended animation which will wake up and imprint on you when you take them home and open the package. You have a choice between one- and three-year lifespans, and different personalities designated Red, Orange, Yellow, Green, Blue, and Violet (hmm...Mat Jambul Ke Hutan Bawa Ibu Ular is the mnemonic for the rainbow in Malay). There's even a reseller catalogue (PDF), for those who want to make some money on this amazing innovation.

It's his freaking UNDERGRADUATE art thesis project some more. Some people are frighteningly brilliant, and I don't mean that merely in the sense of academic capability or test scores. It's a combination of native intelligence, imagination, and a certain drive that I'm envious of. My friend AT has it; she put up some music scores on the Internet and now she's had people literally all over the world asking to perform her compositions. (By purely academic standards, I'm pretty smart but I'm still a bum with a major disparity between ambition and drive, writing lame posts for a blog only my friends read.)

He made bloody everything for this, even the PCBs running the little LED "heart monitors" and "Fresh Strips" on the packaging, and the animatronic movement of the Genpets. The official Genpets website is rather alarming (shades of The Island of Dr Moreau) if you don't know it's a project, or an impressive and amusing mimicry of corporate marketing-speak if you do.

I like what Brandejs says about his project:

2. Secondly I’m not against bioengineering, I’m simply hesitant towards where and how and by whom the technology will be used. That’s what this art sums up. Read on if you’re curious.
I don’t ever want to be confused for as a crazy activist, nor do I want to appear as endorsing this technology. Bioengineering could lead to medical breakthroughs that save lives, but will it? This is more a critique of corporate ethics than of technological ethics.
The commercialization of living things per se is nothing new - people have been buying and selling animals and plant seeds since the beginning of human civilisation - but the idea that entirely or partly novel organisms could be brought into being primarily for the financial gain of their creators is disturbing. I'm not sure why. I think it's linked to what E.O. Wilson calls biophilia - an innate human attraction to other life. Along with that attraction comes a certain level of respect, a recognition that these things are independent of us, and a gut feeling that they should not be manipulated arbitrarily in the way inorganic material is.

Couple of examples:

  • Innocuous, but weird to think of at first: Cell lines. Cell culture is great, but it's just a little weird to think that these live on so long after the creatures or people they came from are so long dead. For instance, Vero cells (which my lab uses for virus production) came from a monkey back in 1962, and HeLa cells are from the cancer of a woman named Henrietta Lacks who died in 1951.
  • Totally repugnant: Roundup Ready crops produced by Monsanto. I can see how inserting genes into crops to reduce the amount of pesticides used on them can be a good thing, such as that which produces Bacillus thurigiensis larvicidal toxin (plain English: kills caterpillars), as in cotton, which is another Monsanto product. But creating herbicide-resistant crops so farmers can spray MORE herbicides on their fields? That's damn bloody disgusting.

What's personally disturbing about this project, though, is its similarities to a proposal I wrote as a kid for pets that would be sold packaged in suspended animation, which you could then wake up at home. I remember typing it in this kiddy publishing program on our second computer in Seremban, so I must have been at least nine, but I'm fairly sure I was twelve or younger.

(The comp was an 80286, venerable even at the time. It had a little LED display that said '8 kHz', and a button that said 'Turbo'. If you pressed the turbo button the LEDs changed to '16 kHz' and all our games, which were on 5.25" floppies, ran too fast to play. Yes, that's KILOHertz. =D )

The technology included miniaturization of several mammalian species through genetic engineering. I think they were dogs and dolphins, possibly one more, although I don't remember. Limb-bud stage embryos (although I didn't know the terminology at the time, I'd seen pictures and that was the mental image) would be dried out in sort of a "diapause" state in a chunk of salts and proteins which would be reconstituted into fake amniotic fluid.

The kit would also include artificial gestation chambers and packets of the appropriate dried-out salts and proteins to be reconstituted into fake maternal blood, which the battery-powered chamber would pump through the baby animal. Then when gestation was complete, you'd have a little puppy about four inches high to run around on your desk, or a little dolphin the size of a goldfish to keep in an aquarium and feed guppies.

Bear in mind that at this point in life, I hadn't encountered the idea of artificial uteri a la Lois McMaster Bujold, and had only read about suspended animation a couple of times in Star Trek books. One of the influences on this was reading about that old ah pek Hammond's miniature elephant in Jurassic Park (tore through that in three hours at age ten, haha i'm a such a geek). It's explained that Hammond showed off the elephant to investors as an example of the wonders of GM, although this was false advertising since it was simply an offspring of pygmy elephants, which had been kept tiny by hormonal and diet treatments if I remember correctly.

This also would have been recently after I got my first Sea-Monkeys. The Sea-Monkey manual has this fake retro look, as if it hasn't been updated since the 1960s except for pricing and website address. There's a little pseudo-scientific blurb at the end about suspended animation, including mention of a "bear-like" creature that can live for years dried out and comes back to life when "a drop of water" touches it. I later concluded that they were referring to water bears, which are indeed vaguely bearlike...under the microscope.

I did get Sea-Monkeys again recently, as you can see below. I put some blue food colouring in the water months ago to see if they would take it into their bodies, but they haven't, and it's persisted in the water with no noticeable ill effects for quite a while. Little fishbowl was about $3 at a craft store. I'm letting the water dry out so they'll lay diapausing eggs so I won't have to worry about them when I'm back in Malaysia this fall. When I come back I'll add water and they should hatch. There definitely is something to the "instant pet" concept, but it's largely restricted to plankton and small fish.

Looking back at that project is bringing to mind a conversation EK had with his mom that he told me about: "When I went home I told my mom, 'So, I'm seeing this girl now,' and I knew her first question was going to be 'Is she Jewish?' so I cut her off immediately and said 'No.' Then she asked, 'Does she have Asperger's?'" (His mother's a shrink.) My initial reaction to that was something along the lines of "WTF kind of question is that to ask your kid about his new girlfriend?" but thinking back about how I'd get wrapped up in these insane ideas as a kid...eheheh.

I wish I hadn't thrown away the printout, but a few years later in my mid-teens I found it embarrassing as hell. Teenagers are idiots.

Tuesday, June 20, 2006

Eggstraordinary

(yeah...I need to actually write stuff some time and not let this degenerate into an "ooh funny pics" blog.)

From The Veterinary Record, Vol 137(20), p. 524. Found by chance while filing papers for my boss. The editors just couldn't resist a lame pun.

I love the way UK people write letters to magazines and newspapers - so much more polished than Americans, who tend to sound in their public correspondence as if they have a personal beef with the editors, writers, or fellow readers. "Dear Sir" and "Yours faithfully" and all that cool stuff.

Sunday, June 18, 2006

Kitties rock

Kitties rock. That's all I have to say.

National Geographic News: Cat Chases Bear Up Tree

YouTube: Kitten vs. Macbook

Saturday, June 17, 2006

T-shirt arrived!

My "compressed supermodel" shirt arrived today. I was going to do some drawing but I'm easily amused.

My boyfriend wants me to go to the supermarket and buy 2 cans of Red Bull. He wouldn't say why - very mysterious. More after the jump =D

Thursday, June 15, 2006

Quiet evening

I feel like Diana Villiers again (not John Negroponte's wife, this one), or maybe Clarissa Oakes. Or more to the point, like Nola in Match Point (Thanks to Jingle for getting me to watch that movie. I normally hate romances, but JRM was in it.)

Tuesday, June 13, 2006

Use the Farce!

A really funny thought occurred to me in the middle of a BCI session last week. Trying to make the cursor move feels like being Luke Skywalker trying to lift rocks with the Force =D I mean, it's the only real-life activity I can think of where you have to do something by sheer willpower.

Ohwell, time to go to bed. Got another appointment tomorrow morning.

Phases: Death of a Heretic

This idea is something I've been carrying around since secondary school, borne of great frustration. When you take honors-level Bio in a high school in the U.S. and then go back to Malaysia and have to take Bio all over again with a teacher who has no idea what she's talking about and classmates who think hafal = learning, it's quite the culture shock. Couldn't find my original half-a-draft so rewrote it from scratch for my Phases column.


The teacher had had the microscopes moved outside for better lighting, and now there were girls darting back and forth from the shade of the lab doors to the row of stools like pigeons flying down to feed. “Hei, come and look lah,” called one of her group members. She stepped into the sun reluctantly, twitching her skirt away from sweat-damp legs. Imbeciles, she thought, a blood smear is supposed to be thin, not thick as paint. My blood some more!

“Can see not?”
“Can...I think...I only see small dots...doesn’t look like sel darah merah though.”

Grimacing, she pushed her way through the clamour and squatted in front of the stool. There certainly were small dots in the field, but they weren’t red blood cells, more likely dust on the inside of the objective.

It’s all futile, she thought. We have a Mandarin teacher for Bio, telling us quite confidently that coconuts contain cholesterol and arthritis is caused by cold. The blind leading the blind indeed. What’s the point of learning all of this anyway? Eritrosit, leukosit, eosinofil, basofil, it’ll all be forgotten in a matter of months as soon as the SPM is over. We might as well be reciting mantras or telling the rosary; it’s nonsense to them.

Maybe it really is all nonsense. Maybe air pollution is good for Earth – it makes fantastic sunsets, at least. Maybe butterflies aren’t the adult form of caterpillars but a winged parasite that devours the chrysalis from within. Maybe menstruation is caused by a dog and a cat fighting in my belly. How should we know? Everything they teach us in school is a pack of lies anyway.

When the school bell rang she still brooded. All this nonsense about cells and hormones and genes is too complicated. When you think about how easily computers crash – the more complicated a system is, the more parts to fail. The simplest living thing would be perpetually on a knife’s edge from death, never mind the trillions of cells supposedly in the human body. I think I’ll be like the ancient Greeks, she decided. Four humours – simple, commonsensical, tangible. Anyone’s seen blood and phlegm; no one’s seen a gene yet. Even traditional Chinese medicine would be better. We know what heaty and windy feel like (well, with my dad, we know what “windy” sounds like too).

Cells are optical illusions. DNA is a deus ex machina for desperate geneticists created by the international conspiracy of Watson and Crick. Maggots can be generated from rotten meat. Malaria is caused by foul vapours. I shall be a heretic! she laughed, and the other kids at the bus stop edged away nervously.

The heat was relentless. In her room, she dropped her pinafore and peeled off the white shirt, sprawling on the bed. The thrum, thrum, thrum of the ceiling fan – the higher frequency rotation modulated by the lower frequency wobble – drew her into a hypnotic state as the sweat dried. She began to feel individual hairs on her arm stand up as the skin cooled. And in the singing of the fan, to hear voices:

“...we...”
“...catch and pull...catch and pull...”
“Drink the salt down, pump it through...”
“...come...us...”
“Halt, stranger, ...not pass.”
“...enough, send no more.”

There was no one in the room. It must have been the neighbours’ voices.

“You are...us.”
“...you hear? ...yourself...”
“...body...speaking to you.”
“How dare...like that...denied us?”
“...sheer ingratitude of the...”
“...why?”
“Nothing but...we are you.”

Then her consciousness exploded with the awareness of everything that had been hidden from the shell she called a mind. Blood flowed with chemical messages like the jungle air to a wild animal. Electrical pulses blazed down neurons, each one with more connections than any computer server could handle. The nanomachines called enzymes churned in her organs, taking in food and expelling toxins. Monocytes crawled through the interstices of her flesh, sniffing, seeking prey.

Even as she realized what the voices were, the whole system that she had turned against rose in retribution. Inflammatory molecules ran through her veins, causing a burning fever and head pain. Muscles twitched, trembled, and convulsed, and she could feel every one of the myosin heads pulling against actin strands in them. She tried to get up but the little stones in her ears had come unglued, leaving her giddy.

Stop, she moaned silently. It’s too fast. It’s too much.
“How...we stop?” they whispered back “...but none...is real, you said...”
I was wrong, she cried. There are so many things... She felt her racing heart slow, beads of sweat on her skin.
“...stop?
Stop. Please.
All stop.

Saturday, June 10, 2006

Zipped Supermodel

I'm getting tired of people saying "You're so thin/skinny/little/tiny!" so I made a T-shirt. The caption on the backs of the T-shirts and on the chest of the sweatshirt says "I'm not small. I'm just compressed." On sale now at Cafepress. Just ordered one for myself, so it should be here in a week =D

  • Cap-sleeved shirt (also available in red and brown):

  • Pink T-shirt:

  • Raglan-sleeved sweatshirt (also available in pink and blue):

  • Camisole:

And I have no idea what all the code in the HTML image tags created by Blogger does or why it's arranging them like that =D

Friday, June 09, 2006

Lembaga Letrik Negara

Friend in China for the summer:

I don't miss America so much as I miss it's power grid.

Few days after that:

[10:17] Steve: (speaking of electricity, it went out for a few min today again here in Tianjin)
[10:17] megabigBLUR: oop
[10:17] megabigBLUR: did you still have internet?
[10:17] *** "Steve" signed off at Fri Jun 09 10:17:54 2006.
[10:18] *** "Steve" signed on at Fri Jun 09 10:18:36 2006.
[10:18] Steve: sorry
[10:18] Steve: trillian crashed
[10:18] megabigBLUR: okay, that was kinda funny.
[10:18] Steve: can you please repeat the last thing you said?

Thursday, June 08, 2006

One small step for a nerd

Have migrated blog over to my own site. Bwahaha. I'll try to pull a template together in the next couple of weeks. I have a fairly fleshed-out idea of how it's going to look, and am anticipating a lot of free time at work because everybody in my lab is on leave. =D

Blur Toad #7

Based on a true story ^_^

What is real...

New post lower down the page. Cilakak stupid Blogger. Apparently when you save a draft and then come back, edit and publish it later, it shows up with the date you originally created it.

Monday, June 05, 2006

Creative drought

So I'm lying here
just staring at the ceiling tiles,
and I'm thinking about
oh what to think about.

Just listening and relistening
to Smiley Smile,
and wondering if this is some kind of creative drought
- Barenaked Ladies, "Brian Wilson"

Shit shit shit. All the writing I've done in the last several months has been articles for Phases, a couple for The Star, and the odd diary entry. I really need to get back to narrative writing. Stories are my lifeblood; journalism's not really my thing.

Also have hardly been drawing even though I've got several ideas to work on - comics stuff for EK, paper cutting based on Li Bai's Ye Si, tinkering with graphics tablet.

My brain feels like a jellyfish. (I originally typed "I feel like a mental jellyfish" but that was kinda weird.)

Phases review: the Myst games

Wrote for Phases...will come back and put in hyperlinks to relevant sites later.

I’m partly lost and very fed up. This errand that my old friend Atrus sent me on started with a landing in prison, for one. Huh. A strange man in black killed the guard, let me out, and promptly ran away; I’m grateful but confused. At present, I’m trying to get into a building that looks tantalisingly like Atrus’ father Gehn’s workshop. I can’t figure out how to open the door, and have a sneaking suspicion that I will have to walk all the way back down to the beach to tinker with the boiler that powers everything on this wretched island.

I reach for my notebook. The front part is written up from a trip to China: addresses, numbers, sketch of clubbers at a Beijing café, hastily copied signboards. The back is similar, albeit without words: sketches of symbols and machinery, and pedestrian maps with many scratchings-out and corrections, from Riven. Breadcrumb trails of notes through strange places. Reality intrudes with the realization that even though it’s still a sunny midmorning in Riven, here it’s nearly midnight and I have classes tomorrow.

The Myst games are deeply immersive. They’re the kind you play with the lights off, whose puzzles and images float through your mind on its way to dreamland. My siblings and I used to play computer games as a group – one person at the keyboard, the others excitedly yelling directions. When we played Myst, we felt as if we’d gone on a journey together.

For people used to normal games like side-scrollers or first-person shooters, the Myst series will seem strange at first. On finding that it’s not possible to walk around using arrow keys, one’s reaction tends to be “WTH is this, a game or a slideshow?” However, the beautiful graphics more than make up for the lack of motion (and indeed, are the reason for it, since in the early 1990s when Myst was made, home computers weren’t powerful enough to render that kind of images). And it’s not just pretty pictures, since objects that seem like parts of the scenery or childish toys [insert heavy-handed hint for Riven] often turn out to be clues to puzzles you wish you’d taken notes on.

In keeping with the “God is in the details” (or “the devil is in the details”) nature of the graphical side, sound also plays a huge part in the Myst games. Again, don’t get too used to just clicking through devices, because the sounds can be more than just atmospheric effects...

Even though the time and effort needed to solve puzzles can be maddening, this adds to the experience – you spend so much time just walking around searching for things that you develop a sense of place. One thing that’s a bit annoying about Myst III: Exile is that unlike in Myst and Riven, some of the puzzles seem to be there just for the heck of it rather than being functional parts of the situations.

Each new installment in the series has some additional features. Riven adds a ‘zip mode’ which allows you to take shortcuts to places you’ve already been, instead of laboriously clicking through each slide. In Exile, while you still ‘walk’ through the world by clicking, you can pan around a 360° view of the spot you’re standing in. Revelation adds an in-game diary and camera, although taking notes on paper may still be helpful.

Myst, Riven, and Exile have all been out for quite a while so the CDs are cheaply available on the Internet (I will NOT recommend buying pirated software in a Christian webzine...and anyway the pirated copy of Exile I bought in my foolish youth didn’t work *sheepish*). Myst IV: Revelation and Myst V: End of Ages have free demos out, but if your computer is more than a few years old, it may not be capable of running them. Mine wasn’t until I downloaded the third-party Omega Drivers for my video card.

Sunday, June 04, 2006

Blur Toad #6

Bought my own domain. Feeling very syiok sendiri. Will be migrating my blog over there in a while. In the mean time, Blur Toad #6 for your delectation:



What is real and just a dream?

(yeah baby, I know you're going to read this.)

I am waiting for tonight
then waiting for tomorrow
and i am somewhere in between
what is real
and just a dream
- Lifehouse, "Somewhere in Between"

Chris and EK are deep in one of their interminable discussions while I'm on the other side of the table with a few other girls chatting. JB was here a while ago but left to catch the bus. It's gotten to the point where JT's whipped out her cross-stitch project. She leans across AM and whispers, "I'm sorry, but I just don't like hearing your boyfriend arguing."

Come to that...yet another one of the weird things about our relationship is that I can't stand people who talk a lot.

Look across the table at them - two skinny intense guys wrapped up not only in the thing they're talking about, but the footless dance/swordless duel of a good argument. Me, I've got limited stamina for that sort of thing.

For those people out there who ask why I'm dating this guy, you've gotta ask who's going to put up with a girl who has the temperament of a mad scientist and the attention span of a hyperactive kitten. "There's someone for everyone," an acquaintance of EK's said when told he had a girlfriend...and is that a compliment or an insult?

A while ago, one of the older grad students at church scolded me for dating someone who's very clearly not interested in becoming a Christian (she's since apologized for being harsh and self-righteous, which I'm very glad for since she's otherwise a nice person and I didn't want to hate her). To stem the tide I said "If it makes you feel better, a) my parents know about this, I tell them what's going on in my life, and b) it's only a temporary relationship, since he's going back to New Jersey and I'm going back to Malaysia in August."

She folded her arms and said, "You say it's 'only temporary', so you're using him."

That was a Stephen Maturin moment. It took all my strength to not throw down my cup and walk out of that coffeeshop like Stephen did in Desolation Island where an ill-informed official all but calls Diana a slut to his face. (Haven't yet gotten a hold of the book where Diana dies...I'm rather afraid about what that's going to do to him.)

Afterward I wondered what that had been so particularly unbearable, aside from the obvious slur on my own character. Then I realized that I hate to think that I'm using someone I care about.

And also, perhaps because in the beginning I was 'using' in a way - trying to find friends in a new town, to relieve the boredom of being a grown-up now with a 9-to-5 job, experimenting to see what casual dating was like - but...

"When my parents first asked about you I told them I was dating you just for fun, not for serious."
"Are you dating me just for fun?"
"Not any more...what do you think?"
"I think it's somewhere between for fun and serious."
...and we're wrapped up in each other, and I'm warm.

I'm a taxonomist of emotions; I like to be able to name things, label them so that I have a handle on what goes on in my heart. Otherwise I don't deal well with them - like Seven of Nine emerging from her submersion of identity in the Borg Collective and learning to be human, I'm emerging from the silent time in my mid-teens when I could not speak, could not have friends, didn't understand how people worked. Sometimes I'm not sure how to label things properly.

I love my father and mother and sisters and brothers without qualification. I love most of my extended family to the first degree, some cousins especially. I love my friends, from school and college and Phases. Sure. But I'm shy to say that I love another person in that very specific way that you know people mean when they have to ask.

I've only ever said the words to one other person outside my immediate family (David, "beloved"), and that as it turned out was a mistake. This is not the right place for me. When I realized that my preference to return to Malaysia was taking on the compelling sense of a mission, a vocation, I knew that I couldn't fall in love again with anyone here - not into that emotional bond so intense that its imperishability almost takes on the weight of objective fact.

Let me clarify: This isn't to say "oh I am scarred and shall never love again" in some idiotic melodramatic fashion, but simple pragmatism, that for the sake of whatever hypothetical person's future happiness, and for my own, getting attached, permanently attached here would be a silly idea. The Pacific is a wide ocean to ask someone to cross - in either direction - for just one other person's presence.

It may be, however, that I'm trapping my emotions in a cage of semantics by insisting on so narrow a definiton of eros (in the Lewisian sense; I'm trying to get through this blog entry without using the word romanti - oh buggerit!) is keeping me from saying something I otherwise would.

What is love? The "love is patient, love is kind..." Pauline litany always comes to mind. But I'm impatient. I can be cruel. I...would like to hope that this is not what others see in me, but I see it in myself.

What is love?

"Is there anything you'd be willing to die for? Like freedom of speech or something?"
"If you mean a hundred percent chance of dying, no. A ninety-nine percent chance, maybe. I wouldn't do something if death was absolutely certain. True love is when there's a ninety-nine percent chance."
...okay. I can.

And I know you're going to read this and think, that's only because you believe that your imaginary friend is going to give you an afterlife anyway...but I would. Hey baby.

Thursday, June 01, 2006

Phases: Life on a Disk

Wrote for Phases. 4 days late.

My head hurts and I'm driving myself crazy again. Had a miserable day for no good reason. I hate how I can make myself scared of anything so easily. Fear is the mind-killer. Perfect love casts out fear. Remember those things.


Caution: This story contains links to pictures of cute animals. Advise activation of So-Cute (© Algene Tan) alarm.

I discovered the Creatures series back in 1997. At that time, one of my family’s favourite group activities was window-shopping in computer outlets. I was going through a phase of fascination with artificial life (and Star Trek, but let’s not talk about that) in my mid-teens, and so I liked the idea of a game that let you play with creatures that actually reproduced, foraged, played, and had brains, unlike the abhorrent Tamagotchis then popular. They could even talk to each other! Much to my disappointment, my family’s computer could only run it at snail’s pace.

Computing power was what really allowed the explosion of artificial life as a field of study – creatures created as software objects, following rules that while simple, could produce surprisingly life-like behaviours. However, people were experimenting with it even before that, such as John Conway, the inventor of the aptly named Game of Life in 1970. He and his students “ran” it on big sheets of graph paper with board game pieces. The rules were as follows:

  • if a cell was surrounded by less than two other cells, it would die from exposure.
  • if a cell was surrounded by more than three other cells, it would die from overcrowding.
  • if an empty square was surrounded by exactly three other cells, it would become a cell.

You can try it for yourself here, or if you’d rather do it the original way, any Reversi or checkers board will do. (Hint: nice way to waste time during maths.)

From these few rules emerged populations that grew, crawled around like amoebae on a glass slide, and then – but not always - died. Sometimes oscillating shapes formed that would cycle through the same pattern over and over again. One of the stranger shapes that emerged was a glider, an arrangement of five cells that after a period of four time-steps, would reorganize in the same shape – but having moved across the board. Over time, Life fans made discoveries about the world of Life and clever patterns, including this “humongous” spaceship.

Around that time other people began playing around with computers to see if they could write instructions for the computer that would be like the instructions that nature lays down for the growth of plants. A living plant decides the angle of its stem, where it puts out branches, the shape of its leaves and so forth by hormones activating parts of its DNA saying things like, “We’ve got a bud here giving off hormone X, so don’t start another bud so close, start further down.” So again, a living thing that exists in a certain state which changes over time according to rules. Imagine a system where the letter a is replaced with ab, and b is replaced with a. Start with a seed b:
b
a
ab
aba
abaab
abaababa
abaababaabaab

Now, imagine that instead of letters, each a was a stem and each b was a branch. Here’s an example. One of the best-known ways of doing this was with L-systems, which operated in a way similar to the above example. Not only did this generate very pretty pictures, it also showed another way in which life could be simulated on a computer – not the mad scramble of microbes, but the meditative unfolding of leaves to the sun.

As computers got more powerful, the simulations that could be made became more complex. After cellular automata like Life came programs that tried to reconstruct the behavior of actual animals moving about in real time such as ants, fish, and birds. Craig Reynolds’s Boids are an example. Each Boid tries to maintain a certain distance from its neighbours while keeping close to the flock and going in the same direction, as real birds tend to do. The result is a flock that swoops around obstacles as smoothly as seagulls. Similar principles began to be used in the 1990s to animate large swarms of moving objects, such as the wildebeest stampede in The Lion King.

This brings our history of a-life up to my old love, Creatures. My family’s old computer could just barely run it, albeit at a snail’s pace, so I dropped it impatiently until I had my own laptop in college and bought Creatures 3. One of the reasons for this game’s popularity is that it can be played on two levels – either as a cute virtual pet game, or as a tool for experimenting with both artificial life (through the smaller animals in the game, which can be edited in the game’s CAOS language) and artificial intelligence. The behaviour of the Creatures isn’t controlled from the top down by rules – it’s determined from the bottom up by their brains, each of which has several hundred neurons which fire according to inputs from each other and the environment. (Multiply this by several Creatures, add a couple hundred small animals and machines, and keep in mind that the game world takes place in real time, and you’ll see why it doesn’t run well on a 386.) You can download Docking Station for free, which is a fully functional mini-world using the same engine as C3.

This sort of thing – the general population getting access and gaining interest in tools that mathematicians, computer scientists, ecologists, botanists, and neuroscientists have been playing with for the last few decades, is going to become more popular as biology takes over as the dominant science in the public eye, what with bird flu and stem cells and genetic engineering in the news all the time. The next game I’m hoping to be able to dive into as demiurge is Will Wright’s Spore (caution, Flash-heavy site). Wright was the man behind Sim City and a lot of the other Sim games, too. Soon he’ll be coming out with a game where you, the player, can guide the evolution of a

I’ve learned something from playing Creatures – if you’re truly interested in something, you have to give it the freedom to grow and learn on its own rather than manipulating it into what you want it to be. Even if this means listening to a Creature complain it’s hungry for five minutes with a pile of carrots on the other side of the screen. Otherwise you might as well be feeding a Tamagotchi and picking up its poo.

A-life and other simulation games, like the abovementioned Sim City, are different from others where there’s a concrete goal, like a mission objective or a score. You play not as an actor, but as a creator. You experience joy when your creatures are eating well and reproducing; frustrations when they don’t follow your plans, to the point of being suicidally stupid; despair when you realize something is unexpectedly wrong and a disaster is going to befall those little sprites on the screen. It’s upsetting, even though they’re not real and you could kill them all with a couple of mouse clicks if you liked. As with all games, there’s an emotional investment in the game, but with this kind it’s deeper, because the characters are both under your control and out of your hands. There’s an affection for them; if you play enough, maybe even a love.