I bought the book the day it came out on Dhaka, July 16th (from what I remember, Rowling wanted to release it on the day of the summer solstice, but also at midnight. So that ended up being July 16th in Dhaka). It was a hartal, so believe it or not, there was practically no one else at the bookstore compared to the crowd I'd been expecting. It cost Tk. 1,475 in anyone was wondering.
I started reading it immediately after getting home. I had to stop to do stuff like packing and meeting family, because it was the last day of my holiday in Dhaka, and I was flying the next morning. But I read whenever I could, and into the night. Around 2 am, I finished. It was well worth it.
When I started reading it, something felt wrong near the beginning. But I couldn't put a finger on it. Yesterday I realised that it was that in the second chapter, Rowling tells the story located somewhere far away from Harry -- and we the readers see something that Harry doesn't, something she's never done before. Think about it. Every device that Rowling has ever introduced to show something that happens far away from Harry or far before Harry's time -- Harry's connection to Voldemort's mind, the `memory dishes', the Dementors' awakening of long-dormant memories in Harry's mind, the journal of Tom Riddle, among others -- let Harry see and hear what's going on, as well as us.
So for the first time ever, the story shifts away from Harry and onto Snape. What does this mean? I have no idea.
Then, throughout the book, Harry has this growing paranoia and obsession with Malfoy. They've always been enemies, but before this book, Harry never attached such an urgency to finding out what Malfoy was doing. And his intuition proved right in the end. But the irony is that Dumbledore was willing to put his own life on the line to turn Malfoy from his father's and Voldemort's side, and wouldn't lift a finger to stop him.
Reading the book, you get the feeling that Rowling has got the whole of these characters wrapped around her brain, so easily do their interactions come together. But also, Harry getting together with Ginny felt pretty forced to me. They had some little interaction before, nothing that came before had hinted at the `little monster' of jealous love in Harry for Ginny. With Ron and Hermione, for example, you knew it was coming from book 4 -- the Krum stuff. That was extended here into the kind of interaction I'd always imagined they'd have before they got together.
The climax of the book -- between Harry, Draco, Dumbledore and Snape -- also felt like the most natural possible buildup to the big finish. I couldn't have asked for anything better.
Snape's escape, and Harry's failure to prevent him, showed just how much Harry trails the older wizards in actual power levels, and just how lucky he's been upto now fighting the Death Eaters. I could feel Harry's frustration as Snape turned aside every single spell Harry threw at him, but left Harry unharmed, a prize the Dark Lord would claim for himself.
And the situation that the last chapter sets up -- it's beyond anything that has ever happened in Harry's world. Suddenly it's become a much bigger and scarier place, and no more shielding, no more Dumbledore, Sirius or even Snape to take some of the heat off Harry. The only protector-figure left for Harry now is Hagrid, which is kind of fitting -- there's a connection between them. But you have to wonder if Hagrid's days are numbered too.
But I digress. Everything is torn away from Harry -- Hogwarts forgotten, training to be an Auror put on the backburner, and friends, except for perhaps only Ron and Hermione, left behind. He finally has a quest, but it's a huge one -- a whopper which I'm not sure how Rowling is going to fit it into a single book 7, unless much of the work has already been done for Harry. We can only hope.
But whether or not that's true, it's been driven like a nail into Harry's head that he has to, to the exclusion of everything else, kill Voldemort. Nice and chilling.
Jul 29, 2005
Jul 14, 2005
Holidays end
I go back to Malaysia on the 17th, after a nice and relaxing vacation in which I've done everything the way I wanted to, but haven't done everything I've wanted to. Oh well, maybe next time.
But now, it's almost over, and that sucks. I've been watching movies, reading comics, downloading music and videos, and everything else without any regard to the time or how much sleep I get in the day. The only thing that I've seemed to lack is time -- it just flew by. I've stayed awake for 24 hours straight or more trying to do everything I wanted to do and still I was forced to go to bed, unsatisfied, at dawn. Only to wake up in the afternoon tired and bleary-eyed.
I have made sacrifices, e.g. my eyes. They're teary and bleary and a little bit red all the time, and oh so itchy. So itchy that I can get an almost orgasmic satisfaction by just rubbing them with the backs of my hands. Instead I force myself to pull at the skin around them a bit to satisfy the itch -- for a little while. If I rub my eyes my hands come away wet with a foul-smelling fluid that presumably comes from the backs of my eyeballs.
Today my semester results came out and I've done tolerably in all four of my core units -- haven't failed anything like I feared at times. Was a little surprised to see that I did best in the management unit -- a Distinction -- but then I guess it must be because of the second assignment; I worked hard on that one. The worst grade, a Pass, was in microeconomics. Guess I shouldn't be surprised, because no matter how much I like economics, I've always sucked at it.
But now, it's almost over, and that sucks. I've been watching movies, reading comics, downloading music and videos, and everything else without any regard to the time or how much sleep I get in the day. The only thing that I've seemed to lack is time -- it just flew by. I've stayed awake for 24 hours straight or more trying to do everything I wanted to do and still I was forced to go to bed, unsatisfied, at dawn. Only to wake up in the afternoon tired and bleary-eyed.
I have made sacrifices, e.g. my eyes. They're teary and bleary and a little bit red all the time, and oh so itchy. So itchy that I can get an almost orgasmic satisfaction by just rubbing them with the backs of my hands. Instead I force myself to pull at the skin around them a bit to satisfy the itch -- for a little while. If I rub my eyes my hands come away wet with a foul-smelling fluid that presumably comes from the backs of my eyeballs.
Today my semester results came out and I've done tolerably in all four of my core units -- haven't failed anything like I feared at times. Was a little surprised to see that I did best in the management unit -- a Distinction -- but then I guess it must be because of the second assignment; I worked hard on that one. The worst grade, a Pass, was in microeconomics. Guess I shouldn't be surprised, because no matter how much I like economics, I've always sucked at it.
Jun 27, 2005
Microsoft Office
Following my success at installing Internet Explorer and MSN Messenger on my Linux laptop, I realised I might as well install Microsoft Office and make a clean job of fizzling out my open source utopia. So I did it, yesterday. I installed Office 2000, the latest version that was known, as far as I knew, to work with Wine.
The installation did error out at first, but a quick check of a couple of Wine websites told me the answer to that problem. So I managed to complete the install -- Word, Excel and PowerPoint, possibly the three most used desktop applications in the Monash computer labs. Well, Visual Studio/Visual C++ is up there, but still.
Anyway, after I installed everything and made sure it worked -- and it does, more or less -- I started wondering how far Wine has come at running Office XP. So I did some Googling and wouldn't you know it, Office XP now works with Wine -- again, more or less. Damn. Still, at least Office 2K has all the features I really need in Word and Excel -- tables within tables, and PivotCharts.
Using Word and Excel, even stripped of all their Windows XP eye-candy freshness, I quickly appreciate just how good the user interface is. How well everything has been put together and just gets out of your way, compared to something like OpenOffice.org. Take, for example, the pull-down menus of their word processors. Word's menus are of a reasonable size; they don't stretch down almost to the bottom of the screen. In OpenOffice.org Writer, they do.
Note: I'm not dissing OpenOffice.org here. I really, really like some of its features, and if I could help it, I'd use it over MS Office any day. Features like the true integration -- it's really one program that changes its menus, toolbars, etc. depending on what type of document you're viewing; Stylist and Navigator panes which quickly let you manipulate and apply all kinds of styles, and move around documents quickly; the built-in PDF export; the Python programmability (I've written a very useful little word count tool for Writer in Python -- remind me to talk about it some other time); and of course, the fact that it's free and open source, works pretty much flawlessly with MS Office documents, and runs on the Big Three operating systems of today -- Windows, Unix and Mac OS X.
But where does that leave me with MS Office? The truth is I need Excel to conveniently do data analysis in my statistics units, and Word as a last resort to open files I might come across.
The installation did error out at first, but a quick check of a couple of Wine websites told me the answer to that problem. So I managed to complete the install -- Word, Excel and PowerPoint, possibly the three most used desktop applications in the Monash computer labs. Well, Visual Studio/Visual C++ is up there, but still.
Anyway, after I installed everything and made sure it worked -- and it does, more or less -- I started wondering how far Wine has come at running Office XP. So I did some Googling and wouldn't you know it, Office XP now works with Wine -- again, more or less. Damn. Still, at least Office 2K has all the features I really need in Word and Excel -- tables within tables, and PivotCharts.
Using Word and Excel, even stripped of all their Windows XP eye-candy freshness, I quickly appreciate just how good the user interface is. How well everything has been put together and just gets out of your way, compared to something like OpenOffice.org. Take, for example, the pull-down menus of their word processors. Word's menus are of a reasonable size; they don't stretch down almost to the bottom of the screen. In OpenOffice.org Writer, they do.
Note: I'm not dissing OpenOffice.org here. I really, really like some of its features, and if I could help it, I'd use it over MS Office any day. Features like the true integration -- it's really one program that changes its menus, toolbars, etc. depending on what type of document you're viewing; Stylist and Navigator panes which quickly let you manipulate and apply all kinds of styles, and move around documents quickly; the built-in PDF export; the Python programmability (I've written a very useful little word count tool for Writer in Python -- remind me to talk about it some other time); and of course, the fact that it's free and open source, works pretty much flawlessly with MS Office documents, and runs on the Big Three operating systems of today -- Windows, Unix and Mac OS X.
But where does that leave me with MS Office? The truth is I need Excel to conveniently do data analysis in my statistics units, and Word as a last resort to open files I might come across.
May 16, 2005
Updating a page in a browser
Say you know that a web page has recently been changed, but no matter how many times you click Refresh/Reload, the new version just refuses to come up. What do you do? Hold down Shift, then click. This will force the browser to go out and download the page again, instead of lazily telling you it has the latest version.
May 13, 2005
Quick update on Internet Explorer and Wine
Well, turns out I didn’t need Internet Explorer 5 at all. The reason the IE6 installer I downloaded from Microsoft was not working with Wine was that I had the latest Wine version installed, and it had a bug which prevented IE6’s installer from working. I downloaded and installed a slightly older version of Wine (20041019), and voila, Internet Explorer 6 SP1 was installed (I’m running it now).
I then managed to go to the MSN Messenger website and let IE install Messenger 7 for (which I’m also running now). So now, instead of having to use the E-Messenger website all the time, I can sign in with the Real Deal(TM). Yessss.
Details? Feeling lazy now, maybe I’ll post them later.
I then managed to go to the MSN Messenger website and let IE install Messenger 7 for (which I’m also running now). So now, instead of having to use the E-Messenger website all the time, I can sign in with the Real Deal(TM). Yessss.
Details? Feeling lazy now, maybe I’ll post them later.
May 12, 2005
Various
The Darth Side
Ever wonder what thoughts swirled around in the evil Darth Vader’s head during the events of Star Wars 4–6? Well, here’s your chance to find out – this blog is the personal narrative of the Dark Lord himself! ‘The Darth Side: Memoirs of a Monster’, http://darthside.blogspot.com/. The classic post to read: ‘Does It Hurt When I Go Like This?’
Bruce Schneier
Check out ‘Schneier on Security’, http://www.schneier.com/blog/. He writes about an always-interesting topic, security, which inevitably leads to many diverse and interesting discussions with his readers on his blog – nowadays probably more about politics than about anything else. But it’s always an interesting take on the topic.
Internet Explorer on Linux
It’s ironic that I, a Firefox freak, am searching for a download of Internet Explorer 5. But it’s true. I am trying to install IE5, as insane as that sounds. And what’s more, I’m not trying to do it on my Windows machine, because I have none. I’m trying to do it on my Linux box, to get MSN Messenger to work on Linux.
For those of you not familiar with Linux, this is quite a trick, because it requires a lot of special tinkering before you can run common Windows programs like Internet Explorer and MSN Messenger. Things are going at snail’s pace now because I can’t find a download of IE5 anywhere on the ’net. Guess I’ll just have to keep searching.
Uni
University life never lets up. First there was the Monash Cultural Night, and that was so hectic it made us, the organisers, not so eager to see each other again for a while. Ironic.
Then there are all these damned assignments that have you on a choke-hold. They keep coming, one after the other. You keep putting them off, claiming to do ‘research’ and ‘I’ll start them real soon.’ But then a couple of days before the due date, you start doing the research and writing, and voila! Instant assignment. Meanwhile your brain and eyes are stir-fried.
On the up side, though, the assignments’ marks make up the total marks for each unit, so all the pressure is not put on the exam results.
Star Wars Movie and ...
I am so looking forward to the 19th. Episode 3 comes out, and all assignments for the semester are finally done and over with. Ah, the closure. Of course, that just means the exams are coming up in an all-too-few number of days, but that also means so is my summer vac. Ah, the mixed emotions.
Ever wonder what thoughts swirled around in the evil Darth Vader’s head during the events of Star Wars 4–6? Well, here’s your chance to find out – this blog is the personal narrative of the Dark Lord himself! ‘The Darth Side: Memoirs of a Monster’, http://darthside.blogspot.com/. The classic post to read: ‘Does It Hurt When I Go Like This?’
Bruce Schneier
Check out ‘Schneier on Security’, http://www.schneier.com/blog/. He writes about an always-interesting topic, security, which inevitably leads to many diverse and interesting discussions with his readers on his blog – nowadays probably more about politics than about anything else. But it’s always an interesting take on the topic.
Internet Explorer on Linux
It’s ironic that I, a Firefox freak, am searching for a download of Internet Explorer 5. But it’s true. I am trying to install IE5, as insane as that sounds. And what’s more, I’m not trying to do it on my Windows machine, because I have none. I’m trying to do it on my Linux box, to get MSN Messenger to work on Linux.
For those of you not familiar with Linux, this is quite a trick, because it requires a lot of special tinkering before you can run common Windows programs like Internet Explorer and MSN Messenger. Things are going at snail’s pace now because I can’t find a download of IE5 anywhere on the ’net. Guess I’ll just have to keep searching.
Uni
University life never lets up. First there was the Monash Cultural Night, and that was so hectic it made us, the organisers, not so eager to see each other again for a while. Ironic.
Then there are all these damned assignments that have you on a choke-hold. They keep coming, one after the other. You keep putting them off, claiming to do ‘research’ and ‘I’ll start them real soon.’ But then a couple of days before the due date, you start doing the research and writing, and voila! Instant assignment. Meanwhile your brain and eyes are stir-fried.
On the up side, though, the assignments’ marks make up the total marks for each unit, so all the pressure is not put on the exam results.
Star Wars Movie and ...
I am so looking forward to the 19th. Episode 3 comes out, and all assignments for the semester are finally done and over with. Ah, the closure. Of course, that just means the exams are coming up in an all-too-few number of days, but that also means so is my summer vac. Ah, the mixed emotions.
Apr 5, 2005
Another (ir)religion post
Yesterday night I had the usual `discussion' with another guy about religion. He's a Muslim, and a pretty dogmatic one at that. `Discussing' the basic concepts of religion with someone like that gets very old, very fast. For example, yesterday, he was of the opinion that I'm something really bad is going to happen to me, and I'm on the `wrong path' because I don't have any religion. Here's a basic idea of the exchange that followed:
--
Him: Man, I'm telling you, you should start believing, because see, if you keep on going this way, sooner or later something really bad is going to happen to you.
Me: Maybe. But if does, then don't you think that's unfair? If someone came up to you and told you, `If you don't do what this book here says, you're going to be punished....', wouldn't that make you angry?
Him: You can't question these things....
.
.
.
Me: But why am I on the wrong path?
Him: Because you don't follow the Holy Book.
Me: But why is following the Holy Book the right path? You've been told that it is, by other people. But how do you know that's it so?
Him: You shouldn't question these things.
Me: OK man, if I can't question your beliefs, then let's make it fair and say that you can't question mine.
Him: That's fine with me, even though you're on the wrong path and will burn in hell forever....
Me: I think we had a deal...?
Him: Yeah, I'm just saying, because you really are going to get hurt really badly some time if you don't start believing.
.
.
.
Him: Man, if you don't believe, you're going to burn in hell forever, even if you never do anything bad in your life. Even [somebody] who has drunk and committed murder and adultery and everything will get into heaven if they ask for forgiveness right before they die. (Slightly hysterically) You'll burn in hell forever!
Me: But what if I live my life as an atheist ask for forgiveness right before I die?
Him: ...
--
And then there was another thing that we touched upon: the Quran. Obviously Muslims believe that it comes straight from God, and yesterday I was trying, very subtly, to show this guy, and a friend of his, how maybe Muhammad and the Arabs of that time could have written it.
--
Them: The Quran had to come from God, because how else could it contain all the stories of the prophets like Musa (Moses), Isa (Jesus), Ibrahim (Abraham) ... in such great detail?
Me: Maybe the Arabs of that time knew of those stories from the old books, like the old and new Testaments, the Torah, etc....
Them: But the Arabs of that time couldn't read!
Me: But they could have heard the stories from someone or the other. You have to agree that at that time Makkah was a big trading city, and all kinds of people -- Christians, Jews -- traded there?
Them: Yeah....
Me: Then they could have brought the Bible and the Torah along with them, and told the Makkans and other Arabs the old stories.
--
But that did get me thinking. Suppose that there is a God, and He wants to test us while we live on earth. Suppose He has given us free will and wants us to use it to make our condition better, to live on earth with dignity and respect for one another. Maybe the real test is to see whether we can discipline ourselves even without the carrot and stick of eternal reward/punishment.
To make things more interesting, and harder for us, He has given us lots of holy books with lots of instructions and admonitions, thereby killing two birds with one stone. A beautiful masterstroke: the books contain the moral codes and authority to set mankind on a moral path, but also enough threats and contradictions to confuse and scare us. A test to see if we can overcome the confusion and the fear of being by ourselves to get to the next level, whatever that is.
Look that the history of religion in our world through this theory: everything is perfectly balanced. The feeling of fellowship and happiness from following a higher moral power, together; and the bloodshed and strife caused by conflicting beliefs. The holy books and beliefs give us just the right amount of guidance, while at the same time literally putting the fear of God in us, and the seeds of our own confusion and misery.
--
Him: Man, I'm telling you, you should start believing, because see, if you keep on going this way, sooner or later something really bad is going to happen to you.
Me: Maybe. But if does, then don't you think that's unfair? If someone came up to you and told you, `If you don't do what this book here says, you're going to be punished....', wouldn't that make you angry?
Him: You can't question these things....
.
.
.
Me: But why am I on the wrong path?
Him: Because you don't follow the Holy Book.
Me: But why is following the Holy Book the right path? You've been told that it is, by other people. But how do you know that's it so?
Him: You shouldn't question these things.
Me: OK man, if I can't question your beliefs, then let's make it fair and say that you can't question mine.
Him: That's fine with me, even though you're on the wrong path and will burn in hell forever....
Me: I think we had a deal...?
Him: Yeah, I'm just saying, because you really are going to get hurt really badly some time if you don't start believing.
.
.
.
Him: Man, if you don't believe, you're going to burn in hell forever, even if you never do anything bad in your life. Even [somebody] who has drunk and committed murder and adultery and everything will get into heaven if they ask for forgiveness right before they die. (Slightly hysterically) You'll burn in hell forever!
Me: But what if I live my life as an atheist ask for forgiveness right before I die?
Him: ...
--
And then there was another thing that we touched upon: the Quran. Obviously Muslims believe that it comes straight from God, and yesterday I was trying, very subtly, to show this guy, and a friend of his, how maybe Muhammad and the Arabs of that time could have written it.
--
Them: The Quran had to come from God, because how else could it contain all the stories of the prophets like Musa (Moses), Isa (Jesus), Ibrahim (Abraham) ... in such great detail?
Me: Maybe the Arabs of that time knew of those stories from the old books, like the old and new Testaments, the Torah, etc....
Them: But the Arabs of that time couldn't read!
Me: But they could have heard the stories from someone or the other. You have to agree that at that time Makkah was a big trading city, and all kinds of people -- Christians, Jews -- traded there?
Them: Yeah....
Me: Then they could have brought the Bible and the Torah along with them, and told the Makkans and other Arabs the old stories.
--
But that did get me thinking. Suppose that there is a God, and He wants to test us while we live on earth. Suppose He has given us free will and wants us to use it to make our condition better, to live on earth with dignity and respect for one another. Maybe the real test is to see whether we can discipline ourselves even without the carrot and stick of eternal reward/punishment.
To make things more interesting, and harder for us, He has given us lots of holy books with lots of instructions and admonitions, thereby killing two birds with one stone. A beautiful masterstroke: the books contain the moral codes and authority to set mankind on a moral path, but also enough threats and contradictions to confuse and scare us. A test to see if we can overcome the confusion and the fear of being by ourselves to get to the next level, whatever that is.
Look that the history of religion in our world through this theory: everything is perfectly balanced. The feeling of fellowship and happiness from following a higher moral power, together; and the bloodshed and strife caused by conflicting beliefs. The holy books and beliefs give us just the right amount of guidance, while at the same time literally putting the fear of God in us, and the seeds of our own confusion and misery.
Feb 24, 2005
`Jonathan Strange & Mr Norrell'
Just a few days before flying to Malaysia I bought and read, in three days, Susanna Clarke’s 800-page debut novel, Jonathan Strange & Mr Norrell (see Amazon.com). Where to begin? Well, let me start with the back cover blurb. Basically it talks about the two magicians who appear in England to revive English magic. It talks about Mr Norrell as a reclusive scholar-type with an aversion to hazardous forms of magic. And of Jonathan Strange as a wild magician almost on the brink, one who is ready to try anything to gain fame and power.
It couldn’t be more wrong.
WARNING: SPOILER
‘Two magicians will appear in England. One will fear me. The other will long to behold me.’ – prophecy by the Raven King, from back cover
Only someone who has read the book can understand how much the characters have been misinterpreted by the marketers. In the book, Mr Norrell has an aversion to any type of publicity and a dislike for any magic he didn’t personally sanction. Clarke writes of him destroying would-be magicians by forbidding them from performing magic, and censoring any writings on magic – even going as far as to magically vanish books of magic right out of people’s homes to keep the public from reading them.
Strange on the other hand is presented as a very likeable character, a gentleman to the bone. Here’s something I roughly remember from the book:
‘Wellington asked Strange, “Could a magician kill people with magic?”
‘Strange frowned. “I suppose a magician could. But a gentleman never would.” ’
Strange is blessed with an unparalleled talent for magic. He discovers magic as a profession quite by accident (seemingly). Unbelieving, he goes with the flow and discovers that things happen at his command that have not happened for hundreds of years. He comes into contact with, and works with, Norrell. Yet the world he enters is unexplored and disquieting, unlike Norrell’s world of ‘safe English magic’. Strange has premonitions of things going on that are just beyond his level of awareness.
Things continue. Both magicians grow in power and renown, Strange more so than Norrell, because of his willingness to aid his country’s war machine abroad. He practices magic on very large scales – rearranging the Spanish countryside.
After the war his wife dies in very mysterious and troubling circumstances. He is a broken man, although he tries not to show it very much. All he has left is magic. And the magic is growing stronger within him every day, as he immerses himself within it. He picks up more strange vibes, premonitions, insights. He goes to Venice and finds it, too, steeped in magic. In Venice Clarke describes one of the most memorable scenes I’ve ever read in a book. It involves trees, lots of trees. Read the book!
Strange discovers that his wife is not dead, but has been enchanted away by a suave, fun-loving and cruel fairy. After this, he throws all caution to the wind and distills all the knowledge he has gained in his years as a magician into a way to access the fairy country, Faerie. He uses madness, his own madness, as a tool to contact ‘the gentleman’, as the fairy is called. So desperate, and yet hanging on by a thread, he manages to save his wife, and at the same time, with Norrell’s help, revive English magic – as part of a spell worked long ago by the Raven King himself.
In the end, the eye of the beholder beholds the eye of the beheld. But you have to read the book to understand this!
He doesn’t emerge unscathed – the conflict leaves him literally in eternal night, which he and Norrell carry with them wherever they go. Clarke ends the book on an open note, as if indicating more adventures (and hopefully more books) to come.
One recurring theme I noticed in the book was the English’s unwillingness to accept magical causes for something, even though they know that magic is possible and even likely with Strange and Norrell having opened the doors to it. Strange himself is guilty of this before his wife dies. I think her death teaches him a lesson – if anything that could be explained at all by magic, it probably is magic. Cruel way to learn, and cruel lesson, but this is not an innocent book.
It couldn’t be more wrong.
WARNING: SPOILER
‘Two magicians will appear in England. One will fear me. The other will long to behold me.’ – prophecy by the Raven King, from back cover
Only someone who has read the book can understand how much the characters have been misinterpreted by the marketers. In the book, Mr Norrell has an aversion to any type of publicity and a dislike for any magic he didn’t personally sanction. Clarke writes of him destroying would-be magicians by forbidding them from performing magic, and censoring any writings on magic – even going as far as to magically vanish books of magic right out of people’s homes to keep the public from reading them.
Strange on the other hand is presented as a very likeable character, a gentleman to the bone. Here’s something I roughly remember from the book:
‘Wellington asked Strange, “Could a magician kill people with magic?”
‘Strange frowned. “I suppose a magician could. But a gentleman never would.” ’
Strange is blessed with an unparalleled talent for magic. He discovers magic as a profession quite by accident (seemingly). Unbelieving, he goes with the flow and discovers that things happen at his command that have not happened for hundreds of years. He comes into contact with, and works with, Norrell. Yet the world he enters is unexplored and disquieting, unlike Norrell’s world of ‘safe English magic’. Strange has premonitions of things going on that are just beyond his level of awareness.
Things continue. Both magicians grow in power and renown, Strange more so than Norrell, because of his willingness to aid his country’s war machine abroad. He practices magic on very large scales – rearranging the Spanish countryside.
After the war his wife dies in very mysterious and troubling circumstances. He is a broken man, although he tries not to show it very much. All he has left is magic. And the magic is growing stronger within him every day, as he immerses himself within it. He picks up more strange vibes, premonitions, insights. He goes to Venice and finds it, too, steeped in magic. In Venice Clarke describes one of the most memorable scenes I’ve ever read in a book. It involves trees, lots of trees. Read the book!
Strange discovers that his wife is not dead, but has been enchanted away by a suave, fun-loving and cruel fairy. After this, he throws all caution to the wind and distills all the knowledge he has gained in his years as a magician into a way to access the fairy country, Faerie. He uses madness, his own madness, as a tool to contact ‘the gentleman’, as the fairy is called. So desperate, and yet hanging on by a thread, he manages to save his wife, and at the same time, with Norrell’s help, revive English magic – as part of a spell worked long ago by the Raven King himself.
In the end, the eye of the beholder beholds the eye of the beheld. But you have to read the book to understand this!
He doesn’t emerge unscathed – the conflict leaves him literally in eternal night, which he and Norrell carry with them wherever they go. Clarke ends the book on an open note, as if indicating more adventures (and hopefully more books) to come.
One recurring theme I noticed in the book was the English’s unwillingness to accept magical causes for something, even though they know that magic is possible and even likely with Strange and Norrell having opened the doors to it. Strange himself is guilty of this before his wife dies. I think her death teaches him a lesson – if anything that could be explained at all by magic, it probably is magic. Cruel way to learn, and cruel lesson, but this is not an innocent book.
Feb 9, 2005
University, and some books
AFTER a long time of hither and thither, I've finally bought the ticket. I am definitely going to Malaysia to study in Monash University. The student pass they have sent me will see me through Dhaka's airport and on to Kuala Lumpur, where I will be given a visa.
I've finished, within the last few days, Jean P. Sasson's Princess and Daughters of Arabia. The former was excellent. I found the book, of all places, in my grandfather's bookshelf. I've known of it for a long time, but for some reason or the other always passed over it, looking for interesting books. But....
I really like learning about things which have always been shrouded in mystery, and the book felt like a frank confession of Saudi royal life behind the veil. `Sultana' and Sasson's voices both felt sincere, and I identified with the princess. I have very strong and conflicting ideas about freedom and laissez-faire and non-violence and the fair treatment of minorities -- among other things. I love to see them echoed in other people.
Daughters was not as original -- and understandably so. Still highly readable, though. I'll never tire of Sultana's opinions and thoughts, partly because they're so much my own. I'm waiting for my brother to buy the next in the series, Desert Royal. (I'm currently broke -- in Bangladesh taka, anyway.) Then again, I'll probably be in Malaysia by the time he gets around to it.
I'm currently reading The Da Vinci Code. Another excellent book. Symbology; hidden meanings in famous artworks; secret societies; radical theories about Christianity -- it's all there and it's exactly my kind of brainy thriller. I can't wait to finish it, but am loath to at the same time -- because a book like this is hard to find.
Reading the book, I couldn't help comparing it to another radical book I've read recently -- Anne Rice's Memnoch the Devil. That book was about the vampire Lestat's quest for redemption, but also about the struggle between God and the Devil, apparently called Memnoch by himself and Satan (among other names) by everyone else. In it, Memnoch explained to Lestat an alternate, and shocking, view of creation and mankind and Christianity's history.The parts all fit cleverly, and the wheel turns. It left me genuinely frightened (not from the religious repercussions -- I'm secular -- but from the general atmosphere created in the book. Yes, it was that good).
Another thing which I've been exploring is a certain similarity of themes between the Princess books and The Da Vinci Code. In the former, Sultana has the feeling that many problems in the world are caused by male domination over women, which is unnatural. In the latter, much is made of the natural duality and equality of man and woman, and the subversion of that natural order in the modern world, and the resulting pain and misery. Almost uncanny.
I've finished, within the last few days, Jean P. Sasson's Princess and Daughters of Arabia. The former was excellent. I found the book, of all places, in my grandfather's bookshelf. I've known of it for a long time, but for some reason or the other always passed over it, looking for interesting books. But....
I really like learning about things which have always been shrouded in mystery, and the book felt like a frank confession of Saudi royal life behind the veil. `Sultana' and Sasson's voices both felt sincere, and I identified with the princess. I have very strong and conflicting ideas about freedom and laissez-faire and non-violence and the fair treatment of minorities -- among other things. I love to see them echoed in other people.
Daughters was not as original -- and understandably so. Still highly readable, though. I'll never tire of Sultana's opinions and thoughts, partly because they're so much my own. I'm waiting for my brother to buy the next in the series, Desert Royal. (I'm currently broke -- in Bangladesh taka, anyway.) Then again, I'll probably be in Malaysia by the time he gets around to it.
I'm currently reading The Da Vinci Code. Another excellent book. Symbology; hidden meanings in famous artworks; secret societies; radical theories about Christianity -- it's all there and it's exactly my kind of brainy thriller. I can't wait to finish it, but am loath to at the same time -- because a book like this is hard to find.
Reading the book, I couldn't help comparing it to another radical book I've read recently -- Anne Rice's Memnoch the Devil. That book was about the vampire Lestat's quest for redemption, but also about the struggle between God and the Devil, apparently called Memnoch by himself and Satan (among other names) by everyone else. In it, Memnoch explained to Lestat an alternate, and shocking, view of creation and mankind and Christianity's history.The parts all fit cleverly, and the wheel turns. It left me genuinely frightened (not from the religious repercussions -- I'm secular -- but from the general atmosphere created in the book. Yes, it was that good).
Another thing which I've been exploring is a certain similarity of themes between the Princess books and The Da Vinci Code. In the former, Sultana has the feeling that many problems in the world are caused by male domination over women, which is unnatural. In the latter, much is made of the natural duality and equality of man and woman, and the subversion of that natural order in the modern world, and the resulting pain and misery. Almost uncanny.
Jan 1, 2005
For those who died: we came from the ocean, and we will go back to it
`'Tis double death to drown in sight of shore.'
--
Shakespeare
THE mind boggles at the amount of death and suffering. The sheer scale of the disaster is unthinkable. The damage will take decades to repair. The blow will lay low the economies of the region and send it into an interrugnum of darkness and despair.
This is what floats through my mind right now, watching and reading about ten thousand new deaths with every new day and the rising difficulties facing the relief workers. Suddenly the Iraq insurgency, terrorist threats and Middle Eastern oil cartels seem like such distant concerns. Something has hit us here in Asia, and this something that could destroy this region and turn it into a hellpit of misery.
I look at satellite imagery of Indonesia before and after the tsunami and try to imagine what would happen if something like that hit here in Bangladesh. I can't; it's too hard.
I once read a Jungle Book story where Mowgli has the elephants of the jungle destroy his native village, which cast him out as a demon child and would have burnt his parents as witches. He said, `Let in the jungle, Hathi!' In the satellite pictures it looks like someone cried `Let in the sea!' and it was so. In the Jungle Books, there was nothing older or more powerful than the Law of the Jungle. Now it seems to me there is something older and more powerful: the Law of the Ocean.
And yet in the news they're always talking about what the UN is saying, what countries are forming coalitions, sending each other aid; the rich giving to the poor, and the poor sharing amongst themselves. Volunteers helping stranded tourists find their lost ones. All countries coming together in symphony and no jarring notes, no dissension. It's so amazing, so incredible to see this -- the countries acting as if they are part of one big nation, one nation-planet, governed by the common Law of Humanity.
Which is the stronger law? No doubt about it, the Law of the Ocean. We came from the ocean, and back to it we will go in the end.
--
Shakespeare
THE mind boggles at the amount of death and suffering. The sheer scale of the disaster is unthinkable. The damage will take decades to repair. The blow will lay low the economies of the region and send it into an interrugnum of darkness and despair.
This is what floats through my mind right now, watching and reading about ten thousand new deaths with every new day and the rising difficulties facing the relief workers. Suddenly the Iraq insurgency, terrorist threats and Middle Eastern oil cartels seem like such distant concerns. Something has hit us here in Asia, and this something that could destroy this region and turn it into a hellpit of misery.
I look at satellite imagery of Indonesia before and after the tsunami and try to imagine what would happen if something like that hit here in Bangladesh. I can't; it's too hard.
I once read a Jungle Book story where Mowgli has the elephants of the jungle destroy his native village, which cast him out as a demon child and would have burnt his parents as witches. He said, `Let in the jungle, Hathi!' In the satellite pictures it looks like someone cried `Let in the sea!' and it was so. In the Jungle Books, there was nothing older or more powerful than the Law of the Jungle. Now it seems to me there is something older and more powerful: the Law of the Ocean.
And yet in the news they're always talking about what the UN is saying, what countries are forming coalitions, sending each other aid; the rich giving to the poor, and the poor sharing amongst themselves. Volunteers helping stranded tourists find their lost ones. All countries coming together in symphony and no jarring notes, no dissension. It's so amazing, so incredible to see this -- the countries acting as if they are part of one big nation, one nation-planet, governed by the common Law of Humanity.
Which is the stronger law? No doubt about it, the Law of the Ocean. We came from the ocean, and back to it we will go in the end.
Dec 29, 2004
Earthquakes, tsunamis and life
I was chatting with a Sri Lankan friend about an hour ago and I mentioned to him my surprise that the Bam, Iran earthquake of last year is not mentioned by the BBC (at bbc.co.uk) as one of the major earthquakes of this century. Instead, after mentioning the Indonesia earthquake of a couple of days ago, the list jumps to 1964, I think. He said something to the effect that that's because the international community was not affected by Bam. With the Indonesia earthquake, the dead came from many countries around the world.
I suppose this view is cynical, but at least to me it's not such a surprise. I know that most people are more or less self-interested -- I know I am. So it's hardly immoral to give something more importance that affects you directly. Still, considering that 30,000 lives were lost in Bam, I think it deserved a mention.
And now, we're hearing that the Asian death toll is 44,000 (my God!) because of Indonesia's losses of maybe 25,000 and Sri Lanka's (almost) 19,000. I'm seeing stories of people from all over the world, famous and obscure, being caught up together in this disaster. This is brutal and amazing, that all are levelled to the same ground in the maelstrom, from supermodels to football stars, to the German chancellor himself.
And to add salt to the considerable wounds, Asia will almost certainly have to implement, at the cost of perhaps millions of dollars, tsunami and earthquake early warning systems or the tourist industry will never recover. Paradise on Earth will forever be on the lookout for death from the sea.
I suppose this view is cynical, but at least to me it's not such a surprise. I know that most people are more or less self-interested -- I know I am. So it's hardly immoral to give something more importance that affects you directly. Still, considering that 30,000 lives were lost in Bam, I think it deserved a mention.
And now, we're hearing that the Asian death toll is 44,000 (my God!) because of Indonesia's losses of maybe 25,000 and Sri Lanka's (almost) 19,000. I'm seeing stories of people from all over the world, famous and obscure, being caught up together in this disaster. This is brutal and amazing, that all are levelled to the same ground in the maelstrom, from supermodels to football stars, to the German chancellor himself.
And to add salt to the considerable wounds, Asia will almost certainly have to implement, at the cost of perhaps millions of dollars, tsunami and earthquake early warning systems or the tourist industry will never recover. Paradise on Earth will forever be on the lookout for death from the sea.
Dec 15, 2004
For science
A few weeks ago I caught a little household spider in a transparent plastic floppy disk case. I showed it to Yaman, who recoiled in disgust (he's mortally afraid of all insects and most animals). Still, he overcame his fear enough to take the case from me and give it a good shaking. I shouted at him and snatched the case back. Then I put it on a table to observe.
In about a minute, maybe, the spider turned itself to `stand' on the ceiling of the case, upside-down. I then turned the case upside-down, to put the spider right-side up again. It went crazy! It started running about inside the case for about ten or twenty seconds, then slowed down and hung itself upside-down again.
I put it upright again. And again, it went crazy, skittering about madly, and then finally putting itself upside-down again. I did this several times, and each time it responded in exactly the same way.
After a while, I have to admit, I got bored (I'm not Richard Feynman :-). So I let it go on the balcony outside my bedroom. Immediately Yaman squashed it under his sandal. I shouted at him some more, then gave it up. He's totally determined to wipe out all of insectkind, it seems. (Yes, I know a spider is not an insect, but an arachnid. Yaman doesn't care.)
In about a minute, maybe, the spider turned itself to `stand' on the ceiling of the case, upside-down. I then turned the case upside-down, to put the spider right-side up again. It went crazy! It started running about inside the case for about ten or twenty seconds, then slowed down and hung itself upside-down again.
I put it upright again. And again, it went crazy, skittering about madly, and then finally putting itself upside-down again. I did this several times, and each time it responded in exactly the same way.
After a while, I have to admit, I got bored (I'm not Richard Feynman :-). So I let it go on the balcony outside my bedroom. Immediately Yaman squashed it under his sandal. I shouted at him some more, then gave it up. He's totally determined to wipe out all of insectkind, it seems. (Yes, I know a spider is not an insect, but an arachnid. Yaman doesn't care.)
Dec 12, 2004
Mistakes I can make
Yes, I too make mistakes. I did a very foolish thing today. I was walking home when a man wearing a shirt and lungi greeted me as if he knew me. He said he'd used to work for this video store that had closed down and that I had used to go there frequently (which was true, but that was a _long_ time ago, and he shouldn't have been able to have recognised me from from then). Although I didn't recognise him I shook his hand and he clasped my hand for a long time while he spoke of himself and asked me where I'd been recently. I answered him (Chittagong, Dhaka), wondering what he wanted (idiot me).
Then he started describing all the troubles he'd been having in Dhaka after losing the video store job -- looking for a job, supporting the family, and so on. And still I stood there like an idiot letting him talk on. I don't know what spell came over me -- was I uncertain as to whether he had really recognised me? Was it because he spoke some English as he told me about trying to get a job at a club in Gulshan? Was he going to ask me for a job?
Then I got a call from my mother, and I decided to get going. So I told him I had to go, implying that my mother had told me something I needed to do in a hurry. He kept on talking, finally getting to the point -- would I lend him some money, he would never ask me normally but he'd been having trouble recently and also suffering ill health -- he showed me his left arm, which had discoloured patches on it. That was when I started kicking myself (figuratively speaking) for staying to listen so long.
He was saying, maybe I could lend him a hundred taka? Maybe even fifty? I told him I didn't have anything, I would have given him something if I did have it, but I didn't. I lied, I did have some money on me, two hundred taka, but I would never give away money to anyone I met on the street.
He seemed very reluctant to let me go. I left him behind, feeling like a total idiot.
Then he started describing all the troubles he'd been having in Dhaka after losing the video store job -- looking for a job, supporting the family, and so on. And still I stood there like an idiot letting him talk on. I don't know what spell came over me -- was I uncertain as to whether he had really recognised me? Was it because he spoke some English as he told me about trying to get a job at a club in Gulshan? Was he going to ask me for a job?
Then I got a call from my mother, and I decided to get going. So I told him I had to go, implying that my mother had told me something I needed to do in a hurry. He kept on talking, finally getting to the point -- would I lend him some money, he would never ask me normally but he'd been having trouble recently and also suffering ill health -- he showed me his left arm, which had discoloured patches on it. That was when I started kicking myself (figuratively speaking) for staying to listen so long.
He was saying, maybe I could lend him a hundred taka? Maybe even fifty? I told him I didn't have anything, I would have given him something if I did have it, but I didn't. I lied, I did have some money on me, two hundred taka, but I would never give away money to anyone I met on the street.
He seemed very reluctant to let me go. I left him behind, feeling like a total idiot.
Nov 18, 2004
I love new software
I don't know about you but, I'm a sucker for new (and improved) programs on my computer. This is what keeps me downloading and trying out most anything I can lay my hands on, from alternative office suites to mail servers.
Lately on Linux, I've been trying out the Xfce desktop environment, and I have to say, on my RAM-deprived PC (128 MB), it totally kicks ass. It's fast, clean, minimal, but it looks incredible, especially with the GTK+ Smokey-Blue theme.
I've also been setting up a mail system in Linux that uses MrPostman to download all my Hotmail messages from the Hotmail site, classify it into different categories using POPFile, and deliver it to my electronic mailbox. It's working pretty well so far, and POPFile is getting more and more accurate in its classification. My only problem is the lack of mail to download and test the setup! But what the heck.
Finally I've got a mail system that comes about as close as I've ever gotten to my own POP account with an ISP.
Lately on Linux, I've been trying out the Xfce desktop environment, and I have to say, on my RAM-deprived PC (128 MB), it totally kicks ass. It's fast, clean, minimal, but it looks incredible, especially with the GTK+ Smokey-Blue theme.
I've also been setting up a mail system in Linux that uses MrPostman to download all my Hotmail messages from the Hotmail site, classify it into different categories using POPFile, and deliver it to my electronic mailbox. It's working pretty well so far, and POPFile is getting more and more accurate in its classification. My only problem is the lack of mail to download and test the setup! But what the heck.
Finally I've got a mail system that comes about as close as I've ever gotten to my own POP account with an ISP.
Nov 3, 2004
(Bangalis) debating the election
This might be one of the more exciting events of modern times. The American people choose a new president and the rest of the world is riveted. Everyone I know has an opinion and wants to debate. Everyone here is rooting for Kerry, but the funny thing is people supporting the same guy find a way to debate with each other.
What I mean is, people start talking about Bush and Saddam and Osama and Iraq. The old story. Then someone goes, `Oh, I'm behind Kerry 100%.' And the other guy is `Absolutely, me too.' And they're both (moderately) happy. But then guy no. 1 says something like, `And you know, Bush did such-and-such and you could obviously see that it was wrong.'
Now this is a very innocuous statement because these guys are definitely on the same side, right? Wrong! Guy no. 2 gets all riled up at this point: `It's ridiculous! Can't you see that such-and-such! And this-and-that!!! And on top of everything else, ...'
Then guy no. 1 gets worked up as well: `But that was absolutely wrong! Bush should've gone to the United Nations and blah-blah-blah!'
Guy no. 2: `But don't you see, he says he did go! And that they gave him permission to blah-blah-blah!'
Guy no. 1: `What the hell are you talking about! Are you a Bush supporter!'
Guy no. 2: `I thought you said you supported Bush! Otherwise why were you arguing about him!!!'
Oct 23, 2004
Using GnuPG
I've started using GnuPG, the GNU Privacy Guard. I've uploaded my public key to the MIT PGP key server, pgp.mit.edu. My key ID is:
D8643D69
and fingerprint is:
B57F D9D9 FFA1 A18F 9876 7512 5999 7722 D864 3D69
If this post has caused you a headache so far, sorry! I just like the idea of playing around with digital signing and encryption.
Oct 9, 2004
`The Apprentice'
After watching four episodes, I've finally decided it's one of my all-time favourite shows. Two teams, minimal team loyalty, and almost constant bickering among the women are the defining factors, and it's great to watch.
My favourite episode so far has been the one where Sam got fired. He was labeled the `wild man' of the men's team, and he had openly admitted to Mr Trump that he had not earned the others' respect -- but he seemed to think that was their fault. After he was fired, he stared murderously at Trump. Hadn't anyone told him when he signed up there was a possibility he would get fired? Trump probably increased his security detail after that!
Yesterday night's episode was interesting because Nick folded when he didn't approve of a business tactic the others were using to get the customers in. They had set up Kwame at a desk giving out autographs -- `Get your autograph of Kwame Jackson, Wall Street [grunt]', as if he was a celebrity. In retrospect, it seems like what Sam tried to do in the first episode selling lemonade to a guy for a thousand dollars -- `I guarantee that if you buy this lemonade, you will have an experience that you will remember.' Kinda bending the rules of the show, but not quite. The implication was that after the show aired, all the contenders would become well-known to the public.
Anyway, Nick said he didn't approve of the tactic and wasn't going to be a part of it. But he didn't really do anything much at all. He just hung around outside and chanted something like `Coupons, coupons'. Carolyn was right when she pointed out he had looked like he was dying. Nick should have stuck up for the team and the team leader no matter what he thought of the tactics. And in any case he certainly didn't come up with anything better.
As for the women ... they focused on liquor and won. Heidi was very impressive selling the drinks. She capitalised on the male `macho' complex, urging them to down the shots. It was excellent. I don't know if you could say whether they went too far when the started drinking as well. Maybe that was a mistake, but they beat the men, which was the goal, so....
As for the whole `Shooters Girls' thing, small T-shirts and all, I think Trump and Carolyn were wrong to caution them about using sexuality. It should be obvious that their goal, and all their incentives, pointed at beating the men any way necessary. It was just business. If Trump wanted to see what they would do if they couldn't use sexuality as a tactic, he should have put them in a task which neutralised it -- e.g., negotiating with a woman, or in a highly scrutinised corporate environment. I don't know.
On a side note, I have to admit that for the most part I'm very erratic with my blogging. It's just that I just don't say anything if there's nothing interesting going on.
My favourite episode so far has been the one where Sam got fired. He was labeled the `wild man' of the men's team, and he had openly admitted to Mr Trump that he had not earned the others' respect -- but he seemed to think that was their fault. After he was fired, he stared murderously at Trump. Hadn't anyone told him when he signed up there was a possibility he would get fired? Trump probably increased his security detail after that!
Yesterday night's episode was interesting because Nick folded when he didn't approve of a business tactic the others were using to get the customers in. They had set up Kwame at a desk giving out autographs -- `Get your autograph of Kwame Jackson, Wall Street [grunt]', as if he was a celebrity. In retrospect, it seems like what Sam tried to do in the first episode selling lemonade to a guy for a thousand dollars -- `I guarantee that if you buy this lemonade, you will have an experience that you will remember.' Kinda bending the rules of the show, but not quite. The implication was that after the show aired, all the contenders would become well-known to the public.
Anyway, Nick said he didn't approve of the tactic and wasn't going to be a part of it. But he didn't really do anything much at all. He just hung around outside and chanted something like `Coupons, coupons'. Carolyn was right when she pointed out he had looked like he was dying. Nick should have stuck up for the team and the team leader no matter what he thought of the tactics. And in any case he certainly didn't come up with anything better.
As for the women ... they focused on liquor and won. Heidi was very impressive selling the drinks. She capitalised on the male `macho' complex, urging them to down the shots. It was excellent. I don't know if you could say whether they went too far when the started drinking as well. Maybe that was a mistake, but they beat the men, which was the goal, so....
As for the whole `Shooters Girls' thing, small T-shirts and all, I think Trump and Carolyn were wrong to caution them about using sexuality. It should be obvious that their goal, and all their incentives, pointed at beating the men any way necessary. It was just business. If Trump wanted to see what they would do if they couldn't use sexuality as a tactic, he should have put them in a task which neutralised it -- e.g., negotiating with a woman, or in a highly scrutinised corporate environment. I don't know.
On a side note, I have to admit that for the most part I'm very erratic with my blogging. It's just that I just don't say anything if there's nothing interesting going on.
Sep 7, 2004
Haircuts as a kid
When I was younger, from nine years to about eleven years old, we used to live in Dubai, in a part of town called Deira. I was pretty happy there, for the most part. At that time I really liked going for my haircuts. My father and I would go for a walk to the barbershop, which was moderately close. Maybe sometimes we'd take the car.
So I would sit in the barbershop, which was spotlessly clean, and cool and dry, and have the accoutrements of the haircut put on me. First came the universal inner towel and white cloak. Then, unique (as far as I could tell) to this barbershop, one of the Filipino barbers, they were young chaps, would roll out some length of plasticky cloth, cut it off at the end, and wind it around my neck, holding up the white cloak. This was probably to make sure no hair fell in through the cracks.
Then would commence the snip, snip, snippety-snip. And voila, we were done. I think once or twice after a cut, we would go to a nearby public library, which to my great regret I didn't spend more time in.
Later, we moved to Sharjah [Sharjah and Dubai are cities in the United Arab Emirates]. So I actually became a teenager growing up in Sharjah. But anyway, when I was still a pre-teen, by that time I was trying to throw off the tyrannical yoke of my mother and her enforced mushroom cut. She thought it was cute, but by that time I had developed enough sentience to realise it was ghastly. OK, it was really more suited to the Western or Filipino kids, but by then I couldn't really pass for either, so I decided the best cut for me would be a fully natural cut -- in other words, just let it grow however it will, and trim it if it starts getting uncomfortable. And to this day I've kept to that style.
So anyway, back then, I was this kid in Sharjah, trying to outgrow, literally, my mushroom cut. And there were a couple of barbershops pretty close to my place. In fact, probably there was one in the next building. Finally, shortly before I turned twelve, I managed to get there alone and gave strict instructions to have it cut evenly. I was quite pleased with the result, but my mother was noncommittal at best.
Still later, we had moved to another house in Sharjah, on another street. And there was another barbershop on this street, and I used to get my haircuts there from then on. This one had nice black leather chairs -- rather like I car's, I thought. Once, on my way to the place, I popped open and started drinking a bottle of Pepsi. Then when I got there, I had to wait while the barber was finishing with another customer. In an accident, I clumsily tipped the bottle of Pepsi and it spilled. Now what I should have done was let it all spill onto my lap, because I was sitting in a leather chair. And I knew that. But in a reflex action, I had opened my lap, and most of the Pepsi went on the leather.
The barber was mad. He went nuclear, really. He was a youngish (well, late thirties) Iranian guy, and he had a temper. He started yelling at me. Luckily my father showed up and it was exit, stage left. And no haircut that night. And I didn't go back there for some time, for good measure.
Actually the one thing I appreciate about those haircuts is I got into the habit of getting a standard `medium-length' cut which just about any barber can do, so it doesn't take me long to describe what I want when I have to go to a new barbershop. And that's great because I hate describing how I want my hair cut.
So I would sit in the barbershop, which was spotlessly clean, and cool and dry, and have the accoutrements of the haircut put on me. First came the universal inner towel and white cloak. Then, unique (as far as I could tell) to this barbershop, one of the Filipino barbers, they were young chaps, would roll out some length of plasticky cloth, cut it off at the end, and wind it around my neck, holding up the white cloak. This was probably to make sure no hair fell in through the cracks.
Then would commence the snip, snip, snippety-snip. And voila, we were done. I think once or twice after a cut, we would go to a nearby public library, which to my great regret I didn't spend more time in.
Later, we moved to Sharjah [Sharjah and Dubai are cities in the United Arab Emirates]. So I actually became a teenager growing up in Sharjah. But anyway, when I was still a pre-teen, by that time I was trying to throw off the tyrannical yoke of my mother and her enforced mushroom cut. She thought it was cute, but by that time I had developed enough sentience to realise it was ghastly. OK, it was really more suited to the Western or Filipino kids, but by then I couldn't really pass for either, so I decided the best cut for me would be a fully natural cut -- in other words, just let it grow however it will, and trim it if it starts getting uncomfortable. And to this day I've kept to that style.
So anyway, back then, I was this kid in Sharjah, trying to outgrow, literally, my mushroom cut. And there were a couple of barbershops pretty close to my place. In fact, probably there was one in the next building. Finally, shortly before I turned twelve, I managed to get there alone and gave strict instructions to have it cut evenly. I was quite pleased with the result, but my mother was noncommittal at best.
Still later, we had moved to another house in Sharjah, on another street. And there was another barbershop on this street, and I used to get my haircuts there from then on. This one had nice black leather chairs -- rather like I car's, I thought. Once, on my way to the place, I popped open and started drinking a bottle of Pepsi. Then when I got there, I had to wait while the barber was finishing with another customer. In an accident, I clumsily tipped the bottle of Pepsi and it spilled. Now what I should have done was let it all spill onto my lap, because I was sitting in a leather chair. And I knew that. But in a reflex action, I had opened my lap, and most of the Pepsi went on the leather.
The barber was mad. He went nuclear, really. He was a youngish (well, late thirties) Iranian guy, and he had a temper. He started yelling at me. Luckily my father showed up and it was exit, stage left. And no haircut that night. And I didn't go back there for some time, for good measure.
Actually the one thing I appreciate about those haircuts is I got into the habit of getting a standard `medium-length' cut which just about any barber can do, so it doesn't take me long to describe what I want when I have to go to a new barbershop. And that's great because I hate describing how I want my hair cut.
Sep 2, 2004
On My Faith
I am not a religious person. In fact, I consider myself an atheist. I never was very religious but as I grew up I saw no point in pretending to be a Muslim if I didn't think of myself as such. I distinguish between religion and morality and am content with that. I try to be tolerant of all religions. That may not always have been the case, but I think now it's more important in most cases to empathise with people rather than emphasise your difference from them.
When you say you're an atheist, you come to the problem of what you think will happen after death. Most people obviously think their souls will go on `living', thus preserving their consciousness and their memories and experiences. And I automatically put myself against this when I say I'm an atheist. But I do accept that when I die, that will be it, the end of the universe as far as I'm concerned -- no soul, no afterlife, nothing but the void. And I accept that. It doesn't depress me terribly because, and I know this isn't the secret of eternal bliss, I'm not terribly obsessive about such things.
I do like to think of myself as a philosopher, but not really a seeker of spiritual truth. What I'm more interested in is a sort of sociological perspective of human civilisation for the past ten thousand years. Somewhere in all of human history there must be the clue that helps us to deal with the advances our civilisation is making as we move to the next level. Or perhaps it is present at the macro level as the patterns fall into place.
All I know is there are some things that are terribly wrong with our civilisation as it is, and we are all too stuck in the human mindset, the one we've had for the past ten thousand years, to put our fingers on it. We need to get out of this rut to make the advances we need to live up to our potential.
I think of myself as a liberal, having been influenced by Isaac Asimov, Harper Lee, Philip Pullman (His Dark Materials), Anne Rice, Carl Sagan, Khushwant Singh, Voltaire, and many others I can't think of right now. I am more or less totally liberal in attitude. And I think the basis of that is a kind of fierce tolerance of others, their behaviour, their attitudes, meanners, customs, whatever. For the most part, people don't want to get in my way, tell me what to do, and so on. And I love that and I act exactly the same way. Let everyone live their lives as they will, as long as they don't tell me what to do.
Finally, on a personal level, I have this attitude which I have decided to adopt of complete imperturbability. It's a kind of attitude where you're polite and somewhat kind and maybe even generous but you don't let anybody push you around, and you never get angry -- and even if you do feel anger, or pain, or whatever, you don't let them see it -- because you don't let yourself get hurt by anything anyone says. If one becomes totally insensitive to negative criticism (but not constructive criticism), derision, you know, all kinds of negative attitudes, I think one can find the world a much easier place to live in.
What I mean to say is, I have a very simple measure of whether somebody is trying to hurt me. Are they making fun of me, spreading lies about me, etc. etc.? Then they're not hurting me. Are they coming after me with a knife? Then they're going to hurt me. It's that simple. OK, maybe it's not, but for the most part I can deal with people by simply refusing to let anyone hurt me with words. The way I look at it is, all that's coming out of their mouths is shit at 60 wpm [words per minute]. But even then, try to understand where they're coming from, never let them feel that you're disturbed by them, but rather that you understand how they feel, but you don't feel the same way, and you simply don't care what they think. And the best part of it is, this will drive them nuts!
This is my favourite maxim: `Don't suffer fools gladly, but gladly make them suffer.'
When you say you're an atheist, you come to the problem of what you think will happen after death. Most people obviously think their souls will go on `living', thus preserving their consciousness and their memories and experiences. And I automatically put myself against this when I say I'm an atheist. But I do accept that when I die, that will be it, the end of the universe as far as I'm concerned -- no soul, no afterlife, nothing but the void. And I accept that. It doesn't depress me terribly because, and I know this isn't the secret of eternal bliss, I'm not terribly obsessive about such things.
I do like to think of myself as a philosopher, but not really a seeker of spiritual truth. What I'm more interested in is a sort of sociological perspective of human civilisation for the past ten thousand years. Somewhere in all of human history there must be the clue that helps us to deal with the advances our civilisation is making as we move to the next level. Or perhaps it is present at the macro level as the patterns fall into place.
All I know is there are some things that are terribly wrong with our civilisation as it is, and we are all too stuck in the human mindset, the one we've had for the past ten thousand years, to put our fingers on it. We need to get out of this rut to make the advances we need to live up to our potential.
I think of myself as a liberal, having been influenced by Isaac Asimov, Harper Lee, Philip Pullman (His Dark Materials), Anne Rice, Carl Sagan, Khushwant Singh, Voltaire, and many others I can't think of right now. I am more or less totally liberal in attitude. And I think the basis of that is a kind of fierce tolerance of others, their behaviour, their attitudes, meanners, customs, whatever. For the most part, people don't want to get in my way, tell me what to do, and so on. And I love that and I act exactly the same way. Let everyone live their lives as they will, as long as they don't tell me what to do.
Finally, on a personal level, I have this attitude which I have decided to adopt of complete imperturbability. It's a kind of attitude where you're polite and somewhat kind and maybe even generous but you don't let anybody push you around, and you never get angry -- and even if you do feel anger, or pain, or whatever, you don't let them see it -- because you don't let yourself get hurt by anything anyone says. If one becomes totally insensitive to negative criticism (but not constructive criticism), derision, you know, all kinds of negative attitudes, I think one can find the world a much easier place to live in.
What I mean to say is, I have a very simple measure of whether somebody is trying to hurt me. Are they making fun of me, spreading lies about me, etc. etc.? Then they're not hurting me. Are they coming after me with a knife? Then they're going to hurt me. It's that simple. OK, maybe it's not, but for the most part I can deal with people by simply refusing to let anyone hurt me with words. The way I look at it is, all that's coming out of their mouths is shit at 60 wpm [words per minute]. But even then, try to understand where they're coming from, never let them feel that you're disturbed by them, but rather that you understand how they feel, but you don't feel the same way, and you simply don't care what they think. And the best part of it is, this will drive them nuts!
This is my favourite maxim: `Don't suffer fools gladly, but gladly make them suffer.'
Aug 27, 2004
Gmail, Islam, Understanding
A couple of days ago, a red link showed up in my Gmail inbox page below the mailbox list. It said `Invite a Friend' [to use Gmail], and I was like OK, this may be my only chance to invite someone for I dunno, six months or a year or something, so I better make it good. And the only person I could think of who might appreciate a Gmail account was Faisal (and yes, Marvin, but he recently got himself a 1 GB Walla account so I thought a Gmail invitation would just confuse the poor guy). And Yaman would certainly not even understand the big deal about Gmail. So it's 1 GB, so what? He doesn't even use his 2 MB Hotmail account much. When Hotmail upgrades him to 250 MB, as they've promised to do soon, he probably won't even notice the difference.
So I called up Faisal and indirectly asked him what he thought of a Gmail account. He was interested but for the life of him couldn't figure out why I was asking these silly questions. But then he's probably used to that from me by now. As an aside, if I were called up and asked what I thought of Gmail, I'd probably make the connection immediately and expect an invite, but what the hey.... :-)
So, having assured myself that he would appreciate the benefits of having a Gmail account, I sent out the invite and congratulated myself on my wise decision.
Today, I signed in to Gmail and what should I see but 6 -- not one, but six -- invitations that I can give out to friends. Yikes. Sue me, but I think I'm running out of friends to invite. Nevertheless, I think I'll try. Alia could probably use the storage space, given her volume of correspondence, and Marvin, now that I come to think of it, could probably be persuaded to part with Walla for Gmail. Actually, I think I'll just email them, so there.
--
Now, I've finally finished Karen Armstrong's `History of Islam' -- not that it was huge or anything, but rather because I took a rather long hiatus to read other stuff. Dadiamma could never figure out why Dada leaves a book unfinished to start another one, and then finishes the first after the second, but I think that like me, he gets bored with one book after a while, no matter how interesting it is.
Anyway, Armstrong said something about why Muslim women might want to veil themselves from head to toe -- even though that is not required by the Quran -- that reminded me of my own affinity for my beard even when it was criticised roundly by both friends and family. Part of my rationale for the beard was, I don't care how I look to the rest of the world as long as I can have my way. Or, screw the rest of the world, I don't give a damn what they think. Or even, screw the rest of the world, I'll keep the beard just to irritate them!
So my being like that, I can certainly appreciate why some women might subscribe to the veil. It might irritate people, but I can appreciate the black irony of that and congratulate myself (!) for it.
--
This might sound shallow after the last paragraph, but I've come to realise that the most important thing I can ever learn is how to put myself in another person's shoes. In another word, empathy. The master's disciple may have concentrated on anger management[1], but I think if you understand the motivations behind people's actions, you'll find it a lot easier to control your temper. Now if only I could drill this into my head with a chainsaw. But no, it will probably take many years to fully absorb this idea.
So I called up Faisal and indirectly asked him what he thought of a Gmail account. He was interested but for the life of him couldn't figure out why I was asking these silly questions. But then he's probably used to that from me by now. As an aside, if I were called up and asked what I thought of Gmail, I'd probably make the connection immediately and expect an invite, but what the hey.... :-)
So, having assured myself that he would appreciate the benefits of having a Gmail account, I sent out the invite and congratulated myself on my wise decision.
Today, I signed in to Gmail and what should I see but 6 -- not one, but six -- invitations that I can give out to friends. Yikes. Sue me, but I think I'm running out of friends to invite. Nevertheless, I think I'll try. Alia could probably use the storage space, given her volume of correspondence, and Marvin, now that I come to think of it, could probably be persuaded to part with Walla for Gmail. Actually, I think I'll just email them, so there.
--
Now, I've finally finished Karen Armstrong's `History of Islam' -- not that it was huge or anything, but rather because I took a rather long hiatus to read other stuff. Dadiamma could never figure out why Dada leaves a book unfinished to start another one, and then finishes the first after the second, but I think that like me, he gets bored with one book after a while, no matter how interesting it is.
Anyway, Armstrong said something about why Muslim women might want to veil themselves from head to toe -- even though that is not required by the Quran -- that reminded me of my own affinity for my beard even when it was criticised roundly by both friends and family. Part of my rationale for the beard was, I don't care how I look to the rest of the world as long as I can have my way. Or, screw the rest of the world, I don't give a damn what they think. Or even, screw the rest of the world, I'll keep the beard just to irritate them!
So my being like that, I can certainly appreciate why some women might subscribe to the veil. It might irritate people, but I can appreciate the black irony of that and congratulate myself (!) for it.
--
This might sound shallow after the last paragraph, but I've come to realise that the most important thing I can ever learn is how to put myself in another person's shoes. In another word, empathy. The master's disciple may have concentrated on anger management[1], but I think if you understand the motivations behind people's actions, you'll find it a lot easier to control your temper. Now if only I could drill this into my head with a chainsaw. But no, it will probably take many years to fully absorb this idea.
[1] The story goes like this. A master once left his disciples to go on a trip. When he returned, he asked each of them what they had learned in his absence. They each enumerated the things they had learned, and the master was well pleased. However, when he came to the last pupil, and asked him what he had learnt, the pupil said he had learned only one thing. Hearing this, the master became very angry and struck the pupil. Then he asked him what he had learned. Calmy, the pupil replied, `I have learned never to lose my temper.'
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