Monday, August 18, 2008

A comparison

I'm sitting here at home (in Manitoba!) watching the two presumptive combatants in this fall's ugliness field questions from Rick Warren, the pastor of one of these megachurches, in a pair of interviews conducted yesterday (I think). Initially, I watched Obama's interview because the guy is fascinating to listen to and because I really do like him (the former may well be a consequence of the latter). Then I felt somewhat obligated to stay and watch McCain's as well, since I haven't really heard too much of what he has to say, having made up my mind quite some time ago which way my ballot will be cast in November.

So I'm sitting here listening to John McCain answer the same questions that I just heard Barack Obama answer, and trying to sort out just what the difference is between the two (besides the fact that my spell-checker flags "Barack Obama" as misspelled, and not "John McCain"). Obviously some of the answers are different, but there seems to be a more fundamental difference, which may or may not reflect a fundamental difference between the so-called "conservative" and "liberal" ideologies. And that has to do with this question -- is the world simple, or is the world complex? In response to that, should the manner in which we engage with the world, the manner in which we make decisions, be simple or complex?

Put another way, is the world black and white, or shades of gray? Time and again, Rev. Warren would ask a question, and Obama would give a careful and measured response in which he expressed an appreciation for how complex the issue was, and a respect for the position.
When McCain's turn came, very often the question would barely be completed before he shot back a short, simple answer.

When does life begin? At conception. Next?
What should we do about energy? Drill offshore. Next?
How do we deal with evil? Hunt down al-Qaeda. Next?

And so on. Of course this is an exaggeration -- McCain did give thoughtful, measured responses to all the questions, not the two word throwaways I suggest here. But with each successive answer, he reinforced my impression that he thinks all of these things have simple answers, that the way to deal with the world is clear-cut, black and white, and that the answer to which he has come is the only reasonable one. Obama, by contrast, would always approach a sensitive issue by giving his own opinion and also expressing his respect for those who end up disagreeing with him.

No doubt this is in part due to the fact that McCain was in some sense on home turf -- an evangelical megachurch's congregation is likely to be on his side when it comes to abortion, gay marriage, and all the other hot-button issues that rabble-rousers like to inject into the debate at the expense of more important things like whether the environment will still be able to support our technological civilisation in fifty years. But this is an impression that I often get when listening to the two sides: from the conservative point of view, one has a well defined set of rules with which to confront the world, and problems have relatively simple solutions, hence existing systems should be preserved; from the liberal point of view, any set of rules is somehow flawed, and the world is complex, hence existing systems should be reformed.

That may be harking back to an older definition of liberal and conservative, but it seems to make sense to me as a template through which to view the debate. Any thoughts?

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p.s. Let me just comment on one specific question and answer in the interview, the question of "Does evil exist, and do we ignore it, negotiate with it, contain it, or defeat it?" Obama's answer was more or less that evil must be confronted, but that we must be wary that those who seek to do good have often ended up perpetrating great evil themselves (and he said rather more besides). McCain's answer was very different -- he said, in effect, "Defeat it. I will hunt down Osama bin Laden and eliminate al-Qaeda from the face of the earth."

That is to say, McCain gave a very good answer had the question been, "Does al-Qaeda exist, and do we ignore it, negotiate with it, contain it, or defeat it?" The question, however, was not about al-Qaeda, but about evil. McCain appears to have heard the word "evil" and substituted the phrase "radical Islamic fundamentalism", or perhaps "terrorism" -- I must say, I like Obama's answer much better.

Going along with that is McCain's idea of what the greatest challenge the world faces in the coming years -- radical Islamic fundamentalism. I don't remember Obama's answer, or if perhaps the question was asked to Obama before I sat down on the couch, but I disagree profoundly with that sentiment, and am quite frightened by it. I may have given my hand away already -- I believe that the greatest challenge the world faces is quite simply the question of whether or not we will have a livable world in fifty or a hundred years. I've said this before and I'll say it again -- if we screw the planet up and it becomes unlivable, then nothing else matters. We need to get our priorities in order, and fast.

Monday, August 04, 2008

Berlin, Amsterdam, and a book

My, how time flies.

Having only just arrived back in State College five days ago, I'm now getting ready to pack my bags and head for Waterloo tomorrow morning. It's finally time for that visit to Canada that I haven't managed to make this summer.

In the meantime, a quick update. My first stop after Bedlewo was Berlin, where Chelsea and I wandered around the city for a day or so before she had to head back to Munich. My one day alone in Berlin was spent taking a ten-hour walking tour -- phenomenal. Thanks to Art for suggesting that tour, and may I heartily recommend it to anyone interested in seeing Berlin. Left to my own devices, I never would have found the Whale at the Brandenburg Gate, also known as the inside of the DG Bank. I won't give away the other random discoveries -- you'll have to take the tour yourself.

Terry (our tour guide) also filled us in on all sorts of German history. I had no idea how significant the date November 9 is...

Riding the U-Bahn (subway) back to the hostel one night, Chelsea and I found ourselves surrounded by a rather energetic group of young adults who were quite evidently not German. After hearing enough of the accent to decide I had to ask, I discovered that they were, in fact, a dance and drama group called iThemba, part of Youth for Christ South Africa, who had just spent several days in Berlin and were now headed off to continue their summer-long tour of Germany. Small world, eh?

Surreal moment in Germany. Seeing advertisements everywhere for an upcoming performance by the Blue Man Group -- each billboard was also emblazoned with the phrase, "Show suitable for foreign tourists!" Good to know.

Ironic moment in Germany. Walking along the path where the Berlin Wall used to stand, which is now marked by a double row of bricks in the pavement -- for a span of a block or two near Checkpoint Charlie, the row of bricks runs along the road, just next to the curb, and so we came across a line of tour buses, neatly parked one after the other along the line where the wall separating East and West used to stand. Hmm.

From Berlin I was scheduled to fly to Amsterdam, then Detroit, then State College, all on Tuesday. That plan fell apart when the flight to Amsterdam was delayed an hour and a half, and I missed my connection -- the next possibility to get me home was the same flight the next day, meaning I was stuck in Amsterdam for the night. Fortunately, KLM was very good about the whole thing -- they put me up in a Holiday Inn just outside the city (45 minutes to downtown), and what's more, bumped me up to business class on the next day's flight! I can't say I minded too much...

So I got to spend an unexpected evening walking around Amsterdam! My observations -- Amsterdam has no internet cafes (which made it harder to email people telling them I was delayed), the shops there don't believe in putting prices on anything, and every block has an Argentinian steakhouse. Ah well... at least I got to see this guy in Leidseplein... amazing.

And finally, in other news, the surfaces book is moving ever closer to actual publication. We now have a cover and a website! Now all I have to do is make all the corrections to the manuscript that the copy editor indicated...

Hmm... this all seems like a rather disjointed account of the last couple weeks. I promise that eventually things will settle down enough for me to write a more coherent post. Eventually.

Friday, July 25, 2008

Leaving Bedlewo

So, tonight is my last night here in Bedlewo. All in all, the three weeks have gone rather quickly. Tomorrow morning I take the train to Berlin, and trade in my mathematician's hat (yes, we have hats) for a tourist's. After three days of that, I fly back to State College on Tuesday, where I'll have a week to catch up on work and go to a wedding -- then I drive up to Waterloo, where I'll have a week to catch up with friends and go to a wedding -- then I fly to Manitoba, where I'll have a week to catch up with friends and family and stay as far away from weddings as possible. And then it's back to State College for the start of fall term! Looks like the rest of summer will be busy...

But that's all in the future at the moment. Right now, in the calm before the storm, let me reflect on the past three weeks -- mathematically, they've been rather intense, I've learned a great deal, and I wound up distilling some of what I learned into a 21-page set of notes on measure theory and its applications to dynamics, based on a couple rather free-wheeling review sessions Prof. Katok gave last week. Those'll probably go up on my website eventually -- I'll leave mathematics out of this blog, for the most part, and focus instead on the non-mathematical aspects of my time in Poland, which could best be described as unrepentantly surreal. To wit:

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In the days immediately after my arrival, it became apparent that the watchword in the kitchen here is consistency. Lunch is always the same -- salad, soup, some sort of fried meat, vegetables, and potatoes. Supper is buffet-style sandwiches -- meat, cheese, cucumbers, and tomatoes -- with some sort of hot dish in small portions, and a salad whose main ingredients are usually mayonnaise and dill. The thing which always throws me is that breakfast is identical to supper... I have eaten more cucumbers and tomatoes in the past three weeks than I ever thought possible...

To be fair, they do occasionally have cereal at breakfast. But one of the containers of milk is always hot milk. Strange to me...

But mostly, meals here are marked by an unending supply of fruit juice. I think I'm averaging about six or seven glasses of the stuff a day. Phenomenal.


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Did I mention that we eat our meals in a castle? A real, honest-to-goodness castle. Complete with a ghost -- something about a tragic love affair involving an army officer's wife two-timing him with a relative, maybe a nephew, although I'm not too sure of the translation.

We're told the ghost lives in the top room of the tower. Of course. Where else would a ghost live?


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Miniature models. Of everything. No, not three-foot-tall women without waists strolling down runways -- get that foolish image out of your head. We're talking historical events, important cities, etc.

Exhibit A -- a scale model of the city of Poznan as it existed in the mid-nineteenth century, twenty feet in diameter (the model, not the city), complete with a half-hour narration explaining the history over the previous eight hundred years. Fires, invasions, etc. were illustrated with flashing lights and smoke in the appropriate part of the city -- sadly, there were no animatronic armies or clockwork cows.

Exhibit B -- an outdoor display of various landmarks in the region, all one-twentieth of their real size. Imagine visiting Philadelphia and finding a park with one-twentieth size scale models of historical buildings from along the eastern seaboard -- Independence Hall, the Statue of Liberty, the Capitol, the Empire State Building, the Washington Monument, and so on and so forth.

Exhibits C and D exist, but let's move on...


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Tolya riding a statue of a goat.


No further explanation here.


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On our trip to Poznan, we had dinner in a fancy restaurant (with its own microbrewery). The restaurant was quite nice, the food was very good, but the entertainment was rather surreal. For some reason, this nice classy dining establishment decided to install a large (eight feet or so in width) television screen on the wall, and to show a DVD entitled "Whitney Houston's Greatest Hits".

Sitting in a restaurant in Poland and watching Whitney Houston perform the Star-Spangled Banner at a Super Bowl back in the 90s was almost more than I could take. After the DVD ended, they followed it up with "The Best of Jennifer Lopez". Unreal.

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Perhaps in response to the dinner entertainment, four of the other grad students at the conference decided to take the train to Warsaw (three hours away). I understand they wound up sleeping on park benches and getting harrassed by homeless people, then stumbling around Warsaw in a daze until they took the train back Sunday evening. Two of these intrepid adventurers decided to repeat the experiment the following weekend on our trip to Wroclaw.

Names are withheld to protect the identities of those involved. But mostly because nobody reading this blog will have ever met any of them. Unless Thomas or Nikolay ever read this blog. Wait, I've said too much...


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Did I mention that breakfast consists of ham + cheese + cucumber + tomato sandwiches? This is still my daily dose of surrealism...


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At universities in Poland (at least the one in Wroclaw), mathematicians get a tower. I know of no universities in America where tourists pay admission to climb to the top of the Mathematician's Tower for a view of the city. This needs to change.


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After visiting castles at Kornik and Rogalin (apologies to anyone who may happen to know Polish, but I'm not going to the trouble of figuring out how to get the properly marked-up letters on this keyboard), we stopped on the way back to Bedlewo at the Arkady Fiedler museum. Located in a small town in the middle of a big ol' forest, this museum contains "souvenirs" brought back from Mr. Fiedler's world travels, or at least representing them. The front lawn contains totem poles, a dugout canoe, a sphinx, a pyramid (made of metal and probably inauthentic), and a life-size replica of the Santa Maria. No sails, though, so we couldn't take it for a spin. Inside, one finds pictures, books, and assorted memorabilia adorning the walls, including various tropical beetles, a fifteen-foot-long snakeskin, and a tank of piranhas. We were informed that, for the safety of the curators (Mr. Fiedler's surviving family, who live upstairs), the piranhas are vegetarian. Polish tour guides have a strange sense of humour.

A map on the wall indicates the various destinations of this unique traveller's excursions -- I attempted to date the map by the fact that South Africa, Zimbabwe, and Zambia have no borders drawn between them, while most other borders in the region looked like they do now, but couldn't recall from my limited knowledge of southern African history just when such a state of affairs might have existed, if ever.


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I'm sure other surreal moments will pop into my memory, but that'll do for now. I'll be away from easy computer access until next Wednesday, so until then, ya'll enjoy yourselves, wherever ye may be.

If you feel like looking at some pictures other conference-goers have taken of our various expeditions, some of those are online at http://www.photobucket.com/bedlewo1, and also at /bedlewo2, 3, 4, and 5. Enjoy.

Friday, July 18, 2008

Lynx

Oh really? How fascinating...

This is also fascinating, in a slightly different way. I think we need to see more of this sort of thing. Much more.

Monday, July 14, 2008

Why does the news keep making me angry?

Will somebody please read this article on schools vs. bombs in Pakistan, and this one on torture and terrorism, and tell me how in the name of anything that is holy it is the Democrats that people think will be bad for national security?

If you still have some patience left for that sort of thing, have a look at an op-ed piece by Barack Obama, explaining his current stance on ending the war in Iraq. I won't claim to agree (or disagree) with everything he says -- I don't have the time or inclination to stay that on top of things. Maybe he's spot-on with all of it, maybe he's wildly off base in places, although it all looks pretty good to me. But here's one thing I'm relatively sure of -- he'll be attacked time and again for "flip-flopping" or "changing his position" as regards the war or any number of other issues. Would somebody please tell me when it became the height of good leadership to stick to a position regardless of what new information you have obtained, and what new advice is being given by the experts who are familiar with a situation? Where do some people get this ridiculous notion that there are no circumstances under which the wisest course of action is to change a previously-held policy, or at least to alter it somehow?

Maybe I shouldn't complain about idiotic responses until I've actually had to suffer through hearing them. But then again, I don't think we get Fox News here in Poland...

One more depressing news story -- apparently we've gone from being the golden gleaming land of opportunity to being just another xenophobic society that locks up foreigners by the hundreds. Seriously, folks. Excuse me, waiter? Can you ask the chef to send out a new government, please? This one appears to have gone rotten before it got to the kitchen...

Sorry, I'm in danger of ranting incoherently now and turning into a mindless automaton of anti-ideologist ideology... I have math to go do. I'll post later about the various goings-on here in Bedlewo; there have been various surreal episodes involving Whitney Houston, miniature models of historic landmarks, grad students sleeping on park benches in Warsaw, and an unreasonable number of cucumber and tomato sandwiches. But it's all good times, and I'm continuing to enjoy myself thoroughly (provided I don't read the news), and to learn a lot of math.

They make some dang fine sausages in Poland.

Oh... and also, Happy Bastille Day! Or whatever the correct greeting for the occasion is...

Tuesday, July 08, 2008

Ich bin in Poland

Well. I'm in Poland! The last few days have been somewhat of a whirlwind; I have a couple hours now between the afternoon's last talk and the beginning of supper to decompress for a bit... so let's begin with last Friday.

Last Friday, as any patriotic American (or anyone within earshot of one) knows, was July the Fourth. Thus I found myself following the age-old custom of our country, and eating various forms of grilled meat all day (and hot dogs as well) with a good-sized crowd of fellow revelers. Having sufficiently gorged ourselves, we staggered over to join the throng of several thousand or so surrounding Beaver Stadium to watch the annual State College fireworks show. All of this had two effects on me: the first was disorientation as a result of the fact that the music accompanying the show was being played both by the stadium loudspeakers and by a nearby radio, and that the two sources were about half a second off, which made it awfully hard to take the national anthem as seriously as most Americans would like to; the second effect was to keep me from getting any packing at all done until about 10:30, a bit of a problem since the taxi was due to pick me up at 5:00 a.m. on Saturday morning.

In the end, I finished packing at 12:30, finally fell asleep at 2:30 (heck of a time to get insomnia), and was awoken at 4:30 (just before my alarm went off) by the taxi driver phoning to ask if he could pick me up 10 minutes early, since they were a little understaffed that morning. And so, at 4:50 in the blessed a.m., with rain pouring down, my body running on a grand total of two hours of sleep, and nothing for breakfast but a plastic cup filled with raspberries from the back yard, I left the K-House, with Poland as my destination.

In complete defiance of geographic good sense (and several other forms), my trip from Pennsylvania to Poland began with an eight-hour layover in Detroit. After stumbling through a rather trippy tunnel (potentially drug-induced music coupled with shifting lights on the walls), I wolfed down a slightly more complete breakfast at Burger King, then promptly took a two-hour nap; the Detroit airport gets very high marks in my book for the fact that they have a good number of comfy chairs, complete with footrests, allowing weary grad students some measure of catching up on sleep. They also have a train running from one end of the concourse to the other, one level above the ground floor so that you see it zipping past, back and forth, all day while you sit there and wait. If you're waiting all day.

Having languished in purgatory the Detroit airport long enough to watch one of the Williams sisters beat the other in the Wimbledon final (I think Venus won, but I was fairly hazy at that point), and to read a few dozen pages of Barreira and Pesin's book on nonuniformly hyperbolic dynamics, I finally boarded a plane to Amsterdam. Once we were in the air, I discovered a benefit of having been massively shorted on sleep the night before; despite the fact that the flight only lasted until midnight on Pennsylvania time, I had little trouble convincing my body that it was all right to fall asleep at eight in the evening. Although that might have also had something to do with how confused I was after watching "Solaris" as the in-flight movie. Oh, George Clooney...

And then suddenly we had jumped ahead six hours, the local time was six o'clock, and we were in Amsterdam, landing at Schiphol Airport (whose proper pronunciation makes it a rather unfortunate name as far as English-speakers are concerned, because it's really quite a lovely airport), where the culture shock of Europe could begin to turn up in fits and starts.

First came the washrooms (or whatever one prefers to call them). The first one I entered had an enormous window giving the entire outside world a clear view of the area containing the urinals... of course, since this was on the third floor and the "outside world" consisted of the tarmac where the airplanes drive around, this wasn't much of an issue. More unsettling was the fact that every time I walked into a washroom, it was being cleaned by a female janitor, who remained there, working away, while people came and went, and neither she nor any of the men using the facilities gave any indication that this was at all unusual. Ah well... when in Rome...

My next flight took me to Berlin... now at least things were moving quite decidedly in the right direction (geographically speaking). After a rather lengthy wait for the plane to dock with the terminal (or whatever the proper terminology is), and a further lengthy wait for my luggage (which did arrive eventually, but not before keeping me waiting long enough to be the last one out of the luggage area), I ventured out into Tegel airport, and using my masterful command of the German language (which allowed me to determine that the guy selling bus tickets did, in fact, speak English), procured passage on a bus bound for Berlin Hauptbahnhof -- Berlin's main train station.

Upon arrival at the Hauptbahnhof, I was immediately struck by one way in which this Europe and America differ radically (aside from the presence of large and frequently used train stations) -- bicycles. There were several hundred bicycles parked in the area in front of the train station -- I later observed that it's not uncommon to bring bicycles on trains here (each carriage has a space for about half a dozen bicycles to be hung up at the back). Imagine... you bike to the train station, take your bike with you, and then bike the last mile at the other end... it's so... civilised!

But back to the train station... it seems the world sand castle building championships were going on just down the block, so after buying a train ticket to Poznan, Poland, and getting a bottle of lemonade from the grocery store (more on that momentarily), I wandered over to take a look. A six-Euro admission fee was enough to deter my curiosity, though, given that my train left in half an hour... and I could see some of the sand castles well enough from outside the fence, as most of them seemed to be about three times my height.

More trans-Atlantic differences were made apparent at the train station, though, than just bicycles. It begins with the fact that Europeans appear not to believe in drinking fountains. Any public area which in the U.S. or Canada would be teeming with drinking fountains -- train stations, airports, etc. -- in Berlin at least, was completely bereft of them. Thus, the thirsty traveler is forced to purchase any and all beverages, even if all one wants is a drink of water... at this point I discovered that my German phrasebook was missing a rather important word, which appeared on every bottle of any sort of beverage. Pfand. What in the world is Pfand? Is it "tax"? Is it "refund"? What else would be on any beverage container? A little observation (and a big machine that dispensed money for empty bottles) led me to conclude that it does, in fact, mean "refund"... so one mystery solved.

The fundamental European mystery remains, though, and it is this (at least until I become baffled by something else): Pay bathrooms. I don't get it. I can understand (perhaps) having these in certain places... but in a train station? In an airport? This I don't understand... surely there are better ways to create jobs than to set someone up at the entrance to the washroom with a little sign indicating that they keep it clean and we should pay them 30 Euro-cents to use it? (At least, I think that's what it said -- keeping in mind my linguistic ignorance.)

Putting by bemusement aside, I eventually boarded an eastbound train -- the Berlin-Warsaw express -- for the penultimate leg of my journey, a three-hour ride as far as Poznan. For those of you who have not been on long road trips with me, I have a habit of making playlists on my iPod with the names of the places I'll be going through. So a road trip back to Manitoba might involve playlists named "Ontario", "Wisconsin", "Minnesota", etc. -- for this trip, I had "Amsterdam", "Berlin", and "Poland", all constructed by the ingenious method of letting iTunes pick about 50 songs completely at random from my music collection. As we pulled away from Berlin Hauptbahnhof, I started the "Berlin" playlist, and discovered that the first track was Itzhak Perlman performing the theme from Schindler's List. Hmm.

Any reaction to that coincidence was promptly cast aside by an announcement that we were approaching Berlin Ostbahnhof -- the East Berlin train station -- and the simultaneous sighting of a large Chinese flag flying in front of some building or other out the window of the train. My efforts to avoid a potentially inappropriate internal dialogue ended in failure when the next building bore a large sign proclaiming, "Ming Dynasty". It was a restaurant. I hope.

As we left Berlin, it became apparent that people who speak English cannot keep their seats on trains in continental Europe. Two fellows from Ireland seated near me had to give up their seats when the rightful passengers turned up and pointed out that the Irishmen were, in fact, on the wrong train. Shortly thereafter, a group of tourists (origin unknown, but speaking English) wandered into the carriage looking in vain for their seats. They eventually wandered out of the carriage, to what end I do now know. And finally, I lost my seat (entirely voluntarily) when I discovered that the fellow sitting across from me was traveling back to Warsaw with his family, and they had been seated in several different rows because the train was so full. I traded seats with one of them to make their seating arrangement marginally more contiguous, and promptly fell into a rather incoherent daze for the next two hours. This was Sunday afternoon -- I had slept a total of about six hours since Friday.

At 3:30 on Sunday afternoon, the train arrived in Poznan, erstwhile home of Kazimierz Nowak, who, as the plaque in the train station informed me, rode a bicycle from Algiers to Tunis in the 1930s. This is not a particularly remarkable feat, until you find out that he went via Cape Town...

Such feats being beyond me, I looked around for a waiting area, and failed miserably. There appear to be no chairs in the Poznan train station... so I found a rock out front and sat there for three hours, watching people come and go, listening to the sounds of Polish (of which my pronunciation is improving marginally, but my understanding not at all), and at one point being treated to the sight of an honest-to-goodness hippie van pulling up to the station and unloading some passengers. At least, it was a VW van which appeared to have been decorated with finger paint. I call that a hippie van.

Finally, at 6:00 that evening, a bus pulled up to carry the conference participants to Bedlewo, and I gratefully got on board. As if from nowhere, a dozen or so other conference-goers appeared and boarded the bus as well, despite the failure of my earlier attempt to wander around the train station and identify fellow mathematicians based on their appearance, demeanour, or general aura of... well, I don't really know what. In any case, there we were, and half an hour later, we arrived at Bedlewo, where I took great pleasure and relief in finally being able to shower (I was quite filthy by this point) and eat a meal that did not consist of an overpriced sandwich in an airport somewhere.

The talks began the next morning, and the pace has been somewhat relentless until late this afternoon, as I write this -- there are six mini-courses running right now, each meeting every two days or so, and so a typical day has three or four ninety-minute lectures (of the fast-paced, intense, what's-going-on-here? variety) with some extra discussion in the evenings. I'm enjoying it thoroughly, and also looking forward to the various excursions which are planned -- we'll spend tomorrow afternoon and evening in Poznan, and on Saturday there's a trip to what I'm told was the first capital of Poland, or something along those lines. I don't remember the name at the moment... I'll post more about those trips later. In the meantime, I leave you with one of the lists of Polish phrases I found. Note carefully the choice of which phrases are truly important... after getting the basics out of the way, it goes on to, "You're very attractive"... "Your eyes are like the moon"... and only gets better from there. I was entertained.

Thursday, July 03, 2008

If only these movies were real...

Two gems, courtesy of the interweb -- these aren't particularly new, seeing as how I first saw both of them quite a while ago, but they're still good times.



And, if you still have the stomach for more of that sort of thing:

Sunday, June 29, 2008

Babies. Weeds. Poland.

First things first. I'm going to Poland! This coming Saturday, July 5, at five o'clock in the blessed a.m., I will take a taxi to the University Park airport (unless I can persuade a friend to wake up that early); I will fly from there to Detroit, from Detroit to Amsterdam (after an eight-hour layover), and from Amsterdam to Berlin. In Berlin I will make my way to a train station and go by train to Poznan, Poland, where if all goes well there will be a bus waiting to take me and assorted other conference-goers to Bedlewo for a three-week long summer school and workshop on geometric structures and rigidity in dynamical systems. At the end of all that I'll spend a couple days in Berlin, before flying back here on July 29.

Sadly, though, this does mean that I will miss various goings-on in Ontario; the annual trip to the Point, the annual canoe trip, the annual road trip to who-knows-where with Mr. Penner, and the annual making fun of Art when he loses all his money at poker. But so it goes; at least I'll make it to Art's wedding to hear whatever stories may be told at the reception. Don't let me down, Jamie.

And what post would be complete without a link or two to rather lengthy and quite involved but in my personal opinion eminently worth reading articles from one online or offline news source or another? To that end, I give you babies and weeds. Maybe it's just me, but I kinda like the idea of turning kudzu into biofuel...

Hmm... the spell-checker on Blogger has no problems with "kinda", but flags "biofuel" as a nonword. It also flags "nonword" as a nonword. Maybe my English is broken. I'll try lapsing into pounding the keyboard, and see what that does.

aiargweawawaeyq23u]9asegpaseu]gq23qqF]0\R qtaeteq463y8qw47tauowetj5p

Surprisingly enough, Blogger does not flag that as a misspelling. Very interesting.

I'm done now.

Tuesday, June 24, 2008

Three to get ready...

You know, between this scathing indictment of the current administration's approach to energy independence, and various other articles of his that I've read (like the one on Obama last time), I'm beginning to get the feeling that I could almost start to like Thomas Friedman.

In other news, The Onion continues to be fantastic. This is one of those bits that's funny on account of being ridiculous, but has just enough of an edge to make me shake my head at the way things are in the so-called real world. Thanks to Chris for the link (via Facebook), even if the thing is nearly seven years old by now...

And while we're on the subject of The Onion, someone please tell me that this is for real.

Friday, June 20, 2008

Fun with Matlab

Take a Klein bottle and a pair of scissors; cut a slit all the way around the Klein bottle, and unravel it. What do you get? A Moebius strip! Ah, topology...