Author Archives: Anand Sarwate

for reasons unknown but time will tell

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I spent a good portion of the evening watching two guys waiting for someone who stood them up. I must have been bored, but frankly, the guys were pretty funny, and it was a lot better than doing my homework. I didn’t even need any more coffee to stay awake, which is surprising, given the 3 hours of sleep I got the previous night. Maybe this says something about my personality, but I got a big kick out of their frustration. I guess I’m just a sick bastard. Tomorrow I’ll hang myself.

Apparently the Saudi’s fear a sand shortage. I don’t know how to break it to them, but I don’t think their in much danger of running out. Of course, I’ve never been there, so I don’t really know, but from what I’ve read, they’re pretty full up on sand.

up far too early

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I am up far too early, trying to make my real brain work so I can make the simulated brain in MATLAB that I’ve been working on work, and frankly, I think they’re both completely fucked.

Went to see a reading of Denis Johnson’s new play at Intersection on Monday. The first half was hilarious, almost George F. Walker-esque in its absurdity and level of violence. The second half was much much slower. Some funny lines:

“You were diggin’ that hole like China had a hold of your balls.”

“He was lovin’ her like a monkey on a motor scooter.”

“Poison is undetectable in raw, unpasteurized milk.”

“Want some coffee? It has tequila in it.” “I see the coffee, but not the tequila.” “Oh, curses!”

There was a lot of stuff on mercury poisoning in the play, which is interesting. I think my knowledge of mercury poisoning begins and ends at the Mad Hatter. Who I strangely sympathize with now.

Putting things together

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I think the only reason I would stay in research is if I could find connections between things. I mean, that’s why I like to learn things all the time. Because if I can say “oh, X is like Y”, it’s like I’m forging a new pathway in my brain between X and Y, and to me, that’s a fundamental contribution to human understanding, on par with learning all there is to know about X. I wrote my grad school applications on this, basically, but now I find it even more true, especially after reading 2/3 of Aji and McEliece’s paper on the Generalized Distributive Law. They basically take 10 different algorithms from information theory, artificial intelligence, etc, and show that they are all doing the same thing. It’s pretty amazing, honestly.

That’s not to say that reinventing the wheel is a bad thing — each wheel gives new insight into the means of locomotion. But showing that all wheels are somehow equivalent or the same to me says something really profound. It’s probably why I like theater so much — if you can tell a story to which people can relate, it’s the same as saying “this story is universal in some sense.” I don’t think it’s the same as Great Truths. Maybe these are Little Truths instead.
Harold Clurman might call it a spine for my life. Such as it is at present.

Comics in Journalism; MNDTIS

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Went to a talk by Joe Sacco, a journalist who works in comic book form. It was pretty interesting, especially the way he works and his take on how comics fit in with the kind of journalism he does, telling people’s stories from places like Palestine and Bosnia. It’s a way of reporting that is more indirect than text and less detailed than photography. The artist gets to choose more closely what you focus on while still giving you a multiplicity of interpretations in a single image.

My new digeridoo technique is eminently stoppable at the moment. I just can’t seem to get a consistent sound out of the thing. But I will keep trying, perhaps when my roommates aren’t around so that I don’t drive them insane.

Sometimes you have a conversation with someone which rapidly degenerates, and it becomes time to end, lest it get ugly. At that time, one invariably makes a graceless exit, hurried and enraged. I cannot put into words how annoyed I was. It’s a pity you can’t have your cake (ending the conversation) and eat it too (end on the moral high ground). They will always call you a quitter.

Martingales

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The “martingale” gambling system works as follows: start betting with $1. if you lose, double your bet on the next game. That way, when you win, you recoup all of your losses plus one dollar more. Seems like a foolproof way of beating the house, as long your chance of winning is nonzero, right?

Think again.

Actually, thinking isn’t enough. You have to take a graduate course in theoretical probability, it seems.

Random events in the last month: I saw Much Ado About Nothing at CalShakes, I went to the Radiohead concert with Manu Seth, who had 5th row tix, went home for my brother’s wedding, found an advisor and an office, sang in a concert where I dressed up goth, saw the Gotan Project, and won a raffle that gets me a free pint a day at the campus pub until Summer 2004.

Luna Park

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I went here with Jordan, Kunal, Jhala, and Kevin, so we were seated at a cozy booth in the back. We went a bit nuts with the food — three appetizers and then entrees. And someone ordered dessert. Pigs, all of them.

I had a mojito, which was quite strong, but nothing to write home about. I usually like them with brown sugar and in a tall glass, but these were in tumblers, more gin and tonic style. Jordan ordered some apple martini thing which was no good, and then a pomegranite juice cosmo, which was quite tasty. Then again, I am a sucker for pomegranite juice.

The appetizers were mussels and fries, which were just that, and none too excititing, a sort of ceviche/seafood salsa on wontons, which was delightful, and a small cheese fondue with bread and apples. I can’t quite remember the kind of bread. For an entree I was feeling a little meated-out, having eaten lunch at In-N-Out, so I ordered the ravioli in truffle oil and cream sauce, which was quite tasty if a little light. The bulk of the entrees were “American food,” which I define as a hunk of meat with some vegetables on the side.

The only problem I had with the restaurant was the pricing — everything was slightly more than it should have been, I felt. Of course, I’m not a huge fan of traditional “American food” of the meat-and-potatoes variety, so maybe that’s why I was a bit put off. This would be a good place to take your visiting relatives from Texas or the midwest. It’ll expand their horizons somewhat, but not too far.

Dune Messiah

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by Frank Herbert. This book was so much worse than Dune that it kind of hurt. I mean, it had some important bits in it, and I found the mentat-assassin timebomb of Duncan Idaho a pretty intriguing philosophical problem, but not enough in itself to recommend the book. Usually I’m a sucker for series, but this time I’m not going to go on to Children of Dune.

Regularity

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I went to the Bear’s Lair, which is the student pub here (brighter than the Thirsty and more zealous about carding), and had a pint of porter while reading neuroscience papers. I rather like the place in the early evening hours — I think I’ll go there more often, maybe become a regular. The music is pretty good, and when it’s not so crowded it’s quite pleasant, like an uncrowded coffeeshop that serves beer.

On the walk home I had a really fun conversation with Adam about comedy, which made me miss him all the more. Of course, I wasn’t hit by a car on the way back, which would have probably made me miss him even more than that, but that was probably a good thing, all told.

Neuroscience is an odd field — reading papers about how they anaesthetized a cat with halothane, dilated its pupils, mechanically fixed its eyeball, and flashed lights and white noise in front of it while measuring neural responses is simultaneously revolting and intriguing to me. The experiments carried out were approved of under the humane treatment of animals guidelines for UC Berkeley, but what does that mean, exactly?

Math, aftermath

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Now that the dust has cleared from the housewarming party, I have to say it was a rousing success. We will clearly have to throw more parties. And I danced some, even. That was fun.

I find myself wanting to learn Bhangra now, not because I like the music particularly, but because it seems like something completely absurd to do at parties. Is this just parading my own ethnic identity monkey-in-a-zoo style? I think so. But then again, so is doing ridiculous accents, and I like to do ridiculous accents.

And even though I’m supposed to hate Stanford (or as they say at Berkeley, “Stanfurd”), this site (courtesy of MeFi) is doing wonders for reducing my productivity. The amount of math out there that I would like to know is so vast, and the amount that I know is so little in comparison, that I despair sometimes. That’s why it’s good to have smart friends.

Dark Days

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I saw part of the documentary Dark Days last night, due to Geeta’s mad shopping spree at Amoeba. It was really interesting, but I got too tired to finish it. It’s all about the homeless who live in the NY subway tunnels, how they make that place their home, and how they survive in New York. It was a real eye-opener, especially because I’m in a place with more homeless people than I’ve seen outside of India.

On the complete other end of the spectrum, Cowboy Bebop is winning the “best anime series” award for me. On the other hand, I’m not an expert, and have no plans on becoming one. But it’s damn good. Especially the music.

Last weekend I saw a play called Thirst, by Neena Beber, who used to write for Clarissa Explains It All. A loose adaptation of a Henry James story, it tried to say a lot about art and the desire to possess things, in a very theatrical way. As Cheveda put it, it was a play that you could only really see that theater company doing in that space. It reminded me of the not-so-thrilling productions I’ve seen at Aurora. Maybe I’m alone here, but I want to go to theater that picks me up and throws me against the wall, breaking my ribs. Either violently or playfully, but I need to sit up and take notice of things. Of course, seeing new plays is always good, I think, because you learn different things than you do from old plays.

But the best of all is when they teach an old play new tricks.