Gioia De Cari in "Truth Values"

Gioia is a self described “recovering mathematician” who has a great gift for writing, acting, and singing. (Oh, did I happen to mention she is a soprano?) Her play was unexpectedly funny and enjoyable. When I first received an email about it, I expected a litany of complaints about how hard it is for a woman to make it in math and science (largely male-dominated fields). But it wasn’t and yet it was, at the same time. It is said, “there is no story so good that it can’t be spoiled in the telling”. With Gioia, she had a fantastic story and told in the best manner possible, as a monologue/mono-act by the author/actress herself. It was funny, and it was sad, and best of all, no matter who you are, you couldn’t help but empathize with her. It offered a scathing and insightful look at an academic (sub)culture that was born out of the incidental male-dominance in mathematics (and sciences) and continues to serve as a deterrent for women to succeed in these fields. But Gioia wasn’t complaining, she was just holding up a mirror; and to ensure that the walls of prejudice do not block the message, she gift wrapped it with some irrepressible humor which was a treat to watch.

Incidentally, Gioia wrote the play as a response to former Harvard President Lawrence Summers’ (yes, the same Larry Summers who Obama said “did a heckuva job” on the Daily Show) statement that women are less represented than men in the sciences because there is a ”greater variance in intelligence among men than women, and that this difference in variance might be intrinsic.” [source] Not surprisingly, that controversy contributed to his resignation the following year.

The performance schedule for Truth Values is available here. If you get a chance to attend it, then do not miss out! I promise you that you will not be disappointed.

I close this post with a video by Gioia discussing her play:

www.youtube.com/watch?v=zwt7KZHfKKc

One is forced to wonder: why is Pat Robertson saying such things knowing fully well that he is hurting people through his statements and hate? There has to be a logical explanation for it, and I think I have found one. My explanation is based on three important assumptions: (a) Pat Robertson believes that Jesus died for everyone’s sins, (b) he believes that the end times is near ^[1], and (c) he is a capitalist^[2].

Now, given that Pat Robertson is a capitalist, he must believe that the capitalist economic principles can be applied everything in life, including sin. So according to him, there must be some smallest unit of sin (arguably the smallest unit corresponds to the quality of sin in the ‘original sin‘), and also that Jesus’s death is worth only so many (finite) units of sin. Given that the end times are around the corner — being a shrewd capitalist one needs to get the best ‘bang for the buck’, so to speak — Pat Robertson probably wants to make Jesus’s death more worthwhile by sinning as much as he can so that the quota of sins for which Jesus died may be used up.

After all, every ‘true’ Christian’s goal is to make Jesus’s death worthwhile (in that Jesus’s death should not be in vain). So, it turns out that Pat Robertson is actually out sinning to make Jesus’s death count for something! Now he also knows that you sin then you will probably go to hell, and yet he pursues this path of validate Jesus’s crucifixion. Could there possibly be a greater sacrifice?

^[1]In fact, in the 70s Pat Robertson has predicted that the world would end in 1982!

^[2]This is more of an inference, than an assumption, based on the fact that Pat Robertson is a businessman, owns a broadcasting station, and sells books for money.

“I figured out size does matter in the canine brain. Bill – golden retriever – very smart animal. When he was a puppy and I had to potty train him, if he pooped on the living room carpet, I stuck his nose in it. Three time later, he figured out ‘Oh, I am not supposed to crap here!’. Next two dogs, the same thing.

Now the little brain-dead Chihuahua comes along. She poops on the living room carpet, I stick her nose in it; three times later she thinks ‘Oh, I am not supposed to crap ever!’….. And that’s why they shake.”

The TSA did pretty much the same thing. On December 26th 2009, Umar Farouk Abdul Mutallab tried to blow up a Northwest Airlines plane as it was preparing to land in Detroit. The usual noises followed ranging from blaming Obama for the incident to demanding that all Muslims be made to go through special security checks.

This incident could have been prevented if Umar Farouk Abdul Mutallab was not allowed to board the plane in the first place. All the warning signs were there: Umar’s father had warned the CIA about Umar,  anti-terror chiefs were warned five months ago that an al-Qaeda cell in Yemen was plotting a deadly attack using “The Nigerian”. Disregarding both these (vital) pieces of information, here is someone who bought one-way tickets from Nigeria to Yemen to the USA paying only cash and with no baggages to check-in. This should have raised suspicions, and he should have been singled out for additional security and through additional scanners.

Metaphorically speaking, TSA pooped on the living room carpet and the Nigerian stuck their nose into it! One would expect a rational response to be better mechanisms to profile passengers, not according to race or religion (which seems to be what all the rage is about), but according to passenger behavior. In this case, someone on the “alert list”, paying cash for a one-way transcontinental flight, with no check-in baggage would qualify as suspicious behavior. That would be saying “Oh, I am not supposed to crap here!”.

Instead, the TSA chooses to think “I am not supposed to crap ever!” and decides to put ALL passengers through additional security increasing [Bangkok Post, EUObserver, NY Times].

My office mate does have the right to complain, and most likely the issue will be taken up with our adviser, the American, and of course she’ll side with my office mate (Since they are both members of NATO, and war on terror on what not). Since Pakistan got the F-16s from the US, my office mate will get better equipment for research. Now its my turn to go crying to someone else. And who would that be? The Russian in my committee of course! Russia and India go way back! He’ll back me up by giving me some of this equipment for my research.

This is almost too perfect :-) I think we are going to have loads of fun this year. Oh, and there’s research too… eh… kinda. ;-)

As has been duly pointed out by the CATS Project Founder in the comment, no email was sent. It is a page on the CATS website. My comment still stands though…. This is still really funny! :)
This was an email sent to a group of investors by Cognizo Technologies (apparently). One of the investors forwarded it to me. You can help but chuckle at this one :)

Investors

CATS has been a self funded / organically grown project of Cognizo Technologies. We are not really looking for any funding. That said, if you are an investor, AND understand the space, AND understand open source, AND just plain and simple…get it, please do call us.

Please just don’t ask for a business plan. If after browsing this website and reading about CATS, you are still looking for a business plan….ahemm….you are not exactly the kind of help we are looking for.

We are always looking to meet new people so do feel free to contact us and introduce yourself.

The first incident happened last Sunday, August 19th. We (me and my homies), went to a Mexican restaurant for a late dinner. It was 9 or so in the evening. Behind one of our table was a table with four people. They ordered 4 iced teas and some chips, or something really inexpensive. After they were done, just got up and walked out; they walked straight into a cop at the door. A few minutes later the cop asked they waitress to come out. At this point I was concern for the waitress. The alcohol laws in Texas are very stringent. Its the wait staff’s responsibility to make sure that alcohol ordered by someone over 21 is not given to a minor. I think its absurd, but I digress.

Coming back to the story, I was concern that the waitress was being called for in alcohol abuse related mishap and she’d be handcuffed soon. She didn’t return for another 15 minutes or so. We finished our dinner, paid, and walked to see the four guys who were behind the table trying to explain away to the cop.

As it turns out, this crowd of four imbeciles have a history of walking out on restaurant tabs. In fact, they had done this twice at this restaurant already, and were stupid enough to try it again the third time. I guess third time’s the charm. So when these morons showed up at the restaurant that night, the manager was quick to call the cops and have the cops wait for these guys to get out. Sure enough, the guys didn’t pay, yet again, and tried to walk out only to be apprehended by the police officer. How stupid do you have to be to think you could get away with it again!

The second incident was even more moronic. This happened at the shopping mall (there is only one in town) on Monday, August 20th. A girl and her 8-month pregnant friend walk into a shoe store at the mall. One of the sales girl there overhears one of the girls say ‘distract him’ to another. So now everyone in the store knows what they are up to. Sure enough, they see the shoplifting, and the salesman who was servicing the girls runs after them to stop them before they are lost in the crowd. He finds them at a clothing store and brings them back. In the mean time the mall security and the police are there to take the statement and slap a ticket for shoplifting.

As they interrogate the two, it comes to light that they have been to two other stores in the mall already, shoplifted there, and were trying to make a third steal (like I said, third time’s the charm). So the managers of the other two stores were called in, and while the store managers were being questioned, one of the girls (the one who was not pregnant) gives them the slip was gets away from the shoe store.

For starts, I cannot understand why you would try to run away from the police when they have your friend already, and will get to you one way or another. Secondly, when you get away what do you try to do? You try to get the hell outta the area. But this girl, I guess, has a blond episode, and so she goes back to the store that she shoplifted from before and tries to steal again! I guess she was trying for that third elusive strike (third time’s the charm, remember!). Well, she was caught again :)

In the meantime, the cops realize that she has given them the slip. They then turn the heat on the pregnant accomplice, warning her of dire consequences if she were try so much as move a finger. Until now, the plan was to give the girls a ticket — a slap on the wrist — and let them go. But now, this has become a felony, followed by obstruction of justice, and resisting arrest. This girl is in way more trouble than she realizes.

I just don’t get it. We you are trying to get away, you are trying to get away! Why would stop to steal some more? Especially at a store where you stole from just a few hours ago, and the manager of the store has been informed of this!

Like I said before, it is amazing how wrong Darwin can be sometimes. We have got to find a way to weed these stupid genes out before they annihilate our species, by having the entire human population walk over a cliff coz’ they thought they’d fly if they just flapped their arms hard enough!

Source: http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/sfo/301345524.html

I simply had to share this. This is worth a thousand laughs!!

Advice from an ER doctor to drug seekers

Date: 2007-03-27, 9:56AM PDTOK, I am not going to lecture you about the dangers of narcotic pain medicines. We both know how addictive they are: you because you know how it feels when you don’t have your vicodin, me because I’ve seen many many many people just like you. However, there are a few things I can tell you that would make us both much happier. By following a few simple rules our little clinical transaction can go more smoothly and we’ll both be happier because you get out of the ER quicker.The first rule is be nice to the nurses. They are underpaid, overworked, and have a lot more influence over your stay in the ER than you think. When you are tempted to treat them like shit because they are not the ones who write the rx, remember: I might write for you to get a shot of 2mg of dilaudid, but your behavior toward the nurses determines what percent of that dilaudid is squirted onto the floor before you get your shot.The second rule is pick a simple, non-dangerous, (non-verifiable) painful condition which doesn’t require me to do a four thousand dollar work-up in order to get you out of the ER. If you tell me that you headache started suddenly and is the ‘worst headache of your life’ you will either end up with a spinal tap or signing out against medical advice without an rx for pain medicine. The parts of the story that you think make you sound pitiful and worthy of extra narcotics make me worry that you have a bleeding aneurysm. And while I am 99% sure its not, I’m not willing to lay my license and my families future on the line for your ass. I also don’t want to miss the poor bastard who really has a bleed, so everyone with that history gets a needle in the back. Just stick to a history of your ‘typical pain that is totally the same as I usually get’ and we will both be much happier.

The third rule (related to #2) is never rate your pain a 10/10. 10/10 means the worst pain you could possibly imagine. I’ve seen people in a 10/10 pain and you sitting there playing tetris on your cell phone are not in 10/10 pain. 10/10 pain is an open fracture dangling in the wind, a 50% body surface deep partial thickness burn, or the pain of a real cerebral aneurysm. Even when I passed a kidney stone, the worst pain I had was probably a 7. And that was when I was projectile vomiting and crying for my mother. So stick with a nice 7 or even an 8. That means to me you are hurting by you might not be lying. (See below.)

The fourth rule is never ever ever lie to me about who you are or your history. If you come to the ER and give us a fake name so we can’t get your old records I will assume you are a worse douchetard than you really are. More importantly though it will really really piss me the fuck off. Pissing off the guy who writes the rx you want does not work to your advantage.

The fifth rule is don’t assume I am an idiot. I went to medical school. That is certainly no guarantee that I am a rocket scientist I know (hell, I went to school with a few people who were a couple of french fries short of a happy meal.) However, I also got an ER residency spot which means I was in the top quarter or so of my class. This means it is a fair guess I am a reasonably smart guy. So if I read your triage note and 1) you list allergies to every non-narcotic pain medicine ever made, 2) you have a history of migraines, fibromyalgia, and lumbar disk disease, and 3) your doctor is on vacation, only has clinic on alternate Tuesdays, or is dead, I am smart enough to read that as: you are scamming for some vicodin. That in and of itself won’t necessarily mean you don’t get any pain medicine. Hell, the fucktards who list and allergy to tylenol but who can take vicodin (which contains tylenol) are at least good for a few laughs at the nurses station. However, if you give that history everyone in the ER from me to the guy who mops the floor will know you are a lying douchetard who is scamming for vicodin. (See rule # 4 about lying.)

The sixth and final rule is wait your fucking turn. If the nurse triages you to the waiting room but brings patients who arrived after you back to be treated first, that is because this is an EMERGENCY room and they are sicker than you are. You getting a fix of vicodin is not more important than the 6 year old with a severe asthma attack. Telling the nurse at triage that now your migraine is giving you chest pain since you have been sitting a half hour in the waiting area to try to force her into taking you back sooner is a recipe for making all of us hate you. Even if you end up coming back immediately, I will make it my mission that night to torment you. You will not get the pain medicine you want under any circumstances. And I firmly believe that if you manipulate your way to the back and make a 19 year old young woman with an ectopic pregnancy that might kill her in a few hours wait even a moment longer to be seen, I should be able to piss in a glass and make you drink it before you leave the ER.

So if you keep these few simple rules in mind, our interaction will go much more smoothly. I don’t really give a shit if I give 20 vicodins to a drug-seeker. Before I was burnt out in the ER I was a hippy and I would honestly rather give that to ten of you guys than make one person in real pain (unrelated to withdrawal) suffer. However, if you insist on waving a flourescent orange flag that says ‘I am a drug seeker’ and pissing me and the nurses off with your behavior, I am less likely to give you that rx. You don’t want that. I don’t want that. So lets keep this simple, easy, and we’ll all be much happier.

Sincerely,
Your friendly neighborhood ER doctor

It started with my uncle’s return from a US business trip. He reported back that in U.S., people take a liberal view of sex, and its common for people to have sex before marriage. My mother ok with it along with the caveat that since we in India have a different value system, the Indians who go there are not likely to indulge in sex outside/before marriage. As luck would have it, a double whammy followed very quickly!

My mother’s first cousin, and American citizen, dispelled my mother’s illusion. He told her that he has known many Indians to indulge in casual sex. That had my mother a fair bit concern. But the final nail was yet to be hammered.

One of my uncle’s pit stops en route his business trip was my apartment. Yup, that’s right, I hosted him over a weekend. From the weekend stay, he happened to get the idea that I was dating someone. Now, instead of being honest about it and talking to me first, he chose to go up to my mom and tell her. Now this was the final nail, and guess who has to suffer: me!

My mother is extremely sneaky when it comes to confronting people on issues. She never approaches the issue directly, its always along the side. She started with how beautiful my apartment was, and that she saw the photographs that my uncle took of me. Then she went on to talk about how weak I looked, and that I should take better care of myself. And very quickly she went for the kill.

She jokingly referred to my uncle’s suspicion of me dating someone. She followed that with stories of how people with bad’ character enjoy no respect, no matter how successful they are.I concurred, and I said, “yeah, I know many people who don’t think twice about lying to close a deal, or cheating someone else of their hard earned money to get themselves a few extra pennies.” She seemed confused, her tone betrayed her frustration that I hadn’t understood what she was talking about. Slowly it dawned on me that her idea of `bad’ character was all about pre-marital sex. I was a little flabbergasted by her attitude, but had little choice but indulge her.

She immediately came back to my uncle’s suspicions and confronted me. I was taken aback by her insinuation. I didn’t know where to begin! It was next to impossible to shout across the large chasm of a generation gap between us. Not for her though, she seemed generous with words on this one.

She went on to tell me that I had done everything she wanted me to do, and it would be a crying shame if I slipped on this last step. I almost choked on that. Did everything that she wanted me to do! That was a load of bullshit. So when was I supposed to do something that I wanted to do? Apparently never. Her next concern was of what people would say if whispers of `bad’ character were to float around.

So there it was, the reason for all this anxiety, it was all about what people would say. That is, in fact, the reason for everything that my mother did in her life actually. Sad, but true.

And her next argument was that she has the idea of what kind of girl she wanted me to marry (you see, though its my life, its never about me!), and that it would do her a great in justice if I had `bad’ character.
After that I tuned out, deliberately. I had bigger things to worry about then my mom’s remorseless ranting. As I was in active listening mode, I picked up on something she said. She said that its time she had to the talk with my brother too. Holy shit! I gotta warn him! So long folks, see you next time ’round.

They walk up to me and ask me if I would be interested in a ‘spritual’ survey. All my doubts were dispelled at that moment, and I said to myself ‘Boys, get ready to sit around for a long time. I have over an hour and half at my disposal I couldnt have asked for better entertainment’. They start with some harmless questions like do you believe in god, are u religious etc. But I knew it was coming, and so I waited. One of them asked me ‘Do you believe in Christ?’ I knew the gun was fired, and the kids were amatures. This was going to be a fun hour.

Kids: ‘Are u a christian?’
Me: ‘No’
Kids: ‘Have you read the bible?’
Me: ‘Yes’
Kids: ‘I really respect you for having read the bible, even though you are not christian.’
Me: ‘I have read hindu, buddist, and some Baha’i scriptures as well. Have you?’
Kids, slightly confused: ‘uhhh… no. We have read the bible’
Kids: ‘Do you think Jesus Christ was sent by god?’
Me: ‘Yes, just like Moses, Abraham, Mohammad Prophet, Buddha, Bahaulla and many others’
This was definitely not going the way they expected it to. They try a different approach.
Kids: ‘Do you think bible is the word of god?’
Me: ‘Yes’
Kids: ‘What do you think it really means when Jesus says ‘I am god’ in the bible?’
Me: ‘It simply means that what he has to say are words of god, and not his as a human in flesh and blood.’
Kids: ‘So you dont think he is god?’
Me: ‘Its metaphorical, a lot of bible is. They are not to be taken literally.’

They were stumped at this point. I dont think it had ever occured to them that a lot of what is written in a scripture could be more than that meets the eye, and that it could carry a meaning other than the obvious. I had the luxury of having read Joseph Campbell. This was an uneven match. I guess the kids were even feeling intimidated by my rebuttal, so they decided to go for the juglar and fight it out… it was bad move.

Kids: ‘Let us tell you what we believe in. We believe that bible is the word of god, and Jesus Christ is god himself. The only way to heaven is through him, and no one else, no other religion’
I raised my eye brows.
Me: ‘Are you telling me that anyone who does follow christianity will go to hell?’
Kids: ‘Yes. We believe that christ in the only true god, and all other religions are misguiding’

That was it. This was not something I was going to tolerate. I have no qualms with people preaching their religion or their ideology, but to call other religions a sham, deceit is where I draw the line. No more defensive arguments. I went on the offensive.

Me: ‘Why so? What does bible say about it?’
Kids: ‘Jesus says that there will be people after him who will claim to be prophets, but we shouldnt be misled by them.’
Me: ‘True enough, but does he say anyone and everyone who claims to bring the word of god is fake? Or did he mean that there may be many heretics that one should be wary of?’

They are stumped again. Obviously they havent really tried to understand the bible, I almost feel sorry for them. Ego is a funny thing, it doesnt let you give in even when you know you have lost. They try to keep the fight, feebly so.

Kids: ‘Other religions like Islam are in direct conflict with Christianity. One cant be both.’

They fell straight into the trap. This was too easy.

Me: ‘Have u read Quoran?’
Kids: ‘No’
Me: ‘Then how can you denounce someting that u havent read, and how can you claim that it is in direct conflict with christianity?’
The kids then went on about how Mohammad’s life was mostly militaristic whereas jesus was all abt peace and preached the path of non violence and so on. This was check and mate.
Me: ‘Going by your arguement, the very people who protect you liberty, the american soldiers who are risking their life in Iraq are not following christianity, and so will have to go to hell. Does your religion abandon its own soldiers to damnation?’

They didnt expect this sort of attack, and were in way armed to defend it.

Kids: ‘It depends on the situation…’
Me: ‘Exactly… why is it so hard to believe that the situation Mohammad lived in, warrented one?’

Kids: ‘But look at osama bin laden…’
Me: ‘Look at the spanish inquisition’

It was game over. They knew it.
Kids: ‘I guess we dissagree on this one. Let us just tell you what we think. It is no way to say that you are wrong’
Me: ‘I think you have already told me what you think. Is there anything more?’
They kids said something more abt christianity and jesus being god and stuff, thanked me for their time and left.

There was also an argument about christianity being the sole truth, and I was arguing abt equality of religions and incompleteness of each of them in isolation and stuff, but I dont remember where they fit in the excerpt above.

I cant help but feel sorry for the kids. Illusion of enlightenment in their ignorance.

Now that I have sacrilegiously butchered Chaos Theory, lets go back to what this blog post is supposed to be about.

It wouldnt be exaggeration, though inaccurate, to say that I havent been home (my apartment), for over two weeks now, it has been over two weeks of vacation. It was supposed to be a well deserved break, but I find myself saying “What have I done to deserve this?”. A break by definition is supposed to last for a short period of time… then again, short by definition is subjective. So, for me, right here, right now is the limit, the boundary of what I consider a short period of time. As the ‘break’ beings to last longer, it demands reclassification, as it ceases to be a break any more. To me that reclassification is Bohemia. A break from routine is becoming a break from reality. I realized that it is not a very smart idea to spend over a week in an island that has nothing to offer but the company of other people. That’s pretty much what South Padre Island is. There is nothing beautiful inherent on this island. People go here because everyone else goes there. If you were to take all human inhabitation of the island for a brief moment in time and freeze it, the vulgarity of the place would be stark and apparent. One would detest the place of what it has become. I guess vegas has streched the limits of how we much we can endure and how carnal and beastly man’s vulgarity can be. I have, but seen a glimpse of what it is. I but tasted the pleasure, swallowed a mouthful and spit out the rest of it.

And I sit here, longing to go back home, longing to go back to life, back to routine, back to a place from where I know I can move ahead. I sit here, at brownsville airport awaiting my elusive flight to take me back to where I came from. I sit here, half way between the gutter and the stars.