Marriage

      Hello, a few of you might think I forgot to post a blog this week, due to some sort of memory lapse on my part. However, as you can clearly see, I did post a blog last week. Urm, this week. So the memory lapse is clearly on your part for forgetting I'd already done the post, silly you.
      Anyway, today's post is about marriage. Yesterday (wow, it was only yesterday? Feels like it was a week ago) my brother got married, so well done to him, and commiserations to his new wife.
      So, marriage, is it good? The short answer, as with all my blog posts, is how the bloody hell should I know? But, to make this post more interesting we're going to suspend disbelief for a bit and pretend I have the slightest clue I know what I'm talking about, just like every other week. So, marriage. Marriage is an important part of our culture and is often considered a logical part of almost everyone's life, although this has changed a lot in recent years. The main question about marriage is why, as in why do people get married? The obvious answer is to express their love for one another, perhaps before the eyes of God or whoever else's eyes they want to do it before. And, as cynical as I'd like to come off as, this is a perfectly valid reason. It is a rather cyclical reason, of course, as it only expresses a person's love because we say it expresses a person's love, so it's kind of pointless in that respect, which is why many people are against it. To those people I say chill out. Of course it's a pointless ritual with only the importance we imbue it with, but if you've got a problem with that you're not going to do to well with any of this love stuff.
      I guess my point here is that the fact that marriage is essentially irrational doesn't make it a poor way of expressing love, it makes it the perfect, most poetic way of expressing it, because, not wanting to sound like a rubbish romance writer, love is irrational. I don't just mean that it makes you do irrational things, I mean that love, as well as all other emotions, is irrational by their very nature. In fact, they are more than just irrational, because that would imply their exists something similar that could be rational. Without any sort of grand plan or meaning of life agreed upon no action or emotion can possibly be even slightly rational, because rationality must be defined against some sort of aim.
      I think what I'm saying, in a very roundabout way, is that not only is marriage silly and brilliant, but so is basically everything, so let's all just be chill about it, okay?

Apples and oranges

      So for reasons I'm not at liberty to explain, which have nothing to do with drink, this post might make little sense. Basically, oranges are orange, whereas apples are not. Stay tuned for other exciting facts.

Freedom

      I recently finished reading The Age of Reason by Sartre. I'm telling you this because if I don't tell you that I'm reading Sartre you won't know I'm reading Sartre, and a pretentious feeling of intellectually superior douche-baggery is half the fun of reading Sartre. On the subject of shamelessly bigging myself up, I'm also reading a book called Quantum Computation and Quantum Information, albeit very slowly.
      Anyway, now that you fully realise I'm all smart and with philosophy and stuff (and not at all one of those long haired pricks who think reading a couple of texts means they're suddenly enlightened), I'll get to the subject of today's post, which is freedom. Anyway, just so I don't look like a total dick I'll explain that The Age of Reason has a central theme of freedom, so I wasn't just randomly mentioning it. Quantum Computation and Quantum Information on the other hand has nothing to do with freedom, mentioning that was just me being a dick.
      So, what is freedom? Wiktionary defines it as "The state of being free", so that's not hugely useful. It goes on with some more definitions, but they're just as useful. I have always aspired to be as free as possible, particularly from responsibilities. But does the act of avoiding constrictions of my freedom in itself constrict my freedom? Urm, probably. You see, if I avoid marriage due to the implied responsibilities then I am less free than someone who does not avoid marriage. However, existentialism states that we are, in fact, profoundly free and hence responsible. One is always free to walk in front of traffic, staple one's toes together or lick the floor of a public toilet. We don't because it would be bloody stupid, though I don't think that's the phrasing existentialists tend to go with. But as bodies who have existence more fundamentally than essence, we are truly free. But being free to do anything means that not doing something is as much of an action as doing nothing, so avoiding marriage (and hence depriving some metaphorical poor person of my awesomeness) is an action that I am just as responsible for as if I did not.
      So, I might have got a tad lost somewhere in the middle, but basically you're free and responsible, but mostly you're free from having to read this train wreck of a post I'm responsible for.

Clubbing

      So I recently went to a nightclub, or discotheque, or whatever the youngsters are calling them these days. I did this mainly because I'm a big believer in the idea of trying everything once (except incest and morris dancing), including paying money to enter a building with overpriced drinks. My first point I'm going to make is that you people without sensory overload issues are missing out; nightclubs are like shots of distilled autistic awesomeness. Secondly, I've always been a big fan of dancing. Well, I say dancing. For those of you who have not been privileged enough to witness the splendour that is me dancing a good approximation is a gerbil on speed; standing on a trampoline and who thinks The Exorcist was a dance instruction film. I should also point out that to fully get into the whole "dance like no one's watching" thing, I find it useful to pull my hair onto my face so that as far as I'm aware no one is watching, adding to the whole look of crazy. This brings me to my final point, which is about how I enjoy making people ask questions about humanity, society and themselves. Basically I like "freaking out the establishment", or, more accurately, "freaking out whoever happens to be standing near me". As it turns out, nightclubs are perfect for this, as they are basically buildings dedicated to conformity. People dress the same way, listen to the same music and follow the same social code, which is great fun.
      All in all I was left with the feeling that most of the other patrons didn't understand how hilarious the whole situation was. But I am happy to have experienced it, for, as is oft repeated by many a young woman, inebriated and in search of an excuse for immoral behaviour, YOLO.

Olympics

      So I was considering doing a post on the formula for speed dating, or my escapades through Cambridge with two Scottish men and a hipster bartender, but I fear you'd probably get a bit bored, and they really are the kind of stories that work best a single line, to encourage mystery. So instead I'm going to talk about why the Olympics aren't really that great. I would have done this during the Olympics, but I'll probably be spending too much time enjoying them to be a hypocrite.
      So, the Olympics, while not exactly awful in all respects, are a tad dull and not really very nice. They foster the idea that accomplishments are all or nothing, you're either the best in the world or you've wasted your time. The types of accomplishments, while difficult, are actually useless. The ability to run fast is not helping anyone and, more importantly, it's bloody boring to watch. It's impressive, it's just nine seconds of a guy running fast is hardly entertainment at its finest. Although I think if we had brought back tug of war that it would be worth watching.
      In retrospect, the speed dating formula would probably be more interesting as a post.

Chaos

      One of the most important theories of mathematics developed in modern times is chaos theory. Chaos theory is important from an anthropic point of view for two main reasons: firstly it means our actions are hugely influential and secondly it means our choices are essentially meaningless. To understand these two seemingly contradicting statements lets look at the basics of chaos theory. Like, really just the basics, I've got less than four minutes to go here.
      So chaos theory states that in a complex system small differences in initial conditions can make large differences. Take the classic example of a butterfly flapping its wings, altering weather conditions and causing a hurricane half way across the world. The same is true for every human action, including basically anything you're doing right now. Your actions right now will completely determine the state of the world ten years from now. So you're basically a god. Kudos.
      Of course the flip side of all this is that your direct actions have a tendency to get lost in the chaotic noise of your actions. This raises philosophical issues about the nature of morality and whether it is even relevant. I could discuss the philosophy of this until the cows come home (by the way, what's up with that saying? Most cows are basically always home, surely?), but what it really boils down to is your choices do have instant and direct impacts, so just don't be a knob and you won't go far wrong.
      So, that's a crash course in chaos theory and ethics, all in three paragraphs. Not bad.

So, yeah...

      I have an exam tomorrow, so really should go to sleep. The good news is that this is my last exam, so next week I won't use this excuse and there will be brand new content. Which will, most likely, take the form of a new excuse.

Lego

      So, I've spent too long coming up with a topic. This will no doubt shock you. So anyway, Lego is awesome, don't you think. It gives you the power to build nearly anything, while also highlighting the fact that most people, when given the chance to build anything, will build a wall and then get a tad bored when they can't think of anything else. It is also a little known fact that the invention of swearwords was only necessary shortly after the invention of Lego, combined with barefoot walking.
      So yeah, Lego. Everyone loves Lego, including you. I really didn't get as far as thinking of a point to this post, but never mind.

Nothing

      I really have no topic to write about, and due to an exam tomorrow I also lack the energy to even pretend to try to think of one. So, yeah. At least this time I have some sort of excuse, that's something right?

Public Holidays: An Explanation for Foreigners

      Like all English people I have the next two days off, although I don't really due to being on half term anyway. I'll try to explain to my non-English readers, who have probably stumbled here by accident, the cause of this. The first day is a celebration of May, known as Mayday. This is a custom for us English folk were we celebrate the beginning of May based solely on the fact it is May, and we've survived another year so we get another May. This is traditionally celebrated by getting children to do a dance of worship around a large phallus, while decorating the majestic dong with bright covered ribbons. We do this to ward off years when we don't dance around giant penis things for fun. This year's celebration of May is extra special, as it is in fact in June. This might seem strange to you non-English people, but rest assured it makes perfect sense. The celebration of May has been moved to June for a reason even more bizarre than the annual dick-pole dance. You see, there is a woman who has owned an old hat for 60 years. Now, I'm a big fan of hats, they keep your head warm and make you look cool, so I'm glad someone has finally recognised their importance. However, even I find it a bit of a stretch to mark 60 years of hat ownership with a day off. Not only does the hat get an ownership birthday, but it has been decided it is a nice enough hat to feature on all of my money, with it's owner. Again, big hat fan here, but still. Just once I'd like to look at a £5 note and see a picture of someone who has owned a sock for a while.
      So, there you have the complete guide to why no one in England will be doing anything for the next couple of days.

(Edit: It has been brought to my attention that the Mayday bank holiday was at its usual time this year, which you'd think I'd remember. The moved bank holiday is usually on the last Monday in May, where we celebrate the fact we can all stop dancing around a penis for another year.)

Posters

      Have you ever considered the fact that posters are the most bloody ridiculous product in the world? You go to the shop, choose something with an image of something you like, then you go home and put it on your wall. So you can look at it and think "yes, I like this thing." Seriously, it's fairly pointless wearing a t-shirt with your likes on it (he types, wearing a Jack Daniel's t-shirt, one of four he owns) just so you can identify yourself to other likers of that thing, but when you hang your likes on your wall you might be going a bit far. Are you concerned you might forget that you like that thing that you like? Perhaps you're concerned prospective sexual partners might be repelled if they don't see at least one Bob Marley poster in your room that lacks a single reggae album.
      Now it could be argued (rather correctly) that you're actually hanging the emotion associated with branding on your wall. For example Jack Daniel's spend millions on being seen as just the right amount of decadent. Not having enough money or social skills to come off as decadent wherever I go I decide that wearing a shirt that proclaims "I am decadent and excessive, honest" will suffice. This is to give our desired image to everyone else, while really I'm just letting everyone else know I own a JD t-shirt, so I'm probably a bit of a knob. But when we buy posters the intended audience is ourselves. We pay money to try and convince ourselves we are the kind of people we want to be, when really we are the kind of people who think we can buy a new self-image.
      Having said all this, I should probably mention I have posters on my wall, I'm just not under the illusion that I'm not a bit of a moron for having them.

Unexpected Hanging Paradox

      Having ran out of original content I'm just going to start ripping off philosophical questions for a bit, sorry. So to start this spiral of unoriginality we have a variation on the unexpected hanging paradox, which despite sounding like something a couple of blue pills might help remedy is actually a significant paradox.
      Normally this paradox concerns either a man condemned to hang, which is a tad too morbid for this post, or an important exam, which I'd rather not write about in the middle of exam season (which is a misleading title, as I kind of hoped I'd be allowed to hunt exams). So instead I'll use the example of something equally unpleasant, my blog posts. Assume the following: I tell you, my loyal reader, that sometime in the next week, at 10 PM, I'll publish a blog post but the time (well, day) I publish it must be a surprise. Of course, knowing the quality of my posts, you are terrified. But then you realise I can't publish on the Sunday as at the end of Saturday you'd know I was going to publish on the Sunday and thus it would no longer be a surprise. Furthermore, you think to yourself (as you presumably have internal monologues that match the douchyness of my prose), this means it can't be on the Saturday as you already know it can't be on the Sunday and the same logic applies. This means it can't be on any day as it wouldn't be a surprise. You sit there, all smug and stuff, until on Wednesday I publish a post. Oh, balls, you think to yourself.
      So, what happened? All the steps make sense to get to the point that I can't publish anything while it's still a surprise, yet you're still surprised. But it is this deduction that means any day is a surprise.

      So, yeah, think about that.

Gloves

      While grasping at truly poor ideas for blog posts I came up with hats. Then I remembered I'd already done a post on hats, so instead I'm writing about gloves, which I have absolutely no opinions about whatsoever, but they're kind of like hats for your hands. Kind of. The crap you readers put up with from me really is unbelievable, I mean I'm about to try to write about gloves and you're still reading, what the hell?
      But, urm, yeah. Gloves. They keep your hands and fingers warm. Unless they're fingerless gloves, in which case they just keep the rest of your hand warm. Though I think the warmer blood-flow might help your fingers a bit. Oh, and if you wear gloves when it's not winter you'll look all serial-killery.
      I guess one interesting contribution I can make about gloves is that I can't wear a lot of gloves due to my freakish fingernail. So that's something, I guess.
      I'm going to go ahead and blame the low quality of this and upcoming posts on my exam revision, even though we both know that's a filthy lie, at least it's a lie that makes you feel better about me.

Clouds

      I like clouds. They're pretty, they're fluffy, they have some interesting mathematical shapes. But that's not why I like clouds. I like clouds because while most people think "looks like it might rain in a bit" I'm standing there thinking "Oh my God! There're billions of tonnes of water just floating above our heads and no one cares! Water is going to fall on us from the sky, and we're all just acting like that makes sense! Why isn't anyone else freaking out?" As you can imagine, I'm a strange person to be stuck in a plane with.
      So it's not so much that I like clouds, more that I'm still fascinated by the world with a childlike curiosity. Well, that's the romantic twist I like to put on it, a psychologist might opt for neurotic with regressive tendencies. I have a habit of internally freaking  out when I remember that a tube T.V. is just a particle accelerator, beaming photons at me, or that touch is merely electrostatic fields repelling each other. The fact that virtually every system is a vastly complicated web of interactions between hugely simple elements obeying complex rules keeps me up at night. Or it might be the caffeine. But yeah, fascination, interest and curiosity are three of the most important traits for an engaging life. Either that or tall, dark and handsome, but you can't have everything.

8 reasons it would suck to be a wizard

      When the Harry Potter books first came out everyone was, to some degree, upset that they were a muggle and thus had to open doors with their hands instead of with a piece of wood. Actually, I was largely unaffected, being 3 at the time. But ignoring that, over time I have come to realise that being a wizard wouldn't actually be all that great, and here's why:

1. Owls. As great as owls are at killing small rodents, they aren't actually an optimal mailing solution. Not only do they take quite a while to deliver a message that could be sent instantly by e-mail, only one message can be delivered at a time. What's more, I've never had to clean up Gmail's droppings. The owl issue is part of a greater issue:
2. Technology. Muggles have the internet, mobile phones and toasty making thingies. Wizards have sticks that don't really do much. So many of the problems Harry and his friends face could be fixed if there were a Wizipedia. And why the hell are they still using steam trains? It would be so much faster if they just upgraded their tracks.
3. Safety. This is a world where a fun inter-school activity is pitting teenagers against dragons and the like to see if they die. Hogwarts' mortality rate is only really rivalled by that of Sunnydale High's. They have a tree on the grounds which tries to kill anything that comes near it. The lack of safety is particularly clear in my next point:
4. Quidditch. The national pastime is watching people fly around on brooms trying not to be killed by enchanted balls. Not only is this dangerous, it must be dull as hell to watch when the seeker flies completely out of site. And the scoring system is awful; in the rare instance that your team is 150 points behind, why in the hell would the seeker catch the snitch, thus losing the game, as happened at the world cup?
5. Food. I don't know about you, but I've never felt that confectionery would be improved if it tried to bite me, or if it tasted like urine. We could do this in the muggle world, we could put tiny little explosives into Mars bars, but we don't, because that would be stupid. Wizards seem to believe that you should use magic for the sake of using magic.
6. Security. You know what might stop an evil person from getting an item that grants them everlasting life? 5 inch thick steel doors, encrypted access codes and motion detectors. You know what's not going to stop them? Chess. I mean, seriously. How the hell was chess ever going to help?
7. Social Mobility. Okay, I admit I might be pushing it with this one, but hear me out. Once you've passed your wizarding eleven plus (i.e., you're a wizard) your future is pretty much set. You're going to learn a bunch of useless junk about potions and spells and how not to be killed by potions and spells, but you're not going to learn maths or science; you're not going to really contribute anything to the world; you're just going to be a wizard. Really wizards who live in the muggle world are just a tax drain.
8. Legal systems. If you commit a crime in the wizarding world you get sent to Azkaban where you are tortured for the rest of your life. I don't know about you, but this doesn't sound like a forward-thinking rehabilitation-oriented system to me.

So, yeah. Being a muggle is best.

The Android's Dilemma

        So, here we are, four weeks without a proper post and today I have an actual idea for a post and, what's more, the time to deliver it. Well, hopefully. For this week's ramble I'm going to present a half thought experiment / half metaphor to you.
      Suppose a humanoid robot, that is undistinguishable from a real, squidgy human. Let's call him (or, more accurately, it) Arty, the artificial human. Everything Arty does is a perfectly logical result of his programming and he also has the power to think in a completely logical manner without this affecting his behaviour. So Arty will act like a normal human, as this is how he is programmed. Yet humans often act irrationally (unless you're an economist, it which case you believe everyone is perfectly logical. But whatever) and Arty knows this. Yet his programming is impossible for him to override, so he must act in a completely pointless way.
      So, you've probably got the metaphor now, and I've ran out of time.

So, about that proper post I was going to do...

      So, yeah. This time I have a good reason for not doing anything; I forgot my password. But next week I really will do a proper post.

Told you so

      See, no proper post. Not even a proper non-proper post like last week. Hopefully normal half-arsed service will resume next week, if anyone's still reading.

Due to technical difficulties, there is no blog this week. Or I fell asleep.

      I'm writing this early as I won't have access to the internet for a wee bit. I'm writing this about nothing because I somehow managed to be late for a non-existent deadline. This is especially amazing as I have actually, for perhaps the first time ever, come up with a blog topic in advance (something about logic this week and something about androids next week.) Of course, this could all just be some sort of clever marketing ploy to increase demand for my blog; I say there is going to be a blog shortage and everyone queues up to panic read.
      But yeah, there won't be a proper post next week either.

Time slips

      As it traditional, I have left coming up with an idea for a post far too late. However, today I have decided to blame it on the hour change, which left me with less time to think of a subject, which is of course what I would have done with the extra time. So, I've decided to extend that excuse into a whole quasi-philosophical post about time slipping away, assuming I don't run out of it before I get a chance to say anything.

      Basically, time is slipping away. Life is short, etc. There isn't really anything new I can bring to this subject, which is true for everything I write about really, it just happens I've decided to acknowledge it in this post. If you really want to explore this issue, go listen to some Pink Floyd. Because, let's face it, I don't have time to waste telling you about how I don't have time to waste.