Why are plates mostly round?
Do goldfish have friends if they remember only 5 minutes of their lives at a time?Who named the seasons Spring, Summer, Autumn and Winter?
What happens to clothes nobody wants to wear when you recycle them?
Why does ice freeze white and not other colours when water is transparent? Does that mean white is the ultimate colour?
What time did Christ really die? Is it really at 3pm when Good Friday mass times usually are?
How do people know that Christ died on a Friday and rose on a Sunday? Isn't the third day technically Monday?
What does Easter mean?
Why do we never see black flowers but see black/dark brown trees and wood?
Do dogs not dream of chasing rabbits, eating pie and other naughty things when they dream?
Who decided that Saturday and Sunday were to be commonly accepted weekends? Why not Friday and Saturday in some countries as is normal, or Sunday and Monday?
Why did we end up using visual as our primary sense when our sight isn't actually really that good?
Monday, April 20, 2009
Really Deep Thoughts... (or not)
While we're on the topic, this is what keeps me up at night (all the real work I do thinking I do either when in the shower or when washing dishes).
"How Happy" Part 2
How happy is the blameless vestal's lot!
The world forgetting, by the world forgot.
Eternal sunshine of the spotless mind!
Each pray'r accepted, and each wish resign'd;
-- Alexander Pope, "Eloisa to Aberlard"
How odd that of all posts on the blog, not that many of them are of any real value, this is the most read, most commented post! How... curious.
I wonder if there are that many of us searching for innocence (since it can't be that the Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind was that big a movie hit starring Jim Carrey...) that we cease to find what makes us happy, and content ourselves only with the pleasure of the search?
If it is indeed true that ignorance is bliss (a short form translation of Alexander Pope's sarcasm in all it's glory) then are we truly seeking bliss through ignorance? I cannot allow myself to believe that. I would rather search for something than nothing - I would be first to admit that I believe in a Greater Being (let's codename that "God") because to believe in nothing at all is a dismal, bleak, meaningless prospect.
I am of the viewpoint that 3 year olds and very clever, wise people have one thing in common - they know how to ask a simple question: "Why?" (The value of this has nothing to do with the capacity to drive parents nuts with one word... over-ridden only by the power of another word, "No", with more punch per alphabet value, but barely...)
That eternal sunshine of the spotless mind must come down like the tropical climate of the Seychelles - somewhere very few people are, where very many people want to go.
How happy is the blameless vestal's lot? On my part, I think I'd like to meet someone who doesn't like beach holidays. Someone who thinks having nothing to do and drinking pina coladas all day sounds like the perfect idea of torture. I'd love to meet someone with an eternal snowstorm of a curious mind. Someone who wakes me up at 2am in the morning with strange musings (like: do goldfish have friends if they remember only 5 minutes of their lives at a time?) that keep me up at night staring at the stars.
What is the weirdest thing you've ever wondered about? Were you happy thinking about them? Or did you put it away, in your saving-up-for-a-holiday-box, to bring yourself back to more practical matters?
Saturday, April 18, 2009
The Narnia Code
Every now and then, I come across something that wakes up a part of me that's gone to sleep. Today was one such moment. I'd stumbled across The Narnia Code, a BBC documentary about Michael Ward, who'd made what would probably be termed as one of the most fascinating literary discoveries in recent history. I'd daresay it was compelling, and also the type of discovery to catch on faster than a new Robert Frost poem, thanks to the huge movie'ability of the Narnia Chronicles.
I've not read all 7 books of the Narnia Chronicles, I must admit. Or at least, although I can remember reading the full Lord of the Rings twice over as a kid, I remember only vague snippets of the Narnia Chronicles. I feel sure that I was fed the kind of literary diet as a child that would not have missed out these books, but at the same time, it joined the childhood stream of consciousness together with Sandman graphic novels, Norse mythology, Aesop's fables and other odd bits and pieces of information-that-nobody-knows-much-of-anymore.
So imagine my pleasant surprise coming across this documentary and learning that a secret, "third layer" of CS Lewis's subtle plan in the Narnia Chronicles was drawn from precisely the "stream of consciousness" that once made up common knowledge of people before CS Lewis's time.
Do I agree with CS Lewis? Yes, I do. Whole-heartedly. And why not? His ideas are so much more seductive, so much more enticing than the alternatives that I'm presented with by modern science and modern fact.
Watch the documentary - it's a not-so-long download on cable, and for a 250mb wait, if it sparks in you a wanting to believe, if it gives you something else to look forward to besides the end of the weekend - then it would have been worth the while.
(If Wei Chean could watch this documentary, I think she would be very edified in her long held love of CS Lewis's work.)
Incredulous
Upon watching The Narnia Code, a documentary on Planet Narnia by Michael Ward on CS Lewis's unifying theme of the seven mythological planets in his Narnia Chronicles.
Someone told me something I already knew, and had forgotten.
I know you are not the universe.
The universe is matter and mechanism, materialism,
The physical - you held me in your arms, I knew
You held a body, not a self, a discarded image
Of surreal to real, dreams to dust.
No longer do we share intimately a knowledge of the ties that bind
Us, universally drawing you from you, me from me,
That Tuesday was for war, and Friday for love,
That we know more than we know, and remember more than fact.
If it's only untrue, but beautiful, then tell me lies,
I want my sky lit with more than coloured dust.
I'd forgotten that Hope was not reserved for children, and
Dreams for courage and fairytales, that a book could lift
A mind beyond what was possible - we should all read -
And my heart would dare to think, that
I could look upon the stars and see a being
Far greater than you or I. Imagine that.
I've not read all 7 books of the Narnia Chronicles, I must admit. Or at least, although I can remember reading the full Lord of the Rings twice over as a kid, I remember only vague snippets of the Narnia Chronicles. I feel sure that I was fed the kind of literary diet as a child that would not have missed out these books, but at the same time, it joined the childhood stream of consciousness together with Sandman graphic novels, Norse mythology, Aesop's fables and other odd bits and pieces of information-that-nobody-knows-much-of-anymore.
So imagine my pleasant surprise coming across this documentary and learning that a secret, "third layer" of CS Lewis's subtle plan in the Narnia Chronicles was drawn from precisely the "stream of consciousness" that once made up common knowledge of people before CS Lewis's time.
Do I agree with CS Lewis? Yes, I do. Whole-heartedly. And why not? His ideas are so much more seductive, so much more enticing than the alternatives that I'm presented with by modern science and modern fact.
Watch the documentary - it's a not-so-long download on cable, and for a 250mb wait, if it sparks in you a wanting to believe, if it gives you something else to look forward to besides the end of the weekend - then it would have been worth the while.
(If Wei Chean could watch this documentary, I think she would be very edified in her long held love of CS Lewis's work.)
Incredulous
Upon watching The Narnia Code, a documentary on Planet Narnia by Michael Ward on CS Lewis's unifying theme of the seven mythological planets in his Narnia Chronicles.
Someone told me something I already knew, and had forgotten.
I know you are not the universe.
The universe is matter and mechanism, materialism,
The physical - you held me in your arms, I knew
You held a body, not a self, a discarded image
Of surreal to real, dreams to dust.
No longer do we share intimately a knowledge of the ties that bind
Us, universally drawing you from you, me from me,
That Tuesday was for war, and Friday for love,
That we know more than we know, and remember more than fact.
If it's only untrue, but beautiful, then tell me lies,
I want my sky lit with more than coloured dust.
I'd forgotten that Hope was not reserved for children, and
Dreams for courage and fairytales, that a book could lift
A mind beyond what was possible - we should all read -
And my heart would dare to think, that
I could look upon the stars and see a being
Far greater than you or I. Imagine that.
Tuesday, April 14, 2009
Almost Free Music from Spotify!
Sometimes living in the UK has benefits. One of these is Spotify, a free music player that has just launched in the UK (and not some other places I know heheh).
If you thought Last.fm was cool, until it started to stop sharing the music that you searched on - and you switched to Deezer which did the same thing until it fell to the Dark Side of hideous ads and pulled out music - then Spotify is the next best thing.
Log in, search for plenty of music which streams instantly, it's apparently ad driven but I haven't heard or seen an ad so far and it's been 6 songs in. Happy with that.
Love the iTunes like interface, creation of play lists using drag and drop technology, recommended artists, quick, light-footed search and play interface. Great for samplers (in full), for falling in love with songs before the final purchase, for music that accompanies evocations, blogs, surfing, coffee... pretty much anything, really.
I now need an effortless, audiophilic sound system hooked up to my laptop.
If you thought Last.fm was cool, until it started to stop sharing the music that you searched on - and you switched to Deezer which did the same thing until it fell to the Dark Side of hideous ads and pulled out music - then Spotify is the next best thing.
Log in, search for plenty of music which streams instantly, it's apparently ad driven but I haven't heard or seen an ad so far and it's been 6 songs in. Happy with that.
Love the iTunes like interface, creation of play lists using drag and drop technology, recommended artists, quick, light-footed search and play interface. Great for samplers (in full), for falling in love with songs before the final purchase, for music that accompanies evocations, blogs, surfing, coffee... pretty much anything, really.
I now need an effortless, audiophilic sound system hooked up to my laptop.
Monday, April 13, 2009
How to Peel Garlic
It says something dramatic about the recent state of my being that my latest, greatest scientific, geeky breakthrough was to figure out how to peel garlic efficiently in a way that hasn't been explored on the internet.
This is no small matter. Google can and will tell you (usually) everything that you need to know. From the best way to cure a hangover to how to iron a shirt. God knows everything that I've learnt in life, I've learnt from a search engine.
That said, Google probably doesn't tell you the most efficient way of doing things. It will get by, suffice, get you through the day, but the best thing about a search engine is to prove the case that life's teacher doesn't get better than trial and error and experimentation, the best loved (and most fun) way of "taking it apart to find out how it works".
Most "How to Peel Garlic" guides online in a quick and easy way tell you to smash down hard on a clove of garlic with 1) a cleaver, 2) a large frying pan, 3) your boyfriend's flat side of the head... but all of these methods get the cleaver/frying pan/boyfriend's said cheek etc. unnecessarily dirty. Some clever guides also recommend the garlic peeler, which really works (I have one) which is an unnecessarily expensive tube of silicone'y rubber in which you put the garlic clove, roll on a work top, and presto, the garlic clove pops out of the tube after some satisfyingly crunchy sounds. It does work, albeit being overtly expensive for something that just peels garlic, but only works for larger, rounder cloves of garlic.
Enter my method for peeling garlic, which works for smaller cloves too: Hold the garlic clove at the ends with the thumb and forefinger of both hands. Twist in opposite directions to hear a satisfying crunching sound as the delicate papery skin of the garlic breaks and separates from the clove. Pull with thumb and forefinger of both hands in opposite directions and watch that paper skin fall away.
Why does it work? The garlic clove inside the skin is far softer and more pliable than the paper skin that contains it. By flexing the clove, you break the contact of the skin with the clove, which creates a space between the skin and clove that "peels" it for you.
Oh, and not only is this quick, but you get a whole clove intact. Unlike the fast, smash 'em up version.
This is no small matter. Google can and will tell you (usually) everything that you need to know. From the best way to cure a hangover to how to iron a shirt. God knows everything that I've learnt in life, I've learnt from a search engine.
That said, Google probably doesn't tell you the most efficient way of doing things. It will get by, suffice, get you through the day, but the best thing about a search engine is to prove the case that life's teacher doesn't get better than trial and error and experimentation, the best loved (and most fun) way of "taking it apart to find out how it works".
Most "How to Peel Garlic" guides online in a quick and easy way tell you to smash down hard on a clove of garlic with 1) a cleaver, 2) a large frying pan, 3) your boyfriend's flat side of the head... but all of these methods get the cleaver/frying pan/boyfriend's said cheek etc. unnecessarily dirty. Some clever guides also recommend the garlic peeler, which really works (I have one) which is an unnecessarily expensive tube of silicone'y rubber in which you put the garlic clove, roll on a work top, and presto, the garlic clove pops out of the tube after some satisfyingly crunchy sounds. It does work, albeit being overtly expensive for something that just peels garlic, but only works for larger, rounder cloves of garlic.
Enter my method for peeling garlic, which works for smaller cloves too: Hold the garlic clove at the ends with the thumb and forefinger of both hands. Twist in opposite directions to hear a satisfying crunching sound as the delicate papery skin of the garlic breaks and separates from the clove. Pull with thumb and forefinger of both hands in opposite directions and watch that paper skin fall away.
Why does it work? The garlic clove inside the skin is far softer and more pliable than the paper skin that contains it. By flexing the clove, you break the contact of the skin with the clove, which creates a space between the skin and clove that "peels" it for you.
Oh, and not only is this quick, but you get a whole clove intact. Unlike the fast, smash 'em up version.
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