Haven't written in a while, so you'll have to pardon the spelling and grammar errors. I've mostly been sitting on the couch at the Mendiola house (as evidenced by the permanent butt-print), eating free food, and moving my wrist back and forth in that not-what-you're-thinking way.
Making progress with ear training, I can now hit about 80% consistently for all melodic intervals up to an octave. I've also started practicing hearing chord quality, though the results are hardly bragging-worthy.
I've gone to church twice here now. I think it's time to stop now, before it becomes a trend or worse, a habit. The pastor has kept me on my toes thus far, alternating ideas that verge on the sensical and ones that border on Nazi. For instance, he spent twenty minutes advocating above all else a personal relationship with God, a view I intellectually admire without having a shred of my own personal relationship. Then, just when I was about to bring out the applause, he started ranting about how there are only two types of people in this "fallen world," offspring of the seed - those who believe Jesus Christ is "the tits" (The One and Only Way to God), and offspring of the serpent - everyone else. Having found myself singled out as a son of a serpent among rows of flattered Christians, and offended for my family that only has one Zodiac-appointed snake among the lot of them, I respectfully gave the pastor death stares for the remainder of the pandering.
I've also been having frequent religious discussions with Mrs. Mendiola, with sporadic attendance by Mario. Usually this involves me inventing scenarios that involve her committing to some statement, and then try to trap her into a maze of deductions that end with her being the Antichrist. So far, she's done a remarkable job of remaining calm and unshaken, and most frustratingly, not yielding an inch. Not even calling her a fanatic, a terrorist, and pure evil convinced her otherwise. However, in my defense, it's much easier to defend against contradictions when your viewpoint of the world is "it's God's plan." Contradictions are then just the spice of his creative license.
Monday, August 25, 2008
Sunday, August 10, 2008
Chez Mendiola
At Mario's house now. It's pretty nice, kind of like the home we stayed at in Maine. Mario's parents are pretending to like me, but I think I can get them to openly hate me by Tuesday.
Went to church today and sang some ballads praising Jesus with the better-than-expected church band. Christian songs have yet to branch out to a fourth chord, so it was easy to sing along. Then a girl missionary told us about her work in some African country converting the heathen children. And then just as the bell was about to ring, the pastor showed up and delivered a lecture that was a little over the top. Key points: The Joker from the new Batman is the quintessential atheist, people are inherently evil, it's up to the church to save America, because we've been going straight into hell since 1991. Since I came to America in 1991, this has special significance for me.
We've been playing a lot of liars' poker. I thought it would be a cinch with all these churchgoers, but they're even more outrageous liars than my parents. Mario and I have lost every game here, and Igor shouldn't sit too comfortably in California, the Mendiolas are coming.
Have a bunch of new riffs that are resisting development. My ear is also being stubborn and refusing to learn intervals above a fifth. And intervals below a fifth. Still, I'm closer to perfection with every passing day, and when I'm there, I've got it made. Beautiful men with well-trained ears are a rarity in this cruel world.
Went to church today and sang some ballads praising Jesus with the better-than-expected church band. Christian songs have yet to branch out to a fourth chord, so it was easy to sing along. Then a girl missionary told us about her work in some African country converting the heathen children. And then just as the bell was about to ring, the pastor showed up and delivered a lecture that was a little over the top. Key points: The Joker from the new Batman is the quintessential atheist, people are inherently evil, it's up to the church to save America, because we've been going straight into hell since 1991. Since I came to America in 1991, this has special significance for me.
We've been playing a lot of liars' poker. I thought it would be a cinch with all these churchgoers, but they're even more outrageous liars than my parents. Mario and I have lost every game here, and Igor shouldn't sit too comfortably in California, the Mendiolas are coming.
Have a bunch of new riffs that are resisting development. My ear is also being stubborn and refusing to learn intervals above a fifth. And intervals below a fifth. Still, I'm closer to perfection with every passing day, and when I'm there, I've got it made. Beautiful men with well-trained ears are a rarity in this cruel world.
Thursday, August 7, 2008
Texas
I'm finally in Texas, as of Tuesday to Wednesday midnight. Three studs picked me up from the airport, making four Adonises altogether. Everything is indeed bigger here. The bugs are big and in big supply, the first thing out of the fridge was a huge chunk of meat, and families are apparently not educated as to contraception, hence huge. We visited Mario's cousins today, and they have four children and a dog, some kind of horrible nightmare in my anti-responsibility utopia. The kids were nice and much more obedient than my sister, but their sheer numbers still made them terrifying.
Tomorrow we're going to Mario's ranch where he claims there's plumbing. I will be the judge of that.
I've been doing some ear training lately, and progress is slooow. My ears take about half an hour to warm up, but even then they'll refuse to recognize the quality of an interval above a fifth. My guesses are often embarrassingly far from reality. Oh well, at least my girlfriend's prettier than yours.
Tomorrow we're going to Mario's ranch where he claims there's plumbing. I will be the judge of that.
I've been doing some ear training lately, and progress is slooow. My ears take about half an hour to warm up, but even then they'll refuse to recognize the quality of an interval above a fifth. My guesses are often embarrassingly far from reality. Oh well, at least my girlfriend's prettier than yours.
Friday, August 1, 2008
Torture Korean-style
Yoga graced my house today, and us mere mortals (Dad, Michelle, and I) evacuated to Barnes and Noble. The store kicks us out at 11PM, and we usually have another half hour of waiting till the yogis have had their fill of our couch and mood lighting. To pass the time, we park in a NASA-sized parking lot at the church at the end of our street, and zombie around till we get the "all clear" phone call. There's no entertainment there save Michelle's incessant chattering. Every now and then, Dad shushes Michelle: "Shhh, the priests are sleeping...with the priestesses." She's 11, there's no point in hiding the truth from her anymore.
That reminds me, Michelle's going to middle school this year, that day camp where you make unfortunate friends and memories that bring you to the psychiatrist later in life. Sadly I can't impart any social wisdom onto her, as I have been a near-recluse for the last years. My days of being a social butterfly of a little girl are long gone.
Chun told me excitedly today that she'll soon get to dice animals in the name of science. That includes mice, rabbits, rats, and probably some others I've repressed. I'm glad she's having fun. Go Chun!
I'm still on the Korean film spree, though the last couple are begging me to switch back to Hollywood. I'm talking about A Moment to Remember and Daisy, which start off cute, and then end with a dense hour of despair. Men weep or die, women lose their minds or die, and then if someone hasn't died yet, they die. The ones who manage to somehow survive all that weep or lose their minds. The aftertaste is one of hopelessness and loss. This of course doesn't make them bad movies. On the contrary, if you're Chun, they're very cleansing and provide an opportunity to use the famous tear ducts. But if you're Mark, a seasoned traveler of the movie universe, life has taught you there's a limited number of watchable movies, and sooner or later you're going to have to watch that movie you already watched seven times for an eighth time. And eight horrible endings is just too much.
That reminds me, Michelle's going to middle school this year, that day camp where you make unfortunate friends and memories that bring you to the psychiatrist later in life. Sadly I can't impart any social wisdom onto her, as I have been a near-recluse for the last years. My days of being a social butterfly of a little girl are long gone.
Chun told me excitedly today that she'll soon get to dice animals in the name of science. That includes mice, rabbits, rats, and probably some others I've repressed. I'm glad she's having fun. Go Chun!
I'm still on the Korean film spree, though the last couple are begging me to switch back to Hollywood. I'm talking about A Moment to Remember and Daisy, which start off cute, and then end with a dense hour of despair. Men weep or die, women lose their minds or die, and then if someone hasn't died yet, they die. The ones who manage to somehow survive all that weep or lose their minds. The aftertaste is one of hopelessness and loss. This of course doesn't make them bad movies. On the contrary, if you're Chun, they're very cleansing and provide an opportunity to use the famous tear ducts. But if you're Mark, a seasoned traveler of the movie universe, life has taught you there's a limited number of watchable movies, and sooner or later you're going to have to watch that movie you already watched seven times for an eighth time. And eight horrible endings is just too much.
Wednesday, July 30, 2008
Brain De-Freezing
Today's new song touches a topic close to everyone's heart: postponing #2 as long as humanly possible. Everyone's knows those painful moments in their lives where #2 is all but poking out, but you just can't put down what you're doing, or you're too lazy to walk over to the bathroom, and so you clench everything and swallow hard with your butt. Later of course, your sphincter has to stretch like a cannon barrel, but as Russians say: "art demands sacrifice."
In any case, the lyrics are before you:
Verse 1
Sometimes it hits you you're lying in bed,
your bladder says i'm ready, let me go or i'm dead
your colon's screaming i've been due for a while
and your intestines now measure in mi-iles
you're thinking
Chorus:
oh God
i got to go
but no, i can hold it
just a little longer
if i just squeeze and squeeze and squeeze those mighty cheeks
i know i can hold it just one more week
Verse 2
Two hours later you're blue in the face
but you never give up, this is a long distance race
you chant your strongest mantras and pray for success
and hold that sphincter tight so you don't make a me-ess
Chorus
...
That's as far as I've gotten so far, I'm afraid if I continue, things aren't going to go well for the protagonist. Here's the MIDI: Week #2 The melody is unambiguous, each note represents a syllable.
Got some puzzles secondhand from friends that are doing interviews. My brain wasn't exactly ready for any strain, so even reading them in the IM window was a struggle. Here they are, there's two of them:
1. Find the smallest number x such that any number above it can be obtained by a linear combination of 6's, 9's and 20's. (For example 127 can be obtained with five 20's and three 9's)
2. You have 2 glass balls and a 100 story building. You need to find the smallest numbered floor such that a glass ball will break if dropped from it. Minimize the number of floors tried.
WARNING: Don't read on if you don't want to hear hints or solutions
I didn't manage to find an elegant solution to the first problem before succumbing to the temptation of using brute force. Basically I tried numbers almost consecutively until I found six consecutive integers that held the requisite property. From there it is trivial to prove that any number higher will also hold the property. I won't say the answer in case someone has extremely well-developed peripheral vision and spots it while reading the spoiler warning.
I have no idea what the best answer is to the second problem. There are a handful of strategies that all have the same worst case scenario, but I'm too lazy to delve into calculating the average case scenario. The basic idea though, is to pick some interval, say n, and try every nth floor until ball 1 breaks. Then use ball 2 to go through the yielded interval. So say n = 15, try 15th, 30nd, 45th, etc. Worst case scenario is if ball 1 breaks on the 90th floor. Then you use ball 2 to try floors 76 through 89.
In any case, the best thing to do first would be to estimate the terminal velocity of the ball. Perhaps it will reach it after falling fewer than 100 floors, narrowing the testing range.
In any case, the lyrics are before you:
Verse 1
Sometimes it hits you you're lying in bed,
your bladder says i'm ready, let me go or i'm dead
your colon's screaming i've been due for a while
and your intestines now measure in mi-iles
you're thinking
Chorus:
oh God
i got to go
but no, i can hold it
just a little longer
if i just squeeze and squeeze and squeeze those mighty cheeks
i know i can hold it just one more week
Verse 2
Two hours later you're blue in the face
but you never give up, this is a long distance race
you chant your strongest mantras and pray for success
and hold that sphincter tight so you don't make a me-ess
Chorus
...
That's as far as I've gotten so far, I'm afraid if I continue, things aren't going to go well for the protagonist. Here's the MIDI: Week #2 The melody is unambiguous, each note represents a syllable.
Got some puzzles secondhand from friends that are doing interviews. My brain wasn't exactly ready for any strain, so even reading them in the IM window was a struggle. Here they are, there's two of them:
1. Find the smallest number x such that any number above it can be obtained by a linear combination of 6's, 9's and 20's. (For example 127 can be obtained with five 20's and three 9's)
2. You have 2 glass balls and a 100 story building. You need to find the smallest numbered floor such that a glass ball will break if dropped from it. Minimize the number of floors tried.
WARNING: Don't read on if you don't want to hear hints or solutions
I didn't manage to find an elegant solution to the first problem before succumbing to the temptation of using brute force. Basically I tried numbers almost consecutively until I found six consecutive integers that held the requisite property. From there it is trivial to prove that any number higher will also hold the property. I won't say the answer in case someone has extremely well-developed peripheral vision and spots it while reading the spoiler warning.
I have no idea what the best answer is to the second problem. There are a handful of strategies that all have the same worst case scenario, but I'm too lazy to delve into calculating the average case scenario. The basic idea though, is to pick some interval, say n, and try every nth floor until ball 1 breaks. Then use ball 2 to go through the yielded interval. So say n = 15, try 15th, 30nd, 45th, etc. Worst case scenario is if ball 1 breaks on the 90th floor. Then you use ball 2 to try floors 76 through 89.
In any case, the best thing to do first would be to estimate the terminal velocity of the ball. Perhaps it will reach it after falling fewer than 100 floors, narrowing the testing range.
Tuesday, July 29, 2008
New Song
Introduced my parents to Malcolm in the Middle yesterday. They exhibited a common hypocrisy: while watching, they laughed themselves stupid, but when I asked them later what they thought of it, the biggest compliment they could muster was "I don't get it." Well, there's a good cure for "I don't get it," and that's "do it till you get it," so if they're thinking they're getting out of seasons 2-7, they're going to have to rethink their strategy.
Started a new song today, on commission from Mario. The requested topic was "how to discipline your children." Leaving the punch to the chorus, so far I have:
Verse 1
When you say Bobby, rub my feet,
or I've had a long day
make me something to eat,
you should only see obedience
don't put up with any less
Verse 2
When you say sweetie, I'm feeling kind of tired,
go and do my work
so I don't get fired
you should only see obedience
don't put up with any less
Pre-Chorus
But if the little ingrate doesn't run and obey
if he starts to whine and begs to go out and play
then you know it's time for discipline
then you know it's time to give him some...
I have a rough idea for up to but not including the pre-chorus. Here's the midi: Disciplining Freeloaders
The vocals begin 8 or 9 measures in, just match the dominant voice to the lyrics. It's nothing spectacular at the moment, I'll have to juice it up.
I left Boston yesterday, and in the emotional hurricane that surrounded the event, Chun let some truth slip through her usual compulsive lying. Her email to me yesterday had a great line, which I reproduce here with her permission: I have so little time to squeeze all the fun out of you. Now that's honesty in a relationship. I finally understand why I have intuitively been keeping so few friends. With more than a couple of people constantly squeezing me, I wouldn't stand a chance. It also now makes sense why I eat so much but remain skinny and beautiful - that's a tip for you fatties out there - hug yourselves and lose some weight.
Started a new song today, on commission from Mario. The requested topic was "how to discipline your children." Leaving the punch to the chorus, so far I have:
Verse 1
When you say Bobby, rub my feet,
or I've had a long day
make me something to eat,
you should only see obedience
don't put up with any less
Verse 2
When you say sweetie, I'm feeling kind of tired,
go and do my work
so I don't get fired
you should only see obedience
don't put up with any less
Pre-Chorus
But if the little ingrate doesn't run and obey
if he starts to whine and begs to go out and play
then you know it's time for discipline
then you know it's time to give him some...
I have a rough idea for up to but not including the pre-chorus. Here's the midi: Disciplining Freeloaders
The vocals begin 8 or 9 measures in, just match the dominant voice to the lyrics. It's nothing spectacular at the moment, I'll have to juice it up.
I left Boston yesterday, and in the emotional hurricane that surrounded the event, Chun let some truth slip through her usual compulsive lying. Her email to me yesterday had a great line, which I reproduce here with her permission: I have so little time to squeeze all the fun out of you. Now that's honesty in a relationship. I finally understand why I have intuitively been keeping so few friends. With more than a couple of people constantly squeezing me, I wouldn't stand a chance. It also now makes sense why I eat so much but remain skinny and beautiful - that's a tip for you fatties out there - hug yourselves and lose some weight.
Monday, July 28, 2008
Back to the NJ
Spent some quality time in front of the mirror yesterday, practicing facial expressions so I can better fake being a normal person. I'll be making some first impressions soon in Texas, and if I wear my natural mask of stoned disinterest I might end up with the same quality friends as I made in Boston (this is where my friends find out whether they're optimists or pessimists). I also needed some work on that smile you give people that you pass on the street, especially the ones of the cute and female persuasions. Prior to today, my mouth had only one smiling position - corners of the lips wrapped around the ears and eyes reduced to sub-Asian width slits. After much struggle with disobedient facial muscles, the mirror yielded minor results. Oh well, at least I can frighten people away with my variety pack of terrifying grimaces.
Came back home today. The bus ride was uneventful; my seat-mate turned out to be quiet and polite. I couldn't find anything to get annoyed at, which was tremendously frustrating. As a result, I didn't sleep a wink, and finished another award-winning book that was somewhere between "OK" and "pretty decent."
The book was Forever Peace, by Joe Haldeman, a professor I took a class with at MIT. He was more interesting in real life than on paper, and much more humorous and irreverent. The book in contrast takes it self much more seriously.
The plot captures one of those rare moments in 2001: A Space Odyssey where the music shifts from lullaby-esque to artificially-dramatic, and a big black pyramid appears to herald a new evolutionary or technological leap for mankind. In this case, the evolutionary leap is mental neutering, or to use Haldeman's word - "pacifying" - creating man that cannot initiate violence unless it is in self-defense. Asimov of course already explored this concept, and managed to write about it much more lightly and interestingly. For the sci-fi illiterate, I'm refering to Gaia from the extended Foundation Series. In either case, Haldeman mantra is: your balls are not in your sack, they're in your head (the one upstairs).
Texas is only a week away. Tomorrow I resume training in faking friendliness.
Came back home today. The bus ride was uneventful; my seat-mate turned out to be quiet and polite. I couldn't find anything to get annoyed at, which was tremendously frustrating. As a result, I didn't sleep a wink, and finished another award-winning book that was somewhere between "OK" and "pretty decent."
The book was Forever Peace, by Joe Haldeman, a professor I took a class with at MIT. He was more interesting in real life than on paper, and much more humorous and irreverent. The book in contrast takes it self much more seriously.
The plot captures one of those rare moments in 2001: A Space Odyssey where the music shifts from lullaby-esque to artificially-dramatic, and a big black pyramid appears to herald a new evolutionary or technological leap for mankind. In this case, the evolutionary leap is mental neutering, or to use Haldeman's word - "pacifying" - creating man that cannot initiate violence unless it is in self-defense. Asimov of course already explored this concept, and managed to write about it much more lightly and interestingly. For the sci-fi illiterate, I'm refering to Gaia from the extended Foundation Series. In either case, Haldeman mantra is: your balls are not in your sack, they're in your head (the one upstairs).
Texas is only a week away. Tomorrow I resume training in faking friendliness.
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