I'm Always Right

There is a hot debate in my community.

The Municipal and Provincial Governments have teamed up to build low barrier housing in Nanaimo, BC. The purpose of this project is to house those with addictions and mental illness. The use of illicit drugs (inside their rooms) would not result in the eviction of residents. Nanaimoites are divided on the issue, and with good reason. (I am not going to dive into these reasons here, because I fear the word-storm that may result in the comments box. Perhaps some other time.) Few of us are experts on mental health, and so we speculate the effects that such a facility would have on our community and compare them with the effects of doing nothing. Some have spoken out creatively and suggested amendments to the plan which would adjust the consequences of the project.

Personally, I'm quite happy that public dialogue has shifted from digitization of power meters and minor changes in the tax structure to an issue which is much more relevant.

When a person debates any topic, they can have a confirmation bias. This phenomenon causes one to actively seek out information that confirms his existing opinion, while rejecting information that opposes it. In other words, I am always correct because those who disagree are always wrong. While this bias, coupled with pride, leads to some very exciting debates, it often makes effective conversation impossible. For evidence of this bias, refer to the Letters to the Editor column in any edition of the Nanaimo Bulliten. By becoming aware of our confirmation bias, we can begin to participate in meaningful and productive discussions, which can help to progress our society.

Hopefully, this hot debate can result in actions which improve the lives of those who need housing and those who already have it.

My Confession

I'm just going to come out and say it.

I love (some) country music. With all my heart. Forever and ever.

You know that very stereotypical country music about dying dogs and broken pickup trucks? I'm not talking about that kind of country music. I love country music sung by musicians who have, at one time or another, been a great chanteur or chanteuse of any other genre of music. The musicians who can blend a little jazz or a little rock into slide riffs and bent notes hold a special place in my heart and on my playlist.

When I was a kid, my dad would play Willie Nelson on repeat. When he bought a car with a functioning stereo, his Willie disc was permanently lodged in the CD tray. There was no need for a 5 disc changer, because there was only one worth listening to. Sure, he would try out some other music every now and then. But it only seemed to last a few songs before the disc would be removed and the car would, once again, be filled with that soothing voice of Mr. Nelson. I always felt that he was not singing into a microphone, but instead that he was having a very personal conversation with me in which he divulged all of his deepest personal secrets. I loved his jazzy phrasing and sophisticated chord choices in the context of whining guitars and the occasional honky-tonk backbone. My love affair with blended country music began with Mr. Willie Nelson's rendition of Blue Skies.

This week, I listened to a YouTube video of Norah Jones and Bonnie Raitt singing Tennessee Waltz by Pee Wee King and Redd Stewart. While I am not a big fan of the original, nor many of the dozens of covers, Norah's version had a strong jazz and blues influence, while Bonnie's licks were 100% country flair. I adore the blend of genres. This video reignited my passion for quasi-country. I searched on YouTube, and much to my delight, Norah Jones and Willie Nelson have also sung duets, including The Wulritzer Prize and Baby, It's Cold Outside (ok, that song is a little more jazz than country. It's still amazing.) If you ask me, it's a match made in heaven.

Four Square

Yesterday was one of my favourite kinds of days. It was just warm enough to walk around without a jacket and the sun was bright yet gentle. When the temperature is in that range, there is no fretting with your clothing layers; you're just comfortable. And when you are comfortable, it's so easy to look for the beauty in the world. Mother Nature isn't one to disappoint. Thanks, Mom, for the changing leaves and the views of the coast mountains.

I decided to enhance my already-awesome-day with three upgrades.

1. A mid-morning stroll in the harbour with my man.

2. A Cinnamon Kiss Latte. (Move on over "pumpkin spice." My heart belongs to someone else now. Someone who brings the real spice back to my caffeine romance.)

3. A read-through of the proof that every positive integer (definition: a regular old number; no fractions, no decimals) can be written as the sum of four integer squares (an integer times itself).

Pick your favourite number. In our house, where Micheal Jordan is heavily featured, this number is 23. Now try to write it as the sum of four squares.

23 = 9 + 9 + 4 + 1 = (3x3) + (3x3) + (2x2) + (1x1)

(Note: 0x0 counts as an integer square. Also, if you know how to use superscript on blogger, please let me know how.)

What is truly remarkable is that EVERY positive integer can be written this way. Even this one: 84863672095433749084578467379049368059659357463527546367548986937846572

It also means that if you have a number of Skittles, you can arrange them in exactly four square shapes. Since 0x0 counts as a square, this means that you can arrange them in at most four squares. These squares must be filled in, like this.

 

If you had 7845674986935860893457289 Skittles, no temptation to eat them, and nothing better to do, you could arrange them in at most four square shapes. It would be possible! Then, if you ate some, you could rearrange the remaining Skittles into at most four new square shapes. Outstanding!

Furthermore, if we had a super-charged gravity pump capable of towing stars, we could arrange all of the stars in the universe into, you guessed it, at most four square shapes. If we had two super-charged gravity pumps, we could divide the stars into two groups. You and I could have a race; the first to arrange their collection of stars into at most four square shapes using their gravity pump would be declared the winner.

I think it would be quite a long race.

Bye for now.

Enjoy the autumn weather! Thanks for stopping by.

Crunch Time and PSP

Well, hello there! It's been a while.

It is now what we university folk refer to as "crunch time." There are so many assignments and midterms due that there isn't enough time to pick of the pieces of my shattered brain off of the sides of my skull. However, procrastination binges (no matter how poorly timed) are not uncommon. You are reading one right now, and you may find yourself reading them all semester.

And now for something completely different:

Have you ever heard of PSP? No, not the game thingy or that red tide illness. The other PSP. Progressive Supranuclear Palsy. No? Never heard of it? Neither had I.

It is a rare neurodegenerative disease whose patients gradually lose their muscle control, especially the ability to walk, speak, and swallow. Cognition is also slowed, so conversation progresses at a much slower rate. The cause of PSP is unknown. It progresses over time and there is no effective treatment and no cure.

Actor Dudley Moore, pictured below, was mistaken for a drunk and treated with disrespect while in the early stages of PSP, because his disease caused him to lose balance, slur his speech, and converse awkwardly.

For a 20/20 story on Dudley Moore's battle with PSP, click here.

It is truly unfortunate that so many battle this disease, yet so few know it exists. Patients deserve respect and compassion, not judgement. While they fight the battle to hold on to their brain, they need us to fight to find a cure. It starts with awareness. So thanks for reading.

But for now I'd better get on with my mountain of homework.

Thanks for stopping by!
K