My plane touched down in Bangalore at around 4:30 in the morning. I made my way out of the terminal to a driver waiting to drive me to the conference hotel where I’d be staying for the first leg of the conference. An hour’s drive later, melanoma I walked into my hotel room. The conference started in 3 hours. I tried my best to get some sleep but a combination of time-zone induced circadian confusion and anxiety at the thought of oversleeping kept me mostly awake. At 8 o’clock the first of my three alarms went off. Moments before the third one rang, decease the front desk called with my wake-up call. I flew halfway around the world, I wasn’t going to miss this.
I showered, got dressed and made my way to the lobby to get my badge. People were already gathered and registering. The atmosphere was professional and inviting. Things got underway at 9 o’clock with a keynote from CollabNet‘s Venkat Janardhanam. We then split into two tracks. The first of my talks was at noon. I was following Joydip Kanjilal who was giving back to back talks on Node.js and new features in .NET. Did you know Node was single-threaded? I didn’t. Also, I’m not a .NET developer but memory fragmentation cleanup is actually pretty cool.
Noon rolled around and it was my turn to deliver the first of my two talks. It went really well with lots of Q&A during and after the session. I felt I connected with the crowd and that they got something out of it. My jQuery workshop was equally successful though unfortunately less of a workshop and more of a talk. I had too much content for the allotted 50 minutes so I had to fly through it pretty quickly, not giving the delegates much time to try out the examples. I determined to remedy that for the Pune leg of the trip where I’d be repeating both sessions. My talks delivered, I was free to attend the rest of the conference, learn and mingle with the delegates. It was also an opportunity to answer questions that attendees had regarding the topics I’d covered. I have to admit, the post-talk discussions were my favourite part of the conference.
I was soon leaving Bangalore and flying to Pune for a repeat performance to a new crowd at a new venue. This time, my JavaScript talk was immediately after the keynote. My jQuery workshop wasn’t till the end of the day though, giving me time to tweak things. I put together an HTML page that allowed delegates to follow along with the examples and copy and paste them into the console to quickly see the results of what was being taught. Unfortunately, I couldn’t stick around to answer questions this time as a car was waiting to drive me to Mumbai for my flight out of India.
All in all, I feel the trip was a success. I was able to teach, learn and meet some great people. Many thanks to the organizers at UBM India for inviting me and I look forward to doing it again next year.
I’m a big fan of Spider-Man and have been watching a lot of the different animated series on Netflix lately. The more of it I watch though, visit this site the more a few things really stand out to me. In fact, buy so much so that it distracts from the storytelling. Now granted, not only is the show fictional and a cartoon, it’s also of the super hero genre. But! Even though I’m supposed to suspend disbelief, my mind still has a hard time when it comes to some of the fundamentals.
The story goes that Peter Parker’s DNA was altered by a spider bite. The alteration gives him superhuman strength and agility, spider sense and the ability to climb walls. Depending on the version, he also gets the ability to shoot webbing from his wrists, but I’ll get to that later.
If Spidey can stick to walls because of a genetic alteration it’s because something in his fingers and toes has changed. It would therefore stand to reason that if he covers his hands and feet with gloves and boots, he’s effectively covering up the very thing that would allow him to climb walls. Worse, in the Spider-Man TV series, Peter Parker’s even portrayed sticking to a wall with his feet only while wearing sneakers! If the writers and animators wanted to make the story believable, Spidey would have to go around without anything covering his hands and feet. Disbelief: 1, Suspension: 0.
What’s more, even though his spider “stickiness” allows him to stick to walls with enough strength to carry 170 adults on his back, I can’t help but wonder how a normal, everyday wall made of plaster would hold even one, 167 pound person without caving in or collapsing. Let alone the surfaces he sticks to while catching falling people and debris with his webbing. I get the feeling that Spider-Man would spend a lot more time recovering from falls off unstable walls than he does currently. Disbelief: 2, Suspension: 0.
Finally, a prominent feature of any Spider-man story is his primary mode of transportation: web slinging. He gets around town by firing a good hundred feet of web per swing. All of that webbing has to come from somewhere. We’re supposed to believe that Peter Parker is perpetually broke, yet he can afford to pay for all that webbing? He even says that it “costs him a fortune” in the animated series. What fortune? He’s supposed to be broke! And even if he could afford it, I can’t even begin to imagine how you’d fit even one shot’s worth in those tiny, wrist-mounted cartridges. Of course there is the alternate storyline that says he’s able to produce webbing from his own body. But that doesn’t work either. His system couldn’t possibly keep up with the demand. He’d likely fire one shot and be drained. But say for the sake of argument that he was able to produce all that webbing, he’d have to be eating constantly to provide his body with raw materials to produce the stuff. And even if he was continually stuffing his face, remember, he’s supposed to be broke. Who’s buying him all that food? Disbelief: 3, Suspension: 0.
So these are the things that go through my mind while I watch Spidey fighting bad guys. Maybe I’m the only one. Who knows.
Thanks for being such an inspiration. May you rest in peace.
As some of you who follow me on Facebook, men’s health Twitter or Google+ may know, I started taking CrossFit classes earlier this year.
As I’d expected, it was physically challenging. Though to my great surprise, it was as much, if not more mentally challenging. In other words, during most workouts, my mind threatens to give out way before my body does.
This revelation has lead me to learn a couple of very important lessons. The first is that showing up is huge. You can’t do anything till you’re there so just get your butt there. Once you’re there, you’re committed and it’s automatic.
The second lesson is that you’d be surprised at how much your body can do if you can get your mind out of the way. It never fails, we’ll start a workout and all I can think of is “a hundred of these? I’m going to die!” But before you know it, I’m at thirty, then fifty and woah, I’m past the halfway mark. Soon I’m at sixty, then seventy-five… almost there! When I finish the workout I wonder what happened. Did I black out? I’m done? How’d it happen? Had I listened to my mind and given in to the fear of “a hundred!? Are you crazy??” I would never have discovered just how much I could actually do.
Though I still battle with the psychology of it all, it’s slowly starting to sink in that there are broader applications to these lessons. First, whatever it is that I want to accomplish, before anything I need to show up. Second, if I can set aside my fears and reservations and get on with it, who knows how far I can go and what great things I can accomplish!
If you’ve lived at all, approved you know that you only learn by doing. Picking up a ball and playing the game is a lot more informative to your understanding of a sport than just watching it on TV. Trying to build anything is a lot more educational than watching Bob Vila do it. And you probably also know that doing anything means you’ll make mistakes. Making mistakes isn’t fun but it’s an essential part of the learning process. The more costly or painful the mistake, the longer we remember it. So there’s value in making mistakes.
That being said, we can’t try our hand at everything. Nor do we want to. So in lieu of picking up a rifle and going to war, or making millions only to lose it all because of bad decisions, we can read about it from those who have gone before us. Reading opens up our world to the experiences of countless others who have lived entire lives unlike our own. Through their writing you can travel to the ends of the earth, make and squander fortunes, find love and have your heart crushed, climb to the top of the world and live in the gutter, all from the comfort of your couch.
So pick up a book, any book, and read. Who knows, you just might learn something.
Last November, herbal I gave myself the challenge of writing a short story a day for a year. It was an ambitious goal. If you’ve been keeping up with the project though, you’ll have noticed that my writing has since slowed down and nearly come to a halt. I don’t want to drop the project because I love to write, but I will be shifting gears to a more easy, infrequent pace.
The lesson here, I think, is summed up quite nicely by Homer Simpson’s immortal words:
You tried your best and failed miserably. The lesson is: never try.
Science is great. It takes the chaos of the world and reduces it into quantifiable, website like this testable and predictable units of information. Except, that is, unless you’re talking about nutrition. On that topic it seems the jury’s out–and the snake oil salesman are in.
Needing to shed about 30 pounds, I’ve found myself paying closer attention to nutrition. I expected to find at least some consensus on the subject. But no. Instead, I found the “experts'” advice to not just vary slightly, but to be diametrically opposed! Suffice it to say, the experience has left me feeling somewhat confused and bewildered. I mean, reading the same publication on any given month will give you differing data. And forget about getting your information online. The Internet is an echo chamber on steroids when it comes to nutrition. You can find information to back any point of view: eat meat, don’t eat meat; eat carbs, don’t eat carbs; eat fruits and vegetables, stay away from fruit; meat protein causes heart disease, meat protein doesn’t cause heart disease. What!?
If I see another article titled, “everything you know about nutrition is wrong,” I’m going to punch someone. I mean seriously, we aren’t talking about comparing belief systems here, we’re talking about food and how it affects our physiology. You’d think that by 2011, we’d have some definitive insight into that most fundamental process.
Continued from Day 22. The Renaxi Are Coming
“He is, cheap but why can’t you approach him yourselves?”
“We tried. He didn’t believe us.”
“So you need me to convince him.”
“Yes.”
“Alright.”
“OK, cough hold my hand, we’ll go now,” he said, extending his hand.
“Wait. You can’t just appear in the Oval Office. We might get shot before we utter a word.”
“Right. So what do you suggest?”
“Take me back to my cabin, I’ll call him first,” she explained.
He reached out and held her hand and they disappeared. At that very instant, there was a flash of blue light in the woods surrounding Colleen’s parents’ cabin.
“Wait out here, I’ll just be a moment,” she instructed. She walked off toward the cabin. It took her about ten minutes before she returned, phone in hand. “I had to change. It’s bad enough I traveled to another planet in my pyjamas.” She dialled the White House switchboard. “Yes, this is Colleen Banks for President Banks. Yes, I realize the President is sleeping. It’s extremely important. Please wake him.”
“One moment please,” the operator responded.
She listened to muzak for a good ten minutes until finally, someone came back on the line.
“Colleen, is that you?” It wasn’t her brother.
“Yes, it’s me. Heather?”
“Yes,” It was Heather Milbank, the President’s Chief of Staff. “Colleen, it’s three o’clock in the morning. Can’t this wait? The President, your brother, needs his sleep.”
“Listen, I’m not a child and don’t appreciate being ‘handled.’ Put my brother on the phone, now,” she said sternly.
“Alright, but it’s your hide.”
The line clicked and began ringing. It took a few rings, but finally someone picked up.
“Yes?” came the groggy voice of her brother.
“Eric, it’s me.”
“Colleen, what’s wrong? Are mom and dad alright?”
“Yes, yes, they’re fine. I need to talk to you right away. It’s a matter of life and death.”
“Col, what is it?”
“Not over the phone, face to face. But I needed to call you first before showing up, otherwise the Secret Service might get spooked.”
“Yeah, yeah, okay. I’ll tell them to expect you at the gate. But you’re at the cabin, you won’t be here till tomorrow anyway.”
“No, not the gate, and no, not tomorrow. Right now.”
“Col, what the hell are you talking about?”
“Trust me, just go down to your office and make sure your security detail doesn’t open fire when I show up.”
“Alright, alright, I’m going. But if you’re messing with me, that’s it for three AM calls.”
“You won’t be disappointed, Eric. I’ll see you in a couple of minutes.” She hung up the phone. “It’ll take him a couple of minutes to walk from the Executive Residence to the Oval Office. Let’s just be safe and give him five. She kept an eye on the time readout on her phone. When the time had elapsed, she reached for her friend’s hand and they vanished.
Eric Banks was in the Oval office wearing his silk pyjamas and a robe with the President’s seal on it. A skeptic, he’d decided to humor Colleen only because she was his sister. Maybe she was just working through the trauma of losing her husband. He didn’t know. But he figured kid gloves was the best way to deal with her for now. He’d told his detail that no matter what happened in the next five minutes, to keep their sidearms holstered. That only made them nervous and more alert. They tenuously agreed, but when it came to the safety of the Commander in Chief, sometimes you just had to lie in order to keep him safe.
He was about to head back to bed when out of nowhere the room lit up with a bright blueish light. As soon as that happened the doors to the Oval Office flew open and in poured half a dozen Secret Service agents, guns drawn. They rushed the President and began evacuating him from the room when a voice yelled out, “wait!”
It was Colleen. She was standing in the middle of the room with a man. The agents didn’t stop evacuating POTUS until he’d given the order. Three times. Evacuating the President was one of their most rigorously rehearsed procedures. You didn’t stop for anyone or anything until the President was secured. His repeated orders however, paused the procedure. For now. At this point there were another ten agents in the room and the number seemed to be growing.
“Eric, it’s me, Colleen! Please, my friend just wants to talk,” she said, her voice trembling. Staring down a couple dozen SIG Sauer 229s in the hands of trained professionals will do that to a person. She knew to expect some show of force, but the raw energy of the Secret Service in action had shaken her. For his part, her friend seemed pretty unaffected by it all.
“Col, how the hell did you… appear there!?” the President asked from behind a phalanx of agents.
“My friend. He’s able to travel anywhere in the blink of an eye. That’s why I called you first. I didn’t want to alarm your detail.” She paused. “Guess it didn’t work.”
“What the hell’s going on Colleen?” her brother asked.
“Sir, if I may?” asked the stranger standing next to his sister.
The President nodded.
“Well, sir, there’s no way to say this without sounding crazy, but your planet is in grave and imminent danger.”
Continued from Day 20. Back to the Present
He’d been working for a month straight and when he worked, esophagitis he worked. He’d sleep just enough to keep his body from involuntarily shutting down. Otherwise, ed his mind was entirely dedicated to the task. And anyway, no rx on a military base you were either working or sleeping. There wasn’t much else to do. And after the amount of effort it took to get the doc back, he just needed to cut loose. Too bad he was about as isolated as someone could get without visiting the south pole, or the moon. The nearest night club was about ninety miles to the south. It didn’t matter, he needed to get out. So, he’d made a few calls and managed to convince a buddy to fly out from New York and chaperone his DB9 all the way to McCarran. Of course he paid his friend to fly first class both ways, with a generous per diem for his trouble.
“It’s what I call natural-state anti-gravity,” Rock said.
“You mean, like a permanent magnet as opposed to an electromagnet?”
“Exactly. An electromagnet acts like a permanent magnet so long as there’s current flowing through it. Shut it off and no more magnet. Relying on current flow for an anti-gravity device would be a disaster. Instead, I alter the state of a material so that it naturally negates the effects of gravity.”
“Rock, you’re a genius,” Kyle offered, with a smile. They’d just finished dinner and were chatting over coffee in the Army mess. A Private approached their table.
“Mister Johnson?”
“Yes?”
“A message for you sir.” The Private handed him a piece of paper and walked off.
Like all personnel at this facility, military or civilian, he wasn’t allowed any personal communications gear. So in lieu of a cell phone, he’d get his messages through the base switchboard. He unfolded the note. Car’s at McCarran, like you asked. Your stuff’s in the trunk. I’ll be at the Bellagio for a couple of days, if you want to hang. Have a good one. Gary. “If you’ll excuse me, Rock. I’ve got to go,” he said as he rose from his chair.
“No problem, my friend, I’ll see you later.”
Kyle made his way to the civilian barracks to grab a quick shower and brush his teeth. A half hour later he was cleaned up and climbing into his Cessna. “Tell Baines I’ll be back on base by noon tomorrow,” he told a member of the ground crew as he was shutting the cabin door.
The flight to McCarran was uneventful. He was happy to see that the ground crew had repaired his fuel gauge. Twenty-five minutes after taking off from runway 30, he was taxying up to the Las Vegas Executive Air Terminal. He parked the plane and walked over to the terminal parking lot. There it was, his baby, a titanium silver Aston Martin DB9. He popped open the trunk and found his travel bag. It was packed with everything he’d asked. He shut the trunk, got into the driver’s seat and fired up the the DB9’s twelve cylinder engine. A moment later he was merging onto East Tropicana Ave, heading north toward his Fairway Apartment at the Wynn tower suites. The only five-star, five-diamond resort in Vegas.
Continued from Day 10. Visitor
“Will you come with me? There’s something I need you to see, this ” he said, extending his hand.
“Where?”
“My world.”
This was going too fast. She’d only just met him a few moments ago. A real-life alien! Now he was asking her to go to his home world with him. How do you prepare for something like that? It was one of those moments in life where you just needed to decide. And of course, she knew what her answer would be. What it would have to be. It was the only answer she could possibly give. If she didn’t agree, she’d spend the rest of her life wondering what could have been. “Alright,” she replied.
He reached out to her, the jewel in his palm beginning to glow. As soon as his hand made contact with hers, their surroundings changed. The woods were gone, replaced by… what was that? Metal? Plastic? It was a translucent yet opaque and bright white. Everything was made of the material. The floors, the walls, everything. It felt like she was in a clean room and yet they were outside. They stood in front of a building that was so tall, she couldn’t see its top from where she stood. In fact, most of the buildings faded off into the deep blue sky.
Her host noted her curious look, “Our civilization is more technologically advanced than yours. We can build as high as we want without the worry of our buildings falling over.”
“Oh,” she said, still marvelling at her surroundings.
“Please, follow me,” he said, leading her into the building they were standing in front of. The doors disappeared as they approached and reappeared when they’d walked past. They walked over to group of white, circular pads. The material they were made of was slightly different, but still white. “These are a bit like your elevators, except that ours don’t have any moving parts. They’re based on the same technology that allows us to travel in space,” he said, stepping on one of the pads. He motioned for her to do the same.
She did and in an instant, their surroundings changed. Everything was still white, but the configuration of the room was different.
“We’re on the seventeen-thousand and twelfth floor.”
“Wow, really?”
“Yes. Come this way.” He said, walking past a pair of doors into a dimly lit, vaulted chamber. There were twelve people sitting in a semi-circle in the room. They looked similar to the form he’d revealed to her earlier in the woods on earth.
“Colleen Banks. We are the council of twelve,” an enveloping voice said. It sounded like it came from everywhere in the room, yet it was spoken softly, as if by a person standing next to her.
“Hello,” she replied. She wasn’t quite sure what else to say.
“Please, have a seat,” the voice said, a chair materializing behind her.
She sat down.
“We are the Tellurian people. Our civilization spans numerous planets across multiple galaxies. As you have no doubt been told, our people mastered space travel long ago with the creation of the Cassandra jewel. With our ability to traverse great distances instantaneously, we were able to locate and colonize suitable, uninhabited planets across the universe. As you can imagine, the Cassandra technology also allowed us to access resources that would normally be impossible to attain. Whole planets made entirely of rare ores were ripe for the picking. It was thus our civilization prospered.”
“It sounds like you’re doing alright. What could you possibly need me for?” she said.
“It may not seem like it from here, but beyond our planetary forcefield a war is raging. Our people are locked in a bloody conflict with the vicious Renaxi. They are after Cassandra.” A long pause. “They are also after another of our technologies.” Another pause. “Our people are on the threshold of a new age, miss Banks. One where we control not only space, but time itself.”
Her eyes grew wide. First space travel in the blink of an eye, and now time travel!?
“With the war underway, research into time travel was far too sensitive to conduct on one of our own planets. It would be vulnerable to Renaxi attack. We needed to hide it on another world. One that was far away, unknown to the Renaxi. We chose Earth. Our lead researcher traveled to your planet and began his work in earnest. He managed to integrate himself into an Earth government’s secret research facility where he was able to pursue his work without interruption. Everything was proceeding as planned when we suddenly lost contact with him. It’s been about four of your Earth years now that we’ve been unable to contact him.”
“So you want me to try and find him? Is that why you came to me?”
“No. We want to warn your people. A Renaxi spy found out about Earth and they’ve dispatched a battle fleet to your home planet. They want the time travel technology and they won’t stop until they have it.”
“So you want me to warn Earth?”
“Not Earth, just your brother. He is still the President of your ‘United States,’ isn’t he?”
Continued in Day 24. Grave and Imminent Danger