Barnabas loves Theory of Knowledge

I've always been a crusader of sorts for Australian pronunciation and spelling.

For no good reason, mind you. Sure, back in primary school there was always the "right" and "wrong" way to spell. But primary school simplifies a lot of things into black and white. It would be more than difficult to discuss this sort of thing with hyperactive nine-year-olds, most of which had one too many cups of red cordial at recess. So we dumb it down. As my Chemistry teacher of the last two years puts it, we lie. In much the same way, we tell eighth-graders that electrons orbit the nucleus in nice, neat, fixed paths called "shells", because there's no chance in hell all of them will absorb any discussion of electron clouds, orbitals, and the fact that an electron is both a particle and a wave. Heck, chances are that that, my present understanding of electrons, is itself a lie. Or so my very brief discussions of quantum physics with Jordan suggest.

But I digress. Primary school passed, leaving behind a set of rigid spelling and grammar laws in my head, along with the idea that anything else is just wrong. Incorrect. Falsch. Another lie. And then year eleven came, and with it Theory of Knowledge. (Most. Relevant. Subject. EVER.)

The ToK syllabus divides the continuum of knowledge into what it calls "ways of knowledge": sensory perception, language, reason and emotion. (Bear with me, now.) It also acknowledges that these divisions are artificial, much like the boundaries between the colours of the rainbow. These are not discrete things. There is no place where you can draw a line and say that everything before it is red, and that there is no red beyond that boundary. It's a spectrum. ROYGBIV? A useful teaching tool. A good way to simplify things for those who can't grasp the next level. But, in essence, a lie. The only reason indigo is there is so that there would be seven colours, because seven is a cool number. (Essentially.) And what about the cyan that you can clearly see in rainbows? Etcetera ad infinitum. In much the same way, treating these ways of knowing as four discrete processes that interact heavily with each other, instead of four regions of a continuum, but essentially one thing, is useful for teaching.

And there I go, digressing again. My point is, when we studied language as a way of knowing, it was stressed that there is no "correct" way to spell. There is a way to spell which is deemed "correct" by particular portions of society (which often disagree with each other), but when it comes to absolute, objective correctness? No. Try to claim otherwise and you'll hear cries of You Fail Linguistics Forever. And in a few hundred years, that spelling? It'll probably be wrong. Just because "arse" was spelled "erys" back in Chaucer's day (sorry, first example I could think of. Go the Miller's Tale) doesn't mean you can use the latter now; people will just stare and ask you to explain. Not good communication. (Another digression: that isn't to say that uniformity of language conventions is a bad thing. Just think of the textbook eraser-rubber-condom confusion between Australians and Americans. Uniformity would reduce this type of confusion to virtually nil.)

So there is no "right" or wrong way of spelling. Or pronunciation, in much the same vein. Why crusade for the Aussie ways to do so? Because I want to. (Take THAT, reason.) Cultural sovereignty and all that. And that's all there is to it. So I diligently ensure that I use "colour", not "color"; favour "-ise" over "-ize", "-re" over "-er", and so on. Not that I bring that up if a friend asks me to proofread something. (Pedantry should be saved for the important things, like making sure your browser window isn't a pixel too tall. Oh yeah, also grammar.) And, as is inevitable with this sort of thing, I'm a hypocrite. I love the contraction "ain't". I think "y'all" is a brilliant solution to a stupid ambiguity. One thing I've never shifted on, though, is the pronunciation of the letter "Z". "Zed". Not "zee", you degenerate. "ZED".

Which is why today, when I was detailing the evidence for the existence of main electron energy levels and sub-levels, I was more than a tad surprised to hear my mind's voice use "zee". (Yes, that's the reason I'm writing this blog post. I've never denied that I'm a nerd.) So (naturally) I tried to figure out the rules I was subconsciously following.

And it turns out that they're ridiculously convoluted. Awesome. Spelling words out? Zed. Alphabet song? Zed. "Z" used as a symbol for atomic number? Zee. "Z-axis"? "Z-score"? "Z" as a pronumeral? Zed. Huh.

My subconscious evidently hates me.

In which I procrastinate

[Ladies and gentlemen, it gives me great pride to present to you the product of an uninspired evening: a 2 149-word series of digressions. You have been warned.]

Given my looming exams, I've spent a foolish amount of time tonight reading Websnark. That and the fact that I'm blogging probably indicate how procrastinationy (that's a word now) I'm feeling tonight. (Incidentally, CURSE THIS HEAT.) Note that these facts do not accurately reflect how nervous I am about the exams I have next week, for nearly three weeks.

Incidentally, if Jordan and/or Louise are reading this, I do hope that the fact that I'm having unhealthy amounts of leisure time isn't rubbing the difference in our exam timetables into your faces. Think about the fact that I'll be sitting through exams while you're relaxing! And/or that your summer break is (at least) two weeks longer!

This isn't really going to be a coherent blog post — in fact, it was going to be a tweet, right up until about three seconds into a swig of water shortly after my shower. (I was going to joke that that number wasn't pulled out of thin air, but one of the English texts I was revising today features a character possibly rendered obsessive-compulsive by the fact that his divorce essentially took him out of his daughter's life, so on second thought that falls into Dude Not Funny territory at the moment. Yes, this parenthetical comprises most of the paragraph — what of it?) Anyway, this is really more a quick succession of various digressions.



So, Websnark. Awesomely well-written, talks a lot about webcomics (do note that that reflects the authors' interests more than the conceit of the blog), what's not to like? I was going to place a link to a particular Crowning Post of Awesome (in terms of quality of writing) here, but given that that'll likely render the rest of this blog post unread, so it gets to go at the bottom instead. Bleheheheheheh. (As I think I've successfully trained Pris to complete this quote, she can do it for me. Bleck! Oh, wait. Dammit.)

I think I'm going to need to find a way to curtail my infovorous tendencies, though. (In-FOV-or-ous? In-FOE-vore-ous? There's a theory which suggests that when information is set in front of us, we're practically programmed to devour it all. Hence "infovore". This poses a problem with the advent of the interblag, which renders more information than we'll be able to process in our entire lives several keystrokes and/or clicks away.) What was I saying..? Oh yeah. My tendency to archive binge (that is, the ENTIRE thing, as happened with Questionable Content, Sam and Fuzzy and Scary Go Round, to name particularly long-running comics which I have read in their entirety) will prove downright dangerous when mixed with a blog mainly written by a dude who (a.) writes really well, and (b.) tends to write a lot. As in a lot. Case in point: he needed to submit a statement of intent to marry because his now-wife was from another country. A single statement would have sufficed; instead he submitted this. Oh, and (c.) said writer has been doing this since January of 2004. Anyway, it seems to be a good thing (for my free time this summer, that is) that I don't read the majority of webcomics about which he posts. Although the fact that he finds them good enough to write about may mean that I will spend most of this summer archive binging them instead.

Several short digressions that have sprung from that paragraph:
 I realise posting this is, in a way, surrendering my Grammar Natzee licence, but what is the difference between "that" and "which"?
 In spite of the fact that my favourite corruption of the word "internet" is "interblag", I find myself using "interwubs" instead most of the time. And, when the alternatives are taken out of a vacuum, "interwubs" comes out on top in funniness. Must resolve this issue. (Digression of a digression: curious that "interwubs" is absent from that xkcd. Was the term not around back in 2006? [Digression of a digression of a di—OK, I'm just messing with you. Did your face contort in horror?])
 My inner Comma Party member of the Grammar Nazi parliament (yes that is a horrible extended metaphor and yes I am dropping grammar here deliberately for effect) twitches at "Oh yeah". 'Course, "Oh, yeah" just looks pretentious. Wait, that's half the reason why I am a Grammar Natzee. Hmm.



OK. Topic two. A bit of wangst ahead, apologies in advance.

You might have noticed that the register of this post is (as far as I can tell, anyway) significantly higher than my norm. (Although I hope that the tone isn't too far removed from said norm; a blog that isn't fun to read is a blog that isn't read, y'know?) Something that I've noticed about me — and something that I dislike intensely about me — is that in a good deal of my conversations in meatspace, I end up emulating the verbal mannerisms, so to speak — nonstandard tones, bits of vocabulary, et cetera — of one or more people I'm talking to. As in, beyond just being more snarky with people I know better and the like. Gratuitous examples of each follow.

There's a person I know who has a habit of ending regular sentences with a rise in pitch, instead of a drop, something most people reserve for questions. (This person shall remain nameless as no-one who reads this blog, as far as I know, knows them, and I don't want anyone to define them solely by this paragraph.) Unsurprisingly, this often makes the person seem very unconfident in what they say, and perhaps, with a little extrapolation, spineless. Not that they are either of these things. I caught myself emulating this in a conversation with them.

Second example won't be as awkwardly anonymous , as (woo alliteration) in this case I'm the only one that can come out looking bad. Term 4, 2004; first term of year nine. Extension plus two people were at Bigga for the infamous Pine Bluff camp. (Good times, good times. Who came up with Cardamon, again? Memory's saying Nish or Tam. Hmm.) I had been on good terms with Jordan for about a month (a by-product of actually talking to him. No, "GIVE ME BACK MY EFFING PENCILCASE/BOW/CELLO/CELLO CASE" doesn't count). Basically, my point is that I had known him (properly) for a short enough time that his nonstandard vocabulary stood out. And yeah, a lot of it worked its way into my own vocab. Which is fine, except I (according to the memory) began sounding a bit too much like him. This culminated when, at the top of an abseil in the Genolan Caves, something triggered the phrase "not cool, not cool". As in, I said it in unison with him. UNISON. Cue me feeling creepy, and, if my memory serves me correctly, cue him dropping said phrase from his own vocab. Ironically, the phrase sums up that moment perfectly. So yeah, not cool.

Interestingly, this isn't always the case. I've noticed that I don't do this with verbal mannerisms I actively dislike (hence the constant surliness I display around my brother which I am attempting, and failing, to remedy), nor does this happen (as far as I can tell) on IM. Which might make this Websnark-influenced elevation of register an anomaly.

In any case, this is one thing which I hope will diminish and die as I'm forced out of my comfortable bubble next year.



Topic three is thankfully pretty much wangst-free.

In an IM conversation (because "convo" just feels wrong in a written context outside of IM) with Jordan last week, I mentioned that the purpose of this blog has shifted somewhat. In my first post, I stated that I was recording events because I was sick of forgetting almost everything that happened in a given year.

Although the act of recounting does presumably reinforce an event in one's memory, my intent was to have a set of dated journals which I could reread to better recall a year. That probably won't be happening. I ended up on my second blog post ever a few weeks ago, and frankly, it was downright painful to read. It's like finding an old floppy with your homework from year two on it. (Yes, I have done just that. I have, amongst other things, a report on the digestive system of cows sitting on my hard drive. No, you can't have it.) Everything about it — phrasing, tone, heck, even content at times — makes you want to bang your head on the nearest wall.

The fact I feel this way about my posts of about eight months ago suggests that in eight months' time, I will have a similar response to this post. (I shudder to think of my future reaction to the first posts.)

Anyway, I think this is one of several factors which have led to a rather severe drop in enthusiasm towards this blog. My erratic update schedule notwithstanding, I did have constant "I need to set aside time to blog about this" moments for the first part of this year. Several things happened. The subject of this section, of course. Year twelve. And perhaps most importantly of all, Twitter.

Ah, Twitter. I joined out of interest shortly after taking note of the badge that Jeph Jacques has over at Questionable Content, and have since become all but addicted to the thing. (And dragged a friend into it along with me, who then proceeded to drag several of her own.) It's basically a microblogging service: whenever you have something you want to share, you can submit a 140-character "tweet" via computer or mobile phone, which then shows up on your profile, and the Twitter homepages of people who are watching you (ie. friends). Said people can then reply if they want, although it's considered bad form by some to carry out what are essentially IM conversations via Twitter. As an added bonus, if a person you're watching replies to a person you're not watching, that update doesn't show up on your homepage.

What Twitter presented to me was an opportunity to share any events of my day which I deemed notable, without devoting the hours I need for a blog post. (No exaggeration.) Net result is that I now tend to consider events tweetworthy rather than blogworthy, and when I do remember I have this blog, half the time everything I would have said has already been put on Twitter. Although Jordan has (correctly) pointed out that the archiving of tweets is pretty lackluster, the fact that I'm no longer intending to reread blog posts makes that a moot point.

Which brings me (in a hugely longwinded and distracted way) to the main point of this topic. In my first post, I said that wanted to post some musings about life, religion, ethics and similar topics here, something which, eight months later, I have yet to do. I don't think I ever grasped just how much time would be needed for such posts when I raised the idea: they'd essentially be a whole bunch in-depth Theory of Knowledge essays.

(Digression: this coming from the dude who loved ToK from the very beginning, and ended up essentially choosing it for his extended essay as well. Seriously, Theory of Knowledge has been one of my favourite subjects over the past two years, coming out just under German because it's hard to top a subject where the best thing you can do is chat. Albeit in a foreign language, but chat nonetheless.)

I presently have two potential topics sitting at the back of my mind: (1) profanity, and (2) judging people by their spelling and/or grammar. In order to save content for these future posts, I won't elaborate on the topics, although Jordan can rest assured that I should be settling on his side for the latter topic. Just.

In case you're convinced I'm just suffering from late night incoherence and can't possibly mean what those paragraphs seem to say: yes, I am intending to write essays during my post-high school break. On a subject which I never need to study again. I deny all charges of masochism.



It would seem that I have successfully procrastinated away the rest of the night, so I'd better get some sleep so I can get to the library early tomorrow and begin my penance. Here's the promised link to that awesome Websnark post. Fair warning: it's almost three times as long as this post has been (6 201 vs. 2 149 words). While totally worth it, yes, it's going to eat even more of your time; depending on your reading speed and available free time, you may want to schedule time for it or pretend I never linked to it in the first place.

Final digression: is it just me, or did the register of this post drop as I wrote it?

Green and white

(So evidently when I say ‘I'll try to get [a new post] up sometime next week’, it means ‘I’ll procrastinate as much as normal, and make the deadline with hours to spare’. Go me.)

In any case, three guesses as to what this blog’s about. The number of times I’ve exhibited patriotism (ha) for Trinity Grammar on the whole can be counted on one hand (the music and language departments, though…), but yeah, this’ll be one of them.

So.

It’s strange, but the rest of the thanks-for-coming proceedings were a bit of a blur compared to the K-12 dinner. (Yes, Jordan, for reasons other than the fact I’m blogging about them a month later.) I guess the WUT YEAR TWELVE IS OVER shock wore off or something.

Friday of that same week, we had our house dinner. Everyone bar one showed up – which is in itself amazing, given our attendance record, and yet still only eight people (woo smallest house) – to an Italian/Australian place in Newtown; we had a great time chatting. It was equal parts sad and amusing to see a few of the guys drinking from under the table. Goooo 12 Wynn Jones '08!

The last week of term was nice and relaxed, with all assignments finally in. On that (the following) Friday, nearly all of year 12 turned up to school at 0700 so that we could head to the beach. Which, for some reason, was in the national park… I’d deliberately left my iPod in my locker, too. In the end, I got an unexpected amount of conversation in (another stab in the face of my introversion? hopefully), and my knack for playing music with my brain (finally) came in handy.

But in any case, screw that, I didn't go to the beach for the bus trip.

It probably goes without saying that we had great fun. Watching some of the guys carrying teachers into the water, carrying Yatty into the water, burying Matt in the sand (albeit badly).... And yes, Jordan got a few suss shots of me helping to write "TGS WAS HERE" into Matt's coffin. (Price of those photos is a seperate defenestration of Jordan from the top of the Founders block per second of viewing.)

Got back to school, sat through the valedictory assembly (which, unsurprisingly, is only slightly less boring when you know the people being named), got my 15 seconds on the stage (with our 'wonderful house captain', thank you Mrs Witheridge). Because seating of year 12s was one house per row, we, the smallest house, had practically a whole chair's worth of space between seats. Hilarious. (Similarly hilarious: only taking up half the stage when we assembled. For comparison, Jordan's house spanned the whole stage.)

After the assembly, we headed to the music block, grabbed some photos with the teachers, had a long chat, then bumped into the St Julians in compass court, and had a looooooooong chat. Darren joined us after a bit.

The valedictory dinner was perhaps the biggest blur of them all. We (ie. me and mum) turned up just as they started shepherding people to their seats, and then, um. There were speeches, good food (but small portions), grabbing photos with any teacher that knew our names, and egads it's 2230 already? Basically sums the night up. I have to say, seeing the whole grade in suits (smart casual) was amusing. Sorry, I mean, the whole grade barring Jordan. He can elaborate on that one.

There a few other relevant events of note since then. On the following Wednesday, we had a sort of Bible study farewell dinner at Haberfield. Again, great conversation, a few photos, swapping contact details, that sort of thing. Of particular note was an animated debate as to whether Muggers is an introvert (in spite of his protests, he isn't), and the food. Bish, the teacher who picked the restaurant, wasn't able to come because his son was sick, but he had arranged a sort of all-you-can-eat basic pizzas deal for us. Good food, but served very sloooowly. As in, 3 pizzas minute-1 slow. Given that we had a ravenous table of fifteen that amounted to one slice per half hour, two if you were lucky. We also weren't aware that drinks weren't included until we got the bill. (Seriously, $200 worth of soft drink? Aaagggghh.) But all in all, 'twas a great night.

The other thing: last week was speech day. Which meant two days of juggling revision classes with orchestra preparation. Given that I don't really have trouble understanding the various syllabi, I ended up going to four of six rehearsals (and thus two of six classes). Things came together nicely, and I think we sounded pretty okay at the final thing (hooray for being the first year in which we managed to play two pieces on a single term's practice!). The venue really sucked, though. I'm not gonna whine about it in much detail, but the acoustic, the PA, the heat, the lighting (it matters when the wind can't see the conductor)... A--, would not hire again. That and Luna Park really is a strange place for your last speech day. Ah wells. Good news is that the music department's looking in to hiring a proper hall for a performance of those pieces - Mars, the Bringer of War; and Finlandia - sometime next year. Needless to say, that would be awesome.

OK, I think I need to rinse out my mouth after all that reminiscing. Back to study for me, all the best to Jordan and Louise (who I hope are not wasting time on my incoherence right now), who are slogging their way through the HSC at the moment.

Peace out.

Deep dive

EDIT (20081010, aka Friday): Yeah, I promised I'd write today. However, spring allergies have rendered me unable to work all day, and left me in a foul mood, which I figure is less-than-optimal for writing about happy end-of-school proceedings. Sorry, I'll try to get this up sometime next week.

I've had Jordan, whose legendary spekking is about to be immortalised) poking me all week because of my glacial update pace. So this is ... [dramatic suspense] ... NOT going to be a proper blog post. Yet.
(200810031042) JoRdAn: u should blog more
(
200810031042) Barnabas: I know
(
200810031042) JoRdAn: like say before u forget
(
200810031042) JoRdAn: say mabe a short one on UR LAST DAY OF SCHOOL EVER
(
200810031042) Barnabas: I won't have forgotten [by] next friday, relax
(
200810031042) JoRdAn: no
(
200810031042) JoRdAn: valedictory dood
(
200810031042) JoRdAn: just post stuff about it
(
200810031042) Barnabas: I'll write one next fri
(
200810031042) Barnabas: just takes too long to write the damned things
I will be devoting some time to drafting one on Friday. Until then...

I was messing around on the piano again today, and I had another go at reducing all of "Another side" (the music that plays during the Kingdom Hearts Final Mix secret movie). And failed. But my brother heard me playing the familiar tune and asked for sheet music. I don't deny that it's short and boring, but if you're interested, I uploaded it. The .MID is, as usual, an inferior reflection (which has no concept of legato, nor ritardando).

That said, if you haven't seen the cinematic from which this music hails, you should. Some of the best use of sound effects as music that I've ever heard. (For instance, I don't feel that the piece is complete without the "shoom" noise as the text moves about at the climax. It's not in the soundtrack.)
 Another side [YOUTUBE / MIDI / PDF]
Although I linked the full video, I couldn't get anything other than the piano/choir bits to work, so I used the awkward-sounding couple of bars used in Kingdom Hearts II to loop the music to skip the middle.
In lieu of further content, here's a reason why anyone with a sense of humour should read Indexed: [original graph] [comments 1 2 3 4 5]

Also added some more (yes, even more) comics to the recommended reading, and finally put in a link to my Twitter account. Whoops.

See you Friday. (By which time I hope to have "Mars, the Bringer of War" OUT OF MY HEAD. Dadada dum dum dumdum dum...)