Blessed by the Potato

You may recall reading (and if you don’t live in London, laughing) about our woes with record snowfalls here in London this year. The snow squalls were bizarre in their specificity, these narrow finger-like bands of cloud streaming off Lake Huron, arrows shooting straight for London. Towns just 30 minutes away to either side still had green lawns in some cases. I just realized now that I may have caused this series of supernatural storms via the application of accidental weather witchcraft.

You see, just before this all started, I was starting to decorate the office for winter (read: procrastinating on my thesis) by cutting out paper snowflakes from scrap paper (and I have a lot of scrap paper on my desk). I then hung them around the office at important power nodes, including a large tissue-paper snowflake guarding my filing cabinet. Perhaps summoning the most power weather magick was a string of snowflakes, of all different sizes, with at least one cut out by other members of the office, that was then itself hung from snowflake garland. This multiplicative effect of snowflake on snowflake, combined with suspension from the ceiling in the psychic centre of the room may ultimately have been too much for the physical realm to bear, and snow squall after snow squall was summoned up and directed directly at London until finally well over a meter of snow blanketed the supernatural signal and it’s dread message could no longer be received in the humid airs above Lake Huron.

To all the residents of London, I’m deeply sorry for this irresponsible — though accidental — use of the dark arts, and I promise it will never happen again.

Was it a whole month ago that I wrote:

…today I seemed to pass through that psychological barrier where it goes from being this impossible wall to climb, to being something that ‘hey, I can do!’ There are still a lot of pieces to put together, but it’s starting to look like the pieces will go together in the end, so I will finish it.

Now just a few weeks later and that psychological peace and steady, incremental accomplishment has gone right out the window. The last two weeks I’ve had just terrible writer’s block. That happens disparagingly often with science writing in large part because I care. It’s important that I write something that communicates a complex idea well, and also that what I write is accurate and backed up by ample references to the literature. And by actually caring about the quality I seem to just get locked up in a writer’s block loop where I’ll start a sentence or paragraph, then decide I don’t like it, go back to the paper I was referencing, rewrite it, decide I don’t like it… ad nauseum.

It doesn’t make sense, people tell me all the time that I’m a good writer, (and try to trick me into co-authoring screenplays with them) and I don’t have any problem writing on the blog here (look! I’m doing it now!). That’s partly because I know that this kind of writing doesn’t matter: the whole future trajectory of my life is not going to depend on the content and quality of my blog. My PhD thesis… maybe. But I have to write something, so my process so far has been to not interrupt the brief productive runs that come except for the very most urgent of biological necessities — which does not include sleep. I get myself good and stressed and sleep-deprived and it becomes much easier to not care so much and actually get something down on the page.

But I’m sure you’ve spotted the delicate balance that must be struck: too sleep deprived, and there’s an obvious deleterious effect on writing output. I read a paper and forget what I read before I can even get a summary into my annotated bibliography or a few lines about it in my manuscript. I make grammatical mistakes, get sloppy. I actually don’t mind that part too much — if I can at least get something on the page, it can be edited later. But worst of all is when I get out to the other side of the productive middle ground and find myself losing time to staring at the wall and clicking the top of a clicky pen for a half hour straight (incidentally, this is why I’m not allowed clicky pens at work).

I don’t quite know what to do at the moment. There’s a big gulf between recognizing the source of writer’s block, and actually crossing over to getting stuff done in a healthy, productive way. Our work holiday party is tonight, and though I’ve already got seats reserved I’m thinking of skipping to just keep writing now and sleep then, rather than trying to grab some sleep now. I know that at this rate I’d probably only get 100 or so words out in the whole evening, but I also just don’t want to go and deal with people right now. I’m a mess: exhausted, twitchy, stressed, and vibrating on a level mortal consciousnesses will never truly comprehend as my body becomes one with the stuff that underlies our universe’s existence (that is: caffeine).

From RFD, but not an uncommon viewpoint:

Basically, the argument of the pro-bubble crowd here has been: ‘it happened in the US, therefore it must happen here’. But they fail to appreciate the magnitude of the mortgage mess that created the US bubble. Canadian banks are much more prudent, and we never had that sub-prime mess here. It is safe to say that 99% of home-buyers here are able to afford their mortgage payments in the long-term, therefore there is no ‘bubble’.

One sad thing about the US subprime contagion was that it lead many to believe that such terrible, terrible mortgage lending was a necessary condition for a real estate bust to take place. It’s entirely possible to have a real estate bubble form even with ostensibly sane lending — we had it happen here in 1989, and several times before that. Back then property speculation was much harder to accomplish than it is now… but it still happened. Bad lending standards can make bubbles inflate faster and higher, and the waves of foreclosures that then follow can make the correction sharper and deeper, but the bad lending is not the bubble. Over paying for real estate (or whatever asset is in question) for whatever reason is the bubble.

Imagine if you would a small, remote town. Let’s call it “Ft. Mac” for the sake of this example. Then, have some event happen that changes what people are willing to pay for real estate in that town, for instance the opening of a new business, call it “Tarco”, that’s paying high wages to workers. More people decide to move to Ft. Mac, chasing the money. But, there aren’t enough houses built and ready for the influx of new workers. People get into bidding wars for houses, paying far more than they ordinarily would so they they can get a shot at one of the lucrative jobs with a roof over their heads too. The construction guys move in and start building more houses. Eventually though, the hiring spree at Tarco peters out, and the influx to the town stabilizes. Now when a new worker comes to town and is looking for a house, they’re the only one bidding. Without the insanity of a bidding war, they don’t see the logic in paying 5X their income for a house in Ft. Mac, and so they don’t… prices fall back down.

This little story is the core of how price distortions can happen and later correct. No need for the construction guys to over-build and create a glut of houses that will never be lived in (though in real life that often happens and makes the bubbles worse); no need for speculators to buy houses and take out mortgages they have no intention of servicing (but in real life the speculators would probably show up too), and then get foreclosed on when they can’t flip for a profit. It doesn’t have to be real estate in the parable, it could be playstations, internet stocks, or tulip bulbs. Leverage definitely adds to the severity of these situations, especially when handed out like candy on Halloween, but it’s not a necessary part to the story.

So NaNoWriMo — National Novel Writing Month — is coming up, also known as November. I am not attempting to write a novel this year, just like I haven’t any other year, because that is just crazy balls.

I am trying to finish my thesis though, which is nearly as much writing (and harder writing at that, since it involves 4X as much reading for references, etc.).

It’s a daunting task, but today I seemed to pass through that psychological barrier where it goes from being this impossible wall to climb, this “oh my god, what did I get myself into, and how will I ever finish this?!” type thing, to being something that hey, I can do! There are still a lot of pieces to put together, but it’s starting to look like the pieces will go together in the end, so I will finish it.

…though I’m not going to get it done on time :( Once again I’m at risk of blowing through another deadline. My next milestone (or in the corporate parlance, “deliverable”) is set for this coming Monday, and I’m already 2 weeks behind, so somehow I’ve got to get 3 weeks worth of work done this week — and the planned timeline was a gruelling hellmarch pace to begin with! It makes me think it’s just not going to happen. Especially with Halloween festivities essentially making the prospect of any weekend productivity a non-starter.

And of course, one doesn’t get two weeks behind on the timeline without facing up to the realization that maybe the timeline was a little aggressive/optimistic in the first place.

As much as I’d love to get things squared away for this term (and save nearly $2700 in tuition), just seeing that there is an end in sight, that things are actually coming together, is a big relief, even if that end may still be half a year away yet.

Halloween is fast approaching, so it’s long past time for those hearties going as pirates to figure out their facial hair, especially if the natural approach to costuming is to be taken.

A pirate’s beard is an integral part of his outward persona. While each pirate’s beard is unique to them, and can be as fluid as the sea herself, there are several broad categories to keep in mind:

Long and unkempt: face it, pirates spend a lot of time at sea, and beard-trimming falls pretty far down on the personal hygiene list of priorities. So a long, unkempt look is great for a pirate. Bonus points, of course, for tentacles. As a practical matter though, it’s a tough look to pull off, as it will require months of dedication and celibacy. People on the bus may think you’re a touch off, as the shipwrecked look is not a good look for anyone who’s not a pirate. If the pirate inside your soul is dead set on the full facial FSM, perhaps prosthetics are the way to go.

For most of the other options, one can start with a respectable, scholarly full beard and trim as needed on Halloween:

The Swashbuckler: Swashbucklers need a little facial hair to add to the mystique and danger of being an expert duellist. Often a moustache with just a little hint of hair on the chin, ala Will Turner, or that other famous pirate of the Caribbean. Other notable swashbucklers have stuck to just a moustache, with the Dread Pirate Roberts utilizing just a thin trace of hair above his upper lip. A thin, neat, focused bit of facial hair is important to the swashbuckler: it conveys the message that they are a refined gentleman that can wield a rapier with finesse, yet are just wild and mysterious enough to be truly dangerous. This is someone who’s in control of their dark side, but it is definitely there; not your average cutlass-swinging bit of cannon fodder.

The Goatee: A goatee is a good all-around facial accent that remains faintly sinister. Excellent for the quiet, brooding types of pirate who don’t need anything fancy to get the job done, and still remains work-appropriate.

The Captain Hook: I’ve never seen a real, live person able to pull off the cartoonish curly moustache of Captain Hook, but if you’ve got the follicles for it, then it can be a good variant of the swashbuckler. Sinister.

Muttonchops: Not strictly recognizable as a pirate beard, muttonchops nonetheless can be an excellent choice (after all, the rest of the costume will mark you as a pirate). Muttonchops are basically the opposite of the Swashbuckler, both in the areas of your face to shave, and also in that they signify you as one of the cutlass-swinging cannon-fodder working pirates. Yarr. A quick shower and outfit change and you could even pass for Royal Navy. Or Wolverine.

The 5th Day: A version of the lost at sea full beard is to simply go with a nice 5-day shadow, completely untrimmed. It signifies the roughneck nature of piracy without requiring the artistry or upkeep of the other options. It can also represent the desperation of a well-heeled Navy man fallen on hard times, a man with no attachment or special love for his pirate beard, but who’s in no position to keep up a clean shaven facade.

Have a happy Halloween!

Some short notes:

Jenn writes: “Jenn is willing her husband to stop singing christmas carols. Please. someone make him stop.”

There are only two capital crimes left in Canada: treason, and singing Christmas carols before Halloween. I’m not saying that this is a death threat, but actions have consequences, Kyle. Legally sanctioned consequences.

It’s always been a bit of a challenge filling up the old Halloween playlist, so I’m happy to report that I’ve listened to the lyrics of Lady Gaga’s Monster and Teeth, and hooyeah, those are Halloween songs all right. (Monster is easy, you only need to be slightly literally-minded; “show me your teeth” becomes Halloweeny once you’ve got vampires on the brain).

I also updated the background images for the season. You may need to hit reload to see them.