updates – hello again, world

Hi everyone.

I was thinking about making a blog post where I complain about things, and talk about how stupid things are, and then everyone feels bad, but then I didn’t. Nobody really cares, and nobody really likes them that much either, and I don’t have time to spend on it anyway. However, my next entry in the “pet peeves” series does have a subject, and I’ll post it as soon as I make it, and make it as non-whiny, ridiculous-but-serious as I can.

That being said, I’ll try to have something funny soon, and maybe something musical (musical stuff will be at http://a2020vision.bandcamp.com/ rather than directly here, of course – though I guess I should experiment with embedding sooner or later). Also, as soon as I get “free time,” my real website will get updated again (since it’s nearly a year out-of-date now).

I’m going to Nashville this weekend. I’m really hoping I survive, and remain relatively sane, but it’s really more questionable than you might think. But, whatever.

Anyway, I’ll see you later I guess; even though I’m from the Internet, I have to sleep once in a while… please enjoy the following aminated film until then.

...

Intro to C Programming for those who are Fed Up With It All

#include <stdio.h>

int main(void)
{
      printf("Hell, world...\n");
      return 0;
}

//sorry.

It was actually kind of comfy…

My friends’ apartment originally came with a sofa and a similarly-constructed (as in, identical, except room for 1 person instead of 3) chair. I used to go up there and hang out an average of twice a week, and they were good places for sitting.

One day I went up there to find a third piece of furniture! It looked like the other two, but it was midway in size between them. I asked about it, and they said “the couch and the chair had a kid.”

I promptly named it the “love-child love seat,” and the name stuck.

algebra I…

[grr + rawr][drat + carp] = (x + 7)(2x + 3) = 2x2 + 17x + 21

“Curses, foiled again.”

My “retirement plan”

Earlier today I overheard (as in “was sitting between two people having”) a conversation about their futures. Specifically, how they were both going to become “Crazy Dog Ladies” (as in, like “Crazy Cat Ladies” except they both like dogs better than cats, and if you don’t know what a Crazy Cat Lady is, I suggest you watch some more The Simpsons), and possibly live on the same block and creep people out together. This, along with a comment from one of my former professors earlier this week (to the effect of “you’ll be as busy as you are now until you retire”) caused me to consider my own retirement plans, since I expect my situation to be similar but not identical.

Unfortunately, becoming a Crazy Cat Lady isn’t really an option that’s open to me. I like cats well enough, and I’m fairly sure I’ll be quite crazy by the time I retire, but there’s the whole thing where I have an unmatched 23rd chromosome pair (e.g. one X and one Y, as opposed to two X’s) and refuse to get that changed in any way, genotypically or phenotypically. Fortunately, I have another, much better option, which doesn’t necessarily involve any kind of fuzzy animals that grow up with you and you get all attached to and then they die.

I’m going to be a “mad scientist.” And composer.

As a chemical engineer, I naturally will have all the knowledge I need to set up my own lab. Of pretty much any type. I’m already a composer, so that’s no issue either. Since I’ll likely be a lifelong bachelor, I don’t have to worry about anyone else prohibiting this, and causing the kinds of problems that make such a choice difficult. Likewise, if I eventually get an awesome job and don’t have other people to spend cash on, I’ll probably save it up so I can do all the awesome stuff I’m about to list.

Since I’m never content unless I’m busy with something, I’ll have plenty of time to do all the awesome stuff I’m about to list too.

I will need a house with a bunch of land. I am very used to living near large bodies of fresh water, but I want somewhere rather secluded too. Maybe somewhere in lower Michigan. I’ll have a lot of surrounding land, on which will grow a forest with a single path leading to my manor. Since this is many years in the future, I fully expect Star Wars Episode VI – style “speeder bikes” to be available, so I’ll have a couple of those. And a canoe, and such. I’ll need a larger vehicle for going extended distances, but I’ll figure that one out later.

Power will be generated by my own wind turbines, solar turbines, fuel cells, what have you. Fuel… I will create a unit that can take grass, and convert it to biofuel (this is, in fact, something I’ve considered doing as part of a career, so by the time I retire I’ll certainly have it done, right?). Heating and cooling will be done by a geothermal heat pump (“geothermal” meaning “ground-heat” rather than “magma-heat”).

And I’ll likely need a lot of power. You see, I’m going to have a rather modern house, with computers and electric appliances and all that good sh…stuff. I’m thinking a two-story house, possibly rather dreary-looking. You know, the kind you expect some crazy, rich old wizard to live in. There will be a small (probably narrow-gauge), likely electrical-powered railroad servicing various parts of the estate, as well. So, already, there’s a lot that uses up that home-generated power…

Not to mention my traditional basement laboratory.

That’s “laboratory” pronounce “lah-bore-a-torry,” of course. Bare concrete floors, concrete walls with steel supporting stuffs, high ceiling, long winding staircase next to dramatically oversized electrical switches, constantly-running chemical experiments involving phosphorescent and bubbling fluids on a central table, and lots of unidentifiable electronic stuff constantly giving off sparks. One entire wall will be a computer, complete with many incomprehensible lights and dials (most of which won’t have any meaning, but will look rather cool). One computer terminal at which to do my music composing, as well.

So what we have so far is one wall with a computer, central chemical and electrical experiment areas, and one wall taken up by the stairs and electrical switches. I still have two walls and some floorspace to work with, hmm?

So one wall will have a pipe organ. And synthesizer. There will be a central console, from which I can control multiple synthesizers and the pipe organ (through, of course, a computer running a specially-built version of Linux, kernel 3.5.3 + 7i). And a theramin. This way, I can play dramatic pipe-organ music and creepy theramin sounds when my unsuspecting visitors discover that the nice old man giving them shelter during a terrible Michigan winter storm is, in fact, Nick Leep!!!.

Behind the organ-pipes will be a wall of speakers. The entire wall will be covered with speakers, and the entire wall will be speakers. Speakers.

Why?

Well, a little ways back from the organ-console will be a podium. There will be enough space cleared around this podium for a small orchestra, and provisions for recording them as they play (of course). Next to this podium, of course, will be a guitar stand, for my then-current-favorite guitar. Did I mention that, among the “electronic experiments” will be several partially gutted guitars, in various states of decay or necromancy? I think I did now.

Now, I have one more wall, and I think I’ll use that for instrument storage. Most of it will be, basically, a rip-off of GC’s “wall of guitars.” I’ll have Franken-guitars, Strats, LP’s, SG’s, custom-made… and it will be awesome. Acoustics, electrics, etc. All amplified by my own hand-built, vacuum-tube driven, 10,000-watt amplifiers (which will be hooked up to the wall of speakers). The idea is, I’ll be able to start playing, and they’ll be able to hear from the nearest town. Of course, there’ll also be trumpets, euphonia, tubas, basically every other brass instrument ever (remember, brass kicks …), and any other instrument I’ve ever or will have ever learned. Only one of each for most.

The rest of the lab floorspace will be taken up by a Steinway & Sons 12-foot black concert grand piano.

well, that’s about all I have for that. If I’m forgetting anything, let me know sometime in the next fifty years, please?

Leep Friendship-chemical bond analogy

These past twenty-one-point-seven years that I’ve been alive have been spent partially in gathering tools to make various tasks either. Some of these tools are physical and have obvious direct applications (I own several screwdrivers, for example, which I use for [un]screwing) (yes you’re allowed to giggle at that); some may be physical with less direct application (guitar, figure that one out for yourself); others are more conceptual tools, useful for describing or understanding a given system (all of math, for example, as well as the general balance equation in specific). Perhaps my most extensive and useful “tool” in this last category is my vocabulary and ability to communicate almost-clearly through typed and spoken American English (my hand-written American English is about as understandable as my hand-written Japanese to most people) (I don’t know any Japanese, written or otherwise).

About a year ago I invented, perhaps, the most nerdy tool of all that I can include in my conceptual-description-tool arsenal. Now, I really want to give you a little background first. As a chemical engineer (and always an avid fan of chemistry), I have a very solid grasp on how atoms and molecules interacts, and the strengths of the various attractions and repulsions between them. The relative strengths, I guess (the attraction between, say, a single oxygen and a single hydrogen covalently bonded within a single water molecule is so small that it would be difficult to tell on an absolute scale from the attraction between an oxygen and a hydrogen on two adjacent water molecules, but at that tiny scale there’s almost an order of magnitude of difference). Conversely, I’ve never interacted with other people nearly as much as I probably should, so while I feel I have a fairly good grasp on the different kinds of interpersonal “bonds” and their relative strength, being able to, in a sense, quantify them would be amusing (even if not in practice very useful).

So one day, in a flash of blinding inspiration, I came up with my Analogy. It can be stated thusly: “Different kinds and strength of friendships can be assumed to be analogous to different kinds and strengths of chemical and intermolecular bonds.”

That being the summary, I instantly went on to come up with a specific list of intermolecular and intramolecular bonds, and the types of friendships they would be analogous to. Most of my examples are in terms of school, since that’s where I know most of my friends from.

Starting with the “weakest” and going to the “strongest”:

1. London Dispersion (or Van Der Waals) Forces are intermolecular forces between non-dipole, non-hydrogen bonding molecules. The explanation I’ve seen for them is that, at any given time, certain nonpolar molecules have an “instantaneous” dipole moment, because more of the electrons are on one side or the other; this induces complementary instantaneous dipole moments in surrounding molecules. Repeat it enough times and you have measurable intermolecular force (this is the force that keeps vegetable oil, for example, a liquid). This is analogous to, say, a classroom full of people that don’t know each other, but might talk about the homework once in a while.
2. Dipole-dipole interaction: When two molecules have dipole moments, the partial positive of one molecule feels an electromagnetic attraction (or something) to its “opposite member” on the nearby other molecule. I’m actually not entirely sure how to place this one; on one hand, it could be an intermediate form of normal friendship; on another hand, it could be a lower or preliminary form similar to ionic bonding, listed below.
3. Hydrogen bonding: Hydrogen bonding can be thought of as an “extreme” example of dipole interaction, though its strength is about an order of magnitude greater. It is officially defined as something like “the attraction between a hydrogen bonded to a highly electronegative atom such as oxygen or nitrogen, and a lone pair of electrons on another oxygen, nitrogen, or certain other atoms.” It’s polar as well, giving me the same conundrum as dipole interactions. However, I’ve chosen to think of it as an intermediate between dispersion forces and covalent forces, which would translate to friends who talk a bit outside of class, maybe even make plans to “hang out” once in a while.
4. Metallic bonding: When a bunch of metal atoms are together, chem teachers like to tell you they’re “swimming in a sea of electrons.” Not being a metallurgist or inorganic chemist, I can’t really help you with this one much more. However, the principle idea is that you’ve got a lot of the same or similar thing(s), and they’re in a self-containing, cohesive yet flexible kind of group. This is, to me, very obviously similar to the phenomenon known as “going out with the guys” (or, for that half of humanity of which I’m not a part, “the girls”). A sports team or similar group might be a good example of this; a college dorm floor, another.
5. Covalent bonding: A covalent bond is “one in which electrons from two (or three) atoms are shared by both/all.” This is no longer the inter-molecular forces of H-bonds and dipoles, nor even the shady area of metallics; this is true sharing and caring. As such, I have defined it as what I’m going to call officially recognized friendships. The kind where you make plans, spend rather large amounts of free time together, and usually don’t think any of it to be in any way unusual. There exist also double and triple covalent bonds, which are, of course, just increasing “strengths” of “true friendship” (with triple covalent bonds being “best friends”).
6. Ionic bonds: Ionic bonds are, in general, the strongest of all. They are defined as “attractions between ions (charged atoms or molecules) with opposite charges.” What? attraction between opposites? generally very strong? It was very easy for me to define this as the girlfriend/boyfriend style friendship, at its various strengths and stages.

This model allows for a great deal of flexibility. All of these bonds exist at ranges of strengths, not at a single specified strength. Because different atoms have different electronegativities (and the same atom in different molecules could have different apparent electronegativities depending on adjacent atoms), hydrogen, covalent, and ionic bonds are particularly noticeable in this regard. Take, for example, an acid, hydrogen chloride. Out of solution, the hydrogen and chlorine exhibit strong attraction for each other. Put it in water, though, and the separate; in fact, they begin to rapidly associate and dissociate with other ions of opposite charge (this phenomenon, in relation to my analogy, has been described by some, but I’ll leave it to you to figure out the derogatory expressions used). In contrast, calcium carbonate and calcium oxide (not to mention various iron oxides) won’t dissociate for anything; they stick together until (if I may be allowed a little poetical expression) the flames take them (fire actually being a good way to change the identities of the anion. So, as you can see, various strengths of ionic bonding can be usefully used to describe different strengths of their analogous “relationships.” And I think you can take my word that the same thing applies for the other kinds of bonds.

Another way I’ve found this model useful is in describing yourself in terms of what friendships/relationships you have. For example, someone with several good friends could be the phosphorous in a phosphate, or maybe a carbon in pretty much anything that has carbon. A committed relationship (I’m going to say marriage) would def. be calcium oxide or ferrous oxide. Nonsocial or friendless people are the noble gases. You could also use an entire molecule or part of a molecule to describe yourself, if you want to include less-than-covalent bonds (I suppose if you define yourself as a hydrogen you could… never mind).

Obviously this changes for a given person at a given time. Me, for example: two years ago, I’d say I was rather ionic (say I was Na+ in an NaCl). A year ago, I was more like a carbon with one double-bond, a couple other covalent bonds, and some H-bonds floating around out there (formaldehyde?). Now, I guess I’m more of a helium, or at best a water molecule. Next year, who knows?

I have found a few drawbacks with this model. Never having intended it to be perfect, I’m ok with them, but if you’d like you can take a stab at them.

1. There is, technically, no difference between a “very polar covalent bond” and a “weak ionic bond” except an arbitrary difference in electronegativity point; chemists have said “differences of less than this give rise to covalent bonds, while differences greater than this are ionic.” I don’t know that number offhand, maybe someone with more time can find it? But my point is, my model depends on the distinct difference between “two of pretty much any atoms joined together” and “opposites attract.”
2. Speaking of “opposites attract,” if I’m assuming that in the definition of ionic bonding and its analog in friendships, that kind of excludes those who aren’t or aren’t only attracted to “opposites”. Not a problem when I’m using the model for myself, but for other it could be. Possible solutions might involve just ignoring, neglecting, or redefining the “opposites” part, or maybe something involving zwitterions.
3. While I’ve given, I feel, plenty of explanation, and given enough time and references you could find a good analog for most any interaction between two people,…
   1. In reality there’s a lot more than two people; in fact, there’s almost seven billion of them. In some way, you’re connected to each and every one of them. I suppose the best way to model this would be to say that humanity is just one big protein or cluster of proteins, and each person an amino acid in it.
   2. People may object to being quantified in this way.

So that’s it. This is my nerdiness, and you’re entitled to laugh at it, cry over it, or copy (as long as credit is given where due). Concluding sentences being what I hate most about essays, I’ll end with “Be Awesome” and hope that’s good enough for you.

-Be Awesome.

On Integrals and Long Separation

Us engineers occasionally do integrals (also known as anti-derivatives) to calculate things (if you’re already lost, abandon this joke, as you will not get it). They’re useful for calculating stuff, often annoying or even painful, but on at least two occasions they can be amusing.

The first one, of course, is when you’re first learning integrals. You’re in high school, stupid little things of certain varieties seem a lot more amusing then they will later. You see the integral of exp(x) written (without the “dx”, of course), and think “hey I know that word!”

I’d rather tell you about the second one.

To calculate any usable numbers, you have to do definite integrals, and that’s just what my one friend was used to doing. He was actually working on his master’s degree, and if his grasp of English wasn’t so good, at least he was a fairly good engineer.

One semester, he decided to take a calculus class as a refresher. I figured he’d do pretty well, and I was in the class too, so when we got our first homework assignment covering integration. The homeworks were all indefinite integrals (the kind mathematicians prefer), but I still figured he’d do really well.

Imagine my surprise when he told me he got every question wrong!

I asked him why, and his response was:

“Long time, no C”

Lost: Confidence.

Over the past year, I seem to have lost a majority of my self-confidence. Which is really too bad, since I had quite a bit of it then, and now… not so much.

In any case, if you happen to run across it, or leads to finding it, I’d appreciate being informed. Appropriate (or, if preferred, slightly inappropriate) recompense can be discussed at that time.

I appreciate your efforts, blah blah blah.

(And with that, I’m done whining for a while).

(The Game)

Protected: A little experiment I did

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So… a week without internet

Some time back, I made a Facebook status message where I proclaimed my intention to go a week without the Internet sometime this summer. Summer now being over, that obviously never happened. First one thing came up requiring communication, then another, then school started. Now I’m in school, and while I still like the idea, I don’t want to jeopardize my grade to carry it out (it would, too; at least one of my classes has homework exclusively online).

I still plan to do it, though. It won’t be hard. I’m thinking the first full week of January, when I’m off on break and not doing anything.

Feel free to join me. I’d say “I’ll keep you updated,” but part of the idea is that, well, I won’t.