| Reflections on an entertaining career wasted. |
[Apr. 29th, 2010|03:09 pm] |
The cliche would have it, that when asked to consider one's potential career, to think first of hobbies - how to do 'what you like' for your job.
Perhaps that works if you are a musician, or an artist, even a writer, but in my 'chosen career' I find that it's stifling. No longer do I look forward to an afternoon or evening's work. It reminds me of being on one of those annoying scavenger hunts we were given as 'entertainment' in school - a list of things one needs, that could be anywhere, and a limited amount of time to find them in. I don't like deadlines, unless it's for assigned school work, and since I'm no longer at school...
Perhaps I should give it away. Find a new passion. Renew my interest in shadow puppetry or card tricks. Take up playing poker.
Or just try and find the thrill in my career again. Ascend newer heights, greater feats of... ambition. Hm. |
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| Merci, Monseiur Sartre... |
[Aug. 24th, 2009|02:18 pm] |
| [ | Current Mood |
| |  contemplative | ] |
L'enfer, c'est les autres. Pretty much sums up small-town life, from what I can see. Interestingly, for those non-readers out there, it's from the play 'No Exit', and it seems that the lovely Bobbi-Jean is to be my own version of Inez, as far as is possible, driving me further into my room by her constant presence in my life. The REAL question, of course... Am I Estelle, or Garcin?
Sleep is no longer a problem now I've been moved out of pediatrics and onto surgical, however. =) For now, at least. |
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| Central Limit Theorem |
[Aug. 10th, 2009|03:03 pm] |
“ I know of scarcely anything so apt to impress the imagination as the wonderful form of cosmic order expressed by the "Law of Frequency of Error". The law would have been personified by the Greeks and deified, if they had known of it. It reigns with serenity and in complete self-effacement, amidst the wildest confusion. The huger the mob, and the greater the apparent anarchy, the more perfect is its sway. It is the supreme law of Unreason. Whenever a large sample of chaotic elements are taken in hand and marshaled in the order of their magnitude, an unsuspected and most beautiful form of regularity proves to have been latent all along." - Sir Francis Galton, describing the central limit theorem.
A random sample is one chosen by a method involving an unpredictable component. Random sampling can also refer to taking a number of independent observations from the same probability distribution, without involving any real population. During completely random sampling, the sample usually will not be completely representative of the population from which it was drawn — this random variation in the results is known as sampling error. In the case of random samples, mathematical theory is available to assess the sampling error. Thus, estimates obtained from random samples can be accompanied by measures of the uncertainty associated with the estimate. This can take the form of a standard error, or if the sample is large enough for the central limit theorem to take effect, confidence intervals may be calculated.
So, what is the central limit theorem, you might ask? Well, I'm glad you did.
In random sampling all members of the population have an equal chance of being selected as part of the sample. To pick a random sample, it is necessary to take all the names on the electoral register( a list of all the people who live in a particular area) and pick out, for example, every fiftieth name. This particular person needs to be interviewed to make the sample truly random. Random sampling is very expensive and time consuming, but gives a true sample of the population, if the sample contains enough numbers of people.
And there's the thing. Because it's like this... the smaller the group, the less evenly distributed it is amongst general population statistics. The larger the size of the group you're sampling is... the closer it is to the size of the actual population you're surveying, it's the opposite: the more likely it is that you'll get a sample that will match statistics.
Let  be a set of independent random variates and each  have an arbitrary probability distribution  with mean  and a finite variance  . Then the normal form variate
has a limiting cumulative distribution function which approaches a normal distribution.
Under additional conditions on the distribution of the addend, the probability density itself is also normal (Feller 1971) with mean  and variance  . If conversion to normal form is not performed, then the variate
is normally distributed with  and  .
Food for thought, isn't it? |
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| Since I'm incoherent today... I'll let Dame DuMaurier speak for me. Sort of. |
[Jul. 31st, 2009|07:04 am] |
| [ | Current Location |
| | My room. Locked in. Heeeeeee | ] |
| [ | Current Mood |
| |  groggy | ] |
| [ | Current Music |
| | Motorbreath - Metallica. Seems slower today. I wonder if my ipod is screwed? | ] |
Look down there. It's easy, isn't it? Why don't you jump? It wouldn't hurt,not to break your neck. It's a quick, kind way. It's not like drowning. Why don't you try it? Why don't you go? Don't be afraid. I won't push you. I won't stand by you. You can jump of your own accord. What's the use of your staying here? You're not happy. Nobody loves you. There's not much for you to live for, is there? Why don't you jump now and have done with it? then you won't be unhappy anymore. Why don't you jump? Why don't you try? Go on. Go on, don't be afraid.
I knew I shouldn't have taken the whole packet of Zoloft. Never knew my heart could beat this fast. I wonder if this lasts for long? |
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| Exhaustion: |
[Jul. 18th, 2009|11:12 am] |
exhaustion
Noun
1. extreme tiredness
2. the act of exhausting or state of being exhausted
Doesn't really cover it, does it? I think I'll try defining it myself. Hm...
The state of complete fatigue, causing lack of interest in just about everything around you.
Not close enough, really, but better than the Online dictionary, thanks very much.
Nothing beats Nietzsche, though. He got it right, when he said, “When we are tired, we are attacked by ideas we conquered long ago.” Only I never exactly conquered mine, simply made the attempt to suffocate them. It didn't work.
And that's exactly the problem. Without the meds the memories sneak up and attack me at night, horrible dreams with clawed fingers and greedy eyes that threaten to eat me alive. And yet I hated the 'cure' for making other things worse, making me impossibly even further detached from any sort of emotional reality.
After all, that's my main symptom, isn't it? Detachment. It started out as a deliberate attempt to protect myself, actually. Therapy helped me admit that much. I stopped the pain of a stubbed finger by amputating that emotional limb, only of course, some things, when you bury them, can't be put back or saved or resolved. It stops all the little things hurting, that's true. But of course, one thing leads to another and soon you're in the position of having to cut more limbs off, until you're left with only anger and bitterness and that sense of panic that won't go away, no matter how much you hack at it, and you can't get rid of the anger and bitterness because that's all that's left of you, and if you do perchance lop those off, you're nothing. Just a drooling catatonic mess in the corner they have to shift so they can sweep there. And besides, at least if you're angry and bitter you're not a victim any more.
I'm so tired. I want to crawl into bed and sleep until the sky falls in or the ground opens up or the dreams finally do eat me. Only I can't seem to sleep without the meds.
Funny that I want them back, after fighting them for so long.
Oblivion... |
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| People. If only they weren't so confusing. |
[Jul. 4th, 2009|09:00 am] |
According to good old Wikipedia... "The meaning of kissing is different in different cultures. Most often, people kiss to show love or affection for each other. Sometimes people kiss as a sign of friendship, sometimes it is a ritual performed to greet someone.
There are different ways of kissing. People might kiss on the cheeks to greet someone, or to bid them farewell. ... Many people see kissing as an erotic gesture."
I'm trying to work out this kissing thing. And hell, let's throw the hugging thing in there as well. I'm sure part of it is my upbringing, I'm sure most of it is, to be honest, and well, we can't discount my illness here, but I've always seen it as one of those culturally supposedly-appropriate things that people do to fit in. I've certainly rarely invested any actual feeling into it when giving Mother those occasional duty kisses on the cheek. That's not to say I've never been kissed before now. Or that I've never kissed and meant it, because I have. I'm not a complete loser thanks very much. Just... not for a long time.
So let's take a deeper look, shall we? Kissing kissing kissing...
"Any wild or hard-tongue kisses are a pure manifestation of extreme ego and thus the proof of kissing the totally wrong partner or kissing the right partner at to totally wrong time - wrong time meaning wrong year or wrong decade !!!" says some stupid Yoga site. Apart from the grammatical horror there, maybe that's the answer. I don't know.
Or there's this...
"Kissing is the simplest act of romance, yet it can be the most erotic, sensual, and loving act of romance. Many times, we forget just how wonderful kissing can truly be... whether it's a good make out session or a tender kiss to say "I Love You"." This one from a romance site.
And if you GOOGLE kissing, let's say you want to look further in your desperate search for information, or... okay... my desperate search in which you're just a passenger... you end up with a million sites dedicated to true love and romance, or love in general, parental or between friends, all of that happy horseshit.
Nothing really gives me an answer. Once again people confuse me.
So let's go with my own underlying theory. And I think mine, at least, makes sense. People kiss for the same reason they say those 'gentle' things, 'sweet nothings', those cruddy lying three words that don't really mean anything. Because they want something from you, and that's supposedly the appropriate social manner in which to get it. Get off, if we want to put it in its crudest and most truthful sense. Fuck or fight, kiss or kill, it's all to fulfill some inner emotional drive. And a pretty face on top of that is just the frosting on that emotional cupcake. No matter whether you're kissing or punching it.
I'm so lost. I'm tired of being so lost. I'm tired of feeling so strained that I'm actually putting my own limited feelings on electronic paper for all to see.
Oh, and you? Fuck you. I hate you anyway. |
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| Psychopaths vs Sociopath. Psycho: 2 Me: 0 |
[Jun. 19th, 2009|09:16 pm] |
Doctor Robert D Hare defines the psychopath as: "Intraspecies predators who use charm, manipulation, intimidation, sex and violence to control others and to satisfy their own selfish needs. Lacking in conscience and empathy, they take what they want and do as they please, violating social norms and expectations without guilt or remorse."
Hm. Not the most satisfactory definition, is it? After all, that could describe a lot of 'normal' people in specific sets of circumstances. Take two year olds, for example. Little Johnny bashing little Timmy over the head with the blocks to get the best truck at preschool, for example.
Let's dig deeper, shall we?
Washington State Legislature defines a "Psychopathic personality" to mean "the existence in any person of such hereditary, congenital or acquired condition affecting the emotional or volitional rather than the intellectual field and manifested by anomalies of such character as to render satisfactory social adjustment of such person difficult or impossible". The same statute defines the "sexual psychopath" as "any person who is affected in a form of psychoneurosis or in a form of psychopathic personality, which form predisposes such person to the commission of sexual offenses in a degree constituting him a menace to the health or safety of others" for prison sentencing purposes in the Sentencing Reform Act of 1981.
...in other words... they're not going to get better.
I think it's the name that bothers me the most. Because psychopaths don't necessarily suffer from actual psychosis. Neither do sociopaths, thankyou very much, and no... the terms are not interchangeable.
Psychopathy and sociopathy are two distinct kinds of antisocial personality disorder. Psychopaths are born with temperamental differences such as impulsivity, cortical underarousal, and fearlessness that lead them to risk-seeking behavior and an inability to internalise social norms. On the other hand, sociopaths have relatively normal temperaments; their personality disorder being more an effect of negative sociological factors like parental neglect, delinquent peers, poverty, and extremely low or extremely high intelligence. Both personality disorders are, of course, the result of an interaction between genetic predispositions and environmental factors, but psychopathy leans towards the hereditary whereas sociopathy tends towards the environmental.
Aha. And for anybody wanting to know the difference between a certain Richard Matthews and... well, myself - there it is. Sure, I'm unwell. Do I care? Of course I do. Do I want to get better? Not if it means group therapy and hugging and kumbayah-singing around campfires. I quite like my sense of detachment. It certainly prevents a person from getting hurt.
...I'm not talking physically here... obviously.
Am I a danger to you? No. I promise. Unless you're a Max-Schrek lookalike who likes jumping people on staircases, you're perfectly safe. Is he a danger to you? Well... why not ask Kaj about that? Or Cybele? Or take a good look at me next time I walk past. Limp past.
Wake up, guys. He's going to kill us all. |
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| Freddie's Private Journal. Written in shorthand in his notebook. |
[May. 25th, 2009|01:34 pm] |
The mere utterance of the word torture immediately demands a psychological response from any who hear it. Most individuals feel uncomfortable even imagining it, let alone acknowledging that it has happened to people before, and that it will probably happen to people again. God forbid engaging in it yourself. A common response is to simply not allow the concept to enter your mind - if someone is in excruciating pain, look away. This is the response most analogous to the face governments attempt to put on the practice. Obviously, no democratic government wants to be thought of as cruel or inhumane by its citizenry or by the international community. Accordingly, torture remains a topic generally outlawed, and yet unhindered by rigid repercussions. To personify most governments, when torture is used in other parts of the world they turn their heads.
However, a poll of the American public following the September 11 attacks revealed that a substantial portion backed torture as a legitimate tool to reduce the likelihood of future terrorist attacks - which begs the question. Do we, as a society, only frown on torture when it is used by our enemies against us? Is it 'okay' to use it to ensure our own freedom?
Well, I think it is. Because when it comes right down to it, if we're going to be perfectly honest, everybody in this world puts themselves first. Look after number one, all of that. Anybody who says they don't, is a liar.
So we got the information. All of the information at hand. And anybody who isn't happy with HOW that information was obtained, didn't deserve to get it. Because they weren't the ones who put their own humanity (and how much of that I actually HAVE is debatable, I know) on the line to get it. And honestly? The truth is, I have a lot more to lose. Because I swear for a moment there I nearly fugued out. Nearly lost myself in that pleasant fog, the desire to drift off and wave goodbye to what's left of my wavering sanity. I may have less humanity, but I am still human. For now. The border is closer for me, and I know too many steps in that direction will leave me unable to come back. And there's a part of me, I know, that doesn't want to go there, just as there's an equally insistent part that knows that heading there will make things a lot easier.
Was it worth it? Yes. Do I think there was more to learn there? No. I don't even think there are that many avenues to follow from here. Asking everybody if they are 'us' or 'them' is doable, but I doubt Leon would 'allow' that. And no matter how the time in the basement went, I was left with the sound knowledge, that at least for now, Leon is in charge.
At least for now. |
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| Disappearing Act |
[May. 9th, 2009|12:47 pm] |
Most disappearances, famous or otherwise, are easily explained. Take William Morgan, who disappeared in 1826 just before his famous book criticising Freemasonry was published. That's not a disappearance, it's an unsolved murder, right? Or Miguel Cote-Real, the Portugese explorer, who 'disappeared' along with the entire ship and crew he was on. Also... not a disappearance, probably ran afoul of a storm or something.
I mean, check THIS little gem from the wikipedia on famous disappearances (yes, there IS a wikipedia on everything...) Percy Fawcett, British archaeologist and explorer, together with his eldest son Jack and friend Raleigh Rimmell, were last seen travelling into the jungle of Mato Grosso in Brazil to search for a hidden "city of gold". Several unconfirmed sightings and many conflicting reports and theories explaining their disappearance followed, but despite the loss of over 100 lives in more than a dozen follow-up expeditions, and the recovery of some of Fawcett's belongings, their fate remains a mystery. The loss of over a hundred lives in follow up expeditions just MIIIIGHT provide a 'clue' as to what happened. Slapfuckinghead, right?
Amelia Earheart? Crashed a plane.
Glenn Miller? See Earheart... sigh...
Richey Edwards? Suicide.
Heinrich Muller? Bombed or shot or something.
Weldon Kees? Really did move to Mexico.
Harold Holt? Drowned... how hard was that one to work out?
Jimmy Hoffa? Buried, although probably not at Yankee Stadium
Michael Rockefeller? Either eaten or killed by accident.
DB Cooper? Fall down go boom...
So most famous 'disappearances' are really just people not wanting to admit the horrible truth - that their nearest and dearest is dead and gone, or even 'worse', didn't care enough to stay with them.
But...
Louis Le Prince... boarded a Paris-bound train and was just never seen again. No reason why.
Three lighthouse keepers - THREE, count them... working on the Flannan Isles all just upped and disappeared.
The Marie Celeste. Don't believe Conan Doyle, not a one of them was seen again.
ROANOKE - how could an entire colony of one hundred and seventeen people just up and disappear?
And for more modern ones, how about:
Sivasubramaniam Raveendranath - Highly-regarded Sri Lankan academic... just up and gone.
Jim Gray - not just him, but his boat! With NO TRACE - in THIS day and age? Unlikely.
Polly Anderson - FAMOUS heiress just disappears? And NOBODY sees her?
Makes you wonder, doesn't it? How many disappearances that really ARE mysteries... are things like this? I mean, it's not like people can pull a Roanoke in this day and age, and expect nobody to notice for months, but all of us... from all over... makes you think.
Be nice if someone could access missing persons files, wouldn't it? |
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| Well, it's an improvement... Private Journal |
[Apr. 26th, 2009|09:52 am] |
Having come to the early conclusion that yes, this is really happening, I am, of course, wondering why. The usual internet searches reveal nothing - it's not just a fault on my computer either, but the one at the library as well, it seems. There's no information on me at all.
I'm consoled by the fact that they, whoever they are, got my name wrong. It means they're not all-knowing, and definitely provides an example of human error. If they make a mistake on that, then they can make a mistake on anything.
I do believe I shall wait until directed otherwise personally to start work - bad enough that I'm left on the poverty line in terms of funds, but hospital wardsman? A cosmic joke. I loathe hospitals, of any kind, and really have no desire to return to one at all.
Most of my time is spent at home, feeling sweaty and horrible, my hands shaking awfully as the multitude of drugs (whatever they are, I've long since given up actually asking what they were giving me) wears off. Or maybe it's withdrawal. Who knows. It doesn't seem severe enough for that, though.
Thus far, I have met Leon (who unfortunately, I wasn't careful enough around) and my neighbour, Felix. The guy is cute... and the fact that I actually noticed is complete proof that the antidepressants, at least, are wearing off. I haven't had a sex drive in years. *eyeroll*
What does concern me, of course, is that without the multitude of medications, will I resort to how I was seven years ago? While the fog of sedation isn't pleasant, it at least has an explanation. How crazy will I be without meds? A worrying thought, that one. After all, it's been explained to me enough times that the reason I wasn't able to leave Brightwell was because I was too ill. I just hope I don't start losing time again... |
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| Fake Journal! |
[Apr. 15th, 2009|08:10 am] |
I am neither Gustave Naast/Rambaldi OR Freddie Lombard, OR Frederick Light. This is a fake journal for the Morana Hill game. |
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