Ryo's El Jay

30

Mon, 08 Feb 2010 04:57:43 GMT

I'm turning 30 in two days, and I've never been happier. A year ago, I was afraid of turning 30, and I think I was afraid because I was unhappy with myself and my life. I was afraid that my 30s would be more of the same, and I didn't want more of the same. But now, I'm looking forward to my 30s, 'cause if it's more of this, it'll be pretty damn amazing.

Years ago, in my early 20s, I asked Alii what she thought my greatest accomplishment was. She said it was the fact that I realized I was unhappy living in Japan, and got up and moved to the US. I didn't get it at the time. I didn't think that counted as an accomplishment. But now, nearly a decade later, I get it. If you asked me what my greatest accomplishment of my 20s was, I wouldn't say it was the fact that I worked my way out of academic failure to get a degree from a world-class institution. It wasn't my various software projects. It wasn't the fact that I worked at a couple of great companies. It wasn't the fact that I bought 60 acres of land, or that I built a hut on it.

I'd say my greatest accomplishment was that I realized my life needed to be rebuilt, and that I did it.

Life doesn't go the way you'd want it to. I will likely face unexpected challenges going forward. I am happy now, but all this is temporary. Sooner or later, something will happen that will disrupt my life or lifestyle. So what matters isn't the what. What matters is the how. I systematically and intentionally built a life in which I am happy, by altering those aspects of my life that I can, and by not trying to control things I can't. I did it in my late teens. I did it in my late 20s. And I can do it again. I won't always be happy, but I know I can always become happy, and that is the most valuable skill anyone could possibly have. Too bad they don't teach that in school...

new-ish blog

Thu, 26 Mar 2009 06:59:01 GMT

In case you haven't heard elsewhere, I have a new blog: http://laptopandarifle.wordpress.com. I try to update it frequently, and have so far been pretty successful (8 posts in 14 days).

on cultural identity

Tue, 03 Feb 2009 22:22:34 GMT

I'm almost done reading Namesake, a novel about a boy named Gogol Ganguli, a US-born son of Bengali immigrants who for most of his childhood resists his cultural heritage, but ultimately comes to embrace it as a young adult. As a US-born son of immigrants, I thought there'd be something in the book that I could relate to, but it turns out that there isn't. Unlike Gogol, I don't really have a cultural heritage to resist. I consider myself to be American, but that is mostly a declaration of citizenship, not a declaration of cultural identity. In fact, I am comfortable declaring my self an American precisely because of the lack of any cultural identity such a label would imply. We spoke Japanese at home, followed some Japanese customs, but I was never socially acculturated in Japan, which makes me, culturally, a foreigner (a fact, unfortunately, that Japanese people won't admit to due to my appearances and lack of any noticeable accent). I also don't consider myself Japanese American, or Asian American; both of which imply a relatively well defined subculture.

The odd thing is, I don't spend a lot of time thinking about my cultural identity at all. True, I don't fit in anywhere. I have a hard time finding people I can relate to. But to me, all these things are orthogonal to my heritage. I don't fit in because I'm different. It's not because we spoke Japanese at home. It's not because I didn't grow up in the US. It's not because I grew up in Germany. It's because I am who I am, and who I am is very different to those around me. In reality, yes, I am different, at least partially, because of how and where I was raised. But that history offers me no solution. Unlike Gogol, I can't go marry someone from my childhood community who was raised in a similar environment as I was (not that that worked out for him), because no such community exists. I don't know a single person who's a US born child of Japanese immigrants, who speaks Japanese and English natively, who grew up outside the US, and is now back in the US (not even my own brother fits this description). So what difference does it make? I might as well be a weirdo from Idaho.

Most of my friends, and all my past girlfriends, have been white Americans. Although this may be partially circumstantial, I think I am more comfortable around white Americans than non-white Americans because white Americans don't think of themselves as having been shaped by their heritage. For me, when I say I'm "Japanese", it's similar to when someone from Minnesota says they're "part German, part Swedish, part Irish". Sure, I might speak my ancestral language and know more about its culture, but as far as I'm concerned, it doesn't define me. This is less the case with non-white Americans, who have a much stronger racial and/or cultural identity. Sometimes I'll joke that I'm a banana or a twinkie, but the whiteness implied in those terms also differ from how I see it. As darkness is the absence of light, I see white as the absence of color. To me it is a blank slate, a fresh canvas, a post-racial, post-cultural identity. It is the promise of being an individual here and now, unburdened by one's heritage, free to color it, or not, as one wishes. It is the color of freedom, and that, is what I identify with.

in which Ryo celebrates

Sat, 24 Jan 2009 08:09:02 GMT

(I wrote this on Wednesday, after my operation, but couldn't post it because I lost my internet connection at home.)

Yesterday, I went to the dentist for the first time in over a decade. Everyone should go to a dentist at least once a year. Anyone who doesn't, is an idiot. Going to the dentist may not be a huge triumph, but sometimes in life, it's worth celebrating those few moments when you've become less of an idiot.

Today, I got my wisdom tooth pulled. #32 had been bothering me for years, but I attacked it with regular brushing and mouthwash, because the thought of an extraction scared me even if I knew it to be inevitable. Sometimes in life, it's worth celebrating those moments when you finally come to terms with the inevitable.

in which Ryo is a traveler

Sun, 28 Dec 2008 19:41:04 GMT

If I don't know what day it is, this is why (all times are local):

9/27
23:50 - left Bangkok

9/28
07:30 - landed in Tokyo
17:05 - left Tokyo
09:30 - landed in SFO

9/29
08:15 - leaving SFO
14:20 - arriving in Chicago

on transportation (and mangoes) in Bangkok

Fri, 26 Dec 2008 17:49:31 GMT

One of the things I'm enjoying about Thailand is the transportation. So far, I've taken the cab, a tuk-tuk, modern rail, not so modern rail, subway, and boats to get around. My favorite, so far, is the river taxi, which is actually more like a river bus. It goes up and down the river, making stops on piers along the way. There's something oddly tranquil and exciting about riding a boat on the river. The boats have roofs, but no sides, so you get a nice breeze as well as the occasional waft of diesel exhaust. Occasionally, the wake from a passing boat or barge crashes against the hull and gently rocks the boat. When stopping at a pier, they don't really tie the boat to let passengers on and off. They secure one line, then the driver(?) backs the boat up until the rope pivots the back into the pier. The boat smashing into the pier is the signal for passengers to hop on or off.

Today, I took an old fashioned train up to an ancient city called Ayutthaya, located about 50 miles north of Bangkok. I bought a 3rd class seat, which only costs 15 baht (less than 50 cents), but all you get is a flat, hard, wooden bench. I sat by the window, for maximum effect. The effect was, indeed, maximal. I saw slums, rows of huts and shacks made of random pieces of lumber and corrugated tin material, just feet away from the tracks. Some of them, though, had electricity, and even a TV which I glimpsed through gaps in the roofing. In the city, I couldn't help but notice the smell of burning garbage. I don't know why people burn garbage, but they do, and they do so feet away from the rails. Out in the countryside, the electric stench of burning garbage was replaced with a more natural burning smell, from random unattended grass fires, also within feet of the rail road tracks. At some point, I realized I was covered in ashes, and my hair felt gritty to the touch. But it felt good to feel the wind on my face, and the jolts and bumps, and to hear the rumbling of the train as it rolled through the countryside.

Inside Bangkok, the SkyTrain and subways are clean, and convenient, but somewhat expensive. Depending on where you're going, the SkyTrain can cost 40 baht, which is the price of a Pad Thai. More than half the cars here are taxis, but they're less useful to someone who can't speak the language, or even pronounce many of the place names. Compared to other countries, the taxis here are cheap (about $10 for a 30 minute ride from the airport), but given the low cost of everything else, it feels relatively expensive (if you think $10 = 10 pad thais). Tuk-tuks are cheaper, but lacking a sealed enclosure, leaves you exposed to the heat and pollution. On the other hand, they're great fun to ride in. For the true thrill seeker, you could also hop (or rather cling) on the back of a dude's moped; helmets optional. Their ability to weave through traffic make them effective transportation options during rush hour, but is probably only for the bravest of travelers (or Thai school girls --who apparently have bigger balls than I do).

In a completely unrelated note, I learned today that there are at least 10 different kinds of mangos. Cee got a couple of different kinds for me to try, and I must say, I don't think I'll ever be satisfied with the mangos we get in the US...

on technology and labor

Fri, 19 Dec 2008 13:31:44 GMT

I saw something deeply unsettling today. At work, a bunch of us went on a field trip, and visited a partner that generates maps and other geographical data through aerial photography. It sounds innocuous, but I was shocked when they filed us into a large, artificially lit, sterile office. Inside, rows and rows of mostly young women in uniforms sat at work stations, blankly staring into a screen, silently toiling away at some menial task. It was the most depressing thing I've seen in a long time. I felt like I was watching slaves working a cotton field in the mid 19th century South. I felt like I was watching cattle, broken and immobilized in tiny pens. I was reminded of that scene in the Matrix where we see the vast field of human pods. That's what they were. They might as well have been half a brain attached to a computer. They were confined to a life spent locked in front of a computer at least 8 hours a day, because some small aspect of their brain was valuable¹.

My brother is an activist for laborers. He apparently finds it troublesome that technology is taking jobs away from people. I wasn't sure how to respond to that as a technologist, but today, I found my answer. The answer is this: we should free humans to do what they love, instead of wasting their valuable time on sub-human tasks. I'm confident that the work all those young women in that room were doing could be done by machines. But they were using humans because they haven't been able to come up with adequate algorithms².

Of course, if they were to come up with adequate algorithms, those girls would be out of jobs. The sad reality is also that, in this society, you can work or you can starve. But instead of blaming technology for taking away menial jobs, I would rather focus on the reality that some people can only choose between working menial jobs and starving³. Why can't people live the lives they want and also not starve? I don't know what the answer is, but in that office, looking at my coworkers on the one hand, and those girls on the other, I couldn't help but think there was a solution somewhere. Thousands of Googlers do what they love doing and generate billions upon billions of dollars of wealth. Surely, in a society like ours, we should be able to find a way for those girls to contribute to society by doing what they love doing.

---

¹ - I make it sound like those girls are miserable. In reality, they may not be. Some of them might enjoy the work, and the rest of them probably find it tolerable at worst. Having said that, if they were given a choice and told money wasn't an issue, I suspect almost all of them would rather be somewhere else doing something else. This is in contrast to the majority of my coworkers, who, even if given a choice, would probably still be writing code.
² - Which is why we need more Computer Scientists.
³ - I actually don't believe this is inherently true, but it is practically true for most people because they either believe it to be true, or were not given (or were robbed of) skills to find an alternative. It is also more true in countries like Japan (and the US) than it is in other countries that have more advanced social welfare programs.

in which Ryo thinks about teaching

Thu, 18 Dec 2008 17:30:04 GMT

Lately I've been thinking about changing careers and going into teaching. This isn't actually a new idea for me; the thought of eventually teaching at an international school like the one I attended has always been in the back of my mind. But as my dissatisfaction with life as a corporate drone grows, it's starting seem more and more attractive.

Part of what appeals to me about teaching, is that I feel like I could approach it with a different perspective, if I'm in an environment where creativity is permitted (which is admittedly rare). Having been an academic failure most of my life, I have a deep-rooted skepticism of traditional pedagogical approaches. In fact, I firmly believe that most schools today are not only inadequate, but actively setting up our children for future (if not present) failure. But... that's a big topic, and not what this post is about.

If I were to teach, I'd teach Computer Science to high schoolers. Computer Science in K12 is disappointingly rare and niche, considering the importance of this field in this day and age. You can't even get a Single Subject Teaching Credential in Computer Science in California, which also means there are no Masters of Education programs for Computer Science. In other words, nobody's really even thinking about how best to teach Computer Science to high schoolers. It's sad, but that also means there are opportunities there.

I got into Computer Science by accident. At my school, one year of computer classes was required in high school, and the curriculum was divided between one semester of basic computer literacy (typing, using office apps, etc), and one semester of programming. Yes, every high school student learned to code. I didn't realize it then, but that was revolutionary, especially back in the mid-90s.

At first, I didn't enjoy programming. If Mr. Scutt had taught it like most people teach introductory programming, I probably would be flippin' burgers today. But Mr. Scutt, who had no formal background in Computer Science, did things differently. Our second assignment (after "hello world") was to write a program that drew a picture. It had to have a house, some grass, a sky with clouds, maybe a sun. For extra credit, flowers. The assignment was surprisingly hard. I didn't get variables. I thought the whole thing was stupid. But then came the third project, which was to write a simple GUI-based role playing game. A game! Who doesn't want to write a game? That got me hooked, and I stayed late in the lab night after night to work on my game.

Mr. Scutt's approach worked well for me, but lately, I've been thinking about how I'd teach Computer Science to a group of unwilling high schoolers. I've come up with a few ideas:

Human computer - I think the highest barrier is in the very basics. I didn't get variables. Syntax was annoying. I suspect a lot of people get turned off at that point. One idea is to get students to actually physically execute code, by moving around, labeling boxes (variable declaration), putting numbers in boxes (assigning values), handing boxes to each other (function calls), etc. This wouldn't take long, but anyone who doesn't get it after hearing/reading an abstract description might get it if they see it/do it in action¹. If nothing else, it'll give kids an excuse to move around.
Buddy system - In reality, programing is highly collaborative, and knowledge sharing is an integral part of the experience. So, one idea is to put newbies and more experienced CS students in the same lab sessions, and pear them up in a buddy system. This is a win-win situation. The newbies get help, and the oldies gain valuable mentoring experience (not to mention, teaching is a great way to learn), and it generally fosters a collaborative environment.
Teach how to cheat/show off - Thinking back at my mandatory CS course, one common objection raised was "why do I need to learn this stuff?" (also generally a common question among know-it-all high schoolers) So, projects that can demonstrate utility or matches their natural computing activities might resonate with some kids. A modern equivalence of programming a TI-82 to cheat in physics , writing Flash widgets to put on MySpace, or apps for Facebook might do the trick.

One of the reasons I'm interested in teaching high school is to tackle the gender gap in CS, and my theory is that we need to start early (by college, it's too late). The male-female ratio in CS is alarmingly skewed, which to me means we're doing it horribly wrong. Of the 3 ideas, the first and second might appeal to girls, mostly by making learning CS a more social experience. The 2nd would work particularly well if girls can be paired together (arguably, that may be the only effective thing to do), which might help create a cycle of positive reinforcement. I don't know if it'll work, but it'll be interesting to try. The cool thing about education is that it's an environment that should, in theory, be conducive to iterative experimentation. You get a new batch of kids every year. You can even split them into control and experiment groups, and to some degree, quantify the outcome. It doesn't look like educators take advantage of this potential², but that just means there's room for improvement (and eventually, disappointment and disillusionment --but then I'll just change careers again).

---

¹ - A related idea to this is to tier different learning methods. So, I'd first start with a lecture on the basics of programming, then quiz the students to figure out who got it and who didn't. The kids who don't get it from a lecture will then get another chance using a drastically different teaching method, like the human computer idea.
² - Restrictions around human experimentation might have something to do with it, but in general, people are horrible at trying new things and critically examining established patterns -- in any field. Google has an interesting rule where people are actively discouraged from staying on the same project for more than 2 years, specifically to prevent stagnation.

in which Ryo thinks of the year that was, and the year to come...

Tue, 16 Dec 2008 14:55:32 GMT

Looking back at the last year, two memories stand out in my mind...

The first is of going home to our apartment in Mountain View when Nikki and I lived together. As I approach the apartment, I pass the dining area window, slightly foggy from Nikki's cooking. I open the door, and I'm immersed in warmth and light. It smells of Christmas tree and garlic and basil. Oscar stretches out in front of me, demanding attention. I rub his tummy, and he gently kicks my hand with his back paw. Nikki interrupts her stirring, and smiles, practically glowing. I go to the kitchen and give her a hug. I am home, safe and warm.

The other memory is of me standing on a hill top, in a vacant lot of land in the high desert. The sun is beating down, and my arms are sweaty and scratched. I pant, recovering from the strenuous hike across a slippery gully on a faint deer trail and up a steep hillside. A bird of prey soars above my head. I hear a gust of wind rushing towards me from a valley to the west. I pull out my GPS and compare my coordinates to a topo map. I look across at another hill on the opposite corner of the lot. It's four, maybe five hundred yards away. I could build my own shooting range here. There isn't a soul in sight. I feel alive, free, and happy.

These two memories represent two conflicting desires and needs that I have, that I struggle to reconcile as I contemplate my future. On the one hand, I want a place I can return to everyday and call home. I want it to be a warm, full and happy place, instead of the cold, empty, and isolated apartment that I have now. I want people to share my life with, to ground myself and build a sustainably happy life. On the other hand, I often actively seek solitude and the freedom that comes with it. I want to go on more adventures, take risks, and be physically active in a way that I can't be in another decade or two. I want to spend time on hobbies and develop skills while my mind and body are more or less cooperative. I am deathly afraid of wasting away my youth, or what little of it I have left.

I'm sure this is a common problem men (and maybe women) face. But I think people don't deal with it well, and end up having half-life crises when they realize it's too late. I'm looking at my last year in my 20s, and feel lucky that I'm single and financially well off. I can still do things. I can still learn. I can still get in shape. I can still take risks. I can still shape my future and my life. I have options.

2008 was a year of change. I had new experiences, and learned a lot about myself, about life, about work, about love. But it was also a year of uncertainty. I don't know what's in store for me in 2009, but I hope I can live with conviction, and have faith in myself again. I hope I can follow my heart, take risks, overcome internal and external adversity and go places I didn't know I could go, both literally and figuratively.

Mon, 08 Dec 2008 03:27:18 GMT

Life is hard. Sometimes we win, sometimes we lose. Sometimes we lose big. We lose big opportunities. We lose things that are dear to us. It's easy to react emotionally, with regret, anger, pity, grief, loathing, guilt. But no emotion, no matter how intense, can reverse what's done. But the future is open. So forgive, learn, then apply. With a little luck, maybe next time you'll win.

on creativity

Thu, 04 Dec 2008 07:39:06 GMT

Last night, I was watching this highly entertaining and, IMO, inspiring talk titled "Do schools kill creativity?" by Sir Ken Robinson. In it, he talks about how Gillian Lynne became a dancer after doing poorly in school and going to see a doctor. This story reminded me of a similar event in my own childhood.

When I was in elementary school in Japan, my parents thought I was retarded. I guess the PC term is "learning disabled" but they've said out right (after the fact) that they thought I was retarded. I mostly got 1s and 2s¹. I had trouble memorizing kanji characters. I spent most of my free time playing alone with toy bricks, or in the sand box. But I liked to draw and make things, so they sent me to remedial art classes. They thought, even if Ryo fails in school, maybe he could make a living as an artist².

I can still remember the first day my dad took me to art class. Being a shy kid, I was quite nervous. My dad had with him a painting I drew in school, which he proudly unfurled in front of the teacher. My heart sank. It was a boring picture. A couple of chickens had wandered into our school one day and caused a stir. When it came time to do a painting, that's what came to mind. But it was a half assed painting. I much preferred painting imaginary castles.

"He painted this." My dad said proudly. "Look at the colors on this chicken." He pointed at a greenish black explosion in the middle. "And notice how there's half a chicken on the left here." He pointed at what was, indeed, half of a chicken. The other half didn't fit on the paper. Big deal.

But it was a biggish deal. Many years later, I eventually realized that by that age, most kids (especially in Japan) had been taught to paint inside the paper. But somehow I'd retained my ability to think beyond that rectangle, and to see a world that didn't fit inside those boundaries. I was literally thinking outside the box, when few other kids could. My parents recognized that as a valuable skill. So they sent me to art classes, instead of cram school.

Fast forward 20 years. "But mostly, it was your creativity." Evan told me, about why he recommended me to the hiring committee at Google. "You came up with workable solutions I hadn't heard before. Creativity counts." He added.

It wasn't until I watched that talk last night that those two events in my life, separated by 20 years, made a connection. But I think that's exactly what Sir Ken Robinson is talking about. Arguably the best thing my parents did to prepare me for one of the most selective jobs³ in an industry that didn't even exist yet, was to send me to art classes. Of course, I wasn't completely off the hook academically either. They made sure I had the basics, and my mom even devised a special way to teach me kanji characters, that didn't require rote memorization (kanji characters are essentially pictograms, so we came up with a story or mnemonic-like device for each one).

It also helped that I wasn't, in fact, mentally challenged⁴. But it's also obvious to me today that, in a traditional sense, my intelligence is only slightly above average. I don't consider myself to be smart, at least compared to the people I met at the UofC, or work with at Google. The one thing I have to offer, often times, is that I see things a little differently. But that's made all the difference.

¹ - In public elementary schools in Japan, students are graded between 1 (worst) and 5 (best) and on a curve (i.e. the distribution of grades is predetermined).
² - In English, this sounds like a contradiction. I think artists are regarded with more respect in Japan than here, although I'm not certain they're necessarily financially better off.
³ - I can't find public data, but percentage of applicants hired is very, very low (lower than the percentage of SAT takers who score 1600, apparently). Someone also told me that they'd interviewed 50-60 candidates, but only know of 2 that were hired.
⁴ - Ironically enough, it was my art teacher who told my parents that I wasn't retarded, after he noticed how I was able to design three dimensional models entirely in my head.

friends

Sat, 29 Nov 2008 11:10:28 GMT

I think I have a weird notion of friends. I had few real friends when I was growing up, and when I say "few", I actually mean more like "a couple." During most of my middle school and high school years, I had 2 friends: James and Kathryn. But we were really close friends. James and I were so close, there were apparently rumors that we were a gay couple. Kathryn and I were also close friends, especially after James left before my senior year, and at least a couple of our teachers commented on how we were like a married couple. But they were my friends. If I wasn't with James or Kathryn, I was by myself. I don't know anyone else like that, except for Gregory House, and he's not real. But if you've seen the show, you'll probably know what I mean when I say I have few friends. Or more like one at a time (and the friendship between House and Wilson pretty closely resembles all my real friendships --except for the bit where House is cruel).

I'm not sure why that is. There might be something wrong with the social networking module in my brain. For whatever reason, having more than a couple of real friends ends up being stressful and difficult. Or maybe I stop accepting friends once I have one or two. It's also difficult for me to find people I am genuinely comfortable around. Most people stress me out or bore me, so I'd rather be alone than be with them. But I also can't stand being completely isolated either. That is, if I have no friends, I get lonely and sad (I've never had my own pet, so I'm not certain a cat or a dog would suffice as a friend, but it's possible... even likely).

Right now, I'm dangerously close to having no friends, so I'm in "social condition orange - high risk of isolation," and I also can't get a pet. So I need a friend or two. Now, I've never had to actually consciously make friends before. I've made all sorts of things, like software and furniture... even bombs, but not friends. But I'm an engineer, and making things and solving problems is what I do. So I'm going to make a friend or two. I'll probably start with some of the "friends" I have, since they seem like a likely pool. But if that doesn't work, I'll have to really go out into unchartered territory, and try and meet strangers. That's pretty extreme, but desperate times call for desperate measures.

One of the big lessons I learned in the last couple of years, is "change something." Things don't get better without change. It's also only going to get harder for me to change as I grow even older (apparently that's possible). So I need to start now. We'll see where that leads...

Speaking of change, I also might have made another break through. I occasionally get into these negative feedback loops. I get upset about something -> I analyze why it happened -> I isolate things I could've done differently -> I get upset about having screwed up -> repeat. But this time, I decided to try something different: I took a lesson from Jed Bartlett, and decided to ask "what's next?" Since the negative feedback loop depends on retrospection, I figured focusing on the future instead would break that cycle. It seems to work reasonably well, even if it means I'll be walking down the parking lot muttering "what's next?" over and over again (just because I pose the question doesn't mean I have an answer).

in which Ryo goes Ted Kaczynski (without the bombing part)

Mon, 06 Oct 2008 04:39:28 GMT

Last week, I spent several days up in Redding looking at property. It's always been a goal of mine to own land in the middle of nowhere, but the reasons have changed over time. Even last week, I was mostly looking for land for recreational uses: camping, hunting, shooting. Obviously, bigger would be better, but I settled on 40 acres because rural land tends to be parceled in 40 acre lots (or multiples thereof), and also because 40 acres, given the right geometry and terrain, would allow me to build my own 600 yard shooting range (the type of matches I compete in shoot at up to 600 yards). Also, I could afford to buy 40 cheap acres without wiping out my savings, and I don't believe in that whole mortgage thing (never did, even before this crisis).

While out there looking at lots for sale, I met and talked to a couple of people who do live on 40 acre lots in the middle of nowhere. Where, "middle of nowhere" is about a 30 minute drive from Redding on paved roads, and another 15-20 on dirt roads, with no power, water, or sewage, and for most intents and purposes, they're cut off from civilization as we know it. One guy said fire fighters didn't even have a map of the area, much less know whether/where people lived. Another woman said she had to chase off illegal hunters by blasting her shotgun into the woods, and that the hunters, disappointed about leaving empty handed, shot her neighbor's cow on the way out. The Sheriff, of course, was nowhere near.

Talking to these people made me think about life out there, on a 40 acre lot of land. As it turns out, with the combination of modern technology and ancient wisdom, one could live quite comfortably out there. You can get electricity from solar panels with a diesel generator as backup. Water? Pump it from a well, spring, or even collect precipitation (Redding gets 33" per year -- about 20 gallons per square feet). Septic tanks take care of sewage, and of course there's always composting for organic waste. You can even get internet via satellite (although latency might be high). For food, you can grow vegetables and raise livestock. The area I was in was pretty dry and the soil didn't seem particularly rich, so yield might not be terribly high, but it'd at least augment the diet (the woman I talked to had a garden with tomatoes, squash, carrots, corn, and had a cow, with a calf on the way). To me, it sounds like a comfortable, albeit basic life.

But here's the kicker. I then started doing the math. A piece of property I was interested in was going for $36.5k, which might go a little lower but include various fees, and we'll call it $40k. Another $30k would probably pay for a well, basic solar-based power, and material for an illegal (but livable) cabin. Technically, septic is required by law, but who cares when you have a 40 acre toilet (as long as you keep your shit out of the food). I could get all that with my savings, and I'd have a place to live for less than $50/month (property tax and road fees). Then factor in health insurance, food, fuel, maybe a car payment, etc and I'd probably live quite comfortably for $1200/month. If I did free-lance work and charged $30/hour (post-tax), that's only 40 hours of work per month. Ok, so I still want to put some money in the bank, so I'll work 80 hours, or maybe charge more. I can spend the rest of the time shooting, tending my garden, or just plain enjoying the peace and quiet.

Of course, then I started wondering what I was doing living out here in the suburbs, working at least 40 hours a week, every week. In fact, why does anybody live in the suburbs, or in cities? Infrastructure? Well, the grid is horribly inefficient, and who needs it when plenty of solar power falls on your land, and you can pump water from the ground. Security? Denser populations lead to crime, and are ripe targets for terrorism. Health? Again, population density increases risk of communicable diseases, not to mention the lack of exercise and diet of processed foods that are slowly killing us. And if that doesn't do it, we face death every day on the roads. So, what does that leave us with? Friendly neighbors? I know more about two random people I met in the middle of nowhere than I do about my next door neighbor who, at this very moment, is less than 20ft away from me. Humans simply aren't designed to interact with masses of people, and genuine communities have been replaced by public services (out there, you need to know your neighbors because they're the nearest support you've got).

If cities are less sustainable, more dangerous, less healthy, and socially alienating, do they even make sense? I can think of two reasons why cities make sense: tradition, and economics. As a society, we've become city dwellers, to a large extent. We don't know anything else, and many of you seem to like it, for whatever reason. But what's really keeping (sub)urban life going is probably our economy. The economy is driven by credit and consumption. Even the poorest contribute to the economy by taking out auto-loans or credit cards, or receive food stamps to buy Coke and Cheetohs for dinner. Our economy would come crumbling if people bought cheap land in cash instead of taking out mortgages on overpriced houses, or stopped feeding on Dollar Menus because they were growing their own food.

In other words, people living healthy sustainable lives is actually at odds with our capitalist society. You hear about "greentech" and "sustainability" every day, but fundamentally, what's unsustainable and ungreen isn't our manufacturing processes or SUVs: it's our economy. An economy that requires growth, and growth at increasing rates, while depending on finite resources is inherently unsustainable. But, of course, we can't admit that, and we have to keep feeding the beast. That's why we have ludicrous products like hybrids cars, which are actually more damaging to the environment than all-gas cars when you factor in the impact of manufacturing and disposal. That's why they won't tell you that keeping your SUV and commuting by public transit is better than buying a new car. That's why they won't tell you to eat less meat and processed foods, or to buy and use fewer electronic devises. Consume, consume, consume.

So, in short, y'all keep doing what you're doing, but some time in the not too distant future, I'ma go live on a farm.

in which Ryo follows-up on his previous post

Wed, 01 Oct 2008 17:48:14 GMT

I've been meaning to write this for a while now, but I'll just go ahead and spout it out now, 'cause I've got other things to write about in the queue as well...

Feedback on my last post taught me or lead me to realize a few things. In the interest of expedience, I'll put them in list form:

Raber's comment made me realize that sentiments like those are probably why we're seen as "elitist and arrogant", and to some degree, deservedly so (perhaps the arrogance more than the elitism).
Axel pointed out that the difference between liberals/Democrats vs conservatives/Republicans might be aesthetic, so arguing within the liberal aesthetic framework was kind of pointless (or at least I think that was the point). I sort of got it, but didn't really until...
One of Linda's links further pointed at an essay titled What makes people vote Republican?. According to that essay, it seems like the main differences come down to moral considerations. While liberals care about "harm/care and fairness/reciprocity", conservatives are also concerned with "ingroup/loyalty (involving mechanisms that evolved during the long human history of tribalism), authority/respect (involving ancient primate mechanisms for managing social rank, tempered by the obligation of superiors to protect and provide for subordinates), and purity/sanctity (a relatively new part of the moral mind, related to the evolution of disgust, that makes us see carnality as degrading and renunciation as noble)". I think ingroup/loyalty in particular helps explain why Republicans seem to want "someone like them" to be in office.
So, what it all boils down to is, the state of bipartisan (electoral) politics today seems to me a lot like a game of "football", where one side is playing American football and the other is playing soccer, and both sides are accusing the other of doing it wrong and messing things up. It's kinda hard to say who's right and who's wrong, except...
Unlike this hypothetical game of football, there is a clear winner in electoral politics. Further more, the country is run by those who are elected, and not at all by those who aren't (well, Obama would still be a Senator, I guess). So, given that, it seems like electoral politics isn't about issues at all, but about winning. You can be all uppity and lofty about it, but at the end, no matter how inspiring, eloquent, and intelligent the candidate, none of it matters at all if he loses in the election. I think we sometimes forget that.

in which Ryo gets bitter about politics, or the lack thereof

Fri, 12 Sep 2008 05:44:26 GMT

Remind me to never read comments on NYTimes.com. I was just scrolling through comments on a blog post about the Palin interview, and it's depressing as hell. The comments in favor of Palin have the intellectual equivalence of a 3 year old saying "I like ponies". And that's on NYTimes, where the readers/commenters are more literate than the average American (based on the fact that they seem to at least spell words correctly).

I don't mind that there's a whole party that I don't agree with on practically all issues. But it does bother me deeply that the Republican Party has become a party of dumb people. It's not that Republican politics are inherently stupid. I can understand the desire to have a smaller federal government, for instance (which, if I'm not mistaken, is their namesake). I can understand rich people wanting lower taxes. I can even understand some hawkish foreign policy positions. I might not agree with such positions, but I can understand them at an intellectual level. But that's not why people vote for Republicans. People vote for Republicans out of a mistaken belief that the separate of Church and State was in fact not a good idea, or some misguided sense of nationalism, fear, misinformation, habit, pure stupidity and god knows what else, but whatever it is, it ain't rational most of the time. So the level of political discourse between Democrats and Republicans is, well, nonexistent because most Republican voters aren't capable or willing to hold a rational conversation. I wish I could find an intelligent McCain supporter and have a rational discussion about why they support him, and why his positions on issues are better for the country than Obama's. I wish there was public political discourse in this country, instead of all this juvenile bumbling bullshit. I wish there was politics in this country, instead of this pathetic farce.

Sometimes I feel like just throwing up my hands and declaring this Grand American Experiment a complete and utter failure. But then, that would mean the stupid people win, and I'm not sure I want that either.

unemployed

Sun, 17 Aug 2008 03:18:02 GMT

As some of you know, contrary to my last post, my last day was in fact this past Thursday. It turns out HR has a policy to boot people out ASAP if they're going to a company which they consider to be "the competition." My boss nor I knew about this, so it was a bit startling. Anyway, as of 4:37pm last Thursday, I am officially unemployed (though I still get paid for another week or so, and also get paid for 5 weeks of vacation time I had acrrued).

My mother and brother flew in yesterday and are in town until the 26th, but from then until October 6th, I am completely free. I haven't quite decided what I'm going to do. Some ideas I have so far:

go on nice long road trip.
try and book a flight on the A380 from New York to Dubai
go on a cruise of some sort (maybe to Alaska)
go visit an internet friend in Bangkok
stay here and train to shoot left handed (which I should do since I'm left-eyed)
start a startup

Does anyone have any other ideas? My only requirements are that it has to be something I can do by myself, plannable between now and whenever it happens, cost less than ~$15k, and have me back here by 8am October 6th.

it's official

Fri, 08 Aug 2008 22:17:41 GMT

I just gave two weeks' notice, so my last day at Yahoo! will be 8/22. I'm going to take some time off, and assuming the background check doesn't reveal any heinous crimes I unknowingly committed in my past life, I'll be starting at Google on October 6th.

rationalizing Obama's FISA vote

Fri, 18 Jul 2008 18:42:11 GMT

I, for one, have come to believe that Obama's FISA vote was not only rational, but the right choice given the circumstances. If he were just another Senator, then I would've been outraged by his vote, but he's not just another Senator; he's a presidential candidate. It is clear that he can do more for the country and the world as President than he could as the Senator of Illinois, and his first priority should be to win the presidential election.

With that in mind, let's look at what was at stake. Up for vote was a bill that was going to pass (it passed 69 to 28 -- with 3 not voting). His vote, for all practical intents and purposes, did not matter. Now, given that the vote it self didn't matter, what were the stakes? On the one hand, voting for it enraged and disenfranchised his loyal supporters, mostly on the far left. On the other hand, voting against it almost certainly would've been used by the Republicans as evidence of his "soft stance on National Security." At the end, this election (and most elections, actually) aren't decided by people like us, on the far left¹. We're going to vote for the Democratic candidate, no matter what². The election is decided by the people in the middle; the moderates and independents. I don't have hard numbers, but my guess is polls have indicated that those in the middle want a candidate who at least doesn't look weak on national security. On the other hand, most of them probably don't know/care/understand the FISA bill. Did he make a compromise? Absolutely. Is he "making a move to the middle?" Of course! That's how you win. But here's the thing... I'd rather see Obama make strategic compromises and make it to the Oval Office, than to see him irrationally stick to liberal ideologies and let McCain be president.

There's a time when I'd like to see Obama take strong ideological stances on issues. But that time is not now. That time is when he's President of the United States.

---
¹ At least that's normally the case. This election may be a little different since Obama's campaign did benefit substantially from grassroots supporters, both financially and organizationally. Having said that, I think he needed grassroots support in the primaries, more than he needs it in the general election where the entire party will be behind him.
² a.k.a "Ryo's Law"... actually it might be the opposite of Ryo's Law.

in which Ryo gets all fuzzy

Thu, 10 Jul 2008 18:33:16 GMT

Being on vacation is great. I should've done this earlier. Only a week in, and I can already feel some of my earlier cynicism and despair fading. One major catalyst in my recovery has been the latest Where The Hell is Matt video, which I've watched at least 10 times in the last couple of days. In fact, it was the first thing I watched this morning when I opened my laptop.

I think part of what I find so inspiring about the video isn't the video itself (though I do think it's well done and I also love the music), but rather the idea of the video. Some dude had a weird dance he did. He traveled. He danced in places. He made a video of himself dancing in places. The video has been viewed over 6.5 million times in two and a half weeks. Sure, there's a bit more to the story; for instance, this is his 3rd video, he already had a fan-base, he has a corporate sponsor, etc. Nonetheless, it restored my faith in the power of the internet.

Think about it. YouTube is probably one of the most, if not the most, singularly empowering and democratizing tools in the history of art. No other tool I'm aware of has allowed individual expression to be elevated to the cultural level with such ease. All it takes is a good idea, and some relatively accessible pieces of technology. With some luck, you'll reach more people than some multi-million dollar feature films do, and make a deeper, more lasting impact on people than the Mona Lisa (well, at least I wasn't that affected by the Mona Lisa, but maybe it was the bullet-proof glass that killed it).

Granted, most of what's on YouTube could barely considered art. I still find that medium inspiring because, more often than not, it shows the best of humanity. The recent Weezer song, Pork and Beans, describes the spirit quite nicely: I'mma do the things that I wanna do. I ain't got a thing to prove to you. And that's exactly what you see on YouTube: people unashamedly doing the things they wanna do. Singing, dancing, making things, blowing things up. That's what we live for. That's why we have ample food, security, liberties, medicine. Our society exists so we can do the things we want to do.

Anyway, I was reminded that if I'm not doing what I wanna do, then I'm doin it rong. I'ma go shoot guns now.

GASH won!

Tue, 13 May 2008 18:17:27 GMT

Okay, we didn't win in points, but I think we totally won in the sense that we met and exceeded our objectives for Scav Hunt 08. That is, we had fun. We scavved our hearts out. And furthermore, we struck fear, er love into the hearts and minds of all scavvies, especially the foagies who couldn't join us this year. GASH is here, and Scav Hunt won't be the same again, especially for us foagies.

This might not have been my most intense scavving experience, mostly on account of my late arrival, but it most certainly was my most fun scavving experience. Without doubt, GASH was the most fun team to scav with. We weren't hell bent on winning or petty rivalries. There wasn't any of the human drama that's unfortunately inevitable in dorms. We gathered to scav our hearts out and have fun, and we did just that. Then we cleaned up (so well that MAC asked us to come back next year) and hopped back on our jet planes and automobiles to return to our normal lives.

I'm also mostly pleased with my personal performance this year, especially considering how I flew in on Friday, and was also the sole construction person. I worked on the super sonic potato, telescope, funicular, and volcano, and contributed somewhat to a few other items. Most importantly, I'm pretty proud of all the items I did. The funicular did have one major flaw that prevented it from working quite right (though one that wouldn't have been hard to fix), but apparently it was one of the few implementations that actually was a funicular (as opposed to a cart pulled uphill). My proudest contribution was probably the volcano's reaction chamber, which definitely made it the best volcano there. I figured out a way to safely place the two reagents inside a mostly sealed 2-liter bottle, which was then activated by pulling a lanyard, and it was all made with crap lying around on the floor at HQ.

One thing that made me really happy is that nobody pressured me to work on the monowheel instead of the items I did work on, even though the monowheel was a showcase item and probably worth more points than all the items I did work on combined. My assessment was that it would take me longer than the less than 48 hours I had on the ground to build a monowheel (especially since I couldn't make a run to the hardware store until Saturday), and I also had little confidence in my ability to build one that worked well by my self. It's also just not in my nature to work on something without having at least some feeling that I can build something I could be proud of. So we didn't have a monowheel, and everybody was mostly okay with that. I think that's the right attitude to have too. Scav only comes around once a year, and it's just not worth spoiling the experience by doing something unless you really want to do it, or by getting all upset about items you can't do.

The most heart warming moment for me was when we were all gathered in Ida Noyes awaiting announcement, and everybody started chanting "we had fun, we had fun". A lot of current students may not really understand how special Scav Hunt is. You have to go to a world with no Scav Hunt to really appreciate it, and having not scavved since 06, I think I finally really appreciate Scav Hunt. Nowhere else will you find several hundred people gathered after toiling away with little sleep for 3 days and 4 nights, and then be able to say "we had fun." We're lucky to have Scav Hunt. We're lucky to be able to participate in Scav Hunt. I'm glad I was reminded of this.

Finally, I'd like to thank everybody who made GASH happen (of course, in addition to the usual props to the judges). Mad props go to the captains Sam Friedman, Ashley Meyer, and Amber Staab, and Secretary Yitz. I publicly apologize for doubting the formation of GASH, and I hope my appearance at the last minute and pledge to return next year make up for my initial skepticism.

scav

Fri, 09 May 2008 05:37:06 GMT

I was going to scav remotely from California this year with the GASH team, but there are some fun big construction-y items this year (and few programming-y items) so I spontaneously decided to head to Chicago after all. I just finished packing a big box o tools (thrown in with a sleeping bag and some clothes), and I'm hopping on a jet plane tomorrow at 7:30am. Whee! I haven't even been back to Chicago since Scav '06...

new dwelling!

Wed, 07 May 2008 18:48:29 GMT

I just signed a lease this morning for my new home. It's a 2 bedroom unit a the end of a one-story 6plex, so I only have one neighbor, on the other side of the living room wall. I also have a private yard, where according to the manager, I can do whatever I want, which means a fruit/vegetable/herb garden and possibly a covered patio. Our current apartment is kind of cramped, so it'll be nice to have all that room. I'll use 1 bedroom as a bedroom, and the other as a project room. Oh, and also cats are allowed, so I think I'm going to have to get a kitteh or two. I think I'll enjoy living there.

my baby...

Fri, 25 Apr 2008 06:25:20 GMT

Now that the beast is out of the bag, I can talk about what I used to work on. Last year, I invented and built something that went by the codename "Malkovich", which today is known as the "Yahoo Application Platform". I started working on it as a secret side project in late January last year (way before Facebook launched their platform, I might add), and it sort of saw the light of day as part of Mash. Although they didn't seem to announce this, SearchMonkey is also built on top of Malkovich (I started working with the guys behind that last Fall).

In case you couldn't tell from some previous posts here, the story didn't end too happily for me, but at least now you know what the secret project was.

Tue, 15 Apr 2008 08:54:38 GMT

I've been having a bit of a crises of purpose lately. Maybe I'm getting old. Maybe I got a little bit too disillusioned working in a big company. Or maybe I got smarter, wiser, and see what's really going on. Whatever it is, I'm not so excited about the industry I'm in any more.

A few years ago, I was excited about being a web developer. I was excited about building applications for end-users (real people!) to make their lives better. I came to Yahoo because I was excited about building software for hundreds of millions of people around the world. But 3 years and just as many failed-ish projects later, I'm slightly less optimistic about my prospects of making great software there. On the other hand, I look around at what else is going on in the industry, and there's very little that truly excites me. Google's doing a couple of interesting things, Amazon's also doing some cool stuff, and Facebook's kinda cool but probably won't survive the year if they can't monetize (and speaking of monetization, let's not forget that most of this industry is based on selling our eyeballs to advertisers who want to push shit in front of us) and then there's a smattering of frivolous start-ups, most of which are me-toos that will cease to exist in the next year or two.

Then I take my head out of the cluster-fuck that's Silicon Valley, and what do I see? I see all sorts of serious badness going down. I see people losing homes because they borrowed/were loaned more money than they should've. I see banks teetering on the edge of collapse, mostly of their own doing. I see a government that's hopelessly preoccupied with fighting phony wars against an equally phony enemy, while its political and economic power is declining at an alarming rate elsewhere. I see an environment that's hurtin', and nobody's doing enough to fix it. I see insane food prices and shortages. I see my girlfriend who's struggling to make ends meet without even health insurance, despite her top rate college education.

So when I go to work and people are talking about how to make another "A zombie bit yo ass" app on a social networking site, I can't help but wonder if our priorities are slightly misplaced. There was a time, not too long ago, when I thought software could fix the world's ills. I hoped blogging and citizen journalism would expose government and corporate corruption. Instead, we got lolcats. I thought social networking would allow people to organize and mobilize. Instead, we have a generation of kids who think joining a Facebok group counts as "activism". At the end, we're just a bunch of lazy and complacent automatons clicking through web pages, while what little attention we devote to the world is literally sold to the highest bidder.

The worst part of it is, other than ranting about it online (yes, how ironic?), I don't know what I can do. I bet the last 7-8 years of my life on the notion that coding was my way of helping the world. I was wrong. What now? Do I learn something else? Do I join the peace corps? Or maybe I should just give up on trying to save humanity from itself, and go hole up somewhere like I've always wanted to. I wish I knew.

Mon, 31 Mar 2008 18:49:48 GMT

I was reading an article in the NYTimes about organizations that promote abstinence. It's kind of long so I haven't read it all, but this following quote caught my attention:

“Here at a university, we have to provide the intellectual basis” for abstinence, he told me. “Every position we take as a group can be confirmed by rational thought.”

In many top tier universities and among intellectuals in general, there seems to be an assumption that every position must have an "intellectual basis", that any valid position must be defensible through rational arguments. The implication, I believe, is that through rational debate, it is possible to determine whether a position is stronger or weaker than another, and therefore more valid, or more invalid; more right, or more wrong.

Now, I think most people understand that this dichotomy is false, at least in some cases. Clearly, nobody takes the famous Latke-Hamantashen debates at the UofC (and elsewhere) seriously, even though it epitomizes the false dichotomy, with irony. But when it comes to some issues, people seem to gravitate towards this dichotomy. Why is it that proponents of abstinence feel that they must have a rational argument for their choice on this matter? Do I need a similarly rational argument for my choice of sexual partners, or the frequency and duration of my sexual encounters? No, because this is a personal choice, and one which operates largely outside rational thought. So is religion, aesthetics, and to some degree, even ethics. Not everything lies on this simplistic one dimensional spectrum between right and wrong. In the complex and pluralistic world we live in, not everybody is with you or against you. Nor should they be.