When the circle completes...

Coincidences are amazing. In fact, it's easier to think that there is no such thing as coincidence and that everything happens by design.

Approximately one year ago, I wrote this post talking about some weird coincidences, and a handful of people... no, I'll say it openly, a handful of idiots in my town who do not believe in evolution and go around trying to convince others of the same thing.

Full circle. Another weird set of coincidences has brought up the same topic.

- First, I wrote this story which hardly anybody read but it basically uses a fantasy world to talk about how men of religion love to put men of science in poor light, when it is the latter who actually have a better grasp of the ideas of good and bad, being trained to think impartially.

- Then, I joined this science blog at Born a Libran's suggestion, my posts wandered of their own accord to the complexity and order observed in nature, and I talked about how such behaviour springs up easily in a distributed system.

- Today, I read this post on Sakshi's blog talking about a bill that scientists and engineers are pushing for, and some points on it reminded me of how irked the scientific community is by the the government's tacit support of the Intelligent Design theory.

The difference is that this time around, I have a lot more scientific background, as my research touched upon control theory, complexity, biology and a lot of things that actually conspire to add up to the same thing.

Scientists will make far better priests, spiritualists and theists than the most ardent of religious devotees.

The reason is that a scientist knows to separate religion from God, doctrine from morality, mythology from history. In his quest for knowledge, a scientists uncovers more wonders about the universe than other people. And after applying the scientific method and sifting painstakingly through fact and fiction, if he still believes in God, his faith is that much more unshakeable.

There is no evidence to say that spirituality and science are irreconcilable. There is evidence to say that man evolved from apes. By saying that evolution happened, nobody is saying that God does not exist, or that religions are wrong. At best, it says that holy books can be written or interpreted wrongly, which theologists will tell you themselves. It is my understanding that a great number of scientists, including Albert Einstein himself, were and are Theists.

I'll not go so far as to claim that scientists have done no wrong. Just as a great deal of wrong has been done in the name of religion, a great deal of wrong has been done in the name of science.

But science and religion should not be at war. Since I brought up Albert Einstein, I'll drop one of his quotes here:

"Science without religion is lame, religion without science is blind."

Amen to that.

Cheers,
Prashanth.

Hows this for a toast?

I was reading a book called "The Computational Beauty of Nature" and I was positively clutching my sides, rolling on the floor laughing when I came across this comment by the author:

Engineers work with real world problems, but fudge their results. Mathematicians get precise results, but work with toy problems. Computer scientists, being neither engineers nor mathematicians, work with toy problems and fudge their results.

Now, that would make for a great toast when some of my friends are around! What it needs though, is something about biologists, considering that more than one regular reader of this blog is a biologist. Any suggestions? *evil grin*

Cheers,
Prashanth.

A longish story

This story came out a bit long, in spite of my attempts at making it as concise as possible. It is based in the same world as this one, but should appeal to more readers because the focus is on the hypocrisy of those who work in the name of religion, and the persecution of scientists because they dare to hold their own views on God. Well, not scientists, but magicians in this tale, but as it is often said, what is science but magic to the uninitiated?


Lesk viewed the two approaching riders with apprehension. Soon, he would be riding out with one of them to the Wizard Tower. What was it the High Priest had said? "Wizards and priests often have to work together, son. Think of this exchange as the first step in making ourselves comfortable with each other." As if familiarity alone would heal the rift between the wizards and the priests in the world! And now, Father Riley, standing next to him, repeated his cautions again, "Remember, Lesk, you must hide your disgust at their way of working magic. They impose their will on the elements and all things natural to tap the energies required for their magic. Their concerns are not for God's creations but themselves alone. Look, even now they offer insult to us by sending one lone apprentice to accompany you to the Tower. And here we are, giving the "contingent" a formal welcome they don't deserve. Bah!"

While the apprentices were received, Lesk took stock of the man - no, he was just a lad about his own age - he would be journeying with. His name was Kael, and he had an... intensity... in his eyes that Lesk found he couldn't meet. Like touching a smoldering fire, the thought came unbidden. "Shall we leave now?" came the polite question. Lesk nodded and gazed wistfully at the soaring spires of the Temple of Rhea, Goddess of Wind, his home for nearly as long as he'd lived. Now he was leaving for a place where power-hungry perverters of nature practised their craft. Great. Lesk spurred his horse and tore his eyes away from the comforting spires.

Kael seemed content to leave Lesk with his roiling cauldron of thoughts, talking only when it was necessary. He did, however, ask one question that brought a lump to his throat: "Can you protect yourself if we run into bandits?" Lesk stuttered, "No... no, I can sense and amplify magic, especially of the winds, but the Goddess did not gift me with the ability to cast spells. Not that I would be much good otherwise: I have taken vows to not harm another human being, even in self-defense." Kael nodded as though he'd been expecting it. "Don't worry Acco-lighty," he said flippantly, "I'll protect you." Lesk didn't know whether to be afraid of the possibility of running into bandits or annoyed at Kael's tone. He decided to be both. "Acolyte. Not Acco-lighty," he said firmly. Kael grinned, as though he was the owner of some vastly funny secret. Then, his expression changed so suddenly that Lesk snapped his head back to the road, to see what could make a magician frown like that.

It was a merchant wagon. There were two guards, but they were confronted by a semi-circle of armed bandits, some with crossbows. Kael's lips moved in spellcasting as he spurred his horse faster. Lesk felt him reel off some kind of a stay spell on the bandits, followed by a temporary spell on the grass between the thugs and the wagon. He then proceeded to calmly greet the bandits as though they were neighbours meeting on an evening stroll.

"Greetings, highwaymen," he said pleasantly.

"You two lads want to be heroes?" sneered one of the bandits, and pointed a rusty crossbow at Kael.

Kael cocked his head to the side and said, "Why, don't you know who I am? Let me give you a hint..." He pointed a finger, and the crossbow burst into flames, making the bandit drop it with a yelp of pain. Kael made another dramatic gesture with his hands, and a wall of fire rose in front of the wagon, advancing slowly but surely upon the men, visibly gaining in intensity as it did.

The men paled. "It's the Firestarter!" shouted one, and Lesk felt the first spell trigger as the bandits bolted in fear. Very good, thought Lesk. Fear always work better than bloodshed. And apparently, Kael already had some kind of a reputation with bandits.

He realized, suddenly, that Kael hadn't moved his lips in casting the last two spells. It was as though he'd simply willed fire into happening...

"You're a priest!" he blurted out. Kael merely smiled at him and dismounted to have a word with the merchant. Lesk shook his head to clear his shock. An apprentice wizard wielding priestly magic was too much for him to grasp. He pursed his lips and examined the burnt grass. Priestly magic worked very differently from wizardly magic; Kael would have had to ask an object for permission to start a fire. Lesk noticed something curious: the roots of the grass were unharmed. Belatedly, he recalled the second spell Kael had cast from the saddle. Apparently, it had been a spell of protection from fire. So that was why the Earth had agreed...

And immediately, he knew he was wrong. The request had been made with the intention of saving human lives. The incineration of a few blades of grass would be a sacrifice the Earth would be ready to make for that purpose. Which made the protection spell even more baffling, for it meant that Kael had done it for no reason other than respect, perhaps gratitude. Probably both.

Kael wrenched himself away from the profusely grateful merchant and they continued their journey. "We clearly can't camp out in the open, with the likes of those prowling around," he said, "There's a farm nearby where should be able to ask shelter for a night. Pull over for a minute while I get out of my robes. I don't want to scare the peasant folk." Sensible, thought Lesk, as Kael pulled off his robes to reveal a nondescript tunic underneath. Peasants would panic at the thought of a wizard in their midst.

As they approached the farm, Lesk saw Kael's lips move again in spellcasting, and felt energies being rearranged in the Earth around them. He sensed that it was a simple spell, but considering the area over which it was being cast, Kael would be exhausted by the time he finished. Before he could ask him what he was doing, they came upon the owner and his sons. They dismounted, and Lesk said, "Peace and Prosperity to you, sir. The Goddess' blessings upon you if you can shelter her servant for the night." "Our hospitality is ever open for a servant of the Gods," the man said in ritual answer. Lesk thanked him, and hesitated, thinking to ask hospitality for Kael as well.

To his surprise, Kael touched his forelock in acknowledgement of inferiority and humbly begged shelter and food in exchange for work. The farmer furrowed his forehead, "You're that scribe who passed by last year, aren't ya? Well, clean out the cow shed as well as you did the last time and I'll throw in breakfast as well." Kael beamed at the man, as though he couldn't incinerate his house at a thought, "Thank you for your generosity, kind sir!"

Lesk was led into the house and entertained as well as the farmer's meagre means allowed him to. But every now and then, he would glance out the window to catch a glimpse of Kael shovelling cow dung or hosing an area with water... and felt a pang of pity at a person who would one day be a great wizard, doing such demeaning work. And that too, just after casting an exhaustive spell, whatever it was. Furthermore, Kael wasn't trusted enough to sleep inside the house as Lesk was; he was asked to sleep in the workers' shelter. At least, they both got the same food...

Dawn came and the farmer's family bade them farewell. Lesk said the traditional words of blessing upon the farmer's family and fields, and used his God-given gift to feel out the harmonics of the earth and do what he could to help. He smiled in surprise as he felt everything in unnaturally perfect alignment, and the signature of Kael's spellcasting. So that was what he was doing as they rode in the previous day. "The Goddess has smiled upon you for your generosity, kind sir. I can feel it in the earth... you will have a good harvest this year."

They left with tears of happiness shining on the face of the humble farmer and his family.

"There is something I have been wanting to ask you," Lesk said to Kael when they were out of earshot. Kael sighed and braced himself for questions on his "ulterior" motives for all his actions in the past day. He knew the acolyte could sense every spell he cast...

"Are there other apprentices with Gifts of the Gods at your tower?" Lesk completed. Kael smiled. "Elemental control? No, only in a wizardly way. I'm a rare one, I'm told." "So why did they risking leaving you alone in the company of someone like me? Suppose I converted you and brought you into the fold of our temple?"

"What is the object of this entire exercise?" asked Kael. Lesk thought for a moment. "Trust," he said finally. "Exactly," concluded Kael.

Lesk pondered as they rode, until the Wizard Tower came within sight. "It was a mirrored statement," he said suddenly, "sending you as my lone escort. If we had a low opinion of you, we would feel further insulted. If we understood and trusted you, we would feel honoured. Exactly like how the Gods treat non-believers."

Kael smiled again. "And hopefully, we helped you to see that we respect life and nature every bit as much as you do, and we prefer to earn our respect the way your Scriptures say but your kind has conveniently forgotten." Lesk looked startled at the rebuke and Kael rubbed his temples. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to be rude. Let me make it up to you... what say we twirl for a while before we meet the Arch-Mage?"

"Twirl?" Lesk asked dubiously as they approached a handful of apprentices engaged in a contest of some sort, jumping up and spinning themselves with a conjured vortex of air before they fell back to the ground. A girl younger than either of them ran up to them and declared, "Four turns! Four turns! I broke your record, Kael, you owe me five coppers!" Kael raised an eyebrow. "Well, I never claimed to be an Air Mage. But my friend here can do twice that!"

The girl finally noticed the symbol on Lesk's robes and exclaimed, "Rhea! Well, this ought to be interesting!" She joined her palms said, "Accolite ur Prestes, jwah hest an mirtranth." "Our hand in friendship to you as well, Apprentices and Wizards," Lesk said reflexively and gave Kael a sharp glance. "Accolighty indeed. Another mirrored statement!" he said in a mixture of annoyance and amusement.

Kael flashed him a grin and informed the girl, "He's a channeler, not a caster." "Oh!" she exclaimed, "Alright, get off that horse and try now," and cast a spell to invoke a slowly spinning column of air five feet in front of them.

Lesk shook his head to hide his smile. "Apology accepted!" he yelled and launched into the air as he amplified the vortex, sending himself into a graceful spin, gasping with pleasure at the feeling of pure freedom...

Tragedy is easier

A dear friend gave me pause when she said she doesn't like to read my poems because they are too sad. "A poem can be judged by the depth of emotion it invokes in you," I replied, "Does it really matter which emotion it is?"

But in my heart, I wonder why it is that my poems tend towards the tragic. Is it that I use poetry as an outlet for my troubled emotions? Is it that I aim for poignancy, and poignancy by definition involves an element of sadness? Is it that I simply find tragedy easier to pen than other types of feeling?

It strikes me that I unwittingly pull people into my melancholic moods, while doing little to spread the cheer when I am in a better frame of mind. And I'm not just talking about poetry.

This blog and the poetry blog shall archive happier thoughts from now.

Pssst... this joke made aforementioned friend laugh:
Why do PhD students tend to avoid eating apples?
Because an apple a day keeps the doctorate away.

Cheers,
Prashanth.

In for a penny, in for a pound

It's the beginning of a new semester, and I'm struck with the usual case of the blues. I caught myself blathering drowsily to my labmates that I've been studying for 3 + 12 + 5 + 1 (kindergarten, school, college, doctorate) = 21 years already and there's still no end in sight to lectures and exams. It so happens that all of those people are senior to me, so they took my raving with a pinch of salt and an air of amused tolerance.

The start of a semester serves as an ungentle reminder of what a big commitment a Ph.D. is. But there are a lot of other commitments that we make, every day of our lives. One of the few regrets of my childhood is the fact that I sometimes did not finish what I started. Little things, like sloka recitation contests, science workshops, radio plays... I would start with good intentions, but quit before completing what I set out to do. I allowed myself to be daunted by scope or defeated by my fears. I guess it's all part of growing up, that we learn to be more responsible as time goes by, but old failures always rankle.

At this stage of my life, I treat every undertaking with the philosophy of "In for a penny, in for a pound." That makes me more responsible, but also more dangerous to myself. My conscience is happier... but is my life happier? Perhaps, in the long run, it will be. Hopefully.

Cheers,
Prashanth.

Women can be sexists, too

And entertaining ones, at that! There's nothing wrong with being a feminist, but when women go too far in stereotyping men in conformation with their low opinion of them, it becomes rather hard to keep a straight face.

No, I haven't really met anyone who is as bad as what I've described above, or at least if I have, they've kept their opinions to themselves in my presence. What triggered this is this book: Rhapsody by Elizabeth Haydon. I was hunting for new fantasy authors, having come near exhausting all the books by my current favourites, and picked this one because it had good reviews.

The book does not have a heroine. It has a super-heroine. After getting "remade in fire" in an incident at one point of the story, she becomes ultra-beautiful, so drop-dead gorgeous that men propose to her on sight. And yet, she is so modest that she doesn't realize she has that kind of effect on men. What's more, she has a magical voice that can make a withered rose bloom, and she's no slouch with the sword either.

Well, there's nothing wrong with having superheros or superheroines in a fantasy novel. But what really cracked me up was that the author brings out every possible type of stereotyped male shortcoming in her other characters. For example:

Men are amoral. Not only are the villains ruthless in this book, so are the heros. They have no respect for human life in their quests, even though the ultimate objective may be noble. Rhapsody, of course, is the feminine influence who instils morals in them, and teaches them to respect life and dignity.

Men have huge egos. Rhapsody goes as an ambassador to a prince, who refuses to acknowledge the sovereignty of the nation she represents... because they sent a beautiful female ambassador, more than any other practical reason. And then he sends a small army to prove his superiority, and catch her attention. And gets thoroughly walloped on the battlefield, naturally.

Men think dirty thoughts. Men are always salivating over Rhapsody. Some even have vivid sexual daydreams. Apart from her adopted brothers, every man - even a sworn celibate priest - desires her.

Ah well. Thank God for authors like Ursula Le Guin and Janny Wurts who give women a good name in the field of fantasy fiction in general. The stamp of female authors is that they build depth into their characters by bringing out their feelings, emotions and sensitivity - or lack thereof - much better than male authors can. Male authors on the other hand are much better at bringing out the strengths and weaknesses in their characters at a non-emotional level (I don't want to get started on aspects of the story other than the characters). Unsurprisingly, when a famous male author and a famous female author write together, the result is usually magnificent (Example: Raymond Feist and Janny Wurts; Tracy Hickman and Margaret Weis).

Although Elizabeth Haydon goes overboard with her feminity, she does weave a good tale and builds a rich and magical realm. I see a lot of potential in her work, and I'm willing to give her the benefit of doubt. I will read the rest of the series, for the sake of the story even if not much else...

Cheers,
Prashanth.

.... and then you wish you hadn't

It's finally over. One harrowing week of banging my head on walls, furniture and computers trying to solve questions that either do not have answers, or involve doing a thesis for getting the answer, or have answers that have nothing to do with the question. If that does not make sense, you should try taking one of these exams and figure it out for yourself.

I want to rant.
I want to rave.
I want to yell.
I want to throttle somebody's, anybody's, neck.

I just want to vent my frustration on someone or something.

I sincerely hope I don't flunk, as that would involve taking the test again after 6 months.

I'm going to toss a coin. Heads, I play a computer game. Tails, I read a novel.

Regular programming will commence after I regain a shred of sanity.