:: My Divided Soul ::

Recent events with the game Grand Theft Auto have troubled me. Apparently, one can access secret sex scenes in the game, which has lawmakers, retailers, and parents up in arms. As I understand it, talking to BNG, some parents are mounting a lawsuit against the game’s creator for the material. So there are two places where I get fuzzy.

First of all, are these parents actually under the impression that Grand Theft Auto was a wholesome game until it was know that the sex scenes were in there? Now I’m not trying to say I think the material in the game is right or wrong, but I don’t understand how a game that rewarded theft, murder, and drug dealing is suddenly evil because it contains sex. As I understand it, sex is a legal act in most of this country, which murder and such are not. So why are people so concerned about explicit sex, but not explicit violence? The contradiction can be seen every day on television: blood and violence can be seen on prime time television, but a quick peak at a nipple puts the FCC and legislators on the warpath.

The other thing that bothers me even more is that parents are unwilling to take responsibility for their children and instead turn to censorship as a means by which to shield their kids from what they deem inappropriate. We have seen public outcry on many occasions for song lyrics (e.g., Ice T’s “Cop Killer”), television content, and internet websites. The common response is to try to pressure the creator to publicly apologize and pull the “offensive content” from the public eye. Why can’t parents make these decisions for their own kids and act accordingly? Don’t want your children listening to explicit music? Check the lyrics of albums they want to buy before you allow them to purchase them. Concerned about the images your children might see on television? Make sure to watch with them or, if really concerned, don’t have a television. Want to make sure your children don’t access certain content on the internet? Put the computer out in the open in a room where you can see what your child is accessing.

The bottom line is that a number of parents want to have kids, but don’t want to put in the time and effort it takes to raise them. Parents can be quick to blame the media, the schools, or any other scapegoat they can use, so long as it means they can just be hands-off on a day-to-day basis. I don’t pretend to know what it is like to be a parent, as I have not yet had that experience. But I do firmly believe in the idea that what is right for me is not necessarily right for everyone else. If I don’t want my children exposed to something, I will take the steps to keep it away from them. In the same way, I don’t want other people to tell me what the world, my kids, and I should be exposed to.

Think it’s okay for your kids to shoot people in the head in a video game but not see animated breasts? Fine by me. Just don’t take my right to make that determination for my own kids out of my hands.

One of the benefits of being a graduate student is the opportunity to travel abroad for conferences. I’ve spent the last week in Bremen, Germany at MKM 2005 presenting a paper Terese and I wrote, A Proof-Theoretic Approach to Hierarchical Math Library Organization. Not only did going to the conference afford me the chance to have another paper published, but it also gave me the unexpected and very exciting chance to see Terese again. You can see some pictures from the trip.

I had a really nice single-serving friend from Ithaca to Philadelphia in the form of Dr. Kate Whitlock, a professor at Cornell in Genetics. She was off to a conference in Germany, too, so we got to sit in the terminal in Philadelphia and chat for a bit. The flight to Germany itself seemed quite short, given that my last two international flights were to Kazakhstan and New Zealand, the latter of which included a 40-hour voyage to find my way to Wellington. An 8-hour flight? Fourteen hours in transit total? Nothing! On the flight to Germany, I had two seats to myself, meaning I could sleep comfortably. Of course, I fell asleep just in time to wake up for breakfast.

One of my worries on the trip over was customs. I hate dealing with customs and immigration and find it to be a bit stressful. However, passport control in Germany was unbelievably easy. No “what are you doing here?,” “how long will you be here?,” “can I see your return ticket?,” or “have you ever lived in Texas?” I was through customs in Frankfurt and at my gate to get on my plane to Bremen in less than half an hour. That was reassuring, as Terese was quite worried her 50-minute layover in Amsterdam would not be enough to get through customs and catch her connecting flight.

Upon arriving in Bremen, I took the tram and the train to the university. For the first time in the trip, I got to play the “I’m just a stupid American” card. Apparently, one needs to have the train ticket stamped in a little machine before getting on the train to ensure one is only using the ticket once. I was not aware of this fact and sat on the train to be on my merry way. When the woman came to check my ticket and said, “Das tickethausen nein stampened,” I simply said, “Huh? I don’t speak German.” I’m normally not a fan of coming across as incompetent and stupid, but when I get into such a situation in a foreign country, it seems like a perfectly legitimate way to get through without much trouble. Americans are all trouble anyways, aren’t we?

I made the long walk to the university from the train station and got my room ticket. MKM decided to put us up in the dorm rooms. The room was extremely bare and there was no soap nor shampoo for me to use. I was sharing a bathroom with another person, apparently spending the summer at the university, so I partook of his cleaning products…I hope he doesn’t mind. On the positive side, the room had internet in it, meaning I could keep up with the world and keep in touch with Dexter about the paper we were writing with a July 18th deadline.

After a brief nap, I went back to the airport to pick up Terese. I was happy to be able to have already done the trip so she wouldn’t have to worry about figuring out the train schedule and such. Having been more than three months since I had seen her, I was looking forward to catching that first glimpse of her as she got off the plane. From the observation deck, I saw her walk off of KLM flight 1757 and into the terminal. (I was glad to see she was in fact able to make her connection.) Smiles when our eyes found each other again for the first time in a time that was simultaneously nothing and forever.

The first order of business at the conference was the workshop. It was all about the SESAME project, some huge research grant proposal by most of the people at the workshop. As a result, Terese and I felt very out of place, as we had nothing to do with the proposal. Apparently, we shouldn’t have technically been there, but they didn’t mention the topic of the workshop until after we had registered for it. Luckily, Terese’s father and brother Daniel were coming to visit her, since this was the closest she had been to home in nearly a year. We skipped out on the afternoon sessions and went to Vegesack with them to have a drink, eat some ice cream, and walk around a bit. It was nice to see and chat with her father again, as I last saw him when Terese and I went to New York City in the fall. It turns out that he is quite the successful online poker player, so we chatted about that a bit among other things.

On Friday, I had to present our paper. We were the first to present. Being first can be nice because it means the presentation is over quickly, but it also can be slightly overwhelming, as I have never been to the conference before and I had no idea if there were “standards” I would have to meet. I never have found public speaking to be frightening, as I figure any excuse to make people listen to me for half an hour can’t be bad. Talks of this nature only make me worry that I could be exposed as a fraud, not really knowing what I’m talking about. Question sessions can be difficult because one does not know what to expect and gaps in theoretical background can put the person asking the question and the person answering on different levels making it hard to communicate. There is also the strong fear of discovering that someone else has already done the same work and I simply missed it when looking for related research. Apparently, there is some work done in the area of the paper we wrote and I need to explore it a bit further to find out if the things we are doing truly are unique.

The conference provided a variety of moments. Academics seem to be either really good or really bad at speaking. The good ones are obviously prepared, stay within the allotted time, and are dynamic and exciting. The bad ones don’t seem very interested in their own work, are obviously not well rehearsed (running over 10+ minutes), and sometimes even read straight from the paper. However, a number of the papers were interesting. Our hosts Michael and Andrea Kohlhase discussed the space of knowledge. Serge Autexier, whom I first met at LPAR in Kazakhstan two years ago, presented a great paper on a data structure for representing proof attempts. It gave me several ideas for my own work that I am eager to explore. There were also a number of memorable quotes:

• “They believe it after talking to me for awhile.”: A presenter in Physics in response to a question about his belief on the basic unit of knowledge in his field
• “Great people, but irrelevant.”: Describing the SESAME proposal in the eyes of the “Eurocrats” who reviewed it
• “This is not a sexy area for undergraduate teaching.”: Referring to mathematical knowledge management.
• “I don’t remember what the acronym stands for.”: Referring to SESAME, which stands for “Semantic Structure for Managing Mathematical Knowledge“
• “It is dangerous, but it works.”: A presenter describing some hacks he made to a system
• “I think we’re moving into philosophy.”: Trying to stop a conversation on the value of 1/0
• “So 0-1 = 0?”: Discussing Isabelle’s list representations
• “Well anyway, you have to believe me.”: A presenter, when her demo crashed

After the conference was over, Terese and I spent a couple extra days in Bremen. We moved to the Inn Side Residence-Hotel at the Space Park. I’m still not exactly sure what the Space Park is, although it did have a large building with a movie theater and a rocket. The room was nice and, unlike the dorms at the conference, did not require us to move furniture. Out the window was a river and plenty of windmills. It is the first time I’ve seen windmills and they are pretty darn nifty. There is something peaceful and graceful about the way they move.

We certainly took full advantage of our time together in Bremen. The first day was spent mostly relaxing, including dinner at a Greek restaurant with some of the best meat I have had in my entire life. The moon came out to say hello to us while we were back in our room, bright and unavoidable. I said a few words to she who watches over.

On the second day, we went into downtown Bremen and walked around and shopped. I’m normally not a shopper or browser, but I very much enjoy shopping with Terese. We went to a few clothing stores such as H & M, which do not exist in Japan. Some time ago, Terese had expressed an interest in finding some clothes for me and for the first time, and after shopping there, I think it could be fun to do the same for her. She’s already had a positive influence on my fashion sense, as my pants are now actually long enough (and more comfortable as a result). The next time we see each other, we shall have to go shopping and perhaps force our tastes on each other.

On the way back to our hotel, we stopped at an Aldi to get some food, thinking we’d have a simple dinner consisting mostly of fruit. However, upon arrival at the hotel, we decided that a nice dinner in their restaurant would be better. It was a good choice, as we got to eat outside and have some excellent fish. After dinner, we went back to the room and stayed up most of the night, enjoying the little time and lots of food we had left.

The next day, our taxi picked us up at 6:50am to go to the airport. My flight left at 8:25 and Terese’s at 11:35. Our time in the airport was sad, as it always has been, trying to hold on to those last few precious moments. Despite the fact that our time together was short, despite the fact that we were leaving, despite the fact that we would not see each other again for some time, we still smiled uncontrollably. Leaving each other is certainly sad, but the sadness is accompanied by the joy of time spent together. When the time came, I went to my gate and left Terese to wait for her flight back to Japan. As the plane was pushed back from the gate, I could see her on the observation deck. I said my last good byes and shed a few tears as the Boeing 737-300 left the ground.

My trip home was relatively uneventful. I got through German departure passport control with no problems, although my laptop was subject to a special search and there was a guy with a very large gun in the terminal, which I found rather scary. From Frankfurt to Philadelphia, I was able to sleep half of the way. I was sitting next to three gentlemen who looked very much like they should be in a band together. Maybe my judgement was based on stereotypes, but they had some cool tattoos, were enjoying listening to music, and bought and consumed a large amount of Jack Daniels. I couldn’t resist and I asked the one sitting next to me if they were in a band. As it turns out, they are Playing Enemy, a group on Escape Artist Records returning from a tour in Europe. I listened to some samples on their webpage and they are a little loud and chaotic for my tastes, but they still seemed like cool guys.

Philadelphia immigration and customs proved to be the easiest I have ever gone through in the United States. It took nearly no time at all and they didn’t ask any strange questions. My flight to Ithaca was delayed two hours due to air traffic congestion. Apparently, this is quite a normal problem in the area. When we finally did get on the plane, the pilot said we’d be very lucky if we took off in an hour. It took an hour and a half of taxing and waiting our turn in line. The airport was complete chaos, with planes facing every direction to get to the single runway being used for departure. We eventually made it to Ithaca, three hours later than scheduled. My luggage, on the other hand, arrived two hours later than I did. How my luggage was not able to get from customs to the plane in over two hours is beyond me.

On the plane, I saw a rainbow below. For a time, it seemed to follow behind our plane like a pet. Shortly before we landed, I enjoyed the sunset out the left window and the moon out the right. It was as though the plane served as a conduit between which the two were speaking to each other. In that moment, I said a few more words and thank yous for the opportunity presented to me.

Overall, I’d say this trip could not have gone any better. My work was actually interesting to some people in the community. I unexpectedly got to see she whose influence and impact in my life is deep and unmistakable. I am truly lucky these days.

I often get deer and other creatures around my house. Today seems to have been a day of more encounters than usual. This morning, I went to the office around 6:45. As I was walking passed Rhodes Hall, a deer came out from behind the building not eight feet away from me. I stopped and looked at her and said hello, and she did the same. We looked at each other for a few seconds, then turned and continued to go our separate ways. I made sure to wish her a good day.

This evening, a doe walked into my yard, sat down in the bushes, and brought along this little friend:

I rarely get to see the young ones in my yard, so I very much enjoy it when they come around. They tend to be energetic and a little clumsy, following their mothers around for guidance. A couple years ago, I watched three fawns grow up, as they frequented my yard with their parents (sometimes up to eight deer in the yard at once).

It’s times like these that I’m sure I made the right choice coming to Cornell instead of going to UPenn. I very much doubt I would have had the enjoyment of watching nature from my kitchen in the mornings and evenings in the large city. It’s something I doubt I could ever want to give up. There is something refreshing and tranquil about seeing uncaged animals freely exploring the world around them.

When Mac OS X 10.4 came out, Apple introduced a new feature called Dashboard, which is a program to run widgets, small programs to display information or perform simple tasks. I decided I wanted to design a widget to display animated weather maps and so I took a look at the work involved (HTML, JavaScript, and CSS) and wrote the widget Radar In Motion. Websites have popped up all over the internet for developers to upload their widgets so other users can benefit from them, including Apple’s own list. On that page, they keep track of the most downloaded widgets. Well, today the most downloaded widget is mine! It has been downloaded more than 80,000 times since I posted it in the end of June. I’ve written a few in the past and made them available, only to have no one really use them and someone else design much better versions of the same thing. Now I’ve designed a useful program that I enjoy maintaining and that not only I use (now that I have added enough RAM to my computer to make Dashboard usable), but that other people seem to want. Maybe now I can actually call myself a computer scientist.

At the suggestion of a few of my friends, I joined the IAUA Ultimate Frisbee Summer League. It has been an interesting experience, quite different from what I expected. I’ve played pickup games within the CS department for the last few years. These games tend to be rather low-stress and lack much in the way of organization.

I figured summer league would be relatively similar, with the only addition being a need to keep accurate score. I thought that my skills would be comparable to the rest of the people playing. Oh, was I ever wrong. Most of the people on my team have at least five years of competitive experience. They use words like “poach” and “no strike,” which to me would mean hunting illegally and deciding that the work contract is actually fair enough. They organize everyone in a stack on the field (although technically, it is a queue). They can throw the frisbee in at least three different ways.

I spent the first practice feeling rather clumsy and inadequate, as I just barely understood what was going on and my throws were not exactly world-class. I do remember a time when I was the 5th-best frisbee thrower back in elementary school, but those days are long gone. Others were offering suggestions on everything from how I was standing to how I was gripping the frisbee. I’m not used to feeling that incompetent or out of my element. I left the first practice not sure it was going to be as fun as I thought and thinking that if I didn’t enjoy it, I could always not go.

Our first game happened the next day. Although I still had moments of feeling incompetent, I enjoyed playing and cheering on my team immensely. I even managed to catch the frisbee in the end zone for a score. It was at that game I realized I shouldn’t get to feeling too discouraged and should instead look at this as an opportunity. These people obviously know more about frisbee than I do. I should take the advice of my teammates to heart and really try to listen to what they have to say so I can benefit from their experience. I have the chance to challenge myself to do something I haven’t done before.

Wow, you have to check out the new song “Pieces” that is streaming on Sevendust’s website. Apparently, a lot has happened to them in the past six months and it makes for some very aggressive music. Sevendust already has some great “I’m pissed off and feel like driving down the street with my stereo at full blast” tunes (”Face To Face,” “Enemy,” “Rumble Fish”), but this new song is just crazy. Their new album coming out on October 11th is going to be wicked.

It’s been quite some time since I’ve posted new pictures to my gallery. However, I have taken some pictures that didn’t end up on my page, namely, the pictures from the Aboul-Hosn Family Reunion in Williamsburg, VA. They are on the Aboul-Hosn family webpage, which I maintain.

I find family reunions to be extremely refreshing. The Aboul-Hosns are a very large and connected group; currently it is estimated that there are 18,000 in the world. (Interesting note: the Aboul-Hosns were the first Lebanese to come to America.) Every year, around 100 or 200 make it to the reunion to talk, eat, and be happy. It’s getting to the point where I recognize a lot of the people there and we get to catch up. I also meet a bunch of new people related to me every year. I leave the reunions with happy memories, a reminder of the wonderful family of which I’m a part, and plenty of invitations to come stay with people.

Next year, I’m running the family reunion in Hershey, PA. I look forward to implementing some new ideas and trying to make it the best reunion to date. Mainly, I want to try to give back to the family I feel has given me so much.

I’m as big a music fan as the next person. And I certainly enjoy some hip hop. What I don’t enjoy is people having a party outside at 12:30am with rap blasting. You know your music is too loud if I can hear it inside my house 0.4 miles away with my air conditioner and dehumidifier running, with music playing to fall asleep (The Cardigans — the only CD I’ve fallen asleep to for eight years), and the tinnitus in my right ear.

So what is one to do in such a case? Get dressed, walk to the party, and tell them to turn the music down, of course! This may seem like a pretty lame thing to do, but I take great pleasure in it for some reason. I had to do it once two years ago with the same people. There is just something very amusing about going to a bunch of 18-20 year olds and saying, “Excuse me, do you know who is in charge of the music. Because I live in a house beyond those trees and I can hear your music as I try to sleep, so you need to turn it down.” Then when the slightly intoxicated Ithaca College student says “I don’t know,” I say, “Well, it needs to be turned down or I am calling the police.”

At that point, the people trying to find someone to turn down the music start calling me “sir,” which is hilarious, as I am only a few years older than them. In their voice is the, “oh no, he can’t call the cops because if he does I’ll get in trouble for underage drinking and my parents would kill me.” So inevitably the music gets turned down and I walk away laughing, disappearing into the darkness as I hear voices murmur about “some random guy from up the street.”

You know, I look forward to the days of being an old man talking about how I had to go uphill both ways in the snow to get to school back in aught four.