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tarigwaemirAd Mundo Exteriore,
Looking over the last entry, I really have to watch those run-ons. >_< That's what happens when you just continually type for an hour without looking back. Heh. I usually self-edit as I write, but I think I was sleepy. Oh well, think of it as a failed attempt at stream-of-consciousness.
Oh dear. Don't tell me that Professor Thaddeus actually included a quote in the homework. Apparently, Lord Kelvin once said, "A mathematician is one to whom that is as obvious as that twice two makes four is to you." The "that" refers to the equation: "the integral of e^-u² with respect to u from 0 to infinity is equal to the sqaure root of π divided by 2." -_- Apparently it is easy to prove if you express in polar coordinates certain integrals over a certain set of curves that bound a certain rectangle in the xy-plane. Don't ask me, I have no idea what it means either.
Actually, our math professor, being an HPTF alumnus himself, is probably just as prone to insanity as we are. In his case, the insanity seems to express itself in speaking in long strings of variables as he writes proofs on the board and then turning around to ask, "So what's the next logical step?" I usually look down and grimace at my notepaper. Of course, other equally insane students actually know the right answer. -_- Obviously, I'm not meant to be a mathematician. And the infuriating thing is, I actually can handle all these calculations. I'm good at applying multivariable calc, just awful at proving theorems about it.
Actually, I do have some idea how to do the aforementioned problem...I'm supposed to apply the change of variables for two dimensions at some stage in the process.
Finished Chesterton's biography of St. Francis of Assisi and started reading his biography of St. Thomas Aquinas, in which the author argues very cogent and startling points about theology. It would have been a fine rebuttal to the original sin sermon of that Universalist/Unitarian minister who speaks every Sunday on the New York Times radio station. Now, I've promised myself to never rant specifically about theology or religion on my LiveJournal, but this ludicrosy is really too funny to be missed. I won't discuss doctrine but just describe the sermon. Actually, just to be nice, I'll put it in a LJ-CUT, and if you want to read, you've made your choice.
The minister (who really isn't a bad man, just peers at the world through rose-colored glasses) told this story about a little boy in kindergarten. On his first day, the teacher said, "We're going to draw today," and the boy was happy because he could draw all kinds of things in all sorts of colors. So he took up his crayons and started drawing all kinds of things in all sorts of colors. The teacher told him, "Wait. We're going to draw flowers." So he started drawing flowers: roses, lilies, tulips, asters, etc. The teacher said, "Wait, let me show you how." And she drew a red flower with a green stem. The next day, the teacher said, "We're going to play with clay today," and the boy was happy because he could build all kinds of things with clay. He started to pinch his clay, and the teacher said, "Wait. We're going to make dishes." So he made all sorts of dishes: tall ones, small ones, plates, bowls, cups, etc. The teacher told him, "Wait, let me show you how." And she made one deep dish.
So the boy learned how to wait and watch the teacher show them how to do things. The boy transferred to a different kindergarten, and on his very first day there, the teacher said, "We're going to draw today." And the boy sat and waited for the teacher to start drawing. She came over and asked, "Why aren't you drawing?" He said, "Aren't you going to show me how?" She answered, "Draw whatever you want! It'll be boring if everyone drew the same thing."
After this point, the minister proceeded to lecture on how the doctrine of original sin restricted creativity.
What?! Where did that come from? Creativity? All right, so I can see the logic behind saying that the concept of original sin is restrictive in terms of human pleasure and instinctive drives (Freud and his neuroses, la-di-da), but what does that have to do with creativity? I can even, with considerable lenience, accept that this extremely contrived and ridiculous little story is speaking about how excessive obedience and being too afraid to do wrong is bad for the soul, but where does the connection to creativity come in? What, is he saying that believing in original sin prevents us from sinning in new and unusual ways? Or is it that believing in original sin prevents us from becoming artists or something? (Plenty of artists believed in original sin. They sinned anyway, like all humans do, but sometimes guilt can lead to great inspiration. For example, Dostoyevsky, see Grand Inquisitor passage in The Brothers Karamazov. And even if they didn't feel such artistic guilt, I doubt that believing in the idea of original sin made them any less creative.) It doesn't help that he never explains what he means by creativity, but certainly all the connotations I know are not applicable to the scenario.
And I did say that I wasn't going to say anything about religious doctrine, but let me just add this note. The minister apparently was assuming that original sin meant that we were all born evil or something like that. Original sin means we have the capacity to disobey and a predilection to enjoy disobeying, but it doesn't mean we're inherently bad. That idea in itself is absolute heresy, and trust me, plenty of people were excommunicated by the Church for this particular heterodoxy. (Oh, um, no offense to pure Calvinists, who actually do believe in a sense that some people were born naturally evil. Sorry. Not that Calvinism is stupid. It's logically consistent, just rather terrifying and inflexible from my point of view. Why there aren't too many pure Calvinists left in the world today, I fear.) In any case, the minister was Universalist/Unitarian, which accepts all faiths as true and therefore must be in a dreadful doctrinal muddle full of unresolved contradictions, but that doesn't excuse him from shoddy theology.
Oh, and before people object to my note above and start quoting Dante, with his Limbo and unbaptized babies in Hell, I'd just like to say that Dante isn't established Catholic doctrine, even if some Catholics themselves teach it that way. The Catechism of the Catholic Church says that the only way for someone to be sentenced to Hell is if he or she dies in mortal sin, and mortal sin itself is defined to be a irrevocable act of repudiating God. It defines original sin as a state inherited from Adam and Eve, not an act in itself, so unbaptized children who have not committed any real sins certainly will not be damned eternally.
Well, that's the end of the catechism lesson for today, class. I hope you'll join me next week...no, I'm kidding. Let's hope I'll never be tempted to write about theology on LJ again. I usually don't discuss religion with friends except when provoked, in which cases I usually regret it. (And occasionally I blow up, but that's more to do with my temper than anything else.) But it's sort of hard to avoid it when you've been reading Chesterton, especially his hagiographies. He's such a delightful writer, with epigrammatic turns of phrases, and he explains many puzzling aspects of doctrine in a very clear and simple way. He is also a rationalist and argues logically, so he's probably more accessible to the modern skeptic. In any case, Tari shall refrain from lecturing about theology in the future. (She thinks.)
Anyway, what I really wanted to talk about—yes, I know you're thinking, "There's more?!"—was this new drama on KTV. It's called Yellow Handkerchief, and Mother says it's probably about revenge, because yellow is the color of vengeance in Asian culture. I never knew that. Is that right, Tryo-chan? It's about a guy (ugly, last starred in a drama where he marries an older woman who has trouble getting pregnant) who dumps this girl (newbie, last starred in a drama where she was a ditzy model who insulted me greatly by sharing my first name) for his rich boss (female, for your information, you slash/yaoi fans with your minds in the gutter). The girl is pregnant with his child, and they had been affianced before he became a total bastard. Actually, they grew up together. (It is not entirely clear why this guy, who apparently was worthy of the girl's love for many, many years, suddenly became this utter jerk.) The girl's mother, who has a bad heart, goes to see the guy soon after a traumatic surgery and has a fatal heart attack after he coldly and cruelly refuses to listen to her pleas for him to have mercy on her daughter. The girl, of course, swears to never forgive the guy on her mother's grave. Dum dum DUM!
I like revenge stories, especially those with the stereotypical class conflicts. My favorite character from this drama several years ago called First Love was the leading male role's younger brother, who is intelligent and studying to be a judge at Seoul National University (my father's alma mater!). That particular character puts his studies on hold and rises to a position of power in a huge corporation, and he crushes the rival business that just happens to be owned by the man who crippled his older brother and ruined his family. Ah...sweet revenge. (Of course, he comes to see the error of his ways and learns that revenge isn't everything. Ugh, stale morals. Everyone knows revenge is wrong, and it's healthy or morally right, take your pick, to forgive, but the story is less interesting.) So I'm expecting a lot from this series. ^_^
...Tari
Looking over the last entry, I really have to watch those run-ons. >_< That's what happens when you just continually type for an hour without looking back. Heh. I usually self-edit as I write, but I think I was sleepy. Oh well, think of it as a failed attempt at stream-of-consciousness.
Oh dear. Don't tell me that Professor Thaddeus actually included a quote in the homework. Apparently, Lord Kelvin once said, "A mathematician is one to whom that is as obvious as that twice two makes four is to you." The "that" refers to the equation: "the integral of e^-u² with respect to u from 0 to infinity is equal to the sqaure root of π divided by 2." -_- Apparently it is easy to prove if you express in polar coordinates certain integrals over a certain set of curves that bound a certain rectangle in the xy-plane. Don't ask me, I have no idea what it means either.
Actually, our math professor, being an HPTF alumnus himself, is probably just as prone to insanity as we are. In his case, the insanity seems to express itself in speaking in long strings of variables as he writes proofs on the board and then turning around to ask, "So what's the next logical step?" I usually look down and grimace at my notepaper. Of course, other equally insane students actually know the right answer. -_- Obviously, I'm not meant to be a mathematician. And the infuriating thing is, I actually can handle all these calculations. I'm good at applying multivariable calc, just awful at proving theorems about it.
Actually, I do have some idea how to do the aforementioned problem...I'm supposed to apply the change of variables for two dimensions at some stage in the process.
Finished Chesterton's biography of St. Francis of Assisi and started reading his biography of St. Thomas Aquinas, in which the author argues very cogent and startling points about theology. It would have been a fine rebuttal to the original sin sermon of that Universalist/Unitarian minister who speaks every Sunday on the New York Times radio station. Now, I've promised myself to never rant specifically about theology or religion on my LiveJournal, but this ludicrosy is really too funny to be missed. I won't discuss doctrine but just describe the sermon. Actually, just to be nice, I'll put it in a LJ-CUT, and if you want to read, you've made your choice.
The minister (who really isn't a bad man, just peers at the world through rose-colored glasses) told this story about a little boy in kindergarten. On his first day, the teacher said, "We're going to draw today," and the boy was happy because he could draw all kinds of things in all sorts of colors. So he took up his crayons and started drawing all kinds of things in all sorts of colors. The teacher told him, "Wait. We're going to draw flowers." So he started drawing flowers: roses, lilies, tulips, asters, etc. The teacher said, "Wait, let me show you how." And she drew a red flower with a green stem. The next day, the teacher said, "We're going to play with clay today," and the boy was happy because he could build all kinds of things with clay. He started to pinch his clay, and the teacher said, "Wait. We're going to make dishes." So he made all sorts of dishes: tall ones, small ones, plates, bowls, cups, etc. The teacher told him, "Wait, let me show you how." And she made one deep dish.
So the boy learned how to wait and watch the teacher show them how to do things. The boy transferred to a different kindergarten, and on his very first day there, the teacher said, "We're going to draw today." And the boy sat and waited for the teacher to start drawing. She came over and asked, "Why aren't you drawing?" He said, "Aren't you going to show me how?" She answered, "Draw whatever you want! It'll be boring if everyone drew the same thing."
After this point, the minister proceeded to lecture on how the doctrine of original sin restricted creativity.
What?! Where did that come from? Creativity? All right, so I can see the logic behind saying that the concept of original sin is restrictive in terms of human pleasure and instinctive drives (Freud and his neuroses, la-di-da), but what does that have to do with creativity? I can even, with considerable lenience, accept that this extremely contrived and ridiculous little story is speaking about how excessive obedience and being too afraid to do wrong is bad for the soul, but where does the connection to creativity come in? What, is he saying that believing in original sin prevents us from sinning in new and unusual ways? Or is it that believing in original sin prevents us from becoming artists or something? (Plenty of artists believed in original sin. They sinned anyway, like all humans do, but sometimes guilt can lead to great inspiration. For example, Dostoyevsky, see Grand Inquisitor passage in The Brothers Karamazov. And even if they didn't feel such artistic guilt, I doubt that believing in the idea of original sin made them any less creative.) It doesn't help that he never explains what he means by creativity, but certainly all the connotations I know are not applicable to the scenario.
And I did say that I wasn't going to say anything about religious doctrine, but let me just add this note. The minister apparently was assuming that original sin meant that we were all born evil or something like that. Original sin means we have the capacity to disobey and a predilection to enjoy disobeying, but it doesn't mean we're inherently bad. That idea in itself is absolute heresy, and trust me, plenty of people were excommunicated by the Church for this particular heterodoxy. (Oh, um, no offense to pure Calvinists, who actually do believe in a sense that some people were born naturally evil. Sorry. Not that Calvinism is stupid. It's logically consistent, just rather terrifying and inflexible from my point of view. Why there aren't too many pure Calvinists left in the world today, I fear.) In any case, the minister was Universalist/Unitarian, which accepts all faiths as true and therefore must be in a dreadful doctrinal muddle full of unresolved contradictions, but that doesn't excuse him from shoddy theology.
Oh, and before people object to my note above and start quoting Dante, with his Limbo and unbaptized babies in Hell, I'd just like to say that Dante isn't established Catholic doctrine, even if some Catholics themselves teach it that way. The Catechism of the Catholic Church says that the only way for someone to be sentenced to Hell is if he or she dies in mortal sin, and mortal sin itself is defined to be a irrevocable act of repudiating God. It defines original sin as a state inherited from Adam and Eve, not an act in itself, so unbaptized children who have not committed any real sins certainly will not be damned eternally.
Well, that's the end of the catechism lesson for today, class. I hope you'll join me next week...no, I'm kidding. Let's hope I'll never be tempted to write about theology on LJ again. I usually don't discuss religion with friends except when provoked, in which cases I usually regret it. (And occasionally I blow up, but that's more to do with my temper than anything else.) But it's sort of hard to avoid it when you've been reading Chesterton, especially his hagiographies. He's such a delightful writer, with epigrammatic turns of phrases, and he explains many puzzling aspects of doctrine in a very clear and simple way. He is also a rationalist and argues logically, so he's probably more accessible to the modern skeptic. In any case, Tari shall refrain from lecturing about theology in the future. (She thinks.)
Anyway, what I really wanted to talk about—yes, I know you're thinking, "There's more?!"—was this new drama on KTV. It's called Yellow Handkerchief, and Mother says it's probably about revenge, because yellow is the color of vengeance in Asian culture. I never knew that. Is that right, Tryo-chan? It's about a guy (ugly, last starred in a drama where he marries an older woman who has trouble getting pregnant) who dumps this girl (newbie, last starred in a drama where she was a ditzy model who insulted me greatly by sharing my first name) for his rich boss (female, for your information, you slash/yaoi fans with your minds in the gutter). The girl is pregnant with his child, and they had been affianced before he became a total bastard. Actually, they grew up together. (It is not entirely clear why this guy, who apparently was worthy of the girl's love for many, many years, suddenly became this utter jerk.) The girl's mother, who has a bad heart, goes to see the guy soon after a traumatic surgery and has a fatal heart attack after he coldly and cruelly refuses to listen to her pleas for him to have mercy on her daughter. The girl, of course, swears to never forgive the guy on her mother's grave. Dum dum DUM!
I like revenge stories, especially those with the stereotypical class conflicts. My favorite character from this drama several years ago called First Love was the leading male role's younger brother, who is intelligent and studying to be a judge at Seoul National University (my father's alma mater!). That particular character puts his studies on hold and rises to a position of power in a huge corporation, and he crushes the rival business that just happens to be owned by the man who crippled his older brother and ruined his family. Ah...sweet revenge. (Of course, he comes to see the error of his ways and learns that revenge isn't everything. Ugh, stale morals. Everyone knows revenge is wrong, and it's healthy or morally right, take your pick, to forgive, but the story is less interesting.) So I'm expecting a lot from this series. ^_^
...Tari
