124 posts tagged with "in-English"

Alone in Tokyo By Philip Bloom
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From the I-need-to-procrastinate-now dept. Trying to alleviate somehow this miserable run of hours, days, weeks, months of stooping over my books, notes and laptop; of consuming booked holidays alone at home or in the library; of shortening or cancelling planned trips (so that I can spend more time alone at home or in the library); and of gazing through the window at that hateful, unconveniently sunny outer world, I just watched with Pablo episode #4 of Doctor Who (the new TV series): “Aliens of London”.

Doctor Who is an institution in the United Kingdom: actors who are currently playing the main parts appear on the cover of magazines regularly, Daleks are all over the place in London and everyone here seems to love the show, or at least to acknowledge its existence with reverence.

“In the United Kingdom and elsewhere, the show has become a cult television favourite and has influenced generations of British television professionals, many of whom grew up watching the series. It has received recognition from critics and the public as one of the finest British television programmes, including the BAFTA Award for Best Drama Series in 2006.”
— its page in the Wikipedia.

But all that does not changes a tad the fact that the show is dull and unconvincing. Its production is cheap by any standards of modern TV and it conveys the same dramatic intensity as the test card. You know — I have extensive knowledge about Doctor Who myself, having watched distractedly two episodes and two halves recently. I think it's bad. Take the episode we watched in DVD today. As far as I can tell, a UFO crashed against the Big Ben and fell into the Thames. Only that the dead alien pilot was not dead and was not alien. It was one of a bunch of relentessly farting humanoid pigs with zips on their foreheads (sic) who simulated the accident and infiltrated 10 Downing St in disguise and kidnapped the PM to achieve their evil goals. Oh, and the humanoid pigs were actually oversized, green, royalty-dodging versions of E.T. incapable of bending their necks or their arms because the budget for animatronics ran out the minute after the assistant to the carpenter uttered the words “Jeez, Quentin; this is a neat prototype, innit?”. The only merit of this episode, obviously, is that it predicted the swine flu four years ago. I mean, just take a look at the bloody robots (they ain't no robots; they're an extraterrestrial race of mutants). These rice cookers make the robots in Forbidden Planet (1956) look like cutting-edge pieces of engineering. And Wikipedia says this is the “2005 redesign”. There must be a certain amount of irony at work here, or very sick doses of nostalgia, but I just don't get it.

And still, it is iconic in this country while also enjoying incomprehensible success overseas. So it is good that, thanks to Pablo, I got to watch a few episodes. Now I can leave the country in peace. All this is to say that tonight we discovered that Rose Tyler (the main character, together with “the Doctor”) lives in front of us! In effect, although she lives in the fictional location flat 48, Bucknall House, Powell Estate, SE15 7GO London, the filming location is Brandon Estate, in Kennington.

This estate is literally one minute away by foot from my doorstep. This is where we have our GP, and until very recently our nearest post office was that building partially hidden behind the arches, left-hand side in the picture. Come to think about it, we have seen filming crews at work in our neighbourhood quite a few times in the last three years. I wonder if Doctor Who has something to do with that… Although I suspect that it is just the charming suburban irrelevance of these streets that attracts producers here. Now back to X_ƎT_EX.

Because in about four months I'll be switching from this…

…to this:

From this…

…to this:

From this…

…to this:

From this…

…to this:

Xirick has been damn fast replying to my previous post. And the pictures he's used are great to illustrate my changes for the near future. What Xirick didn't know is that I already had an analogous counterpoint for my own argument, ready to be posted today. You know, being as contradictory as I am, you can't post about happiness one day an not try to balance that with sadness the day after. Or maybe you can. Well, I don't think you can. But you definitely can. I know: these photos aren't nearly as good as the ones in Xirick's post. But my point was to illustrate the differences using only my own photos. Enough said.

I'm sad because in about four months I’ll be switching from this…

…to this:

From this…

…to this:

From this…

…to this:

From this…

…to this:

…and so many other wonderful things, habits, activities and feelings that I will leave behind. Some of them difficult, if not impossible, to find in other places. Like the amazing architecture, or rather the flamboyant collage of different styles. And the ostentatious buildings, the cityscapes, and that feeling of living in the city, in the centre (not the center) of the world:

And proper winters (with all the nice things that a winter should have). And solvent organisations to work for; in comfy, spacious offices that are within walking distance from many other important places. Organisations that pay what is fair and where you work the time you are supposed to work, full stop:

And those (few, I know) lovely days of summer spent with friends frolicking on the grass, in one of the many parks:

And the institutions, the organisations, the courses, the opportunities, the knowledge floating around. The libraries, the bookshops:

And the rightful lack of modesty:

And the buzz around, the surprises every day, the unexpected events, the festivals:

And the streets, the variety, the peoples. The freedom, the mind-openers. Walking or running the city. Crossing two blocks means leaving Poland and entering Mexico. Run a bit further and you're in Guinea-Bissau:

And the hub, the connections, the flights, the trains. The freedom again. Having trouble to decide the destination because all the first five countries in the list are close at hand and inexpensive anyway:

And all the friends stopping by, the guests every couple of weeks, friends of other friends who become friends. The parties, the nights out:

And the culture, the music, the big names:

And the events, the conferences, the initiatives:

And most of all, I will be missing these two so much:

The absolute genius of Tim Minchin and a very different take on rationalism (audio only):

He is, like George Carlin, a brilliant comedian with a soft spot for science.

“I want to be, if I can, as sure of the world (the real world around me) as is possible. Now, you can only attain that to a certain degree, but I want the greatest degree of control. I don't… I never involve myself in narcotics of any kind, I don't smoke, I don't drink… because that can easily just fuzz the edges of my rationality, fuzz the edges of my reasoning powers; and I want to be as aware as I possibly can. That means giving up a lot of fantasies that might be comforting, in some ways; but I'm willing to give that up in order to live in an actually real world — as close as I can get to it.”

— James Randi (@8:03)

“Economists… forgive me, for those of you who play the lottery… but economists, at least among themselves, refer to the lottery as a ‘stupidity tax’. Because the odds of getting any payoff by investing your money in a lottery ticket are approximately equivalent to flushing the money directly down the toilet (which, by the way, doesn't require you to actually go to the store an buy anything). Why in the world would anybody ever play the lottery?”

— Dan Gilbert (@6:10) via The German Component

“One great mistake (and maybe this is the legacy of the Romantic Era) is that we think that all the great feelings of transcendence that you might get in the face of a marvelous piece of art; or you feel in front of a landscape; or the wonderful, oceanic sense you have when you feel love for someone… we have this idea that somehow these are incompatible with being rational. And this is a great problem. There is nothing paradoxical about a rational man or woman falling in love or [swirling?] in front of a Michelangelo. These are the great, wonderful emotions of being an adult human being.”

— Ian McEwan (@17:20) via Richard Dawkins

I love quotes; I collect them. Whenever I read or hear a sequence of words that strikes me as true, or as particularly beautiful, cunning or moving, I write it down. Oddly, I have to admit that I love discovering quotations even if the source is considered frivolous or unreliable, e.g. advertising. I guess that the mere realisation that someone else uttered, or put in writing, a thought that one has always regarded as useful or valuable is in itself exciting, no matter the agenda or the legitimacy of the author. In the last few days I have stumbled on these three wonderful videos in YouTube, all of them related to rationalism in one way or another; and I strongly agree with most of what they say. What do you think?

For the past ten months I have been working on the same Flex/Air application. It is part of a larger, multi-tiered, multi-language project, of which the Flex subproject is but the front-end. (Actually, I have been involved in one of the other tiers, too, messing with a different programming language; not all my time has been devoted to Flex development during this year.)

Our Flex codebase is a nice instance of a complex, heterogeneous Air application to which probably more than twenty developers have contributed to date. A not-so-well-known Flex MVC framework is at the core of the architecture, and we leverage quite a good number of Flex components and Flash libraries from third parties. We do unit testing, code coverage and continuous integration.

Ever since I joined the team (when the guys had just upgraded from the beta 3 of Air to Air 1.0) there has been an odd issue with the Air project in Flex Builder 3: we could not use FB3's “design view” to preview the layout of the application or to edit our custom MXML components.

The problems were two. First, the design view displayed what looked like a blank canvas — sometimes with whimsical wireframe edges that seemed to represent containers and other children. But only a few of those children appeared (if any at all). Rarely their sizes and positions were right, or their actual contents visible (see the screenshot below). Only when previewing simple components that inherited directly from Flex standard components (and not from our own components) the result seemed correct.

The second problem was that when switching from code view to design view a pair of errors suddenly appeared for every custom font that the project uses (even if the project builds just fine in code view):

unable to resolve '/project/assets/fonts/customFont.ttf' for transcoding | project | line 195
Unable to transcode /project/assets/fonts/customFont.ttf.                | project | line 195

We gave it a go at trying to solve these issues at the time (ten months ago), with no luck. It never was much of a problem, though. Not for me at least, since I usually prefer to work on code view, even for building layouts and style-tweaking (in design view FB3 is slow rendering your changes, and I'm too fussy with my code to accept the auto-generated MXML). But boy, was it annoying.

A few days ago I investigated these problems again for a while… and this time I cracked it. Let me share what I learnt, because I think it is not that obvious.

The main problem has to do with the limitations of the design view in FB3. As you probably know (because you bothered to read this far), MXML is just a more readable way to describe visual Flash objects. MXML is more intuitive than ActionScript to define the layout of your Flex GUI precisely because the nesting of XML nodes in MXML matches the nesting of visual components that those XML nodes represent. Actually, the Flex SDK compiles all MXML classes to intermediate AS. If you know that, you would presume that Flex Builder treats both AS classes and MXML classes in pretty much the same way. Well, it doesn't.

It turns out that the “design view” can render any MXML class, provided that all its ancestor classes (up to the first standard Flash component) are defined in MXML too, i.e. not in AS.

In our project we had the situation represented in the diagram below. Most of the “screens” or “pages” in our application are based (directly or indirectly) on a common class. That common class, in turn, inherits from some other class that is defined within the MVC framework. The problem was, that common class was written in ActionScript, thus cutting off the hierarchy of MXML classes that the design view in FB3 “understands”.

All I had to do was rewrite that class in MXML and keep the name of the file, changing its extension from as to mxml. It was a quick change: the class was short and I could maintain parts of the original ActionScript embedded within a Script component anyway. Note that no other changes were necessary, because the subclasses don't care whether their superclass is originally written in AS or in MXML.

As for the other issue (the problem with the custom font families), it seems that the design view can't load custom fonts unless they are defined as embedded resources in AS, i.e. not in separate CSS files.

Originally we had something like this:

<mx:WindowedApplication xmlns:mx="http://www.adobe.com/2006/mxml">

    <mx:Style source="../styles/fonts.css" />

    <!-- … -->

</mx:WindowedApplication>

Where styles/fonts.css contained:

@font-face {
    font-family: "_DefaultFont";
    font-weight: normal;
    src:         url("../assets/fonts/verdana.ttf");
}

@font-face {
    font-family: "_DefaultFontBold";
    font-weight: bold;
    src:         url("../assets/fonts/verdanab.ttf");
}

I removed the CSS file and embeded the two font families directly into the MXML component (which is less elegant, of course):

<mx:WindowedApplication xmlns:mx="http://www.adobe.com/2006/mxml">

    <mx:Script><![CDATA[

        [Embed(source='../assets/fonts/verdana.ttf", fontWeight='normal',
            fontName='_DefaultFont', mimeType='application/x-font')]
        private var thisObjectIsNeverUsedButItHasToExist_1:Class;

        [Embed(source='../assets/fonts/verdanab.ttf', fontWeight='bold',
            fontName='_DefaultFontBold', mimeType='application/x-font')]
        private var thisObjectIsNeverUsedButItHasToExist_2:Class;

    ]]></mx:Script>

    <!-- … -->

</mx:WindowedApplication>

I guess the moral of the story is: Adobe, we need a better IDE!

(The third and last installment of my controversial “Cuento agridulce de navidad” is sketched and coming soon. In the meantime, I need to share a thought now, before it vanishes from my Gruyère-shaped memory.) Yesterday officially marked the beginning of the spring term at University of London and all its colleges — among which mine, Birkbeck. Today I got a brand new teaching pack for the core course. During the next eleven weeks I'm supposed to read (and grok!) all this (and ideally should read much more)… in addition to roughly the same amount of reading for one of the optional modules.

…all the while attending classes, preparing a couple of short presentations, writing another two 3K- or 5K-word essays (and I haven't finished all my essays for the first term yet), starting to dive into specific readings for my final dissertation (due in September) and, when possible (hopefully!) attending some of the wonderful seminars and conferences that our department, the School of Languages, Linguistics and Culture has in the oven for this term. I forgot to mention that I also work full-time. Oh, and I'm addicted to the Internet. “Suicidal” is a word that comes to my mind often in these days. And here the thought. Because I risk sounding pretentious (once again), let me first say that with the grandiloquent term “personal challenges” I encompass all the human, worldly, modest enterprises that we pose ourselves throughout life. Unless you can find your own name in the pages of the encyclopaedias, your personal challenges most likely will fall within that vast array of propositions, projects and justifications that we use to invest our existence with some purpose. Your personal challenges are devoid of meaning but for yourself, often hardly noticed by anyone else, completely unknown to the cosmos. And yet, didn't you challenge yourself hardly enough, your life would not be a life but mere resistance. Every time I take up a new personal challenge (a difficult one, not one of the sort “this year I'll eat more vegetables”) I kind of say to myself that, once that's achieved, I'll relax, get a life, switch back from objects to people and become more “normal” (whatever that be). But that never happens; rather the opposite seems true. I feel like I've taken up quite a few personal challenges during the last three years. Some of them proved to be very difficult. At least they were to me. I have succeeded more than failed (or so I think). Annoyingly enough, I keep on cooking new personal challenges which, in my own little world, might well be the toughest to date. Will those be the most rewarding, too? Increasingly, I have the feeling that I'm spreading myself too thin. Does that happen to you? Where is the equilibrium? How do you decide whether a particular enterprise will make you happier or just waste your time? Does the mere fact that I'm reflecting on it and writing this into the wee small hours indicate that I'm damned beyond hope? Good morning.

Watch the music video before reading the rest of this post.

How was that? Did you feel that something didn't quite fit in the picture? That is the music video for 海雪 (umiyuki, “Ocean Snow”) the first single by Jero (ジェロ), released last February in Japan. Jero is a young black American from Pittsburgh… who sings enka. Enka is a form of Japanese popular music which was at its height in Japan during the postwar period. Its main themes are loss, loneliness, unfulfilled love, even suicide. Female singers of enka have been especially popular. I can't help noticing some striking resemblances to Spanish copla; not only in the themes, but also in the staging, the perceived attitudes of the performers, their use of vibrato and the way both genres have gradually become regarded by their respective younger generations as “uncool” and affected. For samples of enka, watch 修羅の花 (shura no hana, “Flower of Carnage”), the beautiful theme song for 修羅雪姫 (shurayukihime, “Lady Snowblood”) sung by Meiko Kaji and later reused by Tarantino in “Kill Bill”; or listen to 川の流れのように (kawa no nagare no yôni, “Like the Currents of the River”) by Hibari Misora, which at some point was proclaimed “the greatest Japanese song of all time” (?). As Jerome C. White himself explains in an interview with CNN International, his maternal grandmother was a native of Yokohama who married an African American. Jerome was born and grew up in Pennsylvania, close to his Japanese grandmother, listening and singing enka even before he could understand the lyrics. Apparently, his debut has been a great success in Japan, where black urban cultures from the United States have been trendy for some years now (as one can gather by the surprisingly large number of shops selling hip-hop-related products in cities like Tokyo and Kyoto). This form of strong cultural hybridisation is still rather unusual in Japan. Although we can find similar cases in other countries, where an “outsider” is “allowed” to succeed in an area that is traditionally perceived as idiosyncratic to that culture, Japan is (still) among the world's most ethnically homogeneous countries. Of course, Jero is not the first performer of enka born outside Japan, but I don't think that there has been any other gaijin before him who brought such distinctive traits of race, nationality, culture and language with him to the genre, all the while being supported by the industry and the media. That said, I must confess that I can't see the influence of rap in his music. Would you have been able to tell, had you listened to umiyuki with your eyes closed?

“In the rise of a new desire for Japan led worldwide by contemporary forms of popular culture, original creations made in Japan are sold to foreign TV networks and media conglomerates (sometimes largely participated or even owned by Japanese companies). Those cultural exports are in effect multimedia content in ‘new’ fields such as animation, videogames and pop music. Cultural content (‘software’) contrasts with the more traditional assets that Japan has been exporting, such as food, bonsai*, martial arts, poetry or, more recently, technology (‘hardware’).*

It is pertinent to ask about the special characteristics of those Japanese cultural products that make them desirable and popular far beyond the Japanese borders, and to reflect on ‘how Japanese’ they are, and in what ways.”

Two days ago I finished this short paper (“Considerations about the nature of Japanese cultural exports”, in PDF) for the university. It is part of the application process for the MA that I want to do this year. Yesterday my future professors confirmed to me, unofficially, that I am accepted. 万歳！ (which translated into Spanish means, roughly, “la que me espera… me voy a cagar la pata abajo”).