Vibes... silly?

Ever since I got to bloggigng I regularly check out several blogs. Most of them rather amuse me in a quiet way, but some actually grip me to them. I have this theory that you can infer some (or a lot) about a person from their writing. Certainly a blog is hardly the proper source for accurate and relevant information about a person, since when writing a blog one is prone to make tols of nistakes, seeing as it's a casual thing one does for fun, really, and being overly serious about fun is a bit of an oxymoron. Still, grammar and spelling apart, and even beyond the content of one's writing, perhaps hidden amidst the choice of words, the punctuation, the lenght of the sentences or the odd exclamation of LOL and LOLOLOL and even LMAO, I believe, lies something to be known about the author. What that is... How am I supposed to know, if I'm hardly sure that there is anything at all. perhaps whatever I'm trying to find is the proverbial spoon.

What spoon, you ask? Do you really have to ask? You don't? Then you're welcome to skip this paragraph. If you do, read on. "Do no try to bend the spoon." The little kid with appearent telepathical powers said. "That is impossible. Instead try to realise that there is no spoon and that it is only you that bends." Neo took the mirror-polished spoon and, gazing at his own reflexion in it, cocked his head and, to his own bewilderment, the silver stem bowed to the side, mimicking his gesture. Soon he'd be able to spring the spoon in whatever form he'd wish. What do I mean by quoting "The Matrix"? Simply that I might be all too willing to believe there is something to be read beyond words that I raise my expectations about other bloggers to the statute of educated guesses.

Of course, I could be wrong.

I still wonder, though, what if I'm not? What if there is something to be understood in a blog beyond what the blogger is trying to say? Should this mean that the vibes I geet from some blogs are genuine (and I don't mean accurate, only that I'm not imagining things)? Or am I just being silly? Do you get any vibes from my writing? Should I have taken the red pill?

Vibrant goodbyes to all my vibe getting and non vibe getting readers alike.

ArabianShark's lateral line picks up some very yummy vibes right now. Snack time!

Ow, my eyes hurt.

Is there no rest for the wicked? How about for good ol' me? Do I qualify as a 'wicked', just for the issue? At any rate...

First off, it's not raining any more. It's not even cloudy. That's the first and foremost reason for my eyes to hurt. This time of the year the sun never seems to rise very high over the horizon, so wherever I go it seems I'm stuck with staring into the sun half the time. Call me vampire (and some of you *do*, thank you very much...), but I'd take blizzards and halestorms over this "lightfest" (which is hardly a word, but what the hell) any day.

Second, there's the matter of an investigation paper I have to write. Writing comes easily to me (dare you say otherwise?), for as long as it is either fiction writing or something... light, for want of a better word. You know, like a blog or something. Research papers... I guess it mostly depends on the matter being researched (this is to say I'm doing another unrelated research thing at the same time... which has me thrilled). This one is supposed to be on the Apple iPod player. Now, Apple doesn't pay me a red penny to advertise for them (even though they do have some pretty neat stuff), but I must say I rather like that thing. The problem is I'm supposed to document my paper with pictures of the menus. Now this would hardly be any daunting a task, if I could handle a camera properly. Right off the bat my hands tremble too much to take any clear pictures of minute objects. That's anxiety for you. Then one should consider the fact that I don't know the first thing about photography. Last, but not least, the camera I'd be using won't focus the dispaly propperly, even in the hands of my colleague. So, where does that leave me? Replicating the iPod menu screens as accurately as I can. That means counting the pixels in the tiny LCD screen and reproducing them, dot per dot, on some graphics program. Tools of the trade? A magnifying glass and a sewing needle.

Now, sharks are, in general, severey myopic, which isn't much of a handicap for them, seeing as their sense of smell is pretty much unmatched in the water and they have unique sensorial organs (Ampullae of Lorenzini, if I'm not mistaken) which enable them to sense nerve impulses within their prey, not to mention that sound travels approximately five times faster in water than in air, and they have a custom-made sense of 'hearing' which allows them to sense movement in the water, so they're pretty much well attired for most tasks... except maybe telling a surfer lying on his board with his limbs in the water from a seal or a manatee. That and counting the pixels on an iPod. I can't even see straight out of my good eye anymore.

Wide-eyed (you wouldn't believe how much so!) farewells to all my water- and land dwelling readers alike.

ArabianShark is now putting his eyelids to use. Yes, sharks do have eyelids, but they don't blink, not only because water cleans their eyes all he time but also because they don't want to miss a single detail of their very exciting lives!

Woo Hoo!

The Shark is in his element, Ladies and Gents. It's not raining; it's absolutely pouring outside. A true deluge. Also, as you should know, if you're in my area, the wind is a force to be reckoned. This weather is not for the weak of... umbrella. Right, that didn't sound very well, let me rephrase that. This is hardly the weather for weak umbrellas. Bus stops now serve not a dual but a triple purpose: They serve as stopping points for buses (can you believe it?); they serve as shelter from the rain for "unprepared" or "caught off guard" pedestrians and they shelter those of feeble umbrellas from the wind on the outrside. That's right, a commonplace sight around here, groups of people standing in the rain behind bus stops, not in them, with their umbrellas open, waiting for the strong gusts to settle, lest the brittle structures snap. That's hardly an issue for my umbrella, however. It's quite old, the fabric of the canopy is beginning to unweave and some of the seams have had to be re-stitched, but the wiring on the canopy is quite sturdy, as is the main shaft. I fear no wind.

It is raining cats and dogs, yes. Already I've been bitten and clawed by several of those furries. One such cat was surely Erwin Schröedinger's. How do I know, you ask? Well, it was not alive.

At any rate, it's a real flood out there. Who's up for skinnydipping?

Soaking wet (and, if you'd like, messy) farewells.

ArabianShark merrily swims away... past the bus station, around the corner of the coffee shop, left at the intersection and off for a stroll. It *is* that flooded outside.

St. Valentine's Day

Ah, Valentines day. The day to re-kindle to flames of your love towards your significant other, add another log to the fire or set the fire in the first place. Of course, if that's your case, you'd be better off during the months of June, July and August, statistically. Unless you're in Oz, in which case even the weather should be in your favour. Go on, mate!

Tis the day for a date, no? A quiet romantic dinner by candle light, a movie perhaps? A few tips you you take this line of thinking:

a) No matter how long you waited for the latest gore/blood/shooting/hack & slash fest, these have "WRONG" printed in great bold red letters all over;

b) Romantic Comedies are the genre of choice of a very large number of people of both genders. This is not, however, one hundred percent guaranteed to be your best pick;

c) Fellow geeks, your lady friend isn't bound to be thrilled about watching all of the Star Wars/Lord of the Rings/Matrix movies back to back.

A Valenine's card may be regarded as a very romantic gesture either to begin or to resume a lovely relationship. It is costumary to write a little poem inside. Again, guys, my pointers:

a) Roses are red, violets are blue. Why do I live? I live to love you. - This never worked for me. Try something else;

b) R0535 r r3d, vi01375 r b1u3... - Leetspeak. Deadly effective, if you're planing a quiet evening all by yourself;

c) Roses are #FF0000, violets are #0000FF... - Geekspeak. Not much better. Perhaps if you're infatuation is a geek as well (yes, there ARE female geeks)... but still not likely;

d) Violets are #0000FF, roses are #FF0000, all my base are belong to you - this is plainly disatrous...

Now is about the time you ask, "Hey, Sharky boy, what are you doing for Valentine's Day?"

Here's a hint...


Wishing you all better luck than mine in the tides of love.

ArabianShark has left the building.

White faces on the Silver Screen

Everyone's a critic, I'm someone, ergo, I'm a critic. A cinema critic. Not quite, but I needed an opening line.

Today I thought I'd make my review of Memoirs of a Geisha, which I mentioned some time ago. If you remember, I had my hopes up for it. Addressing the sole quesion I raised at that time, I did dislike the shade of blue in Sayuri's eyes. But that's just splitting hairs.

It's hard for me to review this movie as a movie alone, regardless of the novel it's adapted from. Even though I as pretty much had at "Amblin" in the opening credits (really, don't you just love everything that comes from there? With the sole exception of ET, perhaps...), I was put off by some not always minor details that got trampled. Of course I realise that, in order for the movie to have an acceptable run time some of the book has to be cut, and that is an art on itself. Think Bram Stoker's Dracula. Francis Ford Coppola did a superb job there. Nevertheless, and even though I think much of the left out information wouldn't really have made it a better film, I still feel some things should not have been left out. Also, some changes in the adaptation weren't great, such as Nobu having both arms. Others work just as fine or even better than the original, perhaps, such as the confrontation between Sayuri and Hatsumomo in the tea house. That Colonel Derricks should replace the minister doesn't work so good, IMO. That Sayuri should meet the Chairman shortly after breaking her arm rather than at the age of fourteen really has little to no impact on the storyline.

The overall look and feel of the picture is quite nice, with the moving shots following the characters as they run quite well done, unlike some movies that plainly remind you of Blair Witch Project in that area.

John Williams, who, by the way, passed on making the music for the fourth Harry Potter film so he could work on this movie, delivered all that was expected once again. The original score is superb and every single piece of background music is awesome. I particularly rememeber an almost tribalistic drumming as Chiyo first becomes a maiko. Incidentally, during that scene a shot of her at the hairdresser shows her visibly upset as her hair is combed with some liquid. In case you wonder what upsets her so much, and even though this isn't evident, the liquid is molten wax, which I wouldn't like to coat my hair in either. Hair gel, anyone?

Lastly, I'd like to call your attention to the fact that very few elements, if any at all, are out of place or time in this movie, which gave painstaking attention to deatil in scenery, props and historical fact so that, even though the plot is a work of fiction, for all you know, could have happened.

Right, that about does it.

Sayonra. Until tomorrow.

ArabianShark's skelleton, unlike other sharks, is made of bone, not cartilage, yet I bow in farewell.

*CRACK*! Ow! Is there a doctor in the house?


Yes, Pie! That's the word of the day, pie, and the topic for today's entry.

Pie, for those who don't know, is a dish of pastry containing either custard, cream, fruit or other sweet relish. Alternatively, pie as a main course or snack, rather than a dessert or a sweet snack, may be prepared with meat or cheese (quiche, pronounced kee-she, not quicky). As an expression, pie may be used to denote the whole of a pool, generally of money, e. g., "I want a piece of the pie".

Oh, what's that? Right. Check that, the word is Phi, not Pie. My bad...

Phi, which I asked my readers to clarify upon some weeks ago, is a number. If you remember correctly, my question is how is it defined as an irrational number. Today I'm glad, nay, proud to say I have an answer. Phi is half of the sum of one and the square root of five. That's (sqrt(5)+1)/2, if you'd rather see it in formula. This tidbit of knowledge was courtesy of my Algorithms professor. Kudos to him.

Wishing you well a very pleasent weekend, golden fairwells.

ArabianShark now leaves to pack. Yay, away for the weekend!

The Big Oh

As it seems, the Big Oh will be a subject of study for one of my courses this semester. I'll be looking at a lot of Big Ohs and having some Big Ohs myself. I'll also have plenty of Big Ohs to spread around, if you'd like some. Now that I might have your attention, to further explain.

The Big Oh in question is, as you no doubt have guessed by now, not pleasurable sensation. It is a method of gauging an algorithm's complexity by counting the number of arithmetic operations (hence the Oh) it performs and merely stating that it is less than some other number (hence the Big). Shame...

Speaking of movies...

It had been quite the while since I had gone to the movies. Today I saw Munich. Even though it's a bit early in 2006 to be saying this, I'd boldly state it's a strong candidate to best movie of the year. I really think it's going to be hard to top it. Something in the imagery, apart from the blood and gore in the more brutal scenes, was quite reminescent of Saving private Ryan, which shuould come as no surprise, seeing as they are both directed by Steven Spielberg and set in similar moods. Eric Bana, with whom I was slightly disappointed after Hulk came back with a vengeance and a stunning performance.

Noteworthy as well was the music of John Williams, who had already proven his outstanding skill in Star Wars. The music for this film, although entirely different, was masterfully composed, especially the track for the final scene, in which shots of lovemaking are alternated withthose of gruesome slaughter.

The violence portrayed could be considered exagerated, but hardly excessive. Make no mistake, killings abound in this film, yet there is hardly any or no gratuitous violence at all. Hardly a movie for the faint of heart, at any rate. I remember being upset by the very horrible scene at Omaha Beach in Saving private Ryan and some scenes resemble that, yet aren't quite as strong.

On the comic side, I have no idea what came over the movie-going people around me today. The "comedy", if you will, started soon enough as a couple thought i was in their rights to take three seats: one for each of them plus one for their bag. Their lap or the floor between their legs couldn't possibly be good enough for an ordinary, plastic, shopping bag. Evidentely enough, that was my seat. Gladly, that was solved easily enough, as a mere "excuse me" beckoned them to free the extra chair. Very shortly after two ladies entered the room and found their seats also occupied... by the same couple. Turned out they weren't sitting anywhere near their designated seats. What was that all about? The seat numbers are printed on the ticket in large print, larger than that of the movie title. Just as they got up to take their seats, half of the people already in the room did the same. I've heard of some unwritten rule according to which, if a seat is empty by the end of the first half of the movie, you're free to take it, but the movie hadn't even started... how odd.

Lastly, I'm greatly expecting Memoirs of a Geisha, which I'm fairly certain has already premiered in several theaters near you, but not near me. I remember reading the book over five years ago and loving every single line of it. With the movie the book has gone to print again with Ziyi Zhang on the cover in full white make-up with bright red lips. ( Image from'm assuming that's not her real eye colour. At any rate, I wonder how accurate an interpretation of Arthur Golden's words it is. I can think of at least one pair of blue eyes a shade closer to what I suppose Golden meant... and, to the best of my knowledge, they're real (you'd think one would nearly always mean breasts when using this phrase whenever a woman's anatomy is concerned... guess again). Nevertheless, I await it eagrly.

Animated, coloured and CG ridden farewells with plenty of special efects... and a mildly interesting plot.

ArabianShark would very much like to see one of his works of fiction made into a screenplay and a movie sometime. Any volunteers?

Cleansing Flames

February, at last. From the Latin word "februare", meaning to burn, this is the time we no longer glance at our past while gazing into the future, but shed and burn all the wrong done unto ourselves (and by ourselves, lets not forget...). 2005 had some good times, which we should only hope to remember always, and some bad times, of which we should all let go now. In four weeks time we should have reburked it all and be truly ready to live out the rest of our lives... ideally. Of course, there's always someone who thought that God-awful embariasing moment we'd rather forget altogeather was the funniest thing since Monty Python (don't like Monty Python? Really!? Well, then... Jerry Sinefeld? Still no? Figure it out yourself then!) and won't ever let us forget. Or, on the serious track again, some scar of wounds never truly closed. Still, this is the time to take heart and believe all will be better from now on. Happy thoughts!

Mellow farewells.

ArabianShark wonders how in blazes he's going to light up a fire to burn his bad memories in underwater. Any thoughts?