Personal Blogs

In any game, worth playing, that I've ever played there is a moment when the big think is needed. Indeed, when it comes to chess and the maybe protegee it's a vital tell—do they have it when the game is still in the balance, or after it has been lost?

I think that, OU-wise, the time has come for me to have my big think.

Paint it how you may, my third-level maths performance has been sub-woeful. Why? I think it comes down to simple feckless idleness on my part.

I understand maths when I'm doing it, it's just that I can't seem to do it under any type of pressure. I panic and flap, my mind goes into underdrive, I get basic things wrong.

Over the last few days my exam performance has been unravelling in my head; that question about the order of a centre of a group? Oops missed out an order, oops it was the order of the quotient group that mattered, oops, of course centres are normal [as they are Abelian]. Oops, five marks become one.

So should I change my degree? Not sure that's possible, what with all the change that's going on around here and do I want to? I didn't start out to do this because I need a degree, good or otherwise, this is me in piss-around mode. The problem baldly stated is: I assumed that I was cleverer than I am.

So we continue along the planned route.

And after we have walked that part of life?

Firstly we stop referring to me as we and we finish that bloody solitaire project that has been hanging around inside your head for so many years...

But I've been playing a wee bit of online Go...

I'm a basket case.

As ever I walked to and from my exam, which this time was a wee way; I reckon about eight miles (round trip), perhaps more.

The Hibees ground: Easter road, I haven't been there in a while, it's changed a bit. We were in the West stand where there was a good view of the pitch, but felt too hot. Still, it was plush enough. If I had a gripe it was that, obviously hired [as a janny who hires-out] examination desks were on the small side; I had to store various bits-and-bobs on the floor.

I was the only one doing M336, so I was the only one who failed last time, which I'm not sure whether to be happy or sad about.

On my right were geologists, who had a wee bag of rocks to open; on my left were M263ers, which piqued my interest as it is a course that I've done myself, I'd have liked to know what they thought. But after the exam I could muster neither the energy nor the courage to ask any of them about it.

The exam, for me, started shakily, literally. Despite making sure, I thought, that I had lots of blood sugar, the walk and the adreneline-kick made me shake badly. I made this worse by heading for a question that, although I knew that I could do it required some accuracy. I wasted about twenty minutes before I gave it up as a bad job.

Fortunately by this time the lemonade was kicking in. Yup that's right I've changed my drink; I'm going for high-sugar. I think this worked.

By this time we were about thirty minutes in, the shakes had stopped and I had gotten into the groove. I did about seven of the part I questions pretty quickly. Enthused I tackled my two group theory questions; the first was OK, the second asked something that I had not jot one of a clue about for the b). So I went back to the question that I'd tackled first, this time I saw what was required and did most of the question well, I think.

Now I had about forty-five minutes to go [did I mention that the clocks were visible from anywhere?] so I tackled a couple of question where I could make a good guess about the structure of the answer.

Now I had fifteen minutes left. So I tackled the lattice question.

What I didn't do was to make a diagram. Five marks a-begging, I will get none. If five marks are important I will kill the hat that I don't have lest I eat it.

You walk home the, three-or-so miles with, regrets in your head. In fact there was a moment where some street-performer seemed to have arranged some group of tourists to cheer passers-by when people walked past. He must have been disappointed by my utter unreaction because I heard him doing it again. And such things amuse only a certain amount of times.

Tomorrow the numbers and similar woes.

My B minion is going to have the day of his life; his entire day will consist of providing me with a number of random numbers between intervals that I will provide. I will do all the jobs that we have to do, solo, to make me think about the numbers he gave me.

Does this sound mad? Well it doesn't seem so to me; Thurzday/Friday many of the questions will be mainly this.

I think that I'm close to getting fairly rubbish passes, which is about all that I can aim for .

<h2 id="not_finished">2013&ndash;06&ndash;08</h2>

<h3>not finished</h3>

<p>I didn&rsquo;t pass the exam, so months later, I&rsquo;m back doing the groups again. Which might not be too bad a thing&mdash;I may be learning something. Something about myself <em>and</em> maths.</p>

<p>For the last few weeks I&rsquo;ve been dipping my mental-toes into groups again, I&rsquo;ve even done a wee bit of the geometry, hateful as it is, so that I can garner any low-hanging marks that might be gotten in the exam.</p>

<p>I had something of an epithany yesterday&mdash;I could read the handbook. Funny that I hadn&rsquo;t thought of that before; perhaps there are other things that I should have done, like watch the videos, listen to the tapes or peruse the books that lie unregaded upon the bedroom floor? Maybe I should talk to my tutor? Go to the tutorials?</p>

<p>It, this epithany about the handbook, was something of an eye-opener, all those things that didn&rsquo;t quite gel suddenly started to make [a bit-of] sense. For example: I must have known that the kernal of a homomorphism was a normal sub-group but let&rsquo;s just say that it wasn&rsquo;t at the forefront of my mind.</p>

<p>Once I knew this was a fact known to others it took me about five minutes to prove it from the morphism property&hellip;</p>

<p>&hellip;I wonder what else I know that I don&rsquo;t properly remember?</p>

<p>Somewhere I wrote about my <a href="http://neilanderson.freehostia.com/thoughts/degree/m338_336/#blues">group theory blues</a> the thoughts have&rsquo;t changed it is just that I might have. The dub theory of the blues? Same backing number, wrong singer.</p>

And your ability to describe, in some media, how you saw the things that you see'd.

Let's settle for words as our media, shall we? And let us take a very basic base case:

How did it feel the first time you realized that another person was attracted to you? Can you describe that feeling?

My guess is that you can remember, my guess is that you can describe that feeling, my guess is that you won't describe that feeling, my guess is that you don't like thinking about this.

• rice crumb
• soya mince
• 2 X mozarella - they're in the fridge don't forget them
• mung beans
• Corn Silk, the make-up
• gluten-free oatcakes
• lots of parsley and basil, of the type that has a pot, and looks like a real plant when you are drunk in a supermarket

How the hell am I going to be able to carry this stuff home?

My personal perfect job appeared in my work in-box today, a secondment opportunity. A secondment opportunity for someone who would assist, in a strangely non-defined fashion, to improve my council's web site.

It is two grades up on the pay scale and a chance to climb on a different ladder. If I got this secondment my life would change hugely; and the council's web site would bet better.

That won't happen, I have hurdles:

• I need my line manager's permission; and I am fer favourite blame boy, I would be missed
• Secondments are always a carve up—someone is a shoe in already

So I won't get this job, despite it being exactly me—I have a certifificate of web application deveopment. Jings, I am doing a maths and comuting degree.

I designed and built, and webmastered the best school site in the world. [Check it out].

Nothing that I do or achieve matters, why?

Today I submitted my final maths TMA of the degree. Whatever the results there will never be an other degree maths-TMA.

Apart from one question, I think that it was one of my better efforts. Which is immaterial, as it is what I feel that matters to me, here, now. In three weeks or so, when I've sat the exams, then pass or fail, there is no need for me to do any more sums.

For five years maths has been a large part of my life. I didn't mean maths to be part of my life; it is computers, or more accurately computing, that I wanted to study. So why did I do maths?

Because it didn't matter at the start of my degree: I could change direction if I didn't like maths, and it was still points to the end. And I knew that a certain knowledge of maths was going to help me. But by stages maths crept closer into the heart of my brain.

One particular moment stands out in that process. My tutor, Allan, showed to us, intro MS221ers, a brilliant proof about fibs [Fibonacci series], I can't remember the details but I remember being blown away. This was something that I wanted! To prove something that way...

Perhaps the greatest reason that maths matters to me and my head is that I met great friends on the journey.

I don't know how it is for you but for me it is only on the maths courses that I've met people that I love. People that I can sit in the pub with, people who I can vehemently argue with without them bearing a grudge, people who share my madness.

The problem is that me head doesn't dance to the beat of the maths drum; I've found it incrementaly more difficult to do maths, whilst finding it easier and eisier to do computing...

Been here before <sigh />

More maths then. <grin />

2013–05–17

lax

I haven’t updated this blog lately, because I was busy, because I was tired, basically because I couldn’t be bothered. I hate that about me; this, “when things get hard I’ll flee” a rational for my behavioural laziness. Why is it that when I need to do stuff I end up doing doing squat?

I’m hard on myself because I know that I’m I a skivving loser who has just enough savvy to get away with it, which is OK in your daily, rather less satisfying when you actually want something.

That’s enough about me and my weak horrors; I have larger matters on my mind.

I sense a disruption in the force—people are dropping out because they can no longer afford courses. This is crass; this university of ours was meant to be for anyone, now it’s just another greedy red-brick: you give me money…I’ll give you a degree. [And a massive debt]

The opportunity to learn isn’t something that should be treated like a commodity, and yet it is. Like oil, or mortgages, or just about anything that they can get away with; the rich are cornering this market—you can be as clever as you want but if you can’t pay then you are stupider than the most stupid of their stupid offspring.

so what to do?

Well I was rather taken with the treatment meted out to the racist-stupidarian Nigel Farage in Edinburgh yesterday, personal-charm doesn’t excuse a blatent racist agenda. Such a thing is not popular in Scotland. Every single one of us knows somebody who is obviously Scottish who doesn’t think/look like us, the vast majority of us see this as a good thing. Pro or anti, we all know that we are all in this together and if you are here you have a vote.

I don’t like this way of doing politics but Farage opened himself up to this, and to complain that the complainers were Fascist was moronic. Stupid man. Stupid us for treating him as anything other that a complete… git? No, Evil bastard who mocks the police but feels entitled to call them when things go wrong. A shit of the deepest water.

My point is that Farage will have to think more carefully the next time he spouts his carefully impersonal hate at a non-defined non-voting hate group. Now that he realizes that hate is catching and that he may be a target he may think twice next time. I doubt it. The frothing stupidity of his reaction speaks volumes.

I suppose that what I am saying is that the time has come to put aside our manners, the time has come to shout the truth, as the Edinburgh students shouted, “evil racist baw-bag ”.

The time has come for our words to be heard by those who will not listen.

and several hours of my precious time to prove that 7 + 2 ≠ 10, or thereabouts.

Time and effort well spent methinks; I can now prove that any n + m ≠ k, when n + m ≠ k; ah! can I?

There may be interpretations where...you never got that sentances/theorems stuff did you neil... ?

Does 7 + 2 = 10? In some ring, space, domain or field?

No you are OK, if Q holds for an interpretation and you prove something using the sentances, then anything you prove holds for that interpretation.

But maybe not for an other interpretation where Q holds?

This is how maths fucks with your head; and why it is important to me to do it.

Today I experienced a strange moment, the first person for whom I definatively remember their first day of school had her last day of school.

I remember Eilidh because her sister Emma was one of my chess players, I knew her mother and father quite well. So I was interested in the arrival of her wee sister, so I remember Eilidh and her first day. Yesterday was her last day at Boroughmuir.

The sixth year were getting fractious and exams were going on so I was out-and-about doing crowd control when I saw her.

"So Eilidh, last day of school?" I could see that she had been crying.

"You won't remember it but I remember your first day at school."

She smiled, "Yeh, you were the janny at Craiglockhart, I remember you, my sister used to be in your chess club..."

We were swept apart by the swirling mess that is a sixth year's leaving.

The whole thing made me feel old and happy and sad at the same time. I watched someone's entire school journey. I don't suppose that it ever occured to Eilidh that I was watching, watching to see that she didn't fall. Like I do for them all.

At some point everyone who studies number theory is going to come across the following body text in a maths book...

it is impossible to separate a cube into two cubes, or a fourth power into two fourth powers, or in general, any power higher than the second, into two like powers. I have discovered a truly marvelous proof of this, which this margin is too narrow to contain

Fermat's last theorem. It has spawned generations of research in number theory.

The question is, what to write in the margin?

Diophantines. Tonight.

Maths has been getting to be a bit of a stretch for me for a while now and M381 will maybe, probably, be my last maths course.

[Although I feel a bit contractually bound to doing M209 because of my mate Chris. Actually I will have to have a look at the dark side sometime, and feeling that I am doing it for Chris will help.]

This has been hard for me, this being the OU stuff. A lot of it has come easy—computer stuff, a lot of it has been challenging—early maths stuff, lately maths has been a batcrap crazy madness that makes you feel that you are climbing down a wall with weights tied onto your head; weights that float.

But there are times; like tonight. Tonight when I began to see a structure in numbers that I wouldn't have see without the work I've put in. I'm still scrabbling at the harling, of the wall, of the building, that is part of, the maths complex.

Today I saw something that Fermat saw, and I saw it without a prompt. Doesn't matter that I was a horse lead to drink.

I saw it for myself. That matters.