Nader's Blog

Thursday, October 27, 2005


When I was finishing high school in the early 1970s, the closest normal people got to computers was using a teletype. These electromechanical monsters could convert bits received at glacially slow (110 baud) telephone rates into a veritable cacophany of sound. This acoustic din was produced by lots of metal parts slamming into a paper roll somewhere inside the machine. The paper was the same consistency and smoothness as the paper towels you find in restrooms, and the bit rate was caused partly by the constraints of the acoustic couplers used in those days. I probably still have
the pieces of the 300-baud modem I built out of two op-amps and two tennis shoes.
Computer Magazine, January 2005 (Vol. 38, No. 1)

Music Mood:
Noura Rahal - 3ala Fekra

Friday, October 14, 2005

Complexity: a 2-Dimensional Point of View

Some things are just too complex for words to explain, so silence would be a better option.
I always had complex thoughts to describe even the simplest small events. I like to build thoughts and combine them to form a conspiracy theory for each situation or incident.
Over years, this helped me to build complex feelings. People call it arrogance, but it is there.
Someone may come and ask a simple question as in "Why are not you in the mood?", or, "why sad?" , and I really feel like answering, but really can't find the right words.
What is "the mood" you are talking about ? I never had a mood and don't think I'll ever have one.
People can be angry or happy or sad. But I forget a lot. Forget as in FORGET. I forget why I am angry or sad. I don't remember anything. All I think of is how to integrate the new AI engine in our next project, or how to put the next agile modeling technique into practice. I feel everyone going for argeeleh (hubbly bubbly) or playing cards has nothing really to do in life. I know they are not,but still, that's what I feel.
Smoking is one thing that I disgrace and hate so bad, and I mean so MUCH. I feel that all smokers are people without inner peace. I hate to see people smoking or having argeeleh. It just makes me feel bad each time. Why is this the only thing the youth care for. Smoking and playing cards and girls, and don't let me start with the girls thing. Women ask for rights, but believe me they have it all. Women here have more power and influence more than any other place in the world, and I don't mean politics, cause actually no cares about politics anymore, I haven't even read a newspaper since a month now.
Ignorance is tightly integrated with complexity. Ignoring and forgetting everything that bothers you. You see something but you cannot describe or discuss your feelings about it, WHY? Because it is too complicated to be described. That makes you so silent, with nothing to talk about, nothing to say, nothing to share, and worse, no response to events, no negative feelings, no positive feelings, no neutral feelings, you become so empty, so boring, so FLAT. Yah, flat, 2-dimensional, like a carpet from a top-view, no , like a "super thread", zero height and zero thickness. Insignificant and just another one of a bunch.
You spend your time creating a complex set of feelings and interact with it within yourself, creating your own inner world , your inner community, become more and more silent, integrate yourself with silence.
Loose feelings towards the world, moon and stars no longer mean any thing, just lighting spots up there, u see the moon in 2-D, you no longer feel its circularity or roundness.
Feel like sleeping and forgetting and ignoring. Loosing Control of your inner-created-world.
I'm so silent lately, so boring, even I find myself boring, I feel like saying nothing, just imitate and build compound ideas. Ideas that never shows, cause it is buried inside.
I really need a hug, a simple one :)

Music Mood: - No Music Mood-

Monday, October 10, 2005

Peak Communications Capacity

You're sitting in yet another interminable conference session. Man, this chair gets more uncomfortable by the millisecond. Who's that over there? He looks like Mike Meyers from this angle. Or maybe Mini Me. What's that interminable droning sound? Oops, that's the speaker going on and on about … whatever his topic is. You can't remember—your mind has been wandering for the past 10 minutes.

You slide back into your reverie and idly wonder if it's true

that your memory gets worse as you age and whether there's anything to the folk wisdom that says you're okay as long as you can remember what you ate for dinner in the past week. I think I had grilled salmon a week ago. Or was it that you had to remember for 10 days? Uh oh, I can't quite recall. That can't be good.

But suddenly your attention is drawn back to the speaker, even though you can't quite put your finger on why. Something about his cadence, or pitch, or the way he paused and leaned away from the podium. You can just sense that he has momentarily diverged from his planned course and is about to extemporize.

If there's going to be anything memorable from this talk, it will be now, when the speaker is making remarks off the cuff. The earlier part of the talk could have been a prerecorded audio track, but this part is real, immediate, full-bandwidth. The speaker is operating at his peak communications capacity, and the audience senses that and reacts accordingly.

If you've ever attended a music recital by a particularly gifted artist, or a theatrical production in which the cast was having a great day, you've felt that same connection—a sense that there are higher planes of communication between human beings that we sometimes glimpse but don't often feel.

Comedians live or die by their ability to fully capture their audience's attention and take them on a shared journey. They use their humor like the boy in E.T. used Reese's Pieces to entice the alien to follow him; they bring the audience along line by line, laugh by laugh. And the audience pays them to do it, without even being rewarded with candy.

Bob Colwell (Computer Magazine, Sep 2005, At Random, Presentation Lessons from Comedians)

Music Mood: Mohammad Mounir - Ana Ba3shaq El-Ba7r