So yesterday I watched the new Doctor Who-episode (Who-pisode?).
I was quite excited for it, also because it had been promoted as being somewhat James Bond/Jason Bourne-like. It wasn't like that at all, though.
Seriously, the Doctor can't be like James Bond - the only character in the episodes I have watched so far that can make claims to being somewhat Bond-like would be Ian, the 30-something science teacher in a suit (but willing to dress in funkier outfits) and JFK-haircut who, together with Barbara and Susan, was one of the first companions back in the 1960s (I do have a bit of a weak spot for the Ian character).
But I quite liked the episode, apart from a few things I am all too willing to overlook. Except for Clara. I don't like this version of her. I liked her as soufflé-girl, and I liked her as Victorian Clara, but current-day Clara is just odd. She seemed to be trying too hard to be feisty but missing the actual spark to be feisty. A bit too-cute-to-be-true, in a sense (also, didn't she call him 'Doctor' before he'd properly introduced himself as such? Might have to re-watch).
Monsters in the WiFi, heck yes. Nicely done, too, with the Spoonheads and a creepy CEO-type lady.
Motorbike - why? He's got a bloody TARDIS. Seems a bit contrived and just a plot-thing to have the Doctor drive up the side of the Shard, which seemed slightly off. I watched it going "WHAT." in my best Tennant-imitation. Slightly deus ex machina - "You can't enter" "Well I can because this motor bike that I've been driving around because somehow I thought it wise to leave my TARDIS on the South Bank and that no one has ever seen before can suddenly defy gravity". Yeah No.
Seriously, that could've been done much more easily with the TARDIS, without having to stick in a deus ex motorbike - "Say Clara, let's have breakfast" "Did you just park the TARDIS on the pavement in the middle of London?" "Yes I did" "Awesome" - breakfast - "Oh No, I have to be in the Shard!" - TARDIS - "Hello creepy CEO lady".
But in general I liked the episode. Nice pacing (which is what has me screaming at my laptop about the early episodes - mainly going "seriously Ian, DO SOMETHING!"), nice baddies, nice TARDIS interior, nice purple coat (purple is cool).
I watched the episode expecting it to be part of a bigger whole, which is why I am willing to overlook things - if they bring back the motorbike for something that can't be done with the TARDIS later on in the series, I'll drop all my complaints about it.
The only thing I felt was truly missing was something of a transition between the Christmas special and this episode. I know the prequel is there, but it's not sufficient. Hope they'll come back to that later in the series also.
In general, therefore, nice opening for a new (half) series but only if the writers are willing to wrap up a big number of loose ends.
Very much looking forward to next episode, if only because 'Akhaten' reminds me of the name of pharaoh Akhenaten, which is cool because Akhenaten was not only the heretic king but also the father of Tutankhamun (who really isn't important but his treasures are still cool) and the spouse of Nefertiti - which is cool because we already saw Nefertiti in Dinosaurs on a Spaceship.
Besides, Akhaten seems to translate to something having to do with the solar-deity Aten (whom Akhenaten made the focus of his monotheistic religion) and pharaonic effectivenes, or something of the sort.
The summary on the BBC website says "The Doctor takes Clara to the Festival of Offerings, but the Old God is waking and demands sacrifice!". I've seen the preview and trailer, and there's definitely a fiery planet or even star in there, so that works too. Of course it's in space - but who's to say Akhenaten's religion didn't travel?
So, definitely something with Gods, and Festival of Offerings sounds quite like something that fits with the religions of the Egyptian and classical world. Cool. Fingers crossed that they're actually putting in allusions to Ancient Egypt, for that would forever solidify my fanship of Doctor Who. They've already done vampires and Napoleon, after all.
Sunday 31 March 2013
Saturday 30 March 2013
Time
Seeing as tonight sees the broadcast of a whole new Doctor Who episode, this might be the right moment to write about one of my greatest problems with the show: Time. And time travel. Especially the Earth-centricness.
I don't have any problems with space travel, mainly because space travel is just covering distance and whether covering a certain distance in little to no time passing at all might well be possible when technology improves. Sure, if one travels by coordinates - as the Doctor seems to be doing - one needs to be extremely specific in order not to land halfway in the ground somewhere, or stuck in a ceiling - one would need to know the exact location of every atom in the general area of where one would want to land (which, so I've been told, is one of Physics's major practical problems in making teleportation possible). But I'm sure the TARDIS is perfectly equipped for this, and there appears to be a Galactic Zero Centre (http://tardis.wikia.com/wiki/Galactic_centre), like our global coordinates are at 0 where the equator crosses the Greenwich meridian, just off the coast of Africa. Such a zero point is an agreed-upon point and so not an absolute, but can still be used to measure against and so base travel upon. There need to be no extremes known - you don't need to know the "end", just keep on counting. It does not even need to be a Galaxy-widely held convention, even if only the TARDIS would use such a zero point, it can be used for travel, as long as elevation or at least a third dimension is taken into account.
But Time. Time does not truly exist, does it, other than as a purely abstract idea to mark the duration of a sequence of events. Time, as a concept, is a human invention - the basic notion is the rotation of the Earth and the orbiting of the Earth around the Sun, nothing more. A day is the duration for one point - or line, the Greenwich meridian - to move from a specific location relative to the Earth's axis to that same location relative to the Earth's axis, or from Midnight to Midnight. But that's a modern invention, as for instance in the Ancient world, if I remember correctly, a full day lasted from sun up to sun up and so the duration of a day varied. But an agreed duration for a day is good, so humans could divide it by 24, and then by 60, and then by 60 again, and so forth, to find out hours and minutes and seconds and miliseconds. There wasn't even a unified time per country until railways demanded it, and then it still took a while for everyone - it took especially the French very long - to agree that time is to be derived from the Greenwich meridian.
A year is just the same, the number of days it takes to orbit around the Sun - 365.24... something, so we need a leap year every four years except some. To us, that is, because to the Ancient Egyptians a year was 360 days (12 months, 30 days per months, 3 weeks per month, 10 days per week) plus a festival of five days for the Gods, which fell outside the year.
And what is our zero for years? Some Pope decided that the birth of Christ was supposed to be zero, so he calculated zero, and still got it wrong, so that our calendar begins at a completely random point in time. Fair enough though if we can all agreed that that random point is zero, but then the Jewish are currently in the year 5773. And we can't even agree on the point when the year should begin - Midnight at the start of the 1st of January? Or later, in late January/early February, like the Chinese New Year? Roman New Year did not start until March, while Ancient Egyptian New Year was some time over summer.
Fine, so let's say the TARDIS travels by Gallifreyan time - one could presume that at least the Gallifreyans would agree on one time, some of them being Time Lords, after all.
Travelling forward in time should perhaps not be too difficult, if one can teleport or travel really really fast - something with time running slower than elsewhere, something Einstein, something relativity.
But travelling back in time should only be possible if each event, or each sequence of events, is stored in some dimension, and that time passing is just - I'm going fairly metaphysical here - our consciousness passing through those dimensions. A bit like our consciousnesses are watching a stop-motion film, but then they are part of that stop-motion film. I guess this could be possible with parallel universes etc., quantum physics and what not. Schroedinger's Cat and that.
Besides, time travel should only be possible if one can map time against something - but against what?
But perhaps I'm taking time too much as a linear thing and instead it is "a big ball of wibbly-wobbly timey-wimey... stuff".
Anyway. What I did realise is possible was what I realised yesterday as I was trying to fall asleep. Basically, we only see parts of the Doctor's adventures (most notably the Eleventh Doctor suddenly ages from 900-something to 1100-something over a series, and we don't really see what happens in the 200 years in between), so at any point in time, if the Doctor were real, we humans could meet just about every incarnation - a TARDIS could appear right here in the grad lounge and the First Doctor could come stepping out "hmm"-ing (or, more interestingly to me, the Tenth could step out brandishing the sonic screwdriver). Of course that would also mean (I haven't watched any episode yet in which the Doctor meets himself, so bear with me) that a Doctor with little to no hang-ups about crossing his own timeline could easily meet himself in an earlier (or even the same - but hang on, he did that more or less when Rose wanted to save her Dad) regeneration. I'd love for the First Doctor to meet the Eleventh and go all "hmm" and "my boy" and patronising and all that until the Eleventh points out that he is him but - hilariously - older.
What if time passed faster in the TARDIS (or any other other dimension) than it does in the outside world? It would explain why suddenly the Eleventh Doctor is 200 years older, for I doubt he'd travel without the Ponds for 200 years while the Ponds were still free. If one is used to a human pace, and time moves faster in another dimension, what would seem like a month could indeed easily be a year, or even two centuries.
It would also explain why some Doctors (especially the Tenth and Eleventh - I've yet to observe Two to Seven) seem a bit hyperactive compared to a human pace.
Sort of reversed relativity.
Perhaps it WOULD, in case of reversed relativity of time, be possible to travel back in time. Perhaps the pace of time inside the TARDIS can be altered so that travelling in time both ways is made possible. I don't know.
Hang on. Time goes faster on the inside than on the outside.
The TARDIS is Narnia.
That, or the Eleventh Doctor spent 200 years in Narnia.
Either one is cool.
Fascinating stuff, time. I just have difficulty grasping it - I do wish I hadn't dropped my science courses in secondary school. The upside of all this is that if time was a stop-motion film observed by our consciousnesses, I'd be totally right in believing there is no Truth and all there is, is our observed reality.
Physicists, do feel free to step in and answer my questions...
PS I love this: http://imagine.gsfc.nasa.gov/docs/ask_astro/answers/970401c.html. I'm quite terrible at the whole sine/cosine/tangent bit of mathemathics (only mathematics test I failed back when I was still good at maths), but let's ignore that bit. This bit: "The Earth is doing a lot more than rotating, although that is certainly the motion we notice most, because day follows night as a result. We also orbit the Sun once a year. The circumference of the Earth's orbit is about 940 million kilometers, so if you divide that by the hours in a year you will get our orbital speed in kilometers per hour. We are also moving with the Sun around the center of our galaxy and moving with our galaxy as it drifts through intergalactic space!". Pure Epic. Basically, it tells me that there should be four basic units of time on Earth: a day (rotation), an Earth year (orbit), a Galatic year (moving around the centre of the Galaxy) and an Intergalactic period (a distance in drifting through Intergalatic Space). Yes, I *am* ignoring time derived from atom clocks etc.. So basically, the TARDIS would not only have to have a sort of internal library of the positions of every atom - impressive enough to start with - but also of every atom's movement through time - and surely this must include 'paths not taken', i.e. unrealised futures and disregarded pasts.
Whoa. Time Lord technology must be truly awesome. No wonder the sonic screwdriver can do lots of things that seem like deus ex machina plot-tricks to us mere humans...
I don't have any problems with space travel, mainly because space travel is just covering distance and whether covering a certain distance in little to no time passing at all might well be possible when technology improves. Sure, if one travels by coordinates - as the Doctor seems to be doing - one needs to be extremely specific in order not to land halfway in the ground somewhere, or stuck in a ceiling - one would need to know the exact location of every atom in the general area of where one would want to land (which, so I've been told, is one of Physics's major practical problems in making teleportation possible). But I'm sure the TARDIS is perfectly equipped for this, and there appears to be a Galactic Zero Centre (http://tardis.wikia.com/wiki/Galactic_centre), like our global coordinates are at 0 where the equator crosses the Greenwich meridian, just off the coast of Africa. Such a zero point is an agreed-upon point and so not an absolute, but can still be used to measure against and so base travel upon. There need to be no extremes known - you don't need to know the "end", just keep on counting. It does not even need to be a Galaxy-widely held convention, even if only the TARDIS would use such a zero point, it can be used for travel, as long as elevation or at least a third dimension is taken into account.
But Time. Time does not truly exist, does it, other than as a purely abstract idea to mark the duration of a sequence of events. Time, as a concept, is a human invention - the basic notion is the rotation of the Earth and the orbiting of the Earth around the Sun, nothing more. A day is the duration for one point - or line, the Greenwich meridian - to move from a specific location relative to the Earth's axis to that same location relative to the Earth's axis, or from Midnight to Midnight. But that's a modern invention, as for instance in the Ancient world, if I remember correctly, a full day lasted from sun up to sun up and so the duration of a day varied. But an agreed duration for a day is good, so humans could divide it by 24, and then by 60, and then by 60 again, and so forth, to find out hours and minutes and seconds and miliseconds. There wasn't even a unified time per country until railways demanded it, and then it still took a while for everyone - it took especially the French very long - to agree that time is to be derived from the Greenwich meridian.
A year is just the same, the number of days it takes to orbit around the Sun - 365.24... something, so we need a leap year every four years except some. To us, that is, because to the Ancient Egyptians a year was 360 days (12 months, 30 days per months, 3 weeks per month, 10 days per week) plus a festival of five days for the Gods, which fell outside the year.
And what is our zero for years? Some Pope decided that the birth of Christ was supposed to be zero, so he calculated zero, and still got it wrong, so that our calendar begins at a completely random point in time. Fair enough though if we can all agreed that that random point is zero, but then the Jewish are currently in the year 5773. And we can't even agree on the point when the year should begin - Midnight at the start of the 1st of January? Or later, in late January/early February, like the Chinese New Year? Roman New Year did not start until March, while Ancient Egyptian New Year was some time over summer.
Fine, so let's say the TARDIS travels by Gallifreyan time - one could presume that at least the Gallifreyans would agree on one time, some of them being Time Lords, after all.
Travelling forward in time should perhaps not be too difficult, if one can teleport or travel really really fast - something with time running slower than elsewhere, something Einstein, something relativity.
But travelling back in time should only be possible if each event, or each sequence of events, is stored in some dimension, and that time passing is just - I'm going fairly metaphysical here - our consciousness passing through those dimensions. A bit like our consciousnesses are watching a stop-motion film, but then they are part of that stop-motion film. I guess this could be possible with parallel universes etc., quantum physics and what not. Schroedinger's Cat and that.
Besides, time travel should only be possible if one can map time against something - but against what?
But perhaps I'm taking time too much as a linear thing and instead it is "a big ball of wibbly-wobbly timey-wimey... stuff".
Anyway. What I did realise is possible was what I realised yesterday as I was trying to fall asleep. Basically, we only see parts of the Doctor's adventures (most notably the Eleventh Doctor suddenly ages from 900-something to 1100-something over a series, and we don't really see what happens in the 200 years in between), so at any point in time, if the Doctor were real, we humans could meet just about every incarnation - a TARDIS could appear right here in the grad lounge and the First Doctor could come stepping out "hmm"-ing (or, more interestingly to me, the Tenth could step out brandishing the sonic screwdriver). Of course that would also mean (I haven't watched any episode yet in which the Doctor meets himself, so bear with me) that a Doctor with little to no hang-ups about crossing his own timeline could easily meet himself in an earlier (or even the same - but hang on, he did that more or less when Rose wanted to save her Dad) regeneration. I'd love for the First Doctor to meet the Eleventh and go all "hmm" and "my boy" and patronising and all that until the Eleventh points out that he is him but - hilariously - older.
What if time passed faster in the TARDIS (or any other other dimension) than it does in the outside world? It would explain why suddenly the Eleventh Doctor is 200 years older, for I doubt he'd travel without the Ponds for 200 years while the Ponds were still free. If one is used to a human pace, and time moves faster in another dimension, what would seem like a month could indeed easily be a year, or even two centuries.
It would also explain why some Doctors (especially the Tenth and Eleventh - I've yet to observe Two to Seven) seem a bit hyperactive compared to a human pace.
Sort of reversed relativity.
Perhaps it WOULD, in case of reversed relativity of time, be possible to travel back in time. Perhaps the pace of time inside the TARDIS can be altered so that travelling in time both ways is made possible. I don't know.
Hang on. Time goes faster on the inside than on the outside.
The TARDIS is Narnia.
That, or the Eleventh Doctor spent 200 years in Narnia.
Either one is cool.
Fascinating stuff, time. I just have difficulty grasping it - I do wish I hadn't dropped my science courses in secondary school. The upside of all this is that if time was a stop-motion film observed by our consciousnesses, I'd be totally right in believing there is no Truth and all there is, is our observed reality.
Physicists, do feel free to step in and answer my questions...
PS I love this: http://imagine.gsfc.nasa.gov/docs/ask_astro/answers/970401c.html. I'm quite terrible at the whole sine/cosine/tangent bit of mathemathics (only mathematics test I failed back when I was still good at maths), but let's ignore that bit. This bit: "The Earth is doing a lot more than rotating, although that is certainly the motion we notice most, because day follows night as a result. We also orbit the Sun once a year. The circumference of the Earth's orbit is about 940 million kilometers, so if you divide that by the hours in a year you will get our orbital speed in kilometers per hour. We are also moving with the Sun around the center of our galaxy and moving with our galaxy as it drifts through intergalactic space!". Pure Epic. Basically, it tells me that there should be four basic units of time on Earth: a day (rotation), an Earth year (orbit), a Galatic year (moving around the centre of the Galaxy) and an Intergalactic period (a distance in drifting through Intergalatic Space). Yes, I *am* ignoring time derived from atom clocks etc.. So basically, the TARDIS would not only have to have a sort of internal library of the positions of every atom - impressive enough to start with - but also of every atom's movement through time - and surely this must include 'paths not taken', i.e. unrealised futures and disregarded pasts.
Whoa. Time Lord technology must be truly awesome. No wonder the sonic screwdriver can do lots of things that seem like deus ex machina plot-tricks to us mere humans...
Friday 29 March 2013
Applications (part #whatever)
It was sunny when I woke up. At 7.
I woke up that early because I'd intended to complete some of the final bits of my PhD application for Leicester and seeing as MyFiles (the thing that allows Leicester students to access their documents on their uni accounts from pretty much everywhere - I LOVE IT) has been offline since about 3pm yesterday afternoon, I figured I'd go to the Library.
That is, until I remembered it's Good Friday, and though our Library rarely closes, I figured I should check.
Anndddd the Library is closed today.
So there I was, frustrated that I couldn't access my uni account, where I store digital copies of my important files, such as my transcripts and degree certificates etc. from home, and frustrated that there's no other way for me to access it either.
I went back to sleep.
I woke up again at about 11, when it was bright grey outside, and figured I'd try again.
Nothing.
I did my usual round on the Internet - NRC, Volkskrant, Guardian, FML, DearBlankPleaseBlank, 9Gag, and had some facebook chats - and then suddenly I had a bright moment.
Maybe some scans were still stored in my email bin? I hardly ever empty that one anyway...
Lo and behold, I found my TOEFL scan. And, what's also important, I found out I still had .jpg scans of my undergraduate transcript and degree certificate hidden on my computer somewhere. I do prefer .pdf, but if it works it works.
Those happen to be my key files. Anything else - Leicester transcript (they know my grades anyway, though), passport copy (I'm an EU citizen, don't need visa), etc. - is not thát important and can be sent tomorrow when I finish my formal research proposal (basically, dot my Is), when the Library is open again.
Fingers crossed now. I'm terrified. But happy.
Thursday 28 March 2013
New Things
As I was cycling downhill to the city centre earlier today, I gazed upon the hills on the other side of the Soar valley. There was still residual snow there, and it looked positively alpine, also because the sun illuminated parts of it. It was pretty.
Furthermore got myself a new pair of Converse, as my old pink ones really aren't suitable for wearing out in public any more (which is why I haven't really worn them in ages) and I also do like Converse for walking around, as they're very comfortable - I'll have to do lots of walking around soon. I always get High-Tops because I have fairly weak ankles and these sort of support them.
And a new purse, since the last one I bought isn't holding up very well and I'm fed up with my little purses, which only hold my wallet and keys.
Here's a pic:
Furthermore got myself a new pair of Converse, as my old pink ones really aren't suitable for wearing out in public any more (which is why I haven't really worn them in ages) and I also do like Converse for walking around, as they're very comfortable - I'll have to do lots of walking around soon. I always get High-Tops because I have fairly weak ankles and these sort of support them.
And a new purse, since the last one I bought isn't holding up very well and I'm fed up with my little purses, which only hold my wallet and keys.
Here's a pic:
Boring (and I like it!)
(Warning: don't take stuff too seriously. Also don't confuse liking boring things with being a boring person)
So much for the melodrama - I feel much better now, thanks.
My congestion cleared up pretty much in sync with my cough, so I'm happily spared the dry cough. Nevertheless, I still asked my dad to bring over noscapine. Just in case.
I seem to have most of my hearing back, too, which is good.
Finally, I stopped feeling hopeless about my future. I'd hit a bit of a low point with my last post, I presume, but now I remember that there's always, somehow, a way. I probably just get a bit melodramatic over set-backs because I'm not actually used to them. In fact, the biggest set-backs I've experienced so far include a uni rejection, a job rejection ('a', as in a grand total of one), a funding rejection, and not always getting what I wanted when I wanted it - but, with regards to the last thing, I often did end up with a version of what I wanted later on, so those aren't truly set-backs. If that's the sum of all my set-backs, I should count myself lucky and I usually do, but it's so easy to forget sometimes.
That's also why I'm terrible at telling anecdotes - I don't really have any good stories in which everything goes wrong. I didn't even get seasick during the Cruise of Horror last year and "so yeah, I ended up fetching water for everyone and pouring it over their faces" doesn't do much in terms of heroism either. I'm really much better at telling fairy tales, which my dad will surely attest to.
I attended one of the lectures in the Scarman Lecture Series here in Leicester today, and it was on being a police researcher and, more importantly, about the ethics and authenticity of that type of ethnographic research. I love ethnographic research, it's got such a feeling of adventure to it, but that's not the point - during the Q&A at the end, it was mentioned that in lots of ethnographic research things, the more salient bits are pointed out while the boring bits are... 'left on the cutting room floor' (my interpretation plus editing reference). It got me thinking - what bits of my life should be left on the cutting room floor? As said, I don't have any good anecdotes, no grand extraordinary tales, no 'remember that time when's.
Oh, I have that one time that I thought I was locked in an alley in Oxford for about three minutes once.
And that's wildly comforting. I'm jumping the right hoops, I'm not deviating too much either way, and so while I may not have anything super-exciting to say, at least I won't also have to be scared of everything going wrong.
I like boring. I like the minutiae of corporate crime and tax evasion and all that. Boring is just really my thing.
Gee, I must've been such an easy child...
So much for the melodrama - I feel much better now, thanks.
My congestion cleared up pretty much in sync with my cough, so I'm happily spared the dry cough. Nevertheless, I still asked my dad to bring over noscapine. Just in case.
I seem to have most of my hearing back, too, which is good.
Finally, I stopped feeling hopeless about my future. I'd hit a bit of a low point with my last post, I presume, but now I remember that there's always, somehow, a way. I probably just get a bit melodramatic over set-backs because I'm not actually used to them. In fact, the biggest set-backs I've experienced so far include a uni rejection, a job rejection ('a', as in a grand total of one), a funding rejection, and not always getting what I wanted when I wanted it - but, with regards to the last thing, I often did end up with a version of what I wanted later on, so those aren't truly set-backs. If that's the sum of all my set-backs, I should count myself lucky and I usually do, but it's so easy to forget sometimes.
That's also why I'm terrible at telling anecdotes - I don't really have any good stories in which everything goes wrong. I didn't even get seasick during the Cruise of Horror last year and "so yeah, I ended up fetching water for everyone and pouring it over their faces" doesn't do much in terms of heroism either. I'm really much better at telling fairy tales, which my dad will surely attest to.
I attended one of the lectures in the Scarman Lecture Series here in Leicester today, and it was on being a police researcher and, more importantly, about the ethics and authenticity of that type of ethnographic research. I love ethnographic research, it's got such a feeling of adventure to it, but that's not the point - during the Q&A at the end, it was mentioned that in lots of ethnographic research things, the more salient bits are pointed out while the boring bits are... 'left on the cutting room floor' (my interpretation plus editing reference). It got me thinking - what bits of my life should be left on the cutting room floor? As said, I don't have any good anecdotes, no grand extraordinary tales, no 'remember that time when's.
Oh, I have that one time that I thought I was locked in an alley in Oxford for about three minutes once.
And that's wildly comforting. I'm jumping the right hoops, I'm not deviating too much either way, and so while I may not have anything super-exciting to say, at least I won't also have to be scared of everything going wrong.
I like boring. I like the minutiae of corporate crime and tax evasion and all that. Boring is just really my thing.
Gee, I must've been such an easy child...
Monday 25 March 2013
Scared
I'm scared of the What-Ifs.
What If... I can't do a PhD next year?
What If... I'll have to move back to the Netherlands?
What If... I then still can't get a job?
What If... I can get a job but it's for 10 hours a week at a local shop?
What If... I'll be stuck in dead-end jobs for the rest of my life and will thus have wasted time on getting a BA and an MSc?
I was getting a little more optimistic about the economy lately, that is, until they pulled the Cyprus-plug.
I really do want to stay in the UK and I really do want to get a job in academia - anything is fine by me, though if at all possible I'd really like to be a teacher or researcher - but I'm afraid that going by the way things are now, I should not have too many hopes.
But let's trudge on. Next week might be different.
What If... I can't do a PhD next year?
What If... I'll have to move back to the Netherlands?
What If... I then still can't get a job?
What If... I can get a job but it's for 10 hours a week at a local shop?
What If... I'll be stuck in dead-end jobs for the rest of my life and will thus have wasted time on getting a BA and an MSc?
I was getting a little more optimistic about the economy lately, that is, until they pulled the Cyprus-plug.
I really do want to stay in the UK and I really do want to get a job in academia - anything is fine by me, though if at all possible I'd really like to be a teacher or researcher - but I'm afraid that going by the way things are now, I should not have too many hopes.
But let's trudge on. Next week might be different.
Friday 22 March 2013
When god closes a door, somewhere he opens a window
It's 11:22 and I've been watching Doctor Who again, but this time while enjoying a tub of Ben & Jerry's cookie dough (because Sainsbury's had the brilliant sense of timing to have half off on Ben & Jerry's today).
And I've been re-reading the Cardiff says no email.
I don't think Cardiff said no to me. Not precisely, at least. And they're academics, so you should sort of expect them to be precise.
What they said to me was that my ESRC funding application has - well, not been rejected, but not short-listed.
Also my Cardiff application page doesn't say anything, it still says a decision will be made in 4 weeks after receipt.
Of course, rejecting my ESRC funding application still more or less kills my Cardiff application, but that's more because of personal finances, not because I'm not ticking all the boxes - because I *am* ticking all the boxes, or at least I should be.
I haven't received an official email from the Registry yet, perhaps the Registry email will hold the definite 'NO', but as of now I still have hope for an unaffordable 'yes'.
We'll see what happens. I could always try to get a job (don't laugh, I'm sure I'd be reasonably good at a real job!).
Ah, the uncertainty of applications. I'm just not patient enough for the whole process. I guess that's what scares me most - not having anything to do next year. Then what do I do? Get a job, a flat, a car and a cat? Can I actually get a job in this economy? I can't stay with my parents for too long, we'll all annoy the living daylights out of one another (I love them to pieces, but we're all way too stubborn). I need to do something next year. If this isn't the definite Cardiff no, and Cardiff ends up saying yes, and no other place says yes, I guess I'll just try and scrape things together... There's always a way.
Except that I need to know my limits, as I've been told in the past. Do limits exist, though? Are there such things? I don't know, but it seems I'll be finding out soon enough...
And I've been re-reading the Cardiff says no email.
I don't think Cardiff said no to me. Not precisely, at least. And they're academics, so you should sort of expect them to be precise.
What they said to me was that my ESRC funding application has - well, not been rejected, but not short-listed.
Also my Cardiff application page doesn't say anything, it still says a decision will be made in 4 weeks after receipt.
Of course, rejecting my ESRC funding application still more or less kills my Cardiff application, but that's more because of personal finances, not because I'm not ticking all the boxes - because I *am* ticking all the boxes, or at least I should be.
I haven't received an official email from the Registry yet, perhaps the Registry email will hold the definite 'NO', but as of now I still have hope for an unaffordable 'yes'.
We'll see what happens. I could always try to get a job (don't laugh, I'm sure I'd be reasonably good at a real job!).
Ah, the uncertainty of applications. I'm just not patient enough for the whole process. I guess that's what scares me most - not having anything to do next year. Then what do I do? Get a job, a flat, a car and a cat? Can I actually get a job in this economy? I can't stay with my parents for too long, we'll all annoy the living daylights out of one another (I love them to pieces, but we're all way too stubborn). I need to do something next year. If this isn't the definite Cardiff no, and Cardiff ends up saying yes, and no other place says yes, I guess I'll just try and scrape things together... There's always a way.
Except that I need to know my limits, as I've been told in the past. Do limits exist, though? Are there such things? I don't know, but it seems I'll be finding out soon enough...
This is not the answer you're looking for
I got my Cardiff email.
It said 'no'.
Well, actually it said 'unfortunately your application was not one of those short-listed for interview' and then a bunch of apologies about how this year's competition was very strong etc., the usual set of euphemisms for saying 'haha, your application wasn't good enough!'.
I'm not sure yet how I feel about it, though I do feel a bit sad that I now no longer have a valid excuse to spend 50 pounds on a return ticket for the train to Cardiff and visit the Doctor Who experience. In any case I'm not nearly as disappointed as I was last year when Cambridge rejected me, though I must say I think Cambridge may have had much more valid reasons.
Because I'm now wondering what went wrong. After all, I do feel my credentials are quite strong - my secondary school grades are good (two 9s, in English and Literature, a whole set of 8s, some 7s and one 6 for Latin), as are my undergraduate grades (they more or less equate to a First, according to Fulbright - in any case it's a definite and strong First if one disregards my C+ in Calculus, and a) are there Criminologists who need advanced Calculus? and b) I think my C+ in Calculus should actually make my grades stronger even though it brough my GPA down by a tenth). I'm heading towards a Merit or a Distinction in my postgrad. I've got a load of cool extracurriculars, such as working in a court for one and a half years, chairing the Literature Commission, doing Ambassador things and being a Course Rep, plus I'm enrolled in the University of Leicester's Leadership and Management Award.
Besides, my research proposal has both been called 'interesting' and 'strong' by two different professors.
I did everything right in my personal statement.
Maybe they prefer people who don't have C+s in Calculus and who've already finished their Master's. I'm more or less annoyed, I think, just because they're taking away one of my options. As good as my back-up plan of heading back to the Netherlands and enrolling in a 2-year-LLB is, it's not something I'm desperately eager to do... But I still have my Leicester application.
What I will do now, though, is head to one of the second-hand charity bookshops on Queens Road and spend 20 pounds on a CS Lewis Narnia boxed book set.
Maybe I just shouldn't apply for universities in places that start with a 'C'.
PS On a completely unrelated upside, none of my belts fit properly anymore - they're all too long. Yay, losing weight/body mass.
PPS I just now sent in registration for the LLB in Utrecht. It makes me quite giddy, also because .... blaaah, Bachelor's degree all over again...
PPPS My awesome friend Kristy got a 'yes' from Oxford. I told her so. Also that's epic.
It said 'no'.
Well, actually it said 'unfortunately your application was not one of those short-listed for interview' and then a bunch of apologies about how this year's competition was very strong etc., the usual set of euphemisms for saying 'haha, your application wasn't good enough!'.
I'm not sure yet how I feel about it, though I do feel a bit sad that I now no longer have a valid excuse to spend 50 pounds on a return ticket for the train to Cardiff and visit the Doctor Who experience. In any case I'm not nearly as disappointed as I was last year when Cambridge rejected me, though I must say I think Cambridge may have had much more valid reasons.
Because I'm now wondering what went wrong. After all, I do feel my credentials are quite strong - my secondary school grades are good (two 9s, in English and Literature, a whole set of 8s, some 7s and one 6 for Latin), as are my undergraduate grades (they more or less equate to a First, according to Fulbright - in any case it's a definite and strong First if one disregards my C+ in Calculus, and a) are there Criminologists who need advanced Calculus? and b) I think my C+ in Calculus should actually make my grades stronger even though it brough my GPA down by a tenth). I'm heading towards a Merit or a Distinction in my postgrad. I've got a load of cool extracurriculars, such as working in a court for one and a half years, chairing the Literature Commission, doing Ambassador things and being a Course Rep, plus I'm enrolled in the University of Leicester's Leadership and Management Award.
Besides, my research proposal has both been called 'interesting' and 'strong' by two different professors.
I did everything right in my personal statement.
Maybe they prefer people who don't have C+s in Calculus and who've already finished their Master's. I'm more or less annoyed, I think, just because they're taking away one of my options. As good as my back-up plan of heading back to the Netherlands and enrolling in a 2-year-LLB is, it's not something I'm desperately eager to do... But I still have my Leicester application.
What I will do now, though, is head to one of the second-hand charity bookshops on Queens Road and spend 20 pounds on a CS Lewis Narnia boxed book set.
Maybe I just shouldn't apply for universities in places that start with a 'C'.
PS On a completely unrelated upside, none of my belts fit properly anymore - they're all too long. Yay, losing weight/body mass.
PPS I just now sent in registration for the LLB in Utrecht. It makes me quite giddy, also because .... blaaah, Bachelor's degree all over again...
PPPS My awesome friend Kristy got a 'yes' from Oxford. I told her so. Also that's epic.
Monday 18 March 2013
All Better
Well, I'm not entirely better yet, but well enough at least to do something again. So I didn't have the flu, that was the melodramatic bit, but I did have a serious fever day on Friday. Still have a cough and a very very congested head, and I very much do hope that that cough is the first thing to go because if the congestion goes first I'll end up with a dry cough. The thing I know works best for dry coughs is noscapine, which I don't think I can't get over the counter here because it's an opiate and I was already having the most difficult time trying to locate normal ibuprofen (so not liquid or fast-working or anything, just normal no-fuss ibuprofen) heavier than 200mg.
But so I feel mostly better again today, so mum, dad, no need to worry about me anymore, I'm fine.
I received comments from one of my professors here in Leicester about a research proposal for my PhD - I really want to research it now, not just have a fascinating topic to say "look, I've got a PhD-worthy idea!" but actually find out what's there - and it was really good commentary, as it had some really good points where I could improve but more importantly, points where I'd done things right. So I feel very encouraged now, and I'll definitely, definitely go on and submit an application here too.
The What-Ifs decided to haunt me again this weekend, so I made a back-up plan, a Plan C if you wish. It involves moving back to the Netherlands, getting a job - I can do both retail and administrative, so should be okay for a bit - and spending my time on a Law bachelor's at Utrecht, which I can finish in 2 years because I am exempt from a number of courses, and then in the meanwhile I can try again for PhD programmes until I find one that suits me and wants me. It never hurts to have an LLB.
It was foggy this morning, and then grey all day, but when I returned to Mary Gee there was a gorgeous bit of sunshine, and everything looked so much prettier. I suddenly noticed the daisies in the very, very green grass and snowdrops in the flowerbeds and how the croci and daffodils and all the trees are silently waiting to burst with colour.
Once, in my first year Rhetoric class, I had to write an Encomium and, seeing as it was about the same time of year as it is now, I did it on spring, because that's one of the best things about late February/March/April, when the sun comes out and all the plants blossom and everyone's happy. I couldn't compare spring to anything, however, so I refused to add a comparison, and I did receive a comment from my lecturer on that. I stand, however, by my refusal to compare spring to anything - what, truly, is comparable to the joy and hope contained in those moments where you suddenly notice that chill is finally about to fade from the air? George Harrison captured it very well in Here Comes the Sun, so I guess the feeling of spring is comparable to imagining the feeling of spring when listening to Here Comes the Sun, but that's like cheating at comparison, isn't it?
In fact, that must've been the same semester that I spent 6 out of 15 weeks with Here Comes the Sun stuck in my head. I'm surprised I'm not yet sick of it.
Except that the chill is not about to fade from the air. There's no snow predicted for Leicestershire for the next 10 days (praise whatever Deity you decided listens to you), but it will get cold again, about 4-5 Celsius. This annoys me, also because I've been really wanting to rock my new old tweed jacket and I still can't because I can't wear it under my coat - it's a man's jacket, it needs to be worn on its own - but mainly because I'm now truly sick (literally) and tired (also literally) of those long, long, long winter days.
But at least it now no longer gets dark at 4:30, now we've got daylight until about 6:15. It's something.
But so I feel mostly better again today, so mum, dad, no need to worry about me anymore, I'm fine.
I received comments from one of my professors here in Leicester about a research proposal for my PhD - I really want to research it now, not just have a fascinating topic to say "look, I've got a PhD-worthy idea!" but actually find out what's there - and it was really good commentary, as it had some really good points where I could improve but more importantly, points where I'd done things right. So I feel very encouraged now, and I'll definitely, definitely go on and submit an application here too.
The What-Ifs decided to haunt me again this weekend, so I made a back-up plan, a Plan C if you wish. It involves moving back to the Netherlands, getting a job - I can do both retail and administrative, so should be okay for a bit - and spending my time on a Law bachelor's at Utrecht, which I can finish in 2 years because I am exempt from a number of courses, and then in the meanwhile I can try again for PhD programmes until I find one that suits me and wants me. It never hurts to have an LLB.
It was foggy this morning, and then grey all day, but when I returned to Mary Gee there was a gorgeous bit of sunshine, and everything looked so much prettier. I suddenly noticed the daisies in the very, very green grass and snowdrops in the flowerbeds and how the croci and daffodils and all the trees are silently waiting to burst with colour.
Once, in my first year Rhetoric class, I had to write an Encomium and, seeing as it was about the same time of year as it is now, I did it on spring, because that's one of the best things about late February/March/April, when the sun comes out and all the plants blossom and everyone's happy. I couldn't compare spring to anything, however, so I refused to add a comparison, and I did receive a comment from my lecturer on that. I stand, however, by my refusal to compare spring to anything - what, truly, is comparable to the joy and hope contained in those moments where you suddenly notice that chill is finally about to fade from the air? George Harrison captured it very well in Here Comes the Sun, so I guess the feeling of spring is comparable to imagining the feeling of spring when listening to Here Comes the Sun, but that's like cheating at comparison, isn't it?
In fact, that must've been the same semester that I spent 6 out of 15 weeks with Here Comes the Sun stuck in my head. I'm surprised I'm not yet sick of it.
Except that the chill is not about to fade from the air. There's no snow predicted for Leicestershire for the next 10 days (praise whatever Deity you decided listens to you), but it will get cold again, about 4-5 Celsius. This annoys me, also because I've been really wanting to rock my new old tweed jacket and I still can't because I can't wear it under my coat - it's a man's jacket, it needs to be worn on its own - but mainly because I'm now truly sick (literally) and tired (also literally) of those long, long, long winter days.
But at least it now no longer gets dark at 4:30, now we've got daylight until about 6:15. It's something.
Saturday 16 March 2013
Foolishness
Sorry about all the illness posts, people, but since my parents are my most loyal readers, I guess I should keep them properly informed about me having the flu.
Plus, I get to be melodramatic.
I did something incredibly foolish today (and I'm sure I'll hear all about my foolishness soon)...
I went into the library, determined to finish a new draft of my research proposal (I'm also applying here in Leicester, after all, and they require a full research proposal), I snottered* my way there, picked up some methodological sources that I desperately needed and then sat down behind a computer to annoy a bearded hipster by blowing my nose every five minutes.
So far so good, until I went to the library café for an orange juice and a pepperoni panini. It was good to eat something - very good, actually - except that panini are toasted and so I had toasted crumbs tickling my throat, meaning I had a bit of a coughing fit.
Under the spiteful gaze of other customers I finally decided to take my sources and catch a bus home. I did, I finished the research proposal from the confines of my mint-green-coloured room (sixties buildings...), but next time I'll try to heed my mum's old advice to not go to school when you're ill, not even when you really, really need to.
Pinky swear, mum.
*Snottered is not a proper word. I don't care. It's my direct translation of snotteren, which means either blubbering or snivelling, but since blubbering is more like a very messy sort of toddler-like crying and snivelling feels very similar to sneering - probably the 'sn'-phonaestheme (HA! See, I remember stuff from LLADS), I feel that the only mot juste there is 'snottered'. It's the only proper way to express the - excuse the graphicness - snot being stuck in your head and your nose and it's dripping from every orifice and you're going through a six-pack of kleenex in a day. Basically, 'to snotter' is the only proper verb to capture in one word what it's like to have a cold.
Plus, I get to be melodramatic.
I did something incredibly foolish today (and I'm sure I'll hear all about my foolishness soon)...
I went into the library, determined to finish a new draft of my research proposal (I'm also applying here in Leicester, after all, and they require a full research proposal), I snottered* my way there, picked up some methodological sources that I desperately needed and then sat down behind a computer to annoy a bearded hipster by blowing my nose every five minutes.
So far so good, until I went to the library café for an orange juice and a pepperoni panini. It was good to eat something - very good, actually - except that panini are toasted and so I had toasted crumbs tickling my throat, meaning I had a bit of a coughing fit.
Under the spiteful gaze of other customers I finally decided to take my sources and catch a bus home. I did, I finished the research proposal from the confines of my mint-green-coloured room (sixties buildings...), but next time I'll try to heed my mum's old advice to not go to school when you're ill, not even when you really, really need to.
Pinky swear, mum.
*Snottered is not a proper word. I don't care. It's my direct translation of snotteren, which means either blubbering or snivelling, but since blubbering is more like a very messy sort of toddler-like crying and snivelling feels very similar to sneering - probably the 'sn'-phonaestheme (HA! See, I remember stuff from LLADS), I feel that the only mot juste there is 'snottered'. It's the only proper way to express the - excuse the graphicness - snot being stuck in your head and your nose and it's dripping from every orifice and you're going through a six-pack of kleenex in a day. Basically, 'to snotter' is the only proper verb to capture in one word what it's like to have a cold.
Friday 15 March 2013
Duvet cover
Okay, so I lied a tiny bit yesterday - I'm bothered by a tiny bit more than a cough - say head ache and tiredness. Still a normal common cold though, should be better in the morning, it's the normal pattern, one day properly ill and then back to normal.
The most peculiar thing though - whenever I'm not feeling well, I seem to be reminded of this duvet cover I used to have as a child. It was yellow - custard yellow - with thin white stripes on the one side, and white with custard yellow thin strips on the other side.
I wonder what happened to that cover, it was one of my favourites. It probably unravelled and ended up in my dad's rag box - it must've been as old as me, if not older. It went with us on holiday once, I think, probably France or Germany - one of the car trips, so must've been either of those - and maybe I tend to remember it when I'm ill because that's the only duvet cover in my mind whenever I remember when I was ill as a child.
If I ever find a similar duvet cover, I need to have it - there's something incredibly soothing about custard yellow-with-thin-white-stripes.
Btw, this is not it:
The most peculiar thing though - whenever I'm not feeling well, I seem to be reminded of this duvet cover I used to have as a child. It was yellow - custard yellow - with thin white stripes on the one side, and white with custard yellow thin strips on the other side.
I wonder what happened to that cover, it was one of my favourites. It probably unravelled and ended up in my dad's rag box - it must've been as old as me, if not older. It went with us on holiday once, I think, probably France or Germany - one of the car trips, so must've been either of those - and maybe I tend to remember it when I'm ill because that's the only duvet cover in my mind whenever I remember when I was ill as a child.
If I ever find a similar duvet cover, I need to have it - there's something incredibly soothing about custard yellow-with-thin-white-stripes.
Btw, this is not it:
The stripes are too close together and the pillow thing never had buttons. But it's the right shade of yellow. I'd go mad over the number of stripes though.
Thursday 14 March 2013
Cold (again!)
I'm not talking about meteorological cold this time, just the physical one, the one that's brought on by rhinovirus (mass noun, I learn something new every day).
Anyway, I'm fine, except for the cough. Besides, it proves a brilliant excuse to be spending too much time in bed watching Dr Who.
So not much news so far, just that I've made all currently possible preparations for the Heidelberg Conference (which means that I've registered and booked a hostel, all I need to do now is figure out whether I'm flying in or taking a train) and that some other things are going fairly well too - though still waiting for news from Cardiff, which is getting scarier every second BUT I guess the longer it takes the higher my chances of being short-listed. I hope. Fingers crossed and all that.
Anyway, happy Pi Day (I didn't even buy pie today, let alone bake one - came straight back home after Transnational Policing... blah) and I'll go back to watching Dr Who so I can flex my what I guess should be called 'speculative physics'-thinking... I'm not very good at physics (never was), but I still like discussing the possibilities of time travel and alternate dimensions with some of my far more physics-versed and infinitely more intelligent friends... Haven't done it in forever though, I really should again, it's good for my logical thinking.
Oh, and I saw Cardiff on Dr Who the other day. Looks pretty, like a mix between Middelburg and Vlissingen... I like pretty.
Ah, no, that should be 'I found Cardiff looking aesthetically pleasing, and aesthetically pleasing environs stimulate my thinking as well as alleviate any dark moods' - I should be turning in a proper academic, and should be talking proper Academese...
What the hell, Cardiff looked pretty on TV.
Cool. Cool cool cool.
Anyway, I'm fine, except for the cough. Besides, it proves a brilliant excuse to be spending too much time in bed watching Dr Who.
So not much news so far, just that I've made all currently possible preparations for the Heidelberg Conference (which means that I've registered and booked a hostel, all I need to do now is figure out whether I'm flying in or taking a train) and that some other things are going fairly well too - though still waiting for news from Cardiff, which is getting scarier every second BUT I guess the longer it takes the higher my chances of being short-listed. I hope. Fingers crossed and all that.
Anyway, happy Pi Day (I didn't even buy pie today, let alone bake one - came straight back home after Transnational Policing... blah) and I'll go back to watching Dr Who so I can flex my what I guess should be called 'speculative physics'-thinking... I'm not very good at physics (never was), but I still like discussing the possibilities of time travel and alternate dimensions with some of my far more physics-versed and infinitely more intelligent friends... Haven't done it in forever though, I really should again, it's good for my logical thinking.
Oh, and I saw Cardiff on Dr Who the other day. Looks pretty, like a mix between Middelburg and Vlissingen... I like pretty.
Ah, no, that should be 'I found Cardiff looking aesthetically pleasing, and aesthetically pleasing environs stimulate my thinking as well as alleviate any dark moods' - I should be turning in a proper academic, and should be talking proper Academese...
What the hell, Cardiff looked pretty on TV.
Cool. Cool cool cool.
Tuesday 12 March 2013
Passport
It'd be vain to assume the Dutch Ambassador in London would read this post, and even more vain to assume the Minister for Foreign Affairs would. But if either of them does - thanks for the brilliant service.
Seriously.
When I went to apply for my new passport at the Birmingham consulate, I was already surprised at the efficiency and at how professionally they dealt with me. The whole process was so clear - fill out the form, have your picture taken at one of the places that has received instructions about Dutch passport photos, make an appointment, show up for your appointment, hand over your stuff, have your fingerprints taken (whether I'm happy with that is a different matter entirely), hand over your money, and go.
In and out in under 20 minutes - and no waiting, besides.
The consular official told me I'd have my stuff in about two to three weeks.
It's been two weeks, to the day (!), and I've just picked up my new passport from the porter's office here in Leicester. Now that's timely service.
And I like my new passport - I like the turquoise and the way my autograph looks and that I don't look like a criminal in my picture. My last photograph really did resemble some of the newspaper pics of Myra Hindley. And, most of all, I like how it says 'Ambassadeur te London' for the issuing authority - it makes me feel like a secret agent, like I don't just have some ordinary passport but one especially issued by the ambassador so I can provide special services for King and Country (yesss I'm thinking of the future) - on the other hand it also is a step away from the banality of having a passport issued by municipality, it's a sort of step away from mundanely living in the Netherlands.
What I'm also very happy with is the fact that I received my old passport and ID card back. I had to hand them over and though I didn't regret that, I do like the fact that I now get to retain my two Egyptian and my one Moroccan visa. Even though there've been holes punched through them and they were only valid for six weeks max anyway.
Major brownie points for the Consulate and Ambassador for providing a great service overall. So, Minister for Foreign Affairs, if I were you I'd give them a good pat on the back for this. The government isn't all horror and buzzkills.
Seriously.
When I went to apply for my new passport at the Birmingham consulate, I was already surprised at the efficiency and at how professionally they dealt with me. The whole process was so clear - fill out the form, have your picture taken at one of the places that has received instructions about Dutch passport photos, make an appointment, show up for your appointment, hand over your stuff, have your fingerprints taken (whether I'm happy with that is a different matter entirely), hand over your money, and go.
In and out in under 20 minutes - and no waiting, besides.
The consular official told me I'd have my stuff in about two to three weeks.
It's been two weeks, to the day (!), and I've just picked up my new passport from the porter's office here in Leicester. Now that's timely service.
And I like my new passport - I like the turquoise and the way my autograph looks and that I don't look like a criminal in my picture. My last photograph really did resemble some of the newspaper pics of Myra Hindley. And, most of all, I like how it says 'Ambassadeur te London' for the issuing authority - it makes me feel like a secret agent, like I don't just have some ordinary passport but one especially issued by the ambassador so I can provide special services for King and Country (yesss I'm thinking of the future) - on the other hand it also is a step away from the banality of having a passport issued by municipality, it's a sort of step away from mundanely living in the Netherlands.
What I'm also very happy with is the fact that I received my old passport and ID card back. I had to hand them over and though I didn't regret that, I do like the fact that I now get to retain my two Egyptian and my one Moroccan visa. Even though there've been holes punched through them and they were only valid for six weeks max anyway.
Major brownie points for the Consulate and Ambassador for providing a great service overall. So, Minister for Foreign Affairs, if I were you I'd give them a good pat on the back for this. The government isn't all horror and buzzkills.
Monday 11 March 2013
So this morning, while I was fiddling around with my mobile in Forensics (during the break, though, so no lack of attention for the lesson, promise!), I received an email from Cardiff.
The usual stuff, heart racing, terrified it would say no, all that stuff.
But it didn't say no.
What it did say was that I'll receive news soon about whether I'm shortlisted for funding and whether I'll be invited for an interview.
Of course the email also came with the disclaimer that there's loads of brilliant candidates and that they're having a tough time making decisions (i.e. don't get your hopes up too much really!) so yeah we'll see.
Basically, it was a confirmation of receipt of my application.
I'm even more anxious and terrified now.
The usual stuff, heart racing, terrified it would say no, all that stuff.
But it didn't say no.
What it did say was that I'll receive news soon about whether I'm shortlisted for funding and whether I'll be invited for an interview.
Of course the email also came with the disclaimer that there's loads of brilliant candidates and that they're having a tough time making decisions (i.e. don't get your hopes up too much really!) so yeah we'll see.
Basically, it was a confirmation of receipt of my application.
I'm even more anxious and terrified now.
Wednesday 6 March 2013
Deutsch
I just realized that I'll have to dig up my old schoolbooks to polish my German; mein LinkedIn-Profil sagt dass ich Deutsch spreche, aber ich glaube nicht dass mein Deutsch gut genug ist für eine kurze Reise... (I solemnly swear I did not use Google Translate for that sentence).
It's of course grammar that does it, I tend to add 'e's where they're not needed and drop them where they are, and Der/Die/Das/Die is a complete horror too (I get about far enough to distinguish between forms in Nominativ - usually - and while I do know the purpose of akkusativ/dativ/genitiv [I've had 5 years of Latin, after all], I just can't... absorb it. Never could.).
Nominativ: Der/Die/Das/Die
Akkusativ: Den/Die/Das/Die
Dativ: Dem/Der/Dem/Den
Genitiv: Des/Der/Des/Der
See, my father can do those 16 off the top of his head (and likes to show off that he can, too ;) ), but I can't (but then, I speak Academic English, so there), so I'll have to do a bit of studying.
Vocabulary is fine, of course, usually, and if I don't know it I'll just go for the standard wie sagt Man dass... I glaube... ja... est ist and then a description.
If all else fails, I'll start reciting the lyrics from Ich wär' so gerne Millionär, if only to do justice to the fact that I am supposed to have had four years of German class, 2 hours per week, in secondary school. I'm sure my former German instructor will be very happy to hear that of all the things he tried to teach me, I remember that song best. And Flämmchen, of course.
Ah, but as long as I know zwei Bier und ein Bratwurst bitte I won't starve.
It's of course grammar that does it, I tend to add 'e's where they're not needed and drop them where they are, and Der/Die/Das/Die is a complete horror too (I get about far enough to distinguish between forms in Nominativ - usually - and while I do know the purpose of akkusativ/dativ/genitiv [I've had 5 years of Latin, after all], I just can't... absorb it. Never could.).
Nominativ: Der/Die/Das/Die
Akkusativ: Den/Die/Das/Die
Dativ: Dem/Der/Dem/Den
Genitiv: Des/Der/Des/Der
See, my father can do those 16 off the top of his head (and likes to show off that he can, too ;) ), but I can't (but then, I speak Academic English, so there), so I'll have to do a bit of studying.
Vocabulary is fine, of course, usually, and if I don't know it I'll just go for the standard wie sagt Man dass... I glaube... ja... est ist and then a description.
If all else fails, I'll start reciting the lyrics from Ich wär' so gerne Millionär, if only to do justice to the fact that I am supposed to have had four years of German class, 2 hours per week, in secondary school. I'm sure my former German instructor will be very happy to hear that of all the things he tried to teach me, I remember that song best. And Flämmchen, of course.
PhD Application Qualification Verification
I had a minor heart attack just now because, as I do every 10 minutes, I checked my application status on the Cardiff website thing whatever for applications, and suddenly my qualifications box was empty and I was like, WHAT.
But then I checked the application form there and it says that everything other than my Leicester degree has been verified - of course they can't verify my Leicester degree, I don't have it yet.
So that's probably why.
I hope that's why, at least.
On the upside, that hopefully means I'll either hear a very cruel "NO" soon or get an invitation for an interview, like, soon too. Fingers crossed and all that.
In the meanwhile, I'll go back to having minor heart attack about other things that I shouldn't be having minor heart attacks over. Lators.
PS To remain faithful to the spirit of Imperial March, I will be giving a short presentation on American Psycho today in Media & Crime.
But then I checked the application form there and it says that everything other than my Leicester degree has been verified - of course they can't verify my Leicester degree, I don't have it yet.
So that's probably why.
I hope that's why, at least.
On the upside, that hopefully means I'll either hear a very cruel "NO" soon or get an invitation for an interview, like, soon too. Fingers crossed and all that.
In the meanwhile, I'll go back to having minor heart attack about other things that I shouldn't be having minor heart attacks over. Lators.
PS To remain faithful to the spirit of Imperial March, I will be giving a short presentation on American Psycho today in Media & Crime.
Tuesday 5 March 2013
Conferences
I like conferences.
They provide a very decent excuse to go some place interesting, talk to like-minded people about stuff that interests most attendees but no one else in the entire world, and just have fun.
I guess they're kind of like a group holiday for academics.
And today is the best day, for me, to book my attendance of the PALA conference in Heidelberg. I read the other two parts of the Campus Trilogy, Small World and Nice Work over the weekend, and this morning when I walked onto campus I saw a man who looked eerily like how I pictured the bearded Philip Swallow - tall, grey haired-and-bearded with a bald spot.
Today is also a good day for it because registration opened.
Of course I also signed up for Summer School, because how can I not when one of my former lecturers is teaching half of it and loads of fun people have said they'd join. Besides, I've managed to justify to myself most parts of the teaching programme as being useful in my Criminology studies (oh, the joys of an inherently interdisciplinary field!). I guess perceiving crime as the result of criminalisation, in turn a manner of maintaining and altering power-relations in society, allows for a great range of such justifications (and also explains why economics and political philosophy are still so interesting to me).
But, so, yes, I've booked my academic "summer camp" (it is kind of like that, too). If only it were summer yet.
They provide a very decent excuse to go some place interesting, talk to like-minded people about stuff that interests most attendees but no one else in the entire world, and just have fun.
I guess they're kind of like a group holiday for academics.
And today is the best day, for me, to book my attendance of the PALA conference in Heidelberg. I read the other two parts of the Campus Trilogy, Small World and Nice Work over the weekend, and this morning when I walked onto campus I saw a man who looked eerily like how I pictured the bearded Philip Swallow - tall, grey haired-and-bearded with a bald spot.
Today is also a good day for it because registration opened.
Of course I also signed up for Summer School, because how can I not when one of my former lecturers is teaching half of it and loads of fun people have said they'd join. Besides, I've managed to justify to myself most parts of the teaching programme as being useful in my Criminology studies (oh, the joys of an inherently interdisciplinary field!). I guess perceiving crime as the result of criminalisation, in turn a manner of maintaining and altering power-relations in society, allows for a great range of such justifications (and also explains why economics and political philosophy are still so interesting to me).
But, so, yes, I've booked my academic "summer camp" (it is kind of like that, too). If only it were summer yet.
Friday 1 March 2013
Imperial March: The Malevolent Muses
Evil Greetings.
Today sees the start of the 2013 Imperial March.
What is the Imperial March?
It is, for one, a brilliant piece composed by John Williams as Darth Vader's leitmotif in the original Star Wars trilogy.
It is also a month to be spent exploring evil characters and deeds in fiction and other forms of art, as well as reconsider what evil supposedly is and does, and whether what you or anyone else considers to be evil is evil at all.
Who invented the Imperial March?
As said, the symphony was written by John Williams.
Imperial March as an event first celebrated by EvilCo in 2012.
What is EvilCo?
EvilCo is a group of people looking to celebrate villains in art and fiction, it has existed since 2011 and at any point in time holds a maximum of 13 members.
Can I also celebrate Imperial March?
Yes, please do! Life would be terribly boring if morality was static.
Even if I'm not an EvilCo member?
Especially when you're not an EvilCo member!
How do I do it?
Any way is possible. There are no rules. However, EvilCo and myself specifically do not endorse harming other people or animals or property in any way.
In fact, that is one of the reasons to celebrate Imperial March - we hold the opinion that violence, gore and immorality in fiction and art - this includes films and video games - removes the need to carry out harmful acts "out there". Imperial March offers a safe and harmless way to explore such things in a manner that has no impact on others unless they choose it for it to have an impact - but, as with all things, if they choose for some expression of evilness in art to have an impact on them, those people have no right to complain.
If, however, you wilfully exert an evil influence on other people, those other people have of course every right to rebel and retaliate as though you were actually Darth Vader/Lord Voldemort/Sauron.
Do you promote immorality and evilness?
Only to express in fiction and art.
As a sort of carnival so evil impulses don't need to be expressed in real life.
And now, for this year's first contribution, a poem:
The Malevolent Muses
Nine in total, Muses of art
And nine in vicious counterpart
The Malevolent Muses
To whom Everyone loses
Nine in total, Muses of wrong
Muses as evil in life's epic song
One for villains of the writ
One for truly painful wit
One for stage and silver screen
One for things that once have been
One for light and paint and rock
One for slowing down the clock
One for song and rhyme
One for wasting time
One for wasting time
One for life's regret
These Muses hold to us terrible debt
And regardless of their wrong or right
They are so very much a plight
When things go wrong and one so chooses
One should blame the Malevolent Muses.
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