I can't have a real thing


The problem with a fantasy is that stick with it long enough, and it becomes your reality. Problem is, it's got only one subscriber.

I reject your reality and substitute it with mine!

Edge of Desire

Nice to know Mr Mayer feels the same

You need a make-over

Academics can only seldom lead lives that are spacious or exciting in a worldly sense. They need laboratories or libraries and the company of other academics. Their work is in no way made deeper or more cogent by privation, distress or worldly buffetings. Their private lives may be unhappy, strangely mixed up or comic, but not in ways that tell us anything special about the nature or direction of their work. Academics lie outside the devastation area of the literary convention according to which the lives of artists and men of letters are intrinsically interesting, a source of cultural insight in themselves. If a scientist were to cut his ear off, no one would take it as evidence of a heightened sensibility...
- Sir Peter B. Medawar


Too often I get told "you don't look like a scientist".
Too often I have been tempted to reply "you don't look very perceptive".
Too often I simply laugh and nod and say instead "well... you know, someone has to be the black sheep."

So apparently being a scientist means you need to be socially awkward, dress really boring or confused, have bad hair and/or skin and probably also smell a little funky from being surrounded by mysterious substances all day. In a time where being uncool is cool, where geek is chic, the real geeks are still uncool. Sadface. Frankly, the geek stereotype could not be further from the truth. Just like how not every American wears a cowboy hat and likes country music, not every scientist suffers from near-blindness myopia and a complete inability to successfully integrate into average society.


Although, you might get arrested if you forgot your shirt like she did.

It's a self-fulfilling prophecy in a way too because there's an unspoken rule that thou shalt not dress nice at work in case thou be mistaken for the sales rep from the microscope company. A likes to call them "molecular barbies". It's a shame really, that science has such an un-sexy reputation. I feel like that scares away the kids with aptitude and interest in science, who worry that it will eventually sap them of their personality and social life. The result is you end up with what everyone else expects: Drones in lab coats mining away mindlessly at data. Too much emphasis has been put on the smart factor, without realising that in this country grades are not necessarily a good indication of intelligence. They're good indicators of R&R - Read and Regurgitate. We need dynamic, creative and smart people in labs, just like any other industry.

The un-sexiness isn't just a societal phenomena either - I've seen one too many faces sink when I tell them I'm a scientist and they realise they have absolutely no way to pretend to be interested in what I'm saying. The last time someone was excited to hear about my work was at an Actin conference. I'm starting to think that I will lock gazes with Mr Right across a crowded convention hall at a conference, or possibly while fighting for the last crabcake at the buffet line... Which is probably why the other day my mother told me: "Max, don't feel pressurized to settle down. Your dad and I are fine if you stay single."

Yet another vote of confidence from my parents regarding my marriage-ability.

I'm going to make it my personal mission to give science a make-over. Feebly protesting "we're cool too" just isn't going to cut it anymore.

Scientists are people of very dissimilar temperaments doing different things in very different ways. Among scientists are collectors, classifiers and compulsive tidiers-up; many are detectives by temperament and many are explorers; some are artists and others artisans. There are poets–scientists and philosopher–scientists and even a few mystics. ... and most people who are in fact scientists could easily have been something else instead.
— Sir Peter B. Medawar
'Hypothesis and Imagination', The Art of the Soluble (1967)

Hard shells break easily
Just like crustaceans
Soft exteriors are malleable
Like play-doh
Now extend that to people.

Been really inspired lately by scientists that bridge the world of art and science. It's a little demoralizing too, because I get worried that by the time I get to the point where I have sufficient knowledge or credibility to create inspirational, amazing art rooted in science... It may all have been done and dusted. Well I suppose we're just all seeking to be the second wave of Renaissance men (and women).

Another thing that scares me about our generation - technology and information (when you can separate the two) move so fast. Becoming obsolete is now an impending doom that travels on the shinkansen instead of a coal-fired steam train. The Red Queen Hypothesis is now running into hyperspeed. Makes me tired just to think about the amount of reading up to do for this catching up.

Well here're some of the inspiring artscience projects I've seen lately; Lest we forget -

A PhD student at Columbia curates amazing images from the field of neuroscienc research throughout history

David Edwards, 'nuff said.

The insightfully irreverent Jonathan Keats does it again.

Been checking my credit limit weekly and getting rather worried as I watch my balance slowly crumble away... Damn grad school applications and Christmas shopping! Spending is also heating up as the year draws to a close because it's time to plan for January's ski trip to Japan. Arming myself with some new photog gear so I can be ninja-ready for any action on the streets and on the slopes. Fret not though, I won't be taping camcorders to my hands while avoiding foliage downhill... That would be like texting while driving, which I NEVER do.

Ironic that I spend dinner discussing how I don't need hoards of cash to be happy, then turn around and complain about funding the hundreds of dollars of STUFF I am accumulating in my Amazon cart. Do I really NEED THIS SHIT? It's actually gotten to the point where I start actively thinking about what ELSE I could possibly put in my cart, you know, so I maximize my shipping costs. Fellow online shoppers - don't even pretend to have never done that.

And then I get to the checkout where they ask me for my credit card number and suddenly get handicapped by the realization that I'm about to spend what is equivalent to probably a year's wage in some poor under-developed country.

We humans are a sick species indeed.

Just because I can, doesn't mean I should... Right?

Why is my id so overgrown?! IMPULSE CONTROL, WOMAN.

It's not yet New Year's but with the death of my Facebook account I felt I should come up with some resolutions to justify my actions:

1. Bang out damn good grad school essays
2. Read more papers for work
3. Stop oversharing. This includes spending time swimming in the sea of music, videos and websites... then bombarding my friends with them. (This links to #1 and #2)
4. Advocate face-to-face interactions with my beloved friends THEN show them those crazy videos and music.

That said, I do miss the virtual version of life. I never need to wait for a response there - either it's instantaneous, or I get a notification when it occurs.

The internet is changing the way we interact, but I don't think I'm fully ready to commit to that... Yet. I need to go to a bookstore and remind myself of the weight and smell of books.

Over lunch (Thai; alright but shit service)
A: Have you ever noticed how your internet connection slows down massively in the evenings? It's like after dinner, the entire island decides to collectively download their porn or something.