1+1 is 11

April 5th, 2008 [007]

One fine morning, while pondering upon the course of her life, Cathy stumbled across a certain shoe. It was a magical shoe; Cathy knew this at first sight, because it was kindly labeled “Magical” with a tag. So, as any right-minded person would do, she picked it up and rubbed the side of it with her sleeve. And soon enough, the much-expected Genie floated out.
The Genie created purple smoke, but didn’t seem to like it. It changed it to green, then introduced itself to Cathy. It told her that it was the Genie of the Adidas Shoe, and that it had been slumbering for quite a long time now. It offered to grant three of Cathy’s most desired wishes.
It Huffed… and it Puffed….
But it didn’t take too long for Cathy to figure out what she wanted. So she went up to the Genie and said, “I would like to be a genius mathematician, and discover a certain theorem or law that will disprove the entire mathematical foundation as it is.”
The Genie wasn’t sure why Cathy wanted such a wish, but granted it anyway.
Cathy had somehow become a professor of MIT. Her autobiography [titled: “Looking forward to meet Einstein in Heaven”] was displayed through the Barnes & Nobles windows, and she found math textbooks to be much thinner and containing less content than she had remembered. It was all very delightful. To think that the world was now full of only the things that mattered; it was like enjoying a day at Charlie’s Chocolate Factory without the mutating candies. But great things don’t last, and the Genie of the Adidas Shoe was quick to tell her that its friend, the Genie of the Math Textbook was rather pissed. So Cathy told it that she would very much like to move onto her second wish.
The Genie sat down by the sidewalk, and waited patiently.
Cathy told it, “I would like a certain pill to be developed.”
The Genie asked her if she wanted anything more specific. Cathy told him that she did.
“One of these pills at lunchtime, for example, should cover all the important nutrition and stimulate the stomach just enough to satisfy it. People who don’t want to eat, don’t have time to eat, or have gone to somewhere exotic where the food doesn’t appeal, will have a choice to have this pill instead. There should be no harmful effects for long-term use of this pill, and it must be available in any nearby stores.” Cathy remembered the many lunch times she needed for some last minute cramming.
The Genie listened carefully, then asked Cathy if it could make the pill green, and she told him yes, as long it wasn’t neon green. Or else it would rather feel like swallowing a frog.
The scenery changed in a whirl, and Cathy found herself standing in between one of the isles in Seven Eleven. It was dazzling. A shelf was dedicated for “Genie” pills, with a Breakfast, Lunch, and Dinner, each in heavy, normal, and diet. They were all in different shades of green. The Genie was satisfied of its work, and so was Cathy.

For her last wish, Cathy asked the Genie to allow her three more wishes. The Genie first denied, but eventually gave in after Cathy said that she would either wish that or wish the Genie of the Shoe to be lost 2000 Fathoms under the sea forever.

It was then Cathy realized that she was still the genius MIT professor who absolutely disoriented the academia of math. The Genie of the Math Textbook might still be coming after her, so she reckoned that she would wish herself out of it. She gave it away to some random name that just might be out there— say, Harry Potter, so that the upset Textbook Genie could unleash on somebody else.

So Cathy was Cathy Minlian Kim again.
A content Korean girl that goes to an International School, who plays soccer, is rather short, who excels in Social Studies and English but cannot calculate 1+1 to save her life.

Last time I saw her, she was bugging the Genie to let her speak every language in the world. Quite absurd! Wouldn’t really want to be her.

Postscript: since there were no Harry Potters anywhere to be found, the wish got “returned,” then “lost.” Math regained its former position as a legitimate subject, and Cathy forgot the math-disproving theorem, which is a shame. Maybe she’ll remember it in the near future.

March 19th, 2008 [005]

Observe the picture above. It is that of an ancient Chinese pottery replica I’ve seen in Beijing last year. The Chinese are well known for their delicate and ornate artifacts. But take a closer look; you will see that the golden paint has been carelessly dabbed on. The pottery seams to be embedded with heart-shape, but the paint does not satisfy those proper boundaries. What happened? Of all places, you would think that an ancient temple open for cultural display would have attained a higher quality of this or any other aspect.

This reminded me of the word, “perfectionism.”

I admit that I have a form of perfectionism. No, not the type that must have every book on one’s desk to be perfectly aligned, and definitely not type that needs to have an essay perfectly grammar-clean and spelling-clean. My brand is a less conspicuous and the less elegant type.

Something like… wanting to start on a task or project only if I feel I can do a good job on it, if that makes any sense. On the more negative side, it also means that I tend to leave something before even starting, when I judge it to be near impossible or pointless.

This is a problem sometimes, because I usually can’t move on writing an essay until a thesis is perfect, and it bothers me when time is insufficient to do so. When playing a game, I want to find all hidden places, obtain every secret items, etc. If I think I can’t do that, it is most likely for me to not start that game at all. I want to either read the entire textbook or none at all, I want to finish a novel or not start at all.

So I’d rather have an all or nothing. It’s not a exotic or absurd personality trait, I believe. I’ll bet that many people think this way. You want to do something perfectly, but time and resources do not allow.

This whole thing is a random thought I had. Just to prove a point that I wouldn’t have colored that pottery thing in the first place if I were them :] I would have just left it uncolored.

But then from far away, you can’t tell whether the paint is done nicely or not. Does it mean that a crappy homework is sometimes better than none at all?

February 24th, 2008 [002]

On my third year playing soccer, I came across an obvious but subtle truth; that I really love this “simply complicated” sport. Since the season began two weeks ago, I found myself increasingly consumed in the sport, and it wasn’t long until it occurred to me that “life is like a game of soccer.” Now, I figure that many famous, un-famous, and/or infamous people alike have said something like this in the past, but I am not aware of any of them by name. So I think I want to go ahead and say what I think; that the details and characteristics of soccer closely resemble that of life itself.

The goal of soccer is, quite literally, to “make a goal.” The many or few balls that successfully advance through the defensive ford of the opponent, and manages through the ultimate crisis (which we call the goal keeper), is then called a goal. These goals together create a victory. I need not mention that life, also, requires a streak of succeeded goals, and self imposed victories.

During the game, a player is usually given many moments when he or she is the “owner of the ball.” He or she has the ball alone, and it is up to them to make that moment as fruitful as possibly can. I understand that this moment can be both a source of satisfaction and/or shame. Say that one managed to dribble through an opponent and make a goal. Say that another failed to secure the ball from an opponent, leading to a loss of point. Would one not feel pride while the other shame? Let’s now assume that the former had prepared hard for a moment like this during practices, etc. Practice makes perfect, and the seatbelt-ed person survives the car crash. At an important moment– one of life’s minor opportunities, the former has an advantage.

But now look at this from a 180 degrees angle. As a forward, I experience a few major opportunities. These opportunities, if conducted well, will lead to a goal. I would say that luck is also a skill necessary in soccer and life. Those who can grasp the chances given to them and make the most out of them– whether it is due to skill or luck– they are the “good players” that the team wants.

Now that I’ve mentioned it, the “team” is another important aspect. It’s rather simple: one cannot play soccer alone. There are eleven positions to be filled with those of different skill ranges, strengths and weaknesses. The victory of your team is the victory of yourself. In society, we find ourselves included and involved in many groups. It is rare that one wins alone. The swimmer wins a gold metal, but so does his country. A student is proud for being accepted to Harvard, but her school is proud too. This, I think is something that connects the world and society, and allows progress. Like in economics we say that the people’s self interest creates a balance. People’s self interest put together as a team creates a victory. This, for most cases is accepted and valued.

However, I must address an exception. Sometimes, one will cross the line between mutual self-interest and a covetous one. Nobody wants a player with self-interest to the extent to competing with fellow teammates. If a fellow forward of mine, for example, will not pass to anyone so she can be credited for more goals on her own, she will soon be disliked. So there needs to be a balance, you see.

I have mentioned some time ago that soccer requires preparation and practice, and that it requires luck and chance-use. These are what I call “hopeful” factors, or things about oneself that can be changed to improved by time and effort. However, in soccer, an inborn athletic talent is also important. The basic reflexes. Among the group of people who will try out for soccer for their first time, those with better reaction time, etc (things that cannot be improved by practice), are surely to succeed. The world is NOT equal. It’s time we stop saying that it is. Or else everyone would become the same-skilled players after the same amount of practice, and/or they will all reach Stanford after studying hard.

But, I like the world better this way. As I had said, soccer requires players of different skill ranges, strengths and weaknesses. It’s more unpredictable and surprising that way, I would think.