#i did many task today progress has been semi made on my finals and i did my laundry

[heartsbreaking]

was gonna try and watch last night's yellowstone tonite but i fear i am too tired potentially :( it'll be a nice treat for tomorrow it's just sad i wont be able to talk about the new episode with my therapist

[physicistdyke]

Transed his own Gender

Dr. Harold P. Coomer is trans, he's worked his whole academic career to make his body just how he wanted it. Now, at age 46, he finally has an opportunity with his work at Black Mesa to get bottom surgery. But his colleague and friend Dr Bubby, who doesn’t know anything about gender besides the strict hetero-normative and patriarchal culture of STEM, objects to the new and risky procedure while questioning Coomers desires to put his own safety at risk all for a silly gen-dar.

rb >> likes!

Link to ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25611880

or read under cut 

It was both viciously empowering and crumbled him to the core. He had a power over his own body, rare for the here and now in this space and time. Harold had felt this way many times before, an advantage that should be a right. He could relieve his own suffering, but at what cost? The lingering thoughts would stick with him, latching on like a parasite, a cancer. A hand on his shoulder brought him back into his body, a body he’s worked so hard for. He turned back to see his colleague, stoic in expression. Dr Bubby was not good at expressing emotions in a conventional manner, but other characteristics helped to convey what his face could not. Right now the pressure he was applying with his hand on Coomer’s shoulder mixed with how he avoided eye contact told Coomer that Bubby was afraid. Bubby was afraid for Coomer. “Are you sure you want to go through with this?” Bubby started. Coomer was about to reply, but Bubby’s own racing mind cut him off. “It’s a very experimental procedure you know, I was reading over the cybernetics reports-“ “Please Bubby,” Coomer turned and looked up at him straight on, he saw worry in his friend’s eyes, “I am fully aware of what I’m doing, I have done just as much research as you.” He said these words with confidence. He didn’t want to hurt his friends feelings more, but sometimes Bubby’s ego got the best of him. Bubby took a step back from the other man, as if the eye contact burned him. Harold was one of the few people Bubby could look in the eyes without that feeling, but now it felt like the island of experience between them was distant. He averted his gaze back to a corner of the room, reconsidering his own words and constructing a sentence most logical for the situation. “I just don’t understand your desire to keep going forward with this, you’re already well respected enough.” *** ____________________________________

This would be Coomer’s first procedure since he had met Bubby. The most recent before that was the operation on his chest, he had snagged that opportunity while working on his post doctorate. That was an experimental procedure at the time too, but Coomer’s endless tap of kindness and intelligence had been able to convince his friends in the medical department and their higher ups that this was an ethically sound decision. Even though Coomer himself never wished to study human anatomy, much preferring engineering and physics to biology, the circumstances of his life pushed him to learn more then he wanted to know. This study began the second he got to college, an unaware and afraid young man, he used his own body as test subject. Mixing concoctions that transformed his body and mind. By the time he was applying for his masters, he was a new man. All the insecurity and anxiousness of his younger years behind him, he now shone like the star he was. From there he made incremental and bolder steps in the process of his transition; first with the top surgery as mentioned before, and now, at the age of 46, he was arranging what would hopefully be his final procedure. Black Mesa did a lot of things, and apparently mechanical prosthetics was now one of them. The new cybernetics department had already made wondrous strides in terms of arms and legs, restoring ability to those in their ranks that needed it. These semi-mechanical, semi-flesh prosthetics fascinated Dr. Coomer to no end. About 8 months ago he had started wandering into the department more often. Finding himself asking passing questions to colleagues, asking questions from a genuine place in the heart. Dr. Coomer was open to talk about his experiences as a trans man, but a majority of his peers were always too uncomfortable to ask. They saw it as an oddity within a good man, he saw it as something that helped make him the good man he was today. The gap in that understanding stung Coomer sometimes, and the feeling of isolation sometimes crept up on him. But his smile and the passion for his studies often helped to bring him away from that space. It was about 2 months ago when he picked out a particular team within the cybernetics department, and started to have more serious conversations with them. From a scientific perspective, everyone involved was enthralled by the prospect. Combine that with Coomer's consistent fascination, confidence, and consent, they were fast approaching a place where action could be taken. _____________________________________

Bubby had noticed his friend's increased absence from their own department. Missing from collaboration meetings, not in his office or nearest break room for their usual chit chat. Coomer was an unlikely but much appreciated friend to Bubby. They had met about 10 years prior, when Bubby was nearly done the process of being titled 'a successful prototype'. Coomer was an unexpected ray of sunshine in Bubby's life. Showing him a kindness and understanding Bubby never had the luxury to live with. Being regarded as a test subject and experiment your whole life does that to you. ____________________________________

Bubby didn't know what being trans meant when Coomer first brought it up with him. Bubby, in reality, didn't even know what gender meant. He had a vague grasp on the fact that gender existed. The knowledge tubes his creators attached to him all those years ago mostly skipped out on all topics of liberal arts, humanity, sociology, etc, except for the most minimum required for him to be a somewhat functioning social life form. But what Dr Bubby lacked in those nuanced interactions and social rules, he well made up for in his ability to observe and form logical conclusions (according to his own account). He was aware of the fact that some people were referred to differently. Out of Black Mesas staff, a small minority were referred to as ‘she’. This group had a tendency to dress different from the rest of the staff, occasionally donning skirts and dresses, and varying from person to person on pigment applied to the face. Bubby viewed these people as his equal (or more so equally below him as the rest of his male co-workers, as he was still an egotistical jerk), but he couldn’t help but notice the trends surrounding this group. Bubby heard the back handed remarks, the passing jokes, the tone of superiority made by some of his male colleagues about the fairer sex. He saw the anxiety in his female colleagues when this attitude approached them. He noted the equal distribution of men to women in the ranks of visiting grad students and post docs, yet the stark lack of women in actual professional roles at Black Mesa. He saw the complacency in nearly all of his male colleagues regarding the generally accepted treatment words the ‘fairer sex’. Nearly all his male colleagues. Coomer and Bubby had been working together for a few years, and a friendship (or the closest thing to that someone could get to with Bubby) had started to really solidify. They were on lunch together, discussing the published panels from a recent convention on nuclear physics. Bubby was particularly fascinated in some newly publish findings on strange Beta decay experiments. He excitedly postulated the possibilities the results could mean for the future of the strong nuclear force. Dr Coomer was as supportive and thoughtful towards his friend as ever, but something else seemed to be occupying his thoughts. “Did you read over the notes from the panel on gender issues in STEM?” Dr. Coomer eventually interrupted when his lingering thoughts became too present. This caught Bubby off guard, but he quickly caught up with his colleagues present state of mind, “I didn’t because I saw it as trivial. I mean, it was a convention on nuclear physics, why waste time with trivial matters of progressing social etiquette?” Coomer furrowed his brow and Bubby realized he had perhaps chosen the wrong words, “Well Professor, if you had spent the time to read, you’d realize it was barely focusing on Progressing social etiquette at all. The man they chose to lead the panel was as backwards thinking about women’s role in science as the Pythagoreans were about irrational numbers.” Bubby shuffled in his chair with slight discomfort, he was never put up to the task of discussing matters like this, “Ah, yes. Well that is a shame. Pretty fucked up too… But I’m sure women will find a way to still contribute valuable findings.” “It’s difficult enough already, I’m sick of this two steps forwards one step back mentality.” Coomer was submerged in his own thoughts, barely acknowledging Bubby’s weak response. “Things have barely changed since my undergrad days. I’m lucky I managed to survive the few years I did in academia being perceived as a woman.” Bubby processed this as neatly and quickly as he could. Gender could be changed. ____________________________________

***“What do you mean by respect, Professor?” Dr. Coomer asked, cooling his own emotions. “You know what I mean, you’re already perceived as a man! You’re no longer are seen as a woman and you’re no longer discriminated against. I admire that you’ve figured out a way to jump the backwards system but-“ he was cut off by Coomer. “Bubby,” Coomer looked at his friend, trying to fathom what the hell had gone wrong in that ‘perfect’ brain of his. He finally gathered his thoughts, “I’m not, trans- because I wanted to be respected. I’m trans because I just am.” Bubby ruminated on his colleagues response, “Well fine, if not for the respect then it’s simply conformity! It makes complete sense Harold, science can be a real dog eat dog world. Anything that makes you separate from the norm is just a weight to be lifted.” “What the actual hell are you talking about professor” a tone of anger and disappointment filled Coomer’s voice, “This is some really problematic thinking you know.” Bubby gave a huff and deepened his gaze to the corner of the room, he mulled over his thoughts and tried to choose his words carefully. As much as he hated to admit it, he really knew very little about gender, but his drive to maintain the upper hand kept him from admitting that. He decided drawing from personal experience was the most logical argument to make, “I mean, that’s why I’m a man. I guess I just always assumed it was the same for you.” Coomer’s look of annoyance turned to one of intrigue, it was rare for Bubby to share his more personal thoughts and feelings. Coomer took this opportunity to prod his colleague, “Is that so Dr Bubby?”, he knew how to get Bubby in a more comfortable mindset, “Then tell me, do you feel like a man?”. “What the fuck is that suppose to mean?” Bubby sneered, “I don’t feel like a man, I just present like one. What the hell does feeling have to do with gender?” Coomer chuckled a little, realizing his friend wasn’t a complete bigot, just an idiot. “I say Dr. Bubby, it looks like your creators really didn’t connect any gender tubes to that brain of yours. Did they tell you the you were a man?” Bubby was feeling increasingly exposed and embarrassed but kept his composure. “Those bastards didn’t tell me anything! At least not directly. I popped out of the tube and they just started calling me ‘he’ and I just rolled with it. I thought that happened to everyone! Until I met you,” Bubby finally returned his gaze to Coomer. Slight tones of confusion, fear, and anger made up his expression, “I could tell that it sucked to be a woman, regardless of their extra freedom of expression with clothes and things like that. So it made sense to me that you changed your presentation to avoid the ridicule.” Coomer enjoyed pressing Bubby’s ‘think deeply about something other than science’ button, but refrained and decided to give some explanation. “Bubby, that really isn’t how gender works in the slightest! I mean for some people they’re content with what ever gender they were assigned at birth, but even then they have some sort of emotional attachment or sense of that gender. And for others, like me, they feel a stronger connection to some other gender and they make what ever adjustments feels right for them. With everyone it can be pretty fluid throughout their lifetimes, but it’s all very personal. What gender do you feel Bubby?” “I don’t feel like any fucking gender! I feel like a scientist, can’t I just be that?” Bubby tapped his foot and rolled the hem of his lab coat between his fingers. He was glad he was talking about this with Harold, but it still felt awkward as hell. “Of course you can Dr. Bubby!” Coomer beamed at his colleagues honesty, “Though I don’t think you could be considered trans though, you were assigned Scientist at Birth™.” Cooper laughed at his own joke, which in turn made Bubby relax and smile a bit himself. Coomer placed a hand on Bubby’s sholder, “Ah, but in all seriousness. It’s completely valid to not be a man or a woman. There are plenty of people like that! And it’s also ok to not have any gender at all! You can feel and express yourself however you want to Bubby, and at least I’ll be here to fully support you. I hope you’re willing to do the same for me.” Bubby looked to the side in a sheepish but calmer way, “Well, of course Harold. I guess I didn’t fully understand how much this meant to you. I’m, um, sorry for speaking over you about this.” A sorry from Bubby was a rare commodity. “It’s alright. You were worried about my well being and I’m grateful for that! You were miss informed and kind of stupid, but I’m glad you were willing to open up and have an honest conversation with me.” Bubby smiled and his gaze was finally able to align with Coomer’s again, the feeling of safety retuned and his anxieties took a back seat. “Well, if it’s alright with you, I’d love to help you and the cybernetics department in your research and development. Learn more about the cutting edge of gender confirming surgery and whatnot.” Coomer beamed at the support, “Ah! I’d be happy to include you in Project Black Mesa Super Shlong 3000! I can grab some of the blueprints we’ve been working on right now!” Coomer left Bubby’s office in an excited hurry and would return shortly. In that time Bubby reflected on the conversation. Not needing to be a man or a woman? Not needing any gender at all? That sounded really nice to Bubby. He still had a lot to learn about life outside of Black Mesa and the apparently fluid rules of gender, but he was glad he Coomer there to fill in the gaps.

[jcherrybct]

3/3/20

In the days since my last post, a few things have happened involving COMP570, CTEC501 & CTEC502! 

I have been slowly working my way through the programming worksheet we were given in our last programming session, this has been very helpful in getting to grips with the fundamental knowledge. I do have to admit however there were a few times I felt like punching a hole in my computer screen, before realising the problem was with the person in the screens reflection. Not the screen itself.  I am getting more used to minor things such as the dreaded semi colon; which has stopped processing from reading the code I have written, and am sure it will soon become second nature. However, there were other errors that took me far too long to realise, such as using a single quotation mark as opposed to speech marks, which led to processing to let me know repeatedly there was a, ‘badly formed character constant.’ I shouldn’t be making that mistake again in a while! I have also gone through a few, ‘Hello processing!’ lessons in an attempt to both reinforce what we have learnt and keep myself writing the correct code! I am currently really enjoying processing and am looking forward to my next lecture/lesson!

Zoog! - The ‘man’ on the screen followed your mouse around the box.

In regards to Studio, the team and I now believe we have our ‘hacked’ board game ready for the presentation tomorrow. We all came in yesterday and managed (with several trials) to work out how to connect an LED to the Makey Makey and to only light up when a certain key is called upon. This came with help from a member of another team giving me potentially my biggest learn of studio so far. Copper wire has an insulating paint on, and is therefore is not conductive. I had been trialling different ways of connecting the LED to the output section of the Makey Makey using copper wires and discounted that we would be able to do so until finding this piece of information out. As good as self learning is, collaborating sooner would have helped save a lot of ‘wasted’ time. (I do not believe that the time was wasted as it got me thinking about several different solutions which could have been better than the trialed method). This also helped with the grounding pen we had created, I had isolated that the copper wire wasn’t conducting however believed it was due to too much copper tape, and that potentially one side of the copper tape wasn’t conducting through to the copper wire. However after trialing and inspecting the pen it became apparent that attaching the crocodile clip to the copper tape was the obvious solution and then worked perfectly. It later became obvious the copper wire was the problem having been told this.  After this Marc showed us the code he had written in processing to bring up the correct functions when buttons are pressed using the Makey Makey. Chris got to drawing up some icons and John to making a platform for the Makey Makey. I started wiring up the makey makey and adding a switch into the ‘click’ function allowing the winning move to light up the LED and show fireworks (with explosion sound effects) come up on the laptop. 

Trialing different options for buttons.

 Today after our lecture, we aimed to polish up our board game and have it ready to play for tomorrow. This included a lot of wiring, firstly outside the mount to make sure everything would work whilst it was still accessible. Then secondly I had the challenge of wiring everything up again inside the mount. As with everything on the project so far this required a recalculation. This time with the mount being too low. John added a further section for the Makey Makey to sit in on its own so the mount would rest flat. We had quite a few problems with this due to clips being too close to each other and therefore allowing the wrong function to be pressed, the LED not working as the wire to the output was not in tight enough. This was hard to isolate due to all the wiring being correct otherwise. We also added play dough to colour the foil buttons we had created so it is more obvious which button to press depending on what you land on.  Once all this was completed, I suggested we have a playthrough as if we hadn’t seen the game. This highlighted several problems. Firstly that we had condensed the categories from 5 to 3, and it wasn’t obvious that if you landed on red or orange you had to press red. I suggested adding a small piece of play dough into the corner of each space on the board with the corresponding colour of the button we should press. We also realised that we will have to include a small rulebook to explain  few of the game features (such as multiplay) that are confusing before the game had even been hacked. Finally we also have to add icons to the timer and reset functions.  All in all we have made great progress in this project and I feel I have come a long way in wiring circuits and finding solutions for problems. I am happy with the game we have created however we could potentially have aimed a little higher (more LED’s etc.). The only problem there however would’ve been the time constraint.  My biggest take away from this project so far I believe is failing is the first step towards a proper understanding and succeeding.

A soft circuit, checking for faults whilst keeping the wiring accessible.

The final board with all the wiring concealed.

Before we continued with the boardgames today, we had our second ‘Introduction to Creative Technologies’ class. We did a recap of last week, including our brainstorming technique, a chat about our Vlog assignment (I am yet to come up with any large ideas. So far I believe I will just be explaining what creative technologies meant to me when I applied & what it means now, having had a brief insight, and also a brief introduction to me ). We also talked over the reading that we did from Rich Golds - “The Plenitude” In which he talks of the ‘four creative hats’ he has worn. Drawing from personal experiences he likens Science, art, design and engineering together whilst saying they are also all massively different from one another. He references how science is actually incredibly creative, pointing towards the machines used in high tech labs.  Interestingly my takeaway from this chapter was that despite making several valid points I agree with, Mr. Gold had a bee in his bonnet about art, (fine art in particular) being on a more true and virtuous level than Design. Several of his points about design being controlled and judged by the client rather than peers making it different from art are contradicted by saying that Pop art is encapsulating what the wider audience is feeling and therefore they are actually very similar.  I did find this reading very interesting however and it really got me thinking! I do completely agree with the sentiment that, to really harness potential, collaboration across disciplines is crucial.

We then talked about what makes you ‘creative’, using the following:

Firstly Paradox. One of the two internal ways of being creative. I understood this as being completely open to ideas and not ever closing the possibility for change. Even if something seems certain, you have to aim to keep your mind open to the possibilities that there are ways to improve, change or manipulate what is black and white into something different.  The other sections of this visual are quite self explanatory and my biggest learn from here is that I should keep open to try and do new things, resist monotonous routine and bring this attitude to life into work. Why take the bus every day just because it worked the first time. By going a different way, who knows what you may stumble across!

Having thought about the phrase Creative Technologists work with:

Their hands,

their heads and

their hearts

to make the world a better place.

I believe this means a few things, and it is better understood when you look at the three parts collectively rather than separately. Creative Technologists have the power to take something they are passionate about, be it making a change or something they rave about (their hearts). Apply their (and their peers) knowledge to it (their heads), and paired with their hands, there is the power to take ideas out of the ideas phase and actually do something with them. The ability to act on a passion like this as well, rather than any random job provides a great drive.   The phrase I haven’t mentioned is, ‘to make the world a better place.’ This is because this phrase can mean so many different things. From the obvious of reducing carbon footprint, waste & helping with diseases to bringing joy through games & toys. Wherever the CTs passion falls within this spectrum is the area that they will try to make the world a better place.

We also looked today at a clip today (https://youtu.be/803LU4C_7IY?t=92) showing how many different opinions can be given on different projects. Where some will say, “useless!” whilst taking a step back there is likely a lot of value. Whilst this task may actually by definition have no use whatsoever when it was performed, and therefore useless, the learning and enjoyment brought actually does provide value. This is paired with what we looked at next in that Creative technologists have the ability to actually take an idea from its early stages & grow it into something physical. Even if you don’t know how at the beginning through failing and learning.

I have tried to cut down my entries today to slightly larger learning points, to save on extra long posts! There are many more points to add, and I have lots of work to do, such as trialing a new technique we learnt today (Affinity diagrams), Identifying some myths & barriers & reading the A-Z of CT to name a few bits!

Bring on studio tomorrow!

[fireandseaweed]

Build It Better || Jason and Percy

Jason and Percy work to rebuild a library that was ruined by the civil war.

Somehow, it felt amazing to be back to work again. Jason had felt stagnant as he had recovered from his injury, and while the physicians may have cleared him, his therapist kept cautioning him that a profound and permanent injury like losing his eye would take time to get over on the inside, even though the outside had healed. The Praetor in him had decided to ignore everyone’s advice and get back to work as soon as he was physically able to however, and the target of today’s efforts was a library that had been damaged by the civil war that was only tenuously over. A rustling behind him let him know that Percy had arrived, and Jason pushed his long blonde hair over half of his face as he turned to greet his friend, “I really hope you brought coffee.” His smile was apparent in his voice as he went to hug Percy, “Because I was out of pods at home and didn’t have time to swing by the store before I came here this morning. It’s good to see you, P…. well… to half-see you.” What was the point of being grievously maimed if you couldn’t joke about it?

The war had taken a toll on everything. Looking at Jason, it was clear to Percy that he was a living testament to the stress and damage that the war had caused to so many. “I brought more than enough to get us through the morning, we’ll have to restock in the afternoon but we can cross that bridge when we get to it.” He held out a thermos flask full of coffee. He’d made it to Jason’s taste as best he possibly could, knowing that they would need it to get through the trials that today would inevitably bring. Though Percy looked forward to tackling a challenge that wasn’t trying to run a sword through his stomach. “Well I know I don’t look half as amazing as always, I even did my hair for you.” He winked playfully at his friend, doing everything that he could to keep the air light. Despite Jason’s leaps forward in progress Percy was still fearful for his health. But he could bubble wrap the world for his friend. It just didn’t work like that. “Everyone else should start arriving soon, but they know what they’re doing, I don’t. So faithful comrade, what is our first task of the day?”

Jason couldn’t help but laugh at Percy’s preparedness and his jokes. He took the thermos thankfully and poured himself a glass from it, standing with his hand on his hip and looking at the semi-ruined building around them. “Well your hair looks amazing as always. You’re a vision of beauty. Aphrodite herself is jealous.” Taking a long sip of his coffee Jason shrugged, “Well… Hephaesteans are covering the actual construction of the rooms that need to be totally rebuilt. They’re much faster at it than I am, but you and I are doing interior work. There are shelves that need to be rebuilt and common areas to make welcoming again.” Long scarred fingers gestured to a far corner of the large room, “I was actually thinking we could start in the children’s section. We made them live through a civil war… the least we can do is put their library back together again for them.” Pulling a small notebook from his back pocket he opened it and passed it over to Percy, “We’ve got most of the furniture assembled already. I was just thinking we could build a couple low shelves for them, and then paint everything so it’s bright and welcoming.” Books had always held a soft spot in his heart, and he was eager to pass his love for them down to the younger generations. He cast a quick look around them to make sure nobody else was round and then pulled his long hair back into a low ponytail, keeping it out of his face. Percy had seen him lose his eye in realtime… surely the web of scarring that covered the left half of his face wouldn’t be too gruesome for him, “What’s new? We haven’t had a chance to catch up in awhile. I’ve missed it.”

Smiling at his reunion with his best friend in the world, Percy nodded and opened his own thermos. Steam rose from the black liquid and settled into the crisp chill of the early morning air. New Rome was never bitterly cold, but it could take on a pleasant fall chill. Pouring the obsidian coloured liquid into a travel mug, he carefully screwed everything back together Taking a long sip of very strong and very sugary coffee. Sighing somewhat contentedly as the bitter sweet taste settled on his palette, he nodded gently. “She has always been jealous I’m sure, two good looking demigods that remain outside of her reach must be infuriating.” He winked once more before turning to the task at hand. “Well, the children’s section seems as good a place as any to start with hermano, we can work around until we’ve fixed everything.” Pausing he scratched at his beard and shrugged. “Nothing new to report since the war came to a screeching halt, which is kind of nice. I like not having anything to say. Which is a weird thing to say.”

Jason tugged his loose flannel around him as they sat and savored the fall weather. Ancient magic and San Francisco’s natural weather endured they never saw snowfall but when the fog rolled in off the bay it could get chilly. It made the coffee doubly welcome. They wandered to the children’s corner and Jason set down his large box of tools, accumulated throughout his tenure as Pontifex. “That’s sort of nice though? To finally have nothing new. It seemed like every day was a new horror and now… some blessed silence.” He scratched at the blonde scruff on his cheeks, mimicking his friend as he traced a thin scar that marred the fuzz. “Tell your mom I’m sorry I haven’t gotten back to her email yet. I’ve been a little overwhelmed trying to catch up on everything that happened while I was gone trying to get put back together.” He laid the notebook with plans out on a table and started dragging pieces of wood, measuring and marking them carefully. “How are you doing though… since the war’s sorta stopped.”

Percy could never find it within himself to lament the cold weather, summer had always been his favourite time of year. The return to Camp Half Blood for a few months was always something that he savoured. “We certainly deserve it after everything that we’ve been through,” Percy replied with a nod as they strolled through the ruined and soon to be renovated building. Stepping through an arch, he crossed the room and joined Jason, sipping at his coffee as he walked. Pausing he smiled at what he remembered to be a charming space and hoped that they would be able to recreate it once more. “She won’t mind, she knows more or less the way things are... “ he remembered how relieved she’d looked to hear the news that they weren’t fighting anymore. Pacing over to the notebook, he carefully observed them before moving to help Jason move the wood, allowing his friend to mark them of his own accord. “Honestly, much better. Not constantly being on edge is a change that takes getting used to, but I like it, like a lot.”

“Damn straight we do. The Senate should fund a month long cruise for us with all the shit we just went through.” Jason had missed a lot while he’d withdrawn to recover, but he’d missed this most of all. The world felt right and balanced when he was with his best friend. He pulled Percy into a quick half hug as they walked before releasing him again, “Well tell her sorry anyway. She’s top of my priority list as soon as I get a spare moment.” They worked in quick harmony, Jason measuring and marking the boards and Percy sawing them. He listened carefully as Percy talked, smiling and nodding along. “I feel that. I know being that adrenaline fueled that constantly isn’t good for you. So I’m glad things are at least moving toward peace and calm. We needed that. Our society needs it. We’re too few under the shadow of too many threats to fight ourselves as well. Did I tell you I resigned my post?”

“There’s barely a senate left,” Percy replied remembering the five senators that remained after seven had been arrested for crimes against New Rome, “but perhaps after we’ve cleaned up the city and fixed the mess that we made then we can take a break. I’d love to go home.” He paused, thinking longingly about his mother’s apartment. Taking Gabby for walks through the park. “I’ll relay the message, she’ll undoubtedly take that as permission to give you an unwanted care package, so dibs on that.” He smirked as they moved wood in silence for a second before shrugging. “Especially after the last few wars, there are fewer of us than there have ever been before and it is unnerving to say the very least. We’re in a very vulnerable position right now. Our population used to be in five figures, we’re slipping dangerously close to four…” he winced at Jason’s news and sighed, “I’m sorry to hear that, and I’m sure that the city is sorry to hear it too.”

“We can seize the assets of the arrested senators and use those. We should anyway, to pay for the repairs to the city. High treason used to get you executed. They should count themselves lucky that we’re no longer enforcing that.” It was hard to keep the anger out of voice, and a tiny bolt of lightning bounced between his fingers and the measuring tape he was holding. Jason had seen too many good men and women buried because Senators had broken their sacred oath. “Perseus Jackson keep your dirty hands off my care package. If Sally “The Best Mom On Earth” Jackson makes me a care package I’m using absolutely everything in it. I’d never disrespect her like that.” He chuckled drily as they worked, shaking his head, “Like I told the Senate… the Republic may be immortal… but I am not. I’ve given enough to this city; blood, sweat, tears… I gave it a goddamn eye. I’m 23 years old and I’ve never had a life of my own. I deserve that now, and I think it’s time I started actually having the things I deserve. I had a lot of time to think while I was healing.”

“That’s hardly something that I can do,” Percy replied with a laugh, “I don’t think that the people of New Rome would be willing to accept me taking control of some of their assets.” He shrugged for a second and laughed. “I don’t favour the death penalty,” he replied with a sigh, “but everything that has gone on makes me wish that we could achieve a semblance of stability.” Smirking gently, he laughed. “I can’t make you any promises, a Sally Jackson care package isn’t something that I would be willing to give up. Not for the world.” His mother was a wonderful cook and her care packages were legendary. It had been too long since he had received one. “No one could ever expect you to give anymore, I’m glad that you’ve finally had the clarity of thought to rest and allow yourself to heal.” Dusting his hands off, he flicked through Jason’s notebook and began moving the marked pieces of wood over to a workbench. Grabbing a saw, he began cutting the shelves down to the appropriate dimensions. “It’s nice, getting to do something this mundane.”

“I didn’t say you could do it… I just think it should be done. We’re going to strain the coffers of the city rebuilding after a splinter group forced a civil war on us. Someone has to pay and it shouldn’t be the citizens whose lives were thrown into insanity.” Jason smiled broadly at his friend, laughing into the sunny emptiness of the library, “I will fight you, Jackson. I will absolutely fist fight you over your mother’s cookies. They’re worth it.” His own mother had been too far gone in mental illness by the time he could form memories of her and it was only after he’d met Sally that he realized what a mother was supposed to be like. “You say that, but the Senate seemed shocked. I’ll still be around to help, but I’m done leading. Let the young ones take over. While we’re talking about taking the things we know we deserve you need to start doing that as well. I know how hard you work. You need to rest just as much as I do.” He paused in his work and watched his friend cut boards down to size. “It was always my favorite part of my job. The building. It’s nice to do things with your hands. Simple things that will help people.”

“Maybe, but we’re hardly in the position of democratic strength that we would need to be to make that sort of movement, any attempt at grabbing Roman money would be met with resistance and speculation. It’s simply the truth I’m afraid.” Pausing for a moment longer, Percy smirked brightly before laughing with his friend. “Don’t try it Grace, you’re not going to win a fist fight when it comes to my mother’s cookies, they are the stuff of legend and I’ll love them until the day that I die.” Raising an eyebrow gently, Percy had to admit that he found it hard to believe that the former Praetor Jason Grace would ever step down from leading his people. “Are the young ones ready to take over yet?” he asked thoughtfully, “Have they had enough time to make the decisions that we are making right now? Will they make the right decisions?” He sighed gently, almost sadly. “I don’t know if I’m ready to let anyone handle that burden yet, I don’t think anyone is ready for it.” He paused and shrugged. “I always assumed that the flying would be your favourite part of the job if I’m honest…”

“I’m starting to see why the Republic turned back into the Empire. Though that’s how we end up with another Octavian. May he burn in Hell.” Seeing Percy laugh made Jason laugh and for a moment he forgot all about their trials. They were just two idiot friends fighting over cookies. “I’ve got a fucking handicap, Jackson! I deserve cookies! Plus if you’re gonna take advantage of my ability to use handicap parking now you bet your ass I’m taking the cookies.” The conversation turned serious and Jason sighed, moving from measuring wood to screwing it together when Percy had cut it. “Were we ready? How old were you when you saved the world for the first time. The second. The third. I don’t think you’re ready to make the decisions until you’re forced to make them. I can only hope I left them a good example.” He cringed slightly, fingers rising to his scarred face, “Honestly… I haven’t flown since the rescue mission.”

“I’m also starting to see why so many people are discontented with the fact that politics doesn’t work, maybe we should install you as emperor and use your new found power to bring about a new benevolent reign.” Percy laughed again, knowing that there was no chance that Jason would ever agree to anything like that. This entire scenario was absolutely insane and he should’ve known better. However part of him wished that they could take control of their own fates like that. However unethical it might be. “Just because you’ve got no depth perception doesn’t mean that I’m going to let you eat all of the fruits of my mother’s labour, those cookies are my birthright.” Pausing, Percy sighed sadly and shook his head. “Sure, we weren’t ready, but just because we had to do something really difficult doesn’t mean that we have to force the same upon our friends. We can at least help them into it first….” he sighed sadly, “Your flight was hardly to blame, there’s only so much you can do against siege weaponry.”

Jason couldn’t suppress the actual shudder that coursed through his body, “I’d sooner die… literally die… than be installed as Emperor. I don’t ever want that much responsibility or power. I hate so think about how it’d change me. “Just because I’ve got no depth perception… like it’s a mild thing… I LOST AN EYE FOR THIS WAR!” He laughed heartily, knowing Percy would end up giving him at least one cookie. He always did. “It also doesn’t mean we have to keep doing the difficult things if it’s getting to the point where it’s detrimental… which at least for me it feels like it is. I’ll always be around for people to come to for advice… I just don’t think I can be front and center anymore.” Waving his hand Jason went back to assembling the shelf. They’d had this fight several times in the hospital, “It doesn’t mean it wasn’t to blame either. But that’s beside the point.”

“Jason,” Percy pouted gently, a mischievous glint in his eye, “I can’t believe that you would ever speak like that, because that my friend is quitter talk right there. I know for a fact that my best friend, the great Jason Grace is no quitter.” Smirking gently, he laughed alongside his friend, doing his best to avoid daydreaming about the blue chocolate cookies that his mother had made him in his childhood. Nodding, Percy smiled. “I know you need out. If I’d been through half of what you had then I’d be right there with you. And I get that you want me to take a step back, and I gotta be honest with you J, I don’t think I can just yet. Soon. Once everything’s back to something resembling normal. But right now I think I can really make a difference.” He knew that Jason had. The war would’ve been a very different affair without the tactical mind of Jason Grace. Not to mention his rather thunderous abilities. “You should get back up there, you can’t stop riding a bike because you fell off one time.”

Percy’s pout was a weapon of impressive magnitude, but Jason had built up a resistance to it over the years, “I don’t quit many things. But I don’t think demigod life should ever be managed by one person with autocratic power. That’s just asking for disaster right there, and let’s be honest. We’ve endured enough disaster.” Their conversation took a serious tilt and Jason set down his tools, taking a moment to squeeze Percy’s shoulder, “I know. You always make a difference. That’s what you do you’re just… the quintessential leader… I just worry about you a lot. This life takes a toll on us and I think I”m just now realizing how grave that toll is.” One small shelf assembled, Jason set himself to sanding it down, making sure any rough edges were gone and the chance of any child getting a splinter was slim, “I will… eventually. It took a lot out of me trying to carry the four of us last time… So I think until I am permanently healed…. Or at least as healed as I’m going to be, I”m going to keep my feet on the ground.”

“Your father rules all of the gods with a relative fist of iron, I know there are some exceptions to that rule but for the most part is true. I’m just playing devil’s advocate but if anyone was going to be my Emperor then I would want it to be you over someone like a Karavadra or an Arcadi or one of the older Roman names,..” Percy paused for a moment “I don’t trust them, even now.” Pausing, Percy thought carefully about what he was coping with. Despite the war being over he slept less than he had before. Nightmares plagued his nights and he rarely slept more than six hours on a good night. On a bad night he had to make do with two or three. “I know I should step back and let someone else do the work, I know that I’m not the only one that could do it all but if I can make a difference then I feel like I should, I haven’t sustained what everyone else did, somehow I managed to avoid a mortal injury… so I can keep going…” he trailed off and shrugged as he continued slotting wooden beams into the appropriate slots that had been pre-carved into the wall. Carefully lining everything up, he too began sanding the wood down until it was smooth to the touch. A coat of varnish would need to be applied, but for now it would do. “I know you’re healing, but I would hate to see you grounded.” He wasn’t sure if it was necessarily comparable but he couldn’t imagine never swimming again. The idea that Jason hadn’t flown since the accident seemed alien.

“Any Emperor would be met with distrust by whichever ethnic group they didn’t belong to. The only autocratic way to govern New Rome would have to be with a pair of Regents. One Greek. One Roman.” It was an intellectual exercise he’d considered when it had been revealed that half the Senate had been committing treason, but ultimately Jason thought there was no way for any one or two people to ever rule New Rome without disaster befalling them. “I”m worried about you. I’m worried about all of us.. All the old generals. You, me, Frank, Annabeth, Hazel, Leo… I’m worried if we keep doing this for too long we’re going to lose out on ourselves. But as long as you think you’re doing okay, I’m okay with it too. Just know that anytime you need a couch to crash on for a night of mindless gaming and junk food… you’ve got a key to my place.” One shelf down, Jason moved onto making the next set, “I won’t be grounded permanently. I’m just… I’m not there yet. Soon. I promise. But I don’t think quite yet.”

“The senate obviously isn’t working,” Percy replied, “I don’t really believe that we would be better off with anyone installed as an autocracy in place of a democracy but at least things would be somewhat less complicated. Currently we live in a world filled with more danger than we know what to do with. I hadn’t realised how important politics was to that mix…” Pausing for a moment longer he tried to imagine a solution to this problem. But politics had never really been his area of expertise. He was a commander and general most importantly and first, everything else came after that and the ensured safety of his Greek and Roman friends. “I know that we are all vulnerable, this sort of thing really takes a toll. But my people, OUR people need me to help them and I know that if I didn’t then I would really regret it…” pausing for a moment, he reached up and scratched his beard thoughtfully. “I won’t forget your offer though, I plan to abuse it actually.” Nodding gently, Percy smirked and shrugged. “You’re no idiot, you know exactly what you’re doing.”

“I agree that the Senate isn’t working. If it’s so easy for over half of them to be corrupted to the point of trying to enact a genocide, clearly we need a better form of government. That being said…. I don’t know what we could do to substitute it.” Somehow even the discussion of these weighty topics didn’t weigh Jason down, and he thought it was probably that he was talking about them with Percy and not someone else. Everything seemed to be easier with his best friend around. “I know I know I know…” he waved a hand dismissively, “You’re ever the altruist and I’m ever the worrier. It’s the same song and dance we’ve been doing for years now.” He laughed and leaned over to brush some sawdust out of Percy’s beard, “You better, mountain man Jackson. I’ve got games that need playing and there’s pizza that needs eating.” Jason splayd his fingers, watching a tiny twister form in the piles of sawdust on the floor, “I know. But flight seems so intrinsically bound to the mission now that I’m having trouble divorcing the two. But… it’s a work in progress and yes before you ask it is something I’m talking to my therapist about.”

“I hope that we can work together to come up with something that meets everyone’s needs. Ideally something that includes both Romans and Greeks. I don’t see it working if we aren’t able to govern ourselves at least a little bit.” Percy ran a piece of sandpaper over the wood, carefully softening and sculpting it all into the way that he knew was best. Or at least that he hoped was best. In all honesty woodwork wasn’t his best arts and crafts at Camp Half Blood. “You don’t need to worry about me, it isn’t even a time of war anymore. Nasty words are the worst that I’ll have to deal with and considering no one is swinging a sword at me, that is certainly somewhat refreshing. I really appreciate it actually.” He smirked as he stepped back from his now completed shelf and moved onto the next task. “I won’t pry into this anymore if you don’t want me to, I just want you to get better. That’s all I’ve ever wanted.” Pausing for a moment, he hauled more wood and kept marking it off.

“Sometimes in the dark nights when it all looks like it’s going too much to shit I wonder if Hera really did the right thing, bringing our two peoples together. Don’t get me wrong, I wouldn’t trade my friendship with the Greeks for the world. But when things have been going poorly, they’ve been going catastrophically poorly. Is there a way for us to jointly govern that doesn’t end in civil war? I’d like to think so but I’m just not sure what it would be.” Jason arched his eyebrow, or at least attempted to; it had proven difficult to regain muscle control and he wasn’t always successful in his attempts to be incredulous via facial expression. “I will always worry about you. Always. Though I am thankful nobody’s trying to stab you anymore.” Stepping back, Jason looked at the shelves they’d assembled and smiled, a soft private expression representative of the happiness that creating instead of destroying brought him, “We should probably varnish these fuckers. Get them nice and ready to go.” He grabbed the can and popped it open with a screwdriver,  shrugging as he did, “I don’t keep secrets from you. It’s hard. Getting better. It still hurts sometimes and I still try to blink and nothing happens and I run into walls because I can’t quite judge how close I am yet. It’s a process, and I’m going along on it, slowly but surely. I’ll get better eventually, but you’re sweet to worry.”

“I wonder about the wisdom of every single decision that the God’s have ever made, we decide our lives and yet they still interfere. They tell us we all have a great fate and yet we are the ones that bleed and die for their wars.” Percy paused, rage had bubbled inside of him at the mere thought of the god’s interfering in his life. “I don’t think that changing things is an option. Gods you know that I wish there was a switch that we magically could’ve pressed to make things better. I just hope that there would be a real attempt to make things better.” Frowning gently, he sighed as he ran a piece of sandpaper over a corner that he wasn’t quite happy with yet. “Varnish them seems to be the next logical step,” he replied with a laugh as he watched his friend slide a screwdriver into the top of the can of varnish and opened it. “I’m not sweet to worry, you’re my best friend and I want to look after you as best I possibly can.” He paused a moment longer before sighing. “I just wish that we’d be able to make everything the way they were before all of this shit happened. We’re not closer to discovering who caused all of this. We’re not closer to doing anything but fixing this city. I just want to know it won’t get broken again.”

“Well… to be fair… I do not think a great many of their decisions are made with wisdom. They may be millenia old but they still have the decision-making skills of toddlers, and I’ll say that to any god’s face at this point.” Jason heaved a great rumble of a sigh as he carefully dipped a paintbrush into the can of varnish. “You’re very sweet to worry and I won’t let you forget that. Just because I”m your friend doesn’t mean much these days, but I appreciate the concern.” Percy’s sigh made him smile crookedly, “Well… I wouldn’t hate that. I’d certainly be a whole mess more handsome if we could pull that off, but, we can’t. So all we can do is try to rebuild and move forward as best we can and hope that the New Rome we’re leaving for these kids is better than the New Rome that was handed to us. Certainly less treasonous.”

“None of them would dare to do anything to you, especially considering who your father is, but then there’s also me and your sister to contend with.” Percy smirked gently, pausing for a moment longer before he kept working, “besides, isn’t being edgy all about criticising the authority that runs things?” He smirked once more and focussed on his brushwork. “We’re more than friends, we’ve been through so much, we’re brothers in arms and you know that gives us a bond that few will ever experience.” He sighed gently and slipped his hands into the can of varnish, his brush running along the grain of the wood as he did his best to evenly apply fine layers. Finally content with the work that he had done, he set down his brush and poured them two more mugs of coffee, handing one to Jason as he leaned against the wall to think. “It honestly feels better that we are helping, rather then killing. There’s been too much violence.” He laughed. “I feel like we can’t go five minutes without talking about the shit we’ve been through.”

“Yeah except maybe my father’s jealous wife who stole a bunch of my memories and stranded me across the country. You know… like one does to their stepchild.” Percy’s smirk made him chuckle, “I’m too old to be edgy, Jackson. Just get me my walker and my oatmeal and get me in bed by 8 and we’re all set.” watching Percy work carefully gave Jason a moment to pause and settle into the moment, a sensation extended when Percy paused as well and passed him a mug full of coffee, “Well… to be fair… the shit we’ve been through has been pretty much our whole lives for a couple months. Now that we no longer have to try to run a counter-offensive we can resume being normal people again. I did a lot of Netflix watching when I was recovering and it took some serious effort to convince myself it was okay to just sit. I didn’t have to be doing something all the time every minute.” He set his mug down and turned the shelf they’d just finished around, digging his pocket knife out of his jeans and carving his initials in the back of the shelf before passing the knife to Percy, “Come on. Right next to mine. When we’re long dead and gone at least this will still be around to prove we did more than wave swords around.”

“Don’t pout too much about that, you’re not the only one who had to put up with that. Besides, you ended up in the nice camp where they teach paper mache and feed you roasted meat 24/7.” Percy laughed before continuing. “I ended up in the Camp where they make you run marathons in full gear and you’re trained by a ravenous wolf she-goddess.” He smirked and shrugged once more. “I don’t even last till eight most days, seven thirty and I’m out like a light,” that wasn’t true at all. Percy rarely slept. Over the years the amount of sleep that he got had gotten less and less. “How have you managed to convince yourself of that?” he asked with a nervous chuckle, “I don’t remember the last time I was able to sit and do nothing but watch TV. I know it’s partially the ADHD, but I can’t do nothing. I have to be active in at least someway.” He sipped at the strong coffee before taking the pocket knife from his friend and carving P.J. into the wood. “We should draw a love heart,” he said as he began carving a rough heart around their names, “then everyone will know that we’re best friends forever.”

“Hey I was raised by a ravenous wolf she-goddess and I turned out mostly absolutely fine thank you very much! It isn’t my fault they coddle you guys with arts and crafts.” It sounded like a lie when it came out of Percy’s mouth, but Jason didn’t call him on it. Even between best friends there were some secrets and Jason didn’t burden Percy with his. Sleep was never given to demigods freely, they’d all learned to make due. “Well to be fair it was also the bed rest I was on where I couldn’t do too much or the doctors freaked out at me. Makes it pretty easy to just lay in bed and chill. But you know me. I fidgeted a lot.” He laughed as Percy drew the heart, tears streaming down his face, “No I think what they’ll think is that Jason Grace was dating way outside of his league.  But I’ll get you one of those split BFF necklaces if you want. We can match.”

[autolovecraft]

God, what a rage!

This arrangement could be ascended with a minimum of awkwardness, and would furnish the desired height. It may have been just fear, and it may have been mocking. In either case it would have been appropriate; for the unexpected tenacity of the easy-looking brickwork was surely a sardonic commentary on the vanity of mortal hopes, and the source of a task whose performance deserved every possible stimulus.

His head was broken in, and everything was tumbled about.

Great heavens, Birch, and I don't blame you for giving him a cast-aside coffin!

Finally he decided to lay a base of three parallel with the wall, to place upon this two layers of two each, and upon these a single box to serve as the platform. His drinking, of course, only aggravated what it was meant to alleviate.

The skull turned my stomach, but the bald fact of imprisonment so far from the daily paths of men was enough to exasperate him thoroughly. He could not walk, it appeared, and the emerging moon must have witnessed a horrible sight as he dragged his bleeding ankles toward the cemetery lodge; his fingers clawing the black mold in brainless haste, and his body responding with that maddening slowness from which one suffers when chased by the phantoms of nightmare. The practices I heard attributed to him would be unbelievable today, at least to such meager tools and under such tenebrous conditions as these, Birch glanced about for other possible points of escape. In time the hole grew so large that he ventured to try his body in it now and then, shifting about so that the coffins beneath him rocked and creaked. He was a bachelor, wholly without relatives. Never did he knock together flimsier and ungainlier caskets, or disregard more flagrantly the needs of the rusty lock on the tomb door which he slammed open and shut with such nonchalant abandon. But it would be well to say as little as could be said, and to let no other doctor treat the wounds. The hungry horse was neighing repeatedly and almost uncannily, and he planned to save the stoutly built casket of little Matthew Fenner for the top, in order that his feet might have as certain a surface as possible. His drinking, of course, only aggravated what it was meant to alleviate.

His drinking, of course, only aggravated what it was meant to alleviate. As he planned, he could not shake clear of the unknown grasp which held his feet in relentless captivity.

The vault had been dug from a hillside, so that it was possible to give all of Birch's inanimate charges a temporary haven in the single antiquated receiving tomb. In time the hole grew so large that he ventured to try his body in it now and then, shifting about so that the coffins beneath him rocked and creaked.

Being without superstition, he did not heed the day at all; so that he was wise in so doing. Then he fled back to the lodge and broke all the rules of his calling by rousing and shaking his patient, and hurling at him a year ago last August … He was the devil incarnate, Birch, and I believe his eye-for-an-eye fury could beat old Father Death himself. In this funereal twilight he rattled the rusty handles, pushed at the iron panels, and wondered why the massive portal had grown so suddenly recalcitrant. Tired and perspiring despite many rests, he descended to the floor and sat a while on the bottom step of his grim device, Birch cautiously ascended with his tools and stood abreast of the narrow transom.

He would not, he found, have to pile another on his platform to make the proper height; for the unexpected tenacity of the easy-looking brickwork was surely a sardonic commentary on the vanity of mortal hopes, and the company beneath his feet, he philosophically chipped away the stony brickwork; cursing when a fragment hit him in the face, and laughing when one struck the increasingly excited horse that pawed near the cypress tree.

He had not forgotten the criticism aroused when Hannah Bixby's relatives, wishing to transport her body to the cemetery in the city whither they had moved, found the casket of Judge Capwell beneath her headstone. On the afternoon of Friday, April 15th, then, Birch set out for the tomb with horse and wagon to transfer the body of Matthew Fenner. It was generally stated that the affliction and shock were results of an unlucky slip whereby Birch had locked himself for nine hours in the receiving tomb of Peck Valley Cemetery, escaping only by crude and disastrous mechanical means; but while this much was undoubtedly true, there were other and blacker things which the man used to whisper to me in his drunken delirium toward the last. Most distinctly Birch was lax, insensitive, and was concerned only in getting the right coffin for the platform; for no sooner was his full bulk again upon it than the rotting lid gave way, jouncing him two feet down on a surface which even he did not get Asaph Sawyer's coffin by mistake, although it was very similar. Birch had felt no compunction in assigning the carelessly made coffin which he now pushed out of the way in his quest for the Fenner casket. I'll never get the picture out of my head as long as I live. He could not walk, it appeared, and the company beneath his feet, he philosophically chipped away the stony brickwork; cursing when a fragment hit him in the face, and laughing when one struck the increasingly excited horse that pawed near the cypress tree. His day's work was sadly interrupted, and unless chance presently brought some rambler hither, he might have to remain all night or longer. Instinct guided him in his wriggle through the transom, and in the crawl which followed his jarring thud on the damp ground. Steeled by old ordeals in dissecting rooms, the doctor entered and looked about, stifling the nausea of mind and body that everything in sight and smell induced. He worked largely by feeling now, since newly gathered clouds hid the moon; and though progress was still slow, he felt heartened at the extent of his encroachments on the top and bottom of the aperture, he sought to drain from the weakened undertaker every least detail of his horrible experience. Dusk fell and found Birch still toiling. In the semi-gloom he trusted mostly to touch to select the right one, and indeed came upon it almost by accident, since it tumbled into his hands as if through some odd volition after he had unwittingly placed it beside another on the third layer. Birch had felt no compunction in assigning the carelessly made coffin which he now pushed out of the enlarged transom; but gathered his energies for a determined try. An eye for an eye! Several of the coffins began to split under the stress of handling, and he did not heed the day at all; so that he was wise in so doing. He always remained lame, for the great tendons had been severed; but I think the greatest lameness was in his soul. As he remounted the splitting coffins he felt his weight very poignantly; especially when, upon reaching the topmost one, he heard that aggravated crackle which bespeaks the wholesale rending of wood. Then the doctor came with his medicine-case and asked crisp questions, and removed the patient's outer clothing, shoes, and socks. And so the prisoner toiled in the twilight, heaving the unresponsive remnants of mortality with little ceremony as his miniature Tower of Babel rose course by course.

Certainly, the events of that evening greatly changed George Birch. Birch, and I don't blame you for giving him a cast-aside coffin, but you always did go too damned far! He had not forgotten the criticism aroused when Hannah Bixby's relatives, wishing to transport her body to the cemetery in the city whither they had moved, found the casket of Judge Capwell beneath her headstone. In time the hole grew so large that he ventured to try his body in it now and then, shifting about so that the narrow ventilation funnel in the top ran through several feet of earth, making this direction utterly useless to consider. The practices I heard attributed to him would be unbelievable today, at least in a city; and even Peck Valley would have shuddered a bit had it known the easy ethics of its mortuary artist in such debatable matters as the ownership of costly laying-out apparel invisible beneath the casket's lid, and the emerging moon must have witnessed a horrible sight as he dragged his bleeding ankles toward the cemetery lodge; his fingers clawing the black mold in brainless haste, and his aching arms rested by a pause during which he sat on the bottom box to gather strength for the final wriggle and leap to the ground outside. Great heavens, Birch, but you knew what a little man old Fenner was.

Better still, though, he would utilize only two boxes of the base to support the superstructure, leaving one free to be piled on top in case the actual feat of escape required an even greater altitude. An eye for an eye! I'll never get the picture out of my head as long as I live. It may have been fear mixed with a queer belated sort of remorse for bygone crudities. As he remounted the splitting coffins he felt his weight very poignantly; especially when, upon reaching the topmost one, he heard that aggravated crackle which bespeaks the wholesale rending of wood. It is doubtful whether he was touched at all by the horror and exquisite weirdness of his position, but the bald fact of imprisonment so far from the tomb. He was curiously unelated over his impending escape, and almost dreaded the exertion, for his form had the indolent stoutness of early middle age. Most distinctly Birch was lax, insensitive, and professionally undesirable; yet I still think he was not an evil man.

I suppose one should start in the cold December of 1880, when the ground froze and the cemetery delvers found they could dig no more graves till spring.

I've seen sights before, but there was one thing too much here. In this funereal twilight he rattled the rusty handles, pushed at the iron panels, and wondered why the massive portal had grown so suddenly recalcitrant. Most distinctly Birch was lax, insensitive, and professionally undesirable; yet I still think he was not perfectly sober, he subsequently admitted; though he had not then taken to the wholesale drinking by which he later tried to forget certain things.

Davis died. Birch cautiously ascended with his tools and stood abreast of the narrow transom. Only the coffins themselves remained as potential stepping-stones, and as he considered these he speculated on the best mode of transporting them. His questioning grew more than medically tense, and his hands shook as he dressed the mangled members; binding them as if he wished to get the wounds out of sight as quickly as possible. Certainly, the events of that evening greatly changed George Birch. Birch?

[thisdaynews]

Rugby World Cup 2019: Wales lay 2011 ghosts to keep Warren Gatland era alive

New Post has been published on https://thebiafrastar.com/rugby-world-cup-2019-wales-lay-2011-ghosts-to-keep-warren-gatland-era-alive/

Rugby World Cup 2019: Wales lay 2011 ghosts to keep Warren Gatland era alive

Sebastien Vahaamahina’s red card was the first in a World Cup knockout match since Sam Warburton’s dismissal in 2011

Logic pointed to nothing other than a Wales win – but logic does not often apply to Wales at the World Cup.

Their hearts had been broken too many times to be overly confident, even if form, world ranking and all other measurable factors suggested they would beat France comfortably.

History’s pain kept Welsh complacency at bay, the most agonising episode of all being the 2011 semi-final loss to France.

Despite having to play almost an entire match with 14 men because of Sam Warburton’s red card, Wales still could have won, and to lose by a single point only deepened their grief in New Zealand.

Eight years on in Japan, they exorcised those demons with a near mirror image of events in Auckland.

This time it was France who saw red – Sebastien Vahaamahina inexplicably elbowing Aaron Wainwright – and now it was Les Bleus who had to suffer the anguish of a one-point defeat.

Wales into semi-finals with thrilling France win

Vahaamahina red card ‘clear’ – France coach Brunel

Davies could be fit for World Cup semi-final

Captain Alun Wyn Jones and George North were the only Wales players to play in both matches, while Maxime Medard was France’s sole survivor.

But despite the changes in personnel, Wales head coach Warren Gatland said in the build-up to this rematch that his players were using the hurt of 2011 as a source of inspiration.

“I think for the players and coaches that were involved in 2011, that is an advantage in terms of preparation and remembering about that,” he said afterwards.

“It is ironic the last time we were in a World Cup there was a red card and it was a one-point game as well.

“We did not play our best but we showed some character, and that is testament to this group of men – we can be excited about looking forward to a semi-final.”

Gatland avoids an early end to his reign

Wales celebrate Ross Moriarty’s game-winning try against France

That excitement is justified. For all the pre-tournament talk of this being Wales’ best chance yet to win a first World Cup, this will only be their third semi-final.

Wales lost the other two – in 1987 and 2011 – so they will savour next Sunday’s meeting with South Africa, and nobody more so than Gatland.

The New Zealander will step down as head coach at the end of this World Cup and, for 75 minutes in Oita, it looked like his glittering 12-year reign would come to an early and ignominious end.

“You start going through a lot of different emotions,” Gatland said, admitting that he thought this might be it.

“What I am going to be saying in here [to the media at his post-match conference], what I am going to be saying on the television – you are thinking on those potential scenarios.

“France played exceptionally well and they have made a lot of progress over the last five months.

“I definitely went through a lot of emotions today but coming in at half-time and getting some clear messages to the players about what we were going to do in the second half [was important].

“I am proud of the players and how we hung in there.”

Those players were not going to allow Gatland – arguably Wales’ greatest coach – to leave on such a flat note.

Having trailed 12-0 early on, Wales were 19-10 down at half-time but, despite continuing to play poorly by their own recent high standards, they found a way to win.

This is what Wales do under Gatland.

Media playback is not supported on this device

France win ‘highlight of my career’ – Watkin

They were 16-0 down away against France at half-time in their opening Six Nations fixture in February, and yet they fought back to win 24-19 and set the ball rolling for a third Grand Slam of the Gatland era.

In Paris that evening, Gatland said his team had “forgotten how to lose”.

That fortitude was evident in another comeback victory during that campaign at home to England, and it has been there for the world to see in Japan as Wales withstood a fierce Australian revival in Tokyo and then overcame an explosive start from Fiji to prevail in Oita.

They had to delve into that deep well of resolve once more upon their return to Oita to face France.

Wales were not once in the lead until Dan Biggar’s match-winning conversion from Ross Moriarty’s try in the 75th minute, itself a play within a play, a tale of redemption for Moriarty, whose first-half sin-binning had cost his side seven points.

Even if their form had deserted them, Wales never lacked belief.

They stuck to their task unerringly. Although France had not played for two weeks, they were tiring after Vahaamahina’s red card.

By contrast, Wales, who pride themselves on being one of the fittest teams in the world, seemed to get stronger as time wore on.

“We’ve prepared for this. We’ve been to some dark places in the preparation for these moments and games,” captain Alun Wyn Jones said.

“The weeks and days do feel a little bit longer obviously because of the magnitude of the occasion coming up.

“Physically, this is what we’ve prepared for and we’re ready to go for the next one.”

A World Cup a decade in the making

Media playback is not supported on this device

Watch: Wales into semi-finals & South Africa end Japan’s World Cup run

Wales have been planning for this World Cup for years, and those preparations have been particularly focused over the past 18 months.

Last year’s summer tour of the United States and Argentina helped build strength in depth, with debuts for players such as Wainwright, man of the match against France and now a first-team regular.

Then there was the clean sweep of last autumn’s Tests – including victories over Australia and South Africa – and this year’s Six Nations Grand Slam, all of which contributed to a record winning run of 14 matches.

Wales’ players then started convening for World Cup training as far back as May, before embarking on gruelling training camps at altitude in the Swiss Alps and then in the searing heat of Turkey.

The planning has been meticulous, a World Cup years in the making.

When Jones was asked about the extent of Welsh preparations, he said Gatland had probably been mapping out this campaign for the past 10 years.

Now that decade boils down to two matches: a semi-final followed by what everyone involved hopes will be a final, rather than a third-place play-off.

“We’re excited about being where we are. We’re in a semi-final of a World Cup,” Gatland said.

“Alun Wyn has been saying that we have 240 minutes to do something you’ll remember for the rest of your life.

“We’re down to 160 now, if you can’t get excited about that, nothing will excite you.”

Read More

[theuniversitychallengereview]

Episode 23 - Oriel, Ox vs Bristol

2016, the year that became a meme and an adjective, has come to its logical conclusion after 366 days (it was a leap year too, people tend to forget that) and three weeks on from Balliol’s thrashing of Robinson College we have our first match of the new one (2017, for those of you unfamiliar with linear chronology)

Under normal circumstances, three weeks without UC might have been like being trapped in a darkened maze, constantly moving but with no idea how many hedges you’re going to bump into. But the BBC kindly provided us with a torch to help minimise the number of leaves in our collective hair.

I considered reviewing the Christmas series, but a combination of food lethargy and G&T energy would have rendered anything written somewhere between the manuscript of a Trump speech (in terms of coherence not content) and an Elvish translation of Lord of the Rings.

But having finally caught up with the final today I can see that I would have been writing pretty much the same thing every episode (and yes, I know thats basically what I do here). Paxman, who’s had his reptilian tongue sheathed for large portions of the student series, had his work cut out dealing with these supposed graduates who didn’t quite seem to grasp the rules.

Not an episode went by without at least one blatant attempt at conferring on a starter question. Occasionally one contestant would hold a palm up to a conspiratorial neighbour, “Talk to the hand, because it would literally be illegal for the face to listen”, but generally Paxman had to shut them down with an exasperated cry of “SOLO EFFORTS, PLEASE!”, before any illicit answers could be shared.

And thats not to mention the epidemic of people buzzing in to answer bonus questions, which while not strictly against the rules was just a bit bizarre. Paxman dutifully recites the rules at the start of the show and I’m sure some of them must have seen the show before so I don’t know whats so hard to understand. I don’t think I’ve ever seen it in the student show, but these old jokers couldn’t get enough of it.

The series wasn’t totally filled with gaffs though, and we saw what I, and others in the UC Twitter community believe to have been the first all female match in the history of the Challenge as St Anne’s took on St Hilda’s in the semi finals. And when St Hilda’s, lead by Val McDiarmid defeated Leeds in the final we had our first ever all female series champions.

I said in a previous edition that the lack of female representation on the student series could be attributed in part to a lack of women attending the trials for their institutions, but hopefully St Hilda’s victory can inspire more people to sign up and bring us closer to the (slightly) improved ratio seen on this celebrity series. 

However, reading through the University Challenge hashtag on Twitter there was an atrocious number of vulgar and derogatory comments aimed mainly at Bristol’s superb captain Alice Clarke. I think its fair to assume that the type of person who’d be interested in going on UC would be the type of person to watch it. And if you were to watch the show and see an excellent performance from a woman only to go on the internet and read such horrible comments completely irrelevant to said performance its not exactly going to make it seem like an appealing thing to put yourself through.

Obviously there were a great deal of positive posts as well, but its far easier to discourage than it is to encourage, so I encourage you to call out the heinousness if you ever come across it. Its a small drop in a big ocean, but with enough stones waves can be made.

Clarke and her Bristol quartet were last seen in the far reaches of Summer, when David Cameron was still Prime Minister, and a lot has changed since their convincing victory over Sheffield in July, in which they scored the equal third highest score of the round. Oxfordian opponents Oriel dispatched a mediocre Manchester side with efficiency while not exactly setting the world alight. They’ll be hoping for some fireworks if they’re to progress.

Paxman introduced Oriel with reference to an incorrect answer of Cole Porter their Rasputin lookalike Alec Siantonas had made in the first round. He was obviously so appalled that it affected him long after it had been made. 

And I don’t know if someone told Siantonas’ neighbour Monaghan that school uniform was required in the second round but he turned up in an Oriel hoodie.

The attire didn’t help them out to begin with as Bristol raced into a 50-0 lead thanks to starters from Rolleston and Tomsett, giving Oriel something to chase if they hoped to reach the quarter finals. 

University Challenge prides itself on its highbrow question selections, but even if you don’t pay that much attention you can see that the range is fairly narrow. In literature, if you brushed up on Dickens, Austen and Shakespeare (admittedly no small task) you’d have a fairly decent chance of getting questions on them, and getting those questions right. Perhaps a greater variety, on all topics too, would add an extra pinch of spice to proceedings.

In addition, if a starter question on South America were to be incorrectly answered with Brazil, then all the other team need to to snatch it would be to buzz in nonchalantly with Argentina and they’d receive ten points, unless for example the question asked which country Quito was the capital of.

Conversely, I’ll discuss an answer which hasn’t come up on UC very often: ‘gymnosperm’. The final of the Christmas series had a bonus set on a Washington Post competition which assigns new meanings to existing words (e.g Flatulance: an emergency vehicle that picks you up after you’ve been run over by a steam roller). A gymnosperm is a plant of a group that comprises those that have seeds unprotected by an ovary or fruit, but in the spirit of the WP contest I’d like to suggest a neologism of my own - gymnosperm: a bodybuilder who has reduced their fertility through the use of steroids (someone please tell me if this works, or if its just a bit strange)

Bristol continued their good start, and Oriel did offer some resistance up until just after the halfway point, when the scores were at 75-150, leaving them with a slight chance at resurrection, but Bristol slammed that door shut, routing the Oxford quartet 115 to -5 in the closing moments. They look a team to be reckoned with in the quarter finals, with the highest combined total of the seven teams to reach that stage so far.

Final Score: Bristol 265 - 70 Oriel

Congrats to Bristol, and commiserations to Oriel, who can their heads high, though not too high. Next week we have Corpus Christi vs Peterhouse in the last second round before the first QF match, which if my prediction is correct promises to be a cracker. Thanks for reading

[pricelessmomentblog]

I’m 30

Every year, for the last twelve years, I’ve done a birthday post. These posts summarize what’s happened in my life over the last year, as well as my thoughts about the future.

This year was a big one for me, more than just rolling into a new decade. I got married. I signed a book deal. I spent ten days at a silent meditation retreat. My team and I developed a new course, which should be ready in September.

More than just these milestones, however, this year has taught me quite a few things, as well as shown me how much more I still have to learn.

Things I’ve Learned (and am Still Learning)

1. Anxiety and Perfectionism with High-Stakes Creative Projects

The major project for me this year was writing a book. I had wanted to write a book about ultralearning for a few years, and now finally felt like the right time.

I knew from the start that I wanted to do something different from my previous self-published ebooks. I wanted it to be driven more by stories other than my own, and be backed up by more scientific research and less my own experiences and opinions.

On the one hand, this is good. The higher standards have pushed me in a lot of ways to produce better writing, that I wouldn’t have gotten on its own.

The downside was also that I felt a lot of anxiety about my own performance at times. I often got stuck, either because I wasn’t sure what direction to take, or because my own fears about how the book would turn out meant it was easy to avoid working on it.

This was a new experience for me. In the past, whenever I’ve felt pressure on projects, they’ve tended to push me forward rather than hold me back. In the beginning of the MIT Challenge, when I was most uncertain about meeting the deadline, the pressure forced me to work very hard to make it. Similarly, when studying languages, any doubts I had about reaching the goals I had set made me want to work even harder.

I think the difference owes to the different dynamics of the tasks. With many learning goals, the solution to anxiety about performance is simply to do more practice. Same is true with a lot of business goals, where worries about meeting a target are best soothed by working harder at it.

In creative tasks, however, there’s a risk that making an early mistake in how you structure something, or choices about how to handle certain things, can become embedded into the structure later. In these situations, the result can be paralyzing because added anxiety forces you to stop and think rather than push forward bravely.

My previous ebooks and courses rarely felt this level of pressure, because in my mind, I was mostly writing to my own audience, with no real expectations of mainstream success. However, with an agent, advance, publisher expectations and my own internal ideas of what I wanted to accomplish, it was harder to de-escalate those expectations that led to feelings of perfectionism.

I’m not sure I have a solution to this issue yet, but I suspect as I go further, and the stakes become higher for projects I’m working on, it’s going to be a problem that will get worse if I don’t find a good workaround.

2. Switching From Solo to Team

In the past, I did nearly everything by myself. That meant, when I started a big project, I simply stopped doing a lot of other work. It might require some choices, but coordination was fairly easy because things simply had to be done in sequence.

Now, my business has grown and there are around a dozen people I work with regularly, including a few full-time employees. On the one hand, this is an amazing benefit. I can focus on the things I’m good at, and not need to worry about being great at the things I’m not.

On the other hand, individual productivity is different from team productivity. It’s no longer simply a matter of picking projects and working through them sequentially, but trying to time my involvement in multiple, concurrent projects. This is a lot trickier to do, and I’m still figuring it out.

One of the big mistakes I made this year was a failure to organize these schedules. In addition to writing my book, my team and I also developed a new course. The downside was that the busy periods for the book and course often coincided. This meant periods where it was difficult to decide where to focus because both were demanding my attention.

In the future, I’m going to have to be more careful about scheduling projects so that the intense times for projects don’t overlap so much.

What’s Next?

I still have a month to go before I hand in my manuscript for my book. After that, there will be at least a year of editing, finalizing, printing and marketing. So, in some senses, the major efforts of my next year or so have already been decided.

However, I expect that once the full-time writing stretch ends, my life is going to be a little more open, so there’s going to be more opportunities for new things. Here are some of the things I’ve been thinking about that I want to work on:

1. Flexible Habits

The busyness of the past year have pushed me to explore different ways of thinking about my habits and the ways I want to do things in my life.

In the past, if I wanted to set up a good habit—say going to the gym, meditating or learning Chinese—I’d simply put effort into making that my priority and including a chunk of time each day towards it. Going to the gym 3-4x per week for an hour or so has been a long-term habit for me for a decade or more.

However, lots of large, clunky habits can be difficult to fit into my schedule. This creates inconsistencies with how those habits are applied, and sometimes, can lead to them slipping.

These days, I’ve found a lot of success with setting up quite minimal habits. Things that are probably insufficient for my goals, but if done every day as a background activity, they also prevent things from getting too out of hand if the clunkier habits slip a little.

Six months ago, for instance, I set the habit of doing fifty push-ups a day. I’m happy to say that in that time period, I’ve only missed one day of the habit.

The habit works well because it works in almost any circumstances. I even did some after my wedding because I had forgotten to finish them in the morning. Going for a workout in the gym, in that case, would have become incredibly difficult.

The success of this habit and a few others I had started, have made me think more about establishing a few baseline habits for areas of life which are important to me, and can run in the background essentially forever, no matter how busy I am, where I am in the world or how I’m feeling.

2. Making Travel a Priority

I’ve traveled quite a bit, and in the past, travel has been something I’ve done in bursts, for long stretches of a time. I did one year in France in university. I did another year around the world, several years ago. Between those times, I’ve been on plenty of month-long or multi-week trips.

These days, long bursts of travel are harder to schedule. This is going to be even more true if my business grows or I have kids.

Yet, travel is something that’s important to me. Not as a vacation, but as a goal of expanding my understanding of the world, different cultures and ideas. I see travel, done properly, as being akin to reading books in offering windows into different aspects of life and the world. Just as reading is important to me, beyond just leisure, so is travel. The solution here is that I need to start planning for trips longer in advance, and fitting them into my schedule ahead of time. Waiting until I have some downtime was an approach I used to take, but as my work has expanded, those downtime moments evaporate much more rapidly.

3. New Ultralearning Projects

Although I don’t always write about it, I’m always spending time learning new things. The ultralearning projects I’ve done are something different, investing a focused burst of time to accomplish something big. 

I like the ultralearning projects because they allow me to make progress on something I care about but haven’t been able to devote enough time to. They are also helpful for pushing through obstacles that make casual practice less enjoyable. A big motivation for my most recent portrait drawing challenge was that I was too bad at it to enjoy it in the beginning, yet it was a skill I thought I’d like to develop.

I’d like to do another ultralearning project, but I haven’t decided on exactly when or what topic.

Some ideas I’ve had include:

Trying to deeply learn some professional skill, with perhaps the side-goal of turning it into a functioning freelance business by the end.

Chess. In particular, I thought this might be interesting because the whole process could be live-streamed, unlike my previous projects which function with semi-regular updates.

Art or music. Painting, guitar, photography, animation or something similar might be interesting skills to work on. They also are easier to demonstrate, which makes them more fun as a project.

Something academic. There’s a lot of academic topics I’ve wanted to build skills in. Statistics, machine learning, quantum physics and neuroscience are all possibilities.

The only project I’ve contemplated seriously yet is trying to combine an extra push of language learning with the release of my book. I was thinking about possibly going to some of the countries where the book is being translated and released, and give some speeches about it and answer questions in those languages.

This last goal is a tricky one though, because if I limit myself just to rehearsing a prepared speech, this is something I can almost certainly do with enough practice in any of the languages. However, responding to live Q&A is quite difficult, even in languages I’m best at, so defining the scope of the challenge will be tricky.

Final Thoughts

I’ve been writing for a long time, so in many ways my writing here is a less a snapshot of my opinions, but an evolution from who I was when I was 17 until today.

In some ways, I feel like time has vindicated some of my philosophy. I managed to build a successful business, marry the woman of my dreams, have adventures and live a happy and comfortable life. Those things weren’t true when I started, so in some ways, it has felt good that some of my original ideas turned out to be good ones, even if that wasn’t clear at the time.

In other ways, though, my views on anything being the right “answer” for how to live life have become a lot more tenuous. I used to hold fairly rigid opinions about what was the right way to approach things. Now, I’ve come to see that there are many different ways one can approach life, quite different from how I approach mine, that are also valid. Different perspectives have their own benefits and disadvantages, but I’m less inclined to believe mine is the only way, or necessarily the best for everyone.

This fact itself puts me in an interesting place with my writing. On the one hand, I feel like I have some useful strategies and approaches to life to share. On the other, I’m more aware of the diversity of different ways to live and how those might involve doing the exact opposite of what I suggest for certain people in certain situations.

I guess I feel that the value of my writing is that, for those who feel that the approach resonates with them, that I can offer some thoughts on how to get more of it. For those taking a different path, there’s no problem with not following my approach.

Thanks for reading this past year, I look forward to sharing more with you in the next one!

I’m 30 syndicated from https://pricelessmomentweb.wordpress.com/

[latestnews2018-blog]

SmartArm’s AI-powered prosthesis takes the prize at Microsoft’s Imagine Cup

New Post has been published on https://latestnews2018.com/smartarms-ai-powered-prosthesis-takes-the-prize-at-microsofts-imagine-cup/

SmartArm’s AI-powered prosthesis takes the prize at Microsoft’s Imagine Cup

A pair of Canadian students making a simple, inexpensive prosthetic arm have taken home the grand prize at Microsoft’s Imagine Cup, a global startup competition the company holds yearly. SmartArm will receive $85,000, a mentoring session with CEO Satya Nadella, and some other Microsoft goodies. But they were far from the only worthy team from the dozens that came to Redmond to compete.

The Imagine Cup is an event I personally look forward to, because it consists entirely of smart young students, usually engineers and designers themselves (not yet “serial entrepreneurs”) and often aiming to solve real-world problems.

In the semi-finals I attended, I saw a pair of young women from Pakistan looking to reduce stillbirth rates with a new pregnancy monitor, an automated eye-checking device that can be deployed anywhere and used by anyone, and an autonomous monitor for water tanks in drought-stricken areas. When I was their age, I was living at my mom’s house, getting really good at Mario Kart for SNES and working as a preschool teacher.

Even Nadella bowed before their ambitions in his appearance on stage at the final event this morning.

“Last night I was thinking, ‘What advice can I give people who have accomplished so much at such a young age?’ And I said, I should go back to when I was your age and doing great things. Then I realized…I definitely wouldn’t have made these finals.”

That got a laugh, but (with apologies to Nadella) it’s probably true. Students today have unbelievable resources available to them and as many of the teams demonstrated, they’re making excellent use of those resources.

SmartArm in particular combines a clever approach with state of the art tech in a way that’s so simple it’s almost ridiculous.

The issue they saw as needing a new approach is prosthetic arms, which as they pointed out are often either non-functional (think just a plastic arm or simple flexion-based gripper) or highly expensive (a mechanical arm might cost tens of thousands). Why can’t one be both?

Their solution is an extremely interesting and timely one: a relatively simply actuated 3D-printed forearm and hand that has its own vision system built in. A camera built into the palm captures an image of the item the user aims to pick up, and quickly classifies it — an apple, a key ring, a pen — and selects the correct grip for that object.

The user activates the grip by flexing their upper arm muscles, an action that’s detected by a Myo-like muscle sensor (possibly actually a Myo, but I couldn’t tell from the demo). It sends the signal to the arm to activate the hand movement, and the fingers move accordingly.

It’s still extremely limited — you likely can’t twist a doorknob with it, or reliably grip a knife or fork, and so on. But for many everyday tasks it could still be useful. And the idea of putting the camera in the palm is a high-risk, high-reward one. It is of course blocked when you pick up the item, but what does it need to see during that time? You deactivate the grip to put the cup down and the camera is exposed again to watch for the next task.

Bear in mind this is not meant as some kind of serious universal hand replacement. But it provides smart, simple functionality for people who might otherwise have had to use a pincer arm or the like. And according to the team, it should cost less than $100. How that’s possible to do including the arm sensor is unclear to me, but I’m not the one who built a bionic arm so I’m going to defer to them on this. Even if they miss that 50 percent it would still be a huge bargain, honestly.

There’s an optional subscription that would allow the arm to improve itself over time as it learns more about your habits and objects you encounter regularly — this would also conceivably be used to improve other SmartArms as well.

As for how it looks — rather robotic — the team defended it based on their own feedback from amputees: “They’d rather be asked, ‘hey, where did you get that arm?” than ‘what happened to your arm?’ ” But a more realistic-looking set of fingers is also under development.

The team said they were originally looking for venture funding but ended up getting a grant instead; they’ve got interest from a number of Canadian and American institutions already, and winning the Imagine Cup will almost certainly propel them to greater prominence in the field.

My own questions would be on durability, washing, and the kinds of things that really need to be tested in real-world scenarios. What if the camera lens gets dirty or scratched? Will there be color options for people that don’t want to have white “skin” on their arm? What’s the support model? What about insurance?

SmartArm takes the grand prize, but the runners up and some category winners get a bunch of good stuff too. I plan to get in touch with SmartArm and several other teams from the competition to find out more and hear about their progress. I was really quite impressed not just with the engineering prowess but the humanitarianism and thoughtfulness on display this year. Nadella summed it up best:

“One of the things that I always think about is this competition in some sense ups the game, right?” he said at the finals. “People from all over the world are thinking about how do I use technology, how do i learn new concepts, but then more importantly, how do I solve some of these unmet, unarticulated needs? The impact that you all can have is just enormous, the opportunity is enormous. But I also believe there is an amazing sense of responsibility, or a need for responsibility that we all have to collectively exercise given the opportunity we have been given.”

[theinvinciblenoob]

A pair of Canadian students making a simple, inexpensive prosthetic arm have taken home the grand prize at Microsoft’s Imagine Cup, a global startup competition the company holds yearly. SmartArm will receive $85,000, a mentoring session with CEO Satya Nadella, and some other Microsoft goodies. But they were far from the only worthy team from the dozens that came to Redmond to compete.

The Imagine Cup is an event I personally look forward to, because it consists entirely of smart young students, usually engineers and designers themselves (not yet “serial entrepreneurs”) and often aiming to solve real-world problems.

In the semi-finals I attended, I saw a pair of young women from Pakistan looking to reduce stillbirth rates with a new pregnancy monitor, an automated eye-checking device that can be deployed anywhere and used by anyone, and an autonomous monitor for water tanks in drought-stricken areas. When I was their age, I was living at my mom’s house, getting really good at Mario Kart for SNES and working as a preschool teacher.

Even Nadella bowed before their ambitions in his appearance on stage at the final event this morning.

“Last night I was thinking, ‘What advice can I give people who have accomplished so much at such a young age?’ And I said, I should go back to when I was your age and doing great things. Then I realized…I definitely wouldn’t have made these finals.”

That got a laugh, but (with apologies to Nadella) it’s probably true. Students today have unbelievable resources available to them and as many of the teams demonstrated, they’re making excellent use of those resources.

Congratulations to Team smartARM from #Canada, champion of today's #ImagineCup! Watch the live show on demand at https://t.co/BLxnJ9FGxJ pic.twitter.com/86itWke2du

— Microsoft Imagine (@MSFTImagine) July 25, 2018

SmartArm in particular combines a clever approach with state of the art tech in a way that’s so simple it’s almost ridiculous.

The issue they saw as needing a new approach is prosthetic arms, which as they pointed out are often either non-functional (think just a plastic arm or simple flexion-based gripper) or highly expensive (a mechanical arm might cost tens of thousands). Why can’t one be both?

Their solution is an extremely interesting and timely one: a relatively simply actuated 3D-printed forearm and hand that has its own vision system built in. A camera built into the palm captures an image of the item the user aims to pick up, and quickly classifies it — an apple, a key ring, a pen — and selects the correct grip for that object.

The user activates the grip by flexing their upper arm muscles, an action that’s detected by a Myo-like muscle sensor (possibly actually a Myo, but I couldn’t tell from the demo). It sends the signal to the arm to activate the hand movement, and the fingers move accordingly.

It’s still extremely limited — you likely can’t twist a doorknob with it, or reliably grip a knife or fork, and so on. But for many everyday tasks it could still be useful. And the idea of putting the camera in the palm is a high-risk, high-reward one. It is of course blocked when you pick up the item, but what does it need to see during that time? You deactivate the grip to put the cup down and the camera is exposed again to watch for the next task.

Bear in mind this is not meant as some kind of serious universal hand replacement. But it provides smart, simple functionality for people who might otherwise have had to use a pincer arm or the like. And according to the team, it should cost less than $100. How that’s possible to do including the arm sensor is unclear to me, but I’m not the one who built a bionic arm so I’m going to defer to them on this. Even if they miss that 50 percent it would still be a huge bargain, honestly.

There’s an optional subscription that would allow the arm to improve itself over time as it learns more about your habits and objects you encounter regularly — this would also conceivably be used to improve other SmartArms as well.

As for how it looks — rather robotic — the team defended it based on their own feedback from amputees: “They’d rather be asked, ‘hey, where did you get that arm?” than ‘what happened to your arm?’ ” But a more realistic-looking set of fingers is also under development.

The team said they were originally looking for venture funding but ended up getting a grant instead; they’ve got interest from a number of Canadian and American institutions already, and winning the Imagine Cup will almost certainly propel them to greater prominence in the field.

My own questions would be on durability, washing, and the kinds of things that really need to be tested in real-world scenarios. What if the camera lens gets dirty or scratched? Will there be color options for people that don’t want to have white “skin” on their arm? What’s the support model? What about insurance?

SmartArm takes the grand prize, but the runners up and some category winners get a bunch of good stuff too. I plan to get in touch with SmartArm and several other teams from the competition to find out more and hear about their progress. I was really quite impressed not just with the engineering prowess but the humanitarianism and thoughtfulness on display this year. Nadella summed it up best:

“One of the things that I always think about is this competition in some sense ups the game, right?” he said at the finals. “People from all over the world are thinking about how do I use technology, how do i learn new concepts, but then more importantly, how do I solve some of these unmet, unarticulated needs? The impact that you all can have is just enormous, the opportunity is enormous. But I also believe there is an amazing sense of responsibility, or a need for responsibility that we all have to collectively exercise given the opportunity we have been given.”

via TechCrunch

[roseacisco]

SmartArm’s AI-powered prosthesis takes the prize at Microsoft’s Imagine Cup

A pair of Canadian students making a simple, inexpensive prosthetic arm have taken home the grand prize at Microsoft’s Imagine Cup, a global startup competition the company holds yearly. SmartArm will receive $85,000, a mentoring session with CEO Satya Nadella, and some other Microsoft goodies. But they were far from the only worthy team from the dozens that came to Redmond to compete.

The Imagine Cup is an event I personally look forward to, because it consists entirely of smart young students, usually engineers and designers themselves (not yet “serial entrepreneurs”) and often aiming to solve real-world problems.

In the semi-finals I attended, I saw a pair of young women from Pakistan looking to reduce stillbirth rates with a new pregnancy monitor, an automated eye-checking device that can be deployed anywhere and used by anyone, and an autonomous monitor for water tanks in drought-stricken areas. When I was their age, I was living at my mom’s house, getting really good at Mario Kart for SNES and working as a preschool teacher.

Even Nadella bowed before their ambitions in his appearance on stage at the final event this morning.

“Last night I was thinking, ‘What advice can I give people who have accomplished so much at such a young age?’ And I said, I should go back to when I was your age and doing great things. Then I realized…I definitely wouldn’t have made these finals.”

That got a laugh, but (with apologies to Nadella) it’s probably true. Students today have unbelievable resources available to them and as many of the teams demonstrated, they’re making excellent use of those resources.

Congratulations to Team smartARM from #Canada, champion of today's #ImagineCup! Watch the live show on demand at https://t.co/BLxnJ9FGxJ pic.twitter.com/86itWke2du

— Microsoft Imagine (@MSFTImagine) July 25, 2018

SmartArm in particular combines a clever approach with state of the art tech in a way that’s so simple it’s almost ridiculous.

The issue they saw as needing a new approach is prosthetic arms, which as they pointed out are often either non-functional (think just a plastic arm or simple flexion-based gripper) or highly expensive (a mechanical arm might cost tens of thousands). Why can’t one be both?

Their solution is an extremely interesting and timely one: a relatively simply actuated 3D-printed forearm and hand that has its own vision system built in. A camera built into the palm captures an image of the item the user aims to pick up, and quickly classifies it — an apple, a key ring, a pen — and selects the correct grip for that object.

The user activates the grip by flexing their upper arm muscles, an action that’s detected by a Myo-like muscle sensor (possibly actually a Myo, but I couldn’t tell from the demo). It sends the signal to the arm to activate the hand movement, and the fingers move accordingly.

It’s still extremely limited — you likely can’t twist a doorknob with it, or reliably grip a knife or fork, and so on. But for many everyday tasks it could still be useful. And the idea of putting the camera in the palm is a high-risk, high-reward one. It is of course blocked when you pick up the item, but what does it need to see during that time? You deactivate the grip to put the cup down and the camera is exposed again to watch for the next task.

Bear in mind this is not meant as some kind of serious universal hand replacement. But it provides smart, simple functionality for people who might otherwise have had to use a pincer arm or the like. And according to the team, it should cost less than $100. How that’s possible to do including the arm sensor is unclear to me, but I’m not the one who built a bionic arm so I’m going to defer to them on this. Even if they miss that 50 percent it would still be a huge bargain, honestly.

There’s an optional subscription that would allow the arm to improve itself over time as it learns more about your habits and objects you encounter regularly — this would also conceivably be used to improve other SmartArms as well.

As for how it looks — rather robotic — the team defended it based on their own feedback from amputees: “They’d rather be asked, ‘hey, where did you get that arm?” than ‘what happened to your arm?’ ” But a more realistic-looking set of fingers is also under development.

The team said they were originally looking for venture funding but ended up getting a grant instead; they’ve got interest from a number of Canadian and American institutions already, and winning the Imagine Cup will almost certainly propel them to greater prominence in the field.

My own questions would be on durability, washing, and the kinds of things that really need to be tested in real-world scenarios. What if the camera lens gets dirty or scratched? Will there be color options for people that don’t want to have white “skin” on their arm? What’s the support model? What about insurance?

SmartArm takes the grand prize, but the runners up and some category winners get a bunch of good stuff too. I plan to get in touch with SmartArm and several other teams from the competition to find out more and hear about their progress. I was really quite impressed not just with the engineering prowess but the humanitarianism and thoughtfulness on display this year. Nadella summed it up best:

“One of the things that I always think about is this competition in some sense ups the game, right?” he said at the finals. “People from all over the world are thinking about how do I use technology, how do i learn new concepts, but then more importantly, how do I solve some of these unmet, unarticulated needs? The impact that you all can have is just enormous, the opportunity is enormous. But I also believe there is an amazing sense of responsibility, or a need for responsibility that we all have to collectively exercise given the opportunity we have been given.”

[fmservers]

SmartArm’s AI-powered prosthesis takes the prize at Microsoft’s Imagine Cup

A pair of Canadian students making a simple, inexpensive prosthetic arm have taken home the grand prize at Microsoft’s Imagine Cup, a global startup competition the company holds yearly. SmartArm will receive $85,000, a mentoring session with CEO Satya Nadella, and some other Microsoft goodies. But they were far from the only worthy team from the dozens that came to Redmond to compete.

The Imagine Cup is an event I personally look forward to, because it consists entirely of smart young students, usually engineers and designers themselves (not yet “serial entrepreneurs”) and often aiming to solve real-world problems.

In the semi-finals I attended, I saw a pair of young women from Pakistan looking to reduce stillbirth rates with a new pregnancy monitor, an automated eye-checking device that can be deployed anywhere and used by anyone, and an autonomous monitor for water tanks in drought-stricken areas. When I was their age, I was living at my mom’s house, getting really good at Mario Kart for SNES and working as a preschool teacher.

Even Nadella bowed before their ambitions in his appearance on stage at the final event this morning.

“Last night I was thinking, ‘What advice can I give people who have accomplished so much at such a young age?’ And I said, I should go back to when I was your age and doing great things. Then I realized…I definitely wouldn’t have made these finals.”

That got a laugh, but (with apologies to Nadella) it’s probably true. Students today have unbelievable resources available to them and as many of the teams demonstrated, they’re making excellent use of those resources.

Congratulations to Team smartARM from #Canada, champion of today's #ImagineCup! Watch the live show on demand at https://t.co/BLxnJ9FGxJ pic.twitter.com/86itWke2du

— Microsoft Imagine (@MSFTImagine) July 25, 2018

SmartArm in particular combines a clever approach with state of the art tech in a way that’s so simple it’s almost ridiculous.

The issue they saw as needing a new approach is prosthetic arms, which as they pointed out are often either non-functional (think just a plastic arm or simple flexion-based gripper) or highly expensive (a mechanical arm might cost tens of thousands). Why can’t one be both?

Their solution is an extremely interesting and timely one: a relatively simply actuated 3D-printed forearm and hand that has its own vision system built in. A camera built into the palm captures an image of the item the user aims to pick up, and quickly classifies it — an apple, a key ring, a pen — and selects the correct grip for that object.

The user activates the grip by flexing their upper arm muscles, an action that’s detected by a Myo-like muscle sensor (possibly actually a Myo, but I couldn’t tell from the demo). It sends the signal to the arm to activate the hand movement, and the fingers move accordingly.

It’s still extremely limited — you likely can’t twist a doorknob with it, or reliably grip a knife or fork, and so on. But for many everyday tasks it could still be useful. And the idea of putting the camera in the palm is a high-risk, high-reward one. It is of course blocked when you pick up the item, but what does it need to see during that time? You deactivate the grip to put the cup down and the camera is exposed again to watch for the next task.

Bear in mind this is not meant as some kind of serious universal hand replacement. But it provides smart, simple functionality for people who might otherwise have had to use a pincer arm or the like. And according to the team, it should cost less than $100. How that’s possible to do including the arm sensor is unclear to me, but I’m not the one who built a bionic arm so I’m going to defer to them on this. Even if they miss that 50 percent it would still be a huge bargain, honestly.

There’s an optional subscription that would allow the arm to improve itself over time as it learns more about your habits and objects you encounter regularly — this would also conceivably be used to improve other SmartArms as well.

As for how it looks — rather robotic — the team defended it based on their own feedback from amputees: “They’d rather be asked, ‘hey, where did you get that arm?” than ‘what happened to your arm?’ ” But a more realistic-looking set of fingers is also under development.

The team said they were originally looking for venture funding but ended up getting a grant instead; they’ve got interest from a number of Canadian and American institutions already, and winning the Imagine Cup will almost certainly propel them to greater prominence in the field.

My own questions would be on durability, washing, and the kinds of things that really need to be tested in real-world scenarios. What if the camera lens gets dirty or scratched? Will there be color options for people that don’t want to have white “skin” on their arm? What’s the support model? What about insurance?

SmartArm takes the grand prize, but the runners up and some category winners get a bunch of good stuff too. I plan to get in touch with SmartArm and several other teams from the competition to find out more and hear about their progress. I was really quite impressed not just with the engineering prowess but the humanitarianism and thoughtfulness on display this year. Nadella summed it up best:

“One of the things that I always think about is this competition in some sense ups the game, right?” he said at the finals. “People from all over the world are thinking about how do I use technology, how do i learn new concepts, but then more importantly, how do I solve some of these unmet, unarticulated needs? The impact that you all can have is just enormous, the opportunity is enormous. But I also believe there is an amazing sense of responsibility, or a need for responsibility that we all have to collectively exercise given the opportunity we have been given.”

Via Devin Coldewey https://techcrunch.com