Google Cardboard

I tried out google's cardboard virtual reality (VR) system this week. It was awesome!

I have always been a big google fanboy, mostly because they make life cheaper and easier. And most of their applications are free. What is to really be admired though is their commitment to lateral thinking and cool science. For the uninformed, google cardboard is one such project. A couple of google employees took some time out to write an application that ports google maps, photos and youtube to a stereo display format on supported android devices. They then designed a simple cardboard mount to hold the phone to be viewed through lenses on the mount. They even put a cute little magnet contraption on the side of the mount to act as a switch detected by the phone. And then they released the app and the mount schematics for free. 

I had heard of some upcoming sophisticated VR devices that are apparently poised to take humanity a lot closer to The Matrix. So when google announced this cheap cardboard app, I wanted to try it out. I was skeptical however. You see, most of my specialized viewing experiences have been less fun than expected. Stereo images make my eyes water and 3D movies give me a headache. I still grieve the day I spent $17 on a that awful remake of Clash of the Titans (in 3D!) that looked better without the glasses. I spent a weekend playing Super Mario 3D land on the 3DS console and it was OK because I turned off the 3D function. But a gadget-geek coworker encouraged me to try it out just as a craft project, so I bought in. The schematics were simple enough and in no time I had the pieces ready. Getting the lenses was a little tricky but I managed to find what I needed ($2.52) from the local hipster hardware store. I had a couple of spare magnets lying around for the switch contraption.

Assembly was a breeze and I had the mount ready in ten minutes. The phone app was quite big and I was concerned if my faithful old galaxy nexus would handle the beast but it loaded fine. 

I turned on the app and a playstation-like menu popped up and I could navigate through it by looking around. The dual viewing paired with the lenses worked well enough and I could see just one image; the measurements from the schematics weren't too shabby. I magnet-contraption-clicked on the street view (street vue) option and within seconds my mind was blown. 

It put me on a car driving through a European city in full speed where I was free to look around and it rocked! I am a big google maps user and I spend about half hour everyday taking virtual tours through the world on it. This was that experience on steroids. I spent a good ten minutes on the ride after which I tried the other options, that were mercifully slower paced. The earth option puts you on a stationary spot in a few selected locations and surrounds you with google's 3D building models to look at. You can even fly off to space and look at the earth from above. Tour guide does the same with some select spots in Versailles and adds voiced descriptions. Photosphere allows you to explore you own photosphere images. While all these options were more like trial versions than full fledged virtual worlds, the youtube app seemed more open. It put you in a theater-like surrounding with the video of choice running on the big screen and more videos on the side to look at and click on. Some of the videos seemed related to my viewing history on youtube, so I suspect that it may have a longer lifetime than the other app options. 

It was a fun home project. Overall, the experience was brilliant cheap fun and has me lauding the google engineers that came up with it for their smart work. Thumbs up gentlemen, keep up the good work!

Crapstallography

I spend a good amount of time at work wading through microscopy images of concentrated proteins soaking in salt syrups that should hopefully tease them into forming innocent pretty crystals (that I can mercilessly shot with X-ray guns but that part is another story). It takes just a glance to figure an image out. So with a few thousand conditions and a few images per condition the whole process takes just a few thousand times a few glaces.

Rarely do you get to see something that has crystal written across the image with zoom-in zoom-out effects. The image on the right is a UV light image of the same drop.

Less rarely, you get to see misshapen gunk that has meh written across the image with sound effects that say 'really'?

Then you can spend some time perfecting the syrup recipe until you have something that is workable.

What you see most of the time is either clear boring drops or drops that contain what looks like shredded snakes or alien foetuses.

This one actually looks like the alien from alien.

An that is the scary part. You wade through enough of these crap-drop images that you start seeing mind-game things. Like smiley faces.

Or flirty botched plastic surgery-lips.

Or hand-bags.

Spend enough time and you really start seeing crazy things. Like stars.

Or the Batman.

Must...focus...

I am headed out for some soup, sports and grounded sanity. Peace.

because, Scatterday

Buzz

My first world problem for the day? The smartphone and its games.

I have an interesting situation at work. So if I keep the smartphone on the left side of the desk, it is too far from the wifi router - no internet but one bar to receive calls. If I keep it on the right side of the desk, away from the window (yeah I have a window and the view is awesome!), it loses that one bar but grabs on to the wifi signal - no calls, just internet. Which one do I pick?

I thought for a bit, picked the phone up, stuffed it into my pocket and started working. Problem solved.

Try this

When you find the time that is.

Pour ice slush into the lab sink such that the sink drain is clogged from all the ice but you can still see it. Listen to the ice melting and dropping (pop!) from contact with the drain surface. In a few seconds, you can also see the ice bits getting smaller and falling into the trap making it a fun lightning and thunder combination!

Or you can spice it up by pouring a slush of ethanol and dry ice. Brilliant smoke effects! Use a spatula to play some dry ice hockey on the sink surface as you watch the smoky ice rearrangement show.

Or you can make it more awesome by making it a slush of liquid nitrgen and regular/dry ice for some extra hot spring bubbling effects as well! Except that is against lab safety regulations so cross that.

And they thought Tuesdays aren't fun.

I've been missing for the last month because, amongst other things, I have been working really hard. Peace.

Commencement

August 15 2008

Rob walked in with a gimpy dance and an impish grin.

"What is it?"

I grunted tiredly. I did not want to stare away from my computer screen.

"Apparently it is the Indian independence day today. But I know one indian that is still ruled by a brit!"

Rob's eyebrows arched as he awaited my reply. But the right look was sufficient. A snort later, I was back to my real space tour through the AAV surface landscape.

**********

April 27 2012

Her excellency, the Indian ambassador to the United States had been droning on for about 25 minutes. 'Wrongest person for a commencement address ever' I thought as I zoned in and out of the speech to grab random words about India, Indira Gandhi and something about a golden sparrrow. Where was that Steve Jobs material? It did not matter; I was getting my forty winks for the day. It was excusable though. The one thing I had developed through graduate school was a large attention span for dry talks. If her excellency was able to lull me to static, she deserved to.

Just as I zoned in one last time, she had to talk about how the british were driven out of India. I felt a nudge on my left rib. It was Rob. He smiled and released an invisible bird from his hand. I chuckled. He turned back to the her excellency but I kept staring at him and Mavis on his side. This smile will not leave.

Fulfillment

I am structural virologist. I determine and analyze the 3-D structure of viruses at an atomic scale to identify how they function. My PhD. thesis work focussed on how different pH levels affect the structure  of Adeno-Associated Viruses to enable proper virus infection.

Ladies and gentlemen, this degree has been earned.

The greatest thing

Twenty days from now, I can technically be referred to as a doctor. The funny thing is I don't feel any more scholarly and I definitely cannot cure cancer. So I have created a personal yardstick for the required scholarliness to satisfy this doctorate. If I can describe my work and my scientific interests within 3 sentences or 30 seconds (whichever comes first) to any random layman that I meet, I can keep the right to be called a doctor. Otherwise, I would just be another elitist degree holder. 

"This is my daughter...from the US." "Oh my son-in-law too..."

A year ago, I had made a post confirming my revulsion with the induced overt-awe of an academic degree. Obviously there was more to the matter than what I picked up naively back then.

--

I had settled on the bean-bag after a power lunch to watch a matinee telecast of 'Veerasamy' on KTV with a bowl of jelly and a cold glass of mango juice in attire that would make Mahatma Gandhi proud. Mom and dad left to see someone and Pammi decided to give up on stealing the remote and retired for the afternoon. The bell rang A middle-aged couple with their smatter-stache tall-than-me high school son showed up to see the apartment we planned to rent out. I was a bit twitched about being interrupted but tiwo had finally made it to Tata Sky cable so I led them towards the apartment, remote in hand.

"Hi, I am buzz-buzz-blah", said the gentleman as he shook my bony hand and took notice of my skinny build. His wife nodded and his son looked away. I lead them to the apartment and told them to feel free to look around as I parked on the sawdust-layered kitchen counter. The mom examined the apartment in great detail as they noted each point and nodded to herself and looked to the head of the house for his approval grunt. The son occasionally did a slight dance with his feet and said something to his dad, all the time looking at the ceiling. My saw-dust house sketch was nearly complete when the gentleman walked over to me and asked me, "Are there any elders in the house?".

To this day, I have always had the distinct privilege of receiving a semi-dismissive comment on my age and how it poorly fits my current degree of study when my parents introduce me to someone they know. But even as a hardened player, I was not happy about getting that from Mr. Buzz. I reached for my beard to stroke it but I realized that it had been discarded, in part to help me resemble my passport photo. Nevertheless, I was a 25-year old and I was going to stand up for myself.

"You can talk to me, I own this place" I said. Maybe I had over said something there in my moment of irritation. But I was still going to stick with it. I did not call you balding Mr. Buzz, even though I noticed it before I shook your hand.

But Mr. Buzz was not convinced at all. He still had control on the conversation. So he took a deep breath and let it out loudly and responded, " what is the rent?"

"We quoted it on the newspaper ad", I responded coolly.

Mr. Buzz gave a sly smile perfected by the average Indian negotiator and started, " I know but what is THE rent? See, basically I am from Mumbai. I have been living there for 20 years. I lived in Juhu. You know, Juhu beach? It is a posh area. We had a proper society apartment with amenities like a swimming pool and a club house. Even there I only paid 28,000."

A number of thoughts swam in my head. Alright Mr. Buzz. You have just knowingly or unknowingly, in perfect Indian fashion, thrown some mud on my ancestral home that we all blindly loved. Generations of our dogs have marked their ownership of this place with so much uric acid that it would fill your swimming pool a dozen times. The colony that you have somehow found your way to, is an equivalent to Pali Hill or Malabar Hill in Mumbai. And Juhu is NOT a posh area.

I gave a tired smile and responded, "Just tell me how much you wish to pay".

"Thirty thousand." He had read my expression and was now losing some of his confidence.

"Alright. Just give me your number. I have your name and your quote. If we decide to negotiate on the rent, we will get back to you." Mr. Buzz was visibly displeased with how he had to do this routine with a cold little skinny kid but I was the oldest person he was going to meet that afternoon. He said, "Ok" with a grunt towards the end and started heading out as the rest of the family shuffled after him slowly. I retured to the bean bag to continue what was left of my afternoon.

--

Four hours later, the phone bell rang as I just returned home from walking Scoobie. I picked it up,

"Good Evening."

"Uh. Hello?"

"Yes please?"

"Hi. My name is Mr. Buzz. I had come to see an apartment this afternoon."

"Yes Mr. Buzz. Tell me."

"Uh. Are there any elders around?"

I handed the phone to my father without a response and sped off to the kitchen to report to my mom on the caller. Dad joined us in a few seconds, "He is coming over to see us. Wear a shirt Harish."

I had stopped arguing with my parents a couple of years ago. I walked to my closet and returned in a t-shirt that misspelt New York and Brazil and had a tea stain on it. Mom and dad exchanged a glance but said nothing.

--

I was revising our photo album for the nth time. Scoobie and I had retired to my bedroom for similar reasons. Mr. Buzz had been sitting with dad and mom for the last half hour and judging from the level of noise and the topic of conversation, it was clear that they had hit it off well. The phone rang.

Mom answered, "Harish. Its Abi for you."

I cursed and sped out to pick the phone up and bring it back to my room. But mom had picked up the dusty, abandoned supply phone that could only be used the old fashioned way.

One ten-second phone call later, I quietly tried to slink away, when dad turned to me, "Harish...This is my son Harish. He is studying in the US too."

"Oh.."

That was a chorus by both Mr. and Mrs. Buzz. Mrs. Buzz's expression turned from shock to one that reassured her that all the kids of these days end up there anyway and it was nothing special. Mr Buzz's expression turned from genuine shock to a substantial regret that dripped from his expression as he nearly dropped the dry snack he was holding. Sonny boy kept looking out the window at our neighbor's abandoned old garage.

--

Amongst other things that can be concluded from this post, I think now that it may have been interesting to rewind the evening situation to change what my dad said to, "This is my son Harish. He is pursuing a doctoral degree." I guarantee a lesser shock. It think it can sometimes be a bigger social deal to be elementary schooler in the USA rather than a graduate degree holder in India.

"Have you no ambition? Don't you want to study well, go abroad and make your country proud?"

-some nameless R.K. Laxman cartoon.

Four idiots

Essentially my blog has and audience of two people. The first one is my girlfriend who has been blackmailed to read my posts and the second one is me; to see if the blog shows up on google if I keep visiting it. However, an unexpectedly pleasant surprise came from pious St. Gregorious who not only visited but left an azure note that I am obliged to share in a separate post.


"Established in 1997, St. Gregorious Edu-Guidance is a leading education consultancy services providing exemplary service to students all over India. We deal in Admissions to all major professional courses in Premier Institutes across India. We are your one step solution for all career related needs, it may be MD, MBBS BE, BTech (ALL BRANCHES), , MDS, BDS, BPharm, BArch, MBA, MTech, MS, , PhD or any other courses. We provide personalized career solutions on an individual basis keeping in mind the aspirations of our client as well as the affordability factor.
FOR ALL CAREER RELATED NEEDS CONTACT US :
St. Gregorious Edu-Guidance,
#2, 2nd Floor,
J J Complex, Above Chemmannur Jewellers,
Marthahalli - P O,
Bangalore - 560037
Karnataka
e-mail :jojishpaily@gmail.com
Contact: +91 9448516637
+91 9886089896, +91 9449009983
080-32416570, 41719562


WEBSITE: www.stgregoriousedu.com"

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

Dear St. Gregorious

I take great delight in knowing of your "dealership" in admissions to premier institutes across India. If only you had contacted me when I was an indian student, I would have loved to talk to you over tea on your exemplary service directed-goals, your equation of careers, aspirations and education into a single, affordable snack and your "edu.com" site. It would have been interesting to know where you purchased the life that you have from . If I was looking for a place to trade my naive enthusiasm for cunning, I wish I had heard from you. Alas, it is too late now, for I have doomed myself with an education purpose that only helps me learn, understand and think better. My career aspirations have also somehow settled for school teacher jobs that may not require your established services. I therefore request you to direct back your energies towards a glorious future of a half-educated India. With careers.

best wishes

-B

All in ten minutes

I really hate babies. They scream loudly and can't be reasoned with. Especially when they are seated next to me in airplanes. Which happens nine times of every ten flights that I board.

I was glad the ordeal was mere seconds from being over. I unbuckled my seat-belt and leaned forward to look out the window again. The baby-mama next to me that borrowed my pen smiled at me, thanked me for my patience and asked me what I do. I am a graduate student, I replied with a confident smile. She nodded knowledgeably but asked me which college I plan to join after my graduation. My smile degenerated a bit as I told her I had graduated from college. Her smile grew wider as her eyebrows arched. '"Are you doing a masters?", she inquired pleasantly. I barely nodded as Jeanne seated right next to me blurted, "PhD". Mommy let out a loudly approving 'Oh!' as I blushed uncontrollably and looked away as I shifted uncomfortably on my seat. I do not enjoy those anymore and quite justifiably so.

Fortunately, we were cleared for exit and I quickly picked my bag up and joined the line. Baby Pavarotti belted out one more number. I hastily dratted past the people attempting to join the line in front of me without a thought for courtesies as I heard Jeanne and Miorel laugh. I half-ran up the aero-bridge and finally stopped once I was in the departure lounge hallway to wait for the rest of the band to join me. I thought back about my uncomfortable moment with the lady.

It is not that I am not happy with my life right now, quite the contrary actually. I love my work and I love my lab. But I am tired of the overt effect of the title. It is just another degree and people my age in the industry are working harder. There is nothing special about it. Don't fool yourself or others - it is NOT more brain work than other lines and no - it is definitely not the job for geniuses. Yes, others work just as hard or harder. I feel guilty.

I remember a similar situation a month ago back home.

***flashback to a month ago***

"Protein Engineering", said dad with a proud grin.

I shot a half-amazed, half-annoyed look at him. I definitely do not do any such engineering or related work. I was surprised that this person had actually attempted to get a PhD in biology at some point in his life and actually published a paper before be left half-way.

"PhD, University of Florida", mom added.

"Oh!", said the family friend. "Then you must know my ......"

***a little later***

I accosted mom before she made her way to the laptop to start her afternoon Scrabble session with the bot. "Why did you have to say that?". "What else do you want me to say?", she asked back with mild annoyance. I stayed determined, " you could say graduate student". "And how do you expect them to understand that?", said mom tiredly. I smiled and said, "Precisely" but mom did not wait for me.

I grabbed dad a few seconds later. "Protein Engineering?!!". "Isn't that what you do?", he asked in amusement. But I wanted this to be serious, "I do crystallography. I told you that so many times." He replied, "I don't know too well what that is and surely others do not". "But Watson, Crick and Henry Bragg were crystallographers. It is a very old field. Nothing swanky new and cutting edge." Dad laughed just like dad does and walked away with Scoobie (who spared me an indifferent look) trailing for their mid-afternoon siesta. How is it that an "important" area of science sticks around for nearly a century and is not as known as protein engineering?

***present***

John joined me and pointed at me with a 'ha-ha' like a Simpsons character as the others pitched in with wide grins of their own. I rolled my eyes and looked away. Rob and Mavis walked over. Mavis said nothing but Rob's sinister smile pulled my attention to him. "I knew where you were seated sir", he let go and acknowledged the snorting from the group for his joke. They had all travelled with me long enough to discover my wonderful luck with yelling babies on flights. Yes there is something called luck and I haz none of itz.

I did not wait for their maturity to kick back in and sped up the hall behind Mavis. Toronto airport was nowhere as pretty as Vancouver but then again, Vancouver airport was the best I had seen. Toronto seemed much more travel worn, bare and cold. Probably only because of the strike, I thought. I had a very positive opinion of Canadian cities. The were US cities in a better state of prosperity. Maybe it was not going to be such a bad day despite the start.

I had reached the short queue at the Canadian immigration point. A lady with dull make-up and bright clothes waved at me and told me to head to counter 11. I smiled at her and mouthed a thanks as I headed to the counter. A well built officer with short hair and lots of gel leaned over the counter , took my passport and customs forms and asked me how I was doing as he turned to his computer screen and typed with quick jabs. I shared basic pleasantries with a broad smile. He then raised his eyebrows and looked at me with a smile, "So you were in Vancouver last week? I am from Vancouver. Did you find it beautiful?". I smiled my best yet. "Yes. Very".

"So what business are you here in Toronto for?"

"A science conference"

"What kind of science conference?"

"Crystallography". I was still grinning to my molars.

He frowned. "What is that?!"

I had a fleeting visual of mom, dad and Pammi laughing as I dropped my grin and my ears reddened. John must have noticed it despite my dark skin because I could see him smile behind me through the back of my head.

"Virus". I blurted. "Maths....Physics...Bio...Biophysics."

The officer's frown did not leave as he stared at me suspiciously. "So where are you staying?". I stared back blankly as I went redder. "A hotel".

"Which hotel? Is your conference at the same place?"

"Umm...I don't...I can ask my boss. She's just at the next counter.Mavis..."

He looked over at Mavis and Rob who were having a hearty chat about socialized medical systems with their counter officer.

"Are you all a group?"

"Yes. I nodded. We are all students. They are our bosses." I realized that my nervous word selection was getting more and more incriminating.

"Have a pleasant stay", he said as he tossed my form and passport back to me, the frown sustained. I strode past hurriedly. I did not wait for the others as i made a dash to the conveyor belts and parked at a seat. It was going to be that sort of a day, I agreed with myself.

The others arrived quickly as the conveyor belt squealed to life. I waited at my seat for the others to finish and come over as someone just walked up to me and said, "nice shirt". She was a conventionally pretty-looking girl, presumably in her late teens. I looked down at my t-shirt, recognized the Tux logo on it and looked back at her with a smile and said thanks. "I use Debian", she said. I was suprised but I cleanly masked it and mustered a pleasant "Gentoo". "Cool! Nice to meet ya", she said and glided away to the belt. I chuckled to myself. The others joined me and continued their banter but I wasn't listening at all. As we exited the airport the Debian girl was climbing into a chromed-out Mazda. She smiled again and waved at me and I waved back. It was going to be a great day.

We walked to the taxi pick-up point where a lady with a strong french accent quickly mouthed code into her walkie-talkie and ushered in two taxis for us. "Eet weel take a meenit", she said. "Thats alright," responded Mavis pleasantly. The lady smiled at us and looked curiously at the poster box I was carrying.

"Where are you going to?" , she asked Jeanne.

"A conference".

"What kind of conference?"

"A science conference"

"are you scienteests? Oh...!"



FML

Average Monday

It is 6:30 am. You jump start your day by cart-wheeling out of bed and smoothly landing next to your alarm clock. You stop its tantrums, grab a towel and get washed, cleaned and dressed. You wolf down a bowl of cereal grab your essentials and head out to lab. It is a beautiful day and everything outside looks surreal. You jaunt down the walkway as you turn on the music. 'Bhor aayi gaya andhiyara' floats into your ears. It is perfect.

It is 7:15 am. You walk into lab, open the -20, get out a frozen cell pellet and put it in the water bath. You head to your desk where two screens of floating 3D bubbles suddenly switch to a login screen as you roll your fingers over the mouse. You want to start your perfect day with checking the news, mail and sporting highlights. John walks into your room and sees you, looks at his watch, smirks and walks away. You look at him, turn back to your screen and smile to yourself. He's not going to ruin this monday. Yeah.

It is 7:45 am. The mail has been marked as read. Some have been responded to. Nothing new in sports or world news. You interlock your fingers and bend them till you hear eight cracking effects in unison. Work begins.

It is 8:45 am. Every one else pours into lab and wishes you a good morning. You pull off your head phones and wish them back. You stop scaling the data that you were at and start discussing with them, your ideas on the idiots of the world.

It is 9 am. Rob walks in with a tall mug of coffee. 'He drinks too much coffee for a Brit', you tell yourself for the nth time. Rob claps his hands and announces, 'protein group meeting'. You grab your notebook and walk over to the meeting desks.

It is 9:30 am. You have to leave for Dr. Muzyczka's Advanced Virology class. But you also want to just leave the lab and run away. John told the others about how you showed up at 7:15 am. Kat raised her eyebrows, Jeanne laughed and Rob nearly spilt his coffee. You gave an uneasy smile and said you do come in early sometimes. They laugh harder. It dies down and the meeting resumes. Near the end Rob says, "The ones of you that are really cool would...". Jeanne buries herself further into her arms, Kat looks straight up at the ceiling and John tilts his chair back further. Rob looks at you and smiles. You open your mouth in horror. He hands you a small list of high school student names and tells you about how they will visit the lab and look to you for a 2 hour tour of the facility. You curse yourself. You want to run away. Rob realizes your plight and smiles wider. John smiles too and Kat gets back to looking around the table. You want to run away. Yeah.

It is 10:30 am - You spent an hour in Dr. Muzyczka's class learning how to tilt your chair on one leg without holding the table. You grab a tall cup of hot chocolate from Starbucks on your way back to lab. You enter and notice that the morning's excitement has died down. People are briskly walking around with gloved hands and others are peering into lines and lines of codes and numbers on their computer screens. You head silently to yours, open a terminal and resume your scaling. You take breaks to go to your wetlab bench and work on the cell pellet.

It is 12:30 pm - Your data scaling has progressed. The cell debris has been seperated from the supernatent. Rob walked in 3 times and informed you that he has emailed you something that he also tells you in person. You nod away to the side and see Kat and Jeanne head out for lunch. You join them and walk over to the cafeteria.

It is 1:00 pm - Life is not fair at all. Tina needed the cells that you had lysed because the virus in them was a mutant virus and not the wild type that you expected it to be. She apologizes to you for not labeling the tube. You get a fleeting image of mahatma gandhi in your head and tell her that she can of course have the sample. She smiles at you and thanks you. You walk back to your desk in the manner of a saint that gave up the last of his clothes to a freezing man. Tina thanks you again and smiles at you. You wave your hand and smile like a good king and sit down at your desk. Tina thanks you again and smiles at you. Something is wrong. It took you too long to realize that it was quite a foolish move to do that in front of the rest of the lab. Everyone else is grinning away too. John turns around, looks at you and a broad grin opens up on his face and mutters, "Waitaminnit. You did that all morning and it wasn't wild type?". He is evil. Rob walks in, smells the air, turns to you and smiles almost identically. You curse both of them and make a mental note to enter their email addresses at a porn site database. On second thoughts, you decide to enter the entire lab's set of email addresses at a porn site database. With the exception of yourself.

It is 2:30 pm - You download the paper that is to be discussed at Crystallography journal club and read through it carefully. You take short breaks in the middle where you stare around at what the others are doing and check your mail.

It is 2:55 pm - You have finished reading the paper. You look up at the Chuck Norris poster that you got on your birthday, grab your laptop and join the rest of the bunch as the head out for journal club.

It is 4 pm - Journal club was fun. Your spirits return. You check your mail. You call the racquetball club and book a court for 6 pm. You do not want to work now so you join the rest of the bunch as they crack jokes on Rob and ridicule his accent. You join in and use the chance to call Rob a few names as Rob sighs silently and takes the hits. You realize that Rob will never be the bully of the lab. Ever.

It is 5 pm - You walk to Mavis' room and tell her about your day's progress. You nearly talk to her for 45 minutes before you realize that you have to run to racquetball. You grab your shoes and break into a trot as you head up the hill.

It is 7 pm - Racquetball was a blast. You won the series 3-2. You walk home, get a shower and make some spaghetti. You eat it slowly as you check on recent videos on youtube. After that you grab a cup of Yoghurt and settle on the couch and watch Sportscenter on TV.

It is 8 pm - You head back to lab. Its quiet. Nobody is here. You flip on the lights in your room and get back to work. You turn on the music. It was a good idea to rummage through the old computer equipment to find these speakers. People randomly walk in and out of lab. You briskly walk get some purification done and refine data.

It is 11 pm - You head back home and speak to Subbu along the way. You then speak to mom and dad on skype for 10 minutes, do the dishes, clean up, grab your psp and turn on some comedy videos and flop on the bed. You are asleep in 3 minutes.

Structural wars

A computational biologist, an NMR spectroscopist and a crystallographer went to the races. The computational biologist whipped out his laptop, opened a couple of program windows and exclaimed, " i've found out the outcome of this race! The horse named gonio stat will win. I have run a simple simulation of the entire thing with all variables taken in good account. Gonio stat will win by many lengths."

Needless to say, the NMR spectroscopist and the crystallographer disapproved and questioned.

The NMR spectroscopist narrowed his eyes and said, "how can you say you have everything accounted for? Did you account for the track conditions? what if the track is muddy?"

"Thats a good point". said the computational biologist. he quickly modified his codes and parameters and observed the results. Gonio stat's position in the race was negligably changed. He still seemed to win by many lengths.

The assured NMR spectroscopist quitely placed a 50 buck bet on the horse and went away.

The crystallographer persisted. In his traditional crystallographic worries he stated, " i am still not convinced. have you accounted for wind currents and humidity and rain?"

"Hmmm. thats a good point too." said the computational biologist. He modified his codes and parameters and rechecked his results. The position of the horse barely changed and he still seemed to win the race by many lengths.

The crystallographer was still reluctant. however he placed a 100 buck bed on gonio stat and hoped that it worked.

All the calculations were now done and the bets were in place and the race began. Needless to say, gonio stat had an impressive start but as the race went on he lagged and slowed and fell far behind every one of the other horses. He was behind all of them by many lengths. The race ended with gonio stat on an obvious last place.

The the crystallographer and the NMR spectroscopist were furious. "we believed in you! you said you had taken everything into account including the track and weather conditions! how did this happen?!!!" They demanded to see his logic.

The computational biologist began with a smug smile, "first assume a spherical horse...."


-posted on my lab entrance